2006

What an unexpected year.

Note to self...

Don't wear slippery socks in a house with stairs. Ever.

Click my heels three times...

I am crawling out of my skin to get to Michigan. I am so ready for school, for having friends around, to just have a routine, busy full days, doing things I like, hanging out with people I like. But that's not all. I'm in the process of moving again, and it's making me crazy. In the past year, I've moved from Anderson to Jersey, Jersey to England, back from England again, and now on to Michigan. Four major moves in the past twelve months. Half the reason I'm considering staying in Ann Arbor over the summer is because I don't want to go through moving again. Every time I've moved some where in the past year, I've known it's not going to be for long. And I am *so* excited about Michigan, not because of all the fun times and the academics (taking a semester out of school will make a nerd out of anyone) or because we have a kick butt football team (because I would feel this way no matter which school I would be starting out this year), but because I know I'm going to be there for a while. I can settle finally. It can sorta become home.

I wonder...

what is it that keeps everyone up at night?

I wish I could write about that.

Carry me...

January 1, I've got a lot of this on my mind
I'm looking at my body through a new spy satellite
Try to lift a finger, but I don't think I can make the call
So tell me if I move, 'cause I don't feel anything at all

So Carry Me,
I'm just a dead man
Lying on the carpet
Can't find a heartbeat
Make me breathe,
I want to be a new man
Tired of the old one
Out with the old plan

I woke up from a dream about an empty funeral
But is was better than the party full of people I don't really know
They've got hearts to break and burn
Dirty hands to feel the earth
There's something in my veins,
But I can't seem to make it work… won't work

So Carry Me,
I'm just a dead man
Lying on the carpet
Can't find a heartbeat
Make me breathe,
I want to be a new man
Tired of the old one
Out with the old plan

Can you find a beat inside of me?
Any pulse?
Getting worse?
Any pulse?
Getting worse?
Inside of me, can you find a beat?

Carry Me,
I'm just a dead man
Lying on the carpet
Can't find a heartbeat
Make me breathe,
I want to be a new man
Tired of the old one

- "Carry Me" Jars of Clay

What's your boogeyman? Mine's been following me around for a few days...

Artists are not inherently enlightened. A lesson I should have learned several years ago.

The thing about artists is, they think they've found the higher calling on their lives. Artists are people who look around at all the bs that's happening in everyone else's lives, they can see the way people are piddling away their days, recognizing that the climb for the all american family and executive job will only lead to disappoint. The ironic thing is, they think they've found something better. Creating art that explores and implodes the typical ideals of happiness and contentment becomes a sort of corporate goal. But in the end, how is it any different from the material-focused lives we are deconstructing? The pursuit of art is just as dangerous as the pursuit of the corner office. We switch fancy cars and carribean vacations for best seller lists and fan letters that tell us we've touched souls. Artists are just as falliable as they people they observe falling. They can get so caught up in examining other people's lives, they miss the lives they're meant to be living.

"Life is more important than art. I'm probably one of the most pompous artist you can find, but life is more important. We tend to forget that... [Writing] the greatest book ever versus an evening spent with someone you love is not comparable."
- Zach Helm, Creative Screenwriting

When the Stars go Blue

Dancin' when the stars go blue
Dancin' when the evening fell
Dancin' in your wooden shoes
In a wedding gown

Dancin' out on 7th street
Dancin' through the underground
Dancin' with the marionette
Are you happy now?

Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue
stars go blue
stars go blue
stars go blue

Laughin' with your pretty mouth
Laughin' with your broken eyes
Laughin' with your lover's tongue
In a lullaby

Where do you go when you're lonely
Where do you go when you're blue
Where do you go when you're lonely
I'll follow you
When the stars go blue
stars go blue
stars go blue
stars go blue

Writers are God's most pretentious creatures.

I remember, last year during NaNo, I blogged a ridiculous amount, often bemoaning the duress of the month. I don't know the last time I did a substantial blog of anything other than song lyrics. I'll just say I've been expending all my creative energy on my other masterpieces.

That, and real life.

I'm going to school again in January, and I'm so psyched! It's a little surreal; I never thought, really, that I would be going where I've decided. On the other hand, once I decided, months ago, that it was where I wanted to go, I knew if it was in the smallest way feasible, I'd be there. I'm stubbornly persistent sometimes. Sometimes it works. Hopefully, this time the major will stick, now that I've decided to abandon all those programs I was in so I would have a day job to support my writing and just chosen instead a program that will facilitate my dreams of being a starving artist. My job is too important for it to be anything other than what I really want to be doing with my life.

In preparation for the program, and because of various contacts I've been making, I'm soaking myself in as much screenwriting literature and advice as possible. It's a little overwhelming sometimes, but I'm learning lots already, and it's just making me more excited for January, when I can actually start taking classes and applying what I know and learning more. I have a couple of script ideas spinning around, but right now I feel guilty working on them.

Because of NaNo.

Right now I'm at about 31,000 words with less than a week to go. With my average speed of 1,000 words a half hour and the fact that I don't' do much of anything now that I'm back in America, it isn't impossible to finish by midnight, Novemeber 30th. I'm having a hard time focusing. I picked a subject that was too serious, and I'm not having nearly as much fun writing it as I did last year. On the other hand, I'm sorta glad I stuck with this subject, because I was going to have to write it sometime, since it was just one of those ideas that kept sticking with me. However, it's so much flater than I thought it would be, and it definitely needs a lot of strucutral and plot work because it's anywhere near the work of literary genius I thought it would be. And it doesn't help that I'd much rather be reading about screenplay writing than writing my NaNo. But I suppose part of NaNo is the procrastination (not like I'm not a master of that already).

Right now, it's time for a game of Boggle with my family. Those three thousand words I need to write? Totally can do it later, no problem...

I'm sorry if you thought this was true about your parents, because it's not.

Because quite obviously, I have the best, most supportive parents ever. All of us, their kids, are crazy in our own ways, and sometimes I wonder what they think when we break out with our last "decision" (i.e. go to England, study romantic love in college, make brickfilms). It's probably better not to ask them. But my parents really are amazing. I hope if I'm ever a parent, my husband and I will be just as supportive of our children. Because having your parents support really does make a huge difference.

One of my new favourite bands.

We'll do it all
Everything
On our own

We don't need
Anything
Or anyone

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know
How to say
How I feel

Those three words
Are said too much
They're not enough

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time
Chasing cars
Around our heads

I need your grace
To remind me
To find my own

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

- "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol

How I hate goodbyes.

I thought I would wrap up my six months here with a second installment of what I've learned in England:

1. If you wash a spider down the drain, it really will crawl up again.

2. Cutting the grass, like cooking and ironing, is also a waste of time. However, as it is difficult to do with company, it just shouldn't be done at all.

3. Peer pressure is a "good" thing when we use it on children.

4. Don't go back and read old love letters.
EDIT: Go back and read old love letters.

5. What sleeping ducks look like.

6. If you shave a zebra, it will be all black. If you shave a tiger, it will still have its stripes.

7. Happiness and pain can co exist simultaneously.

8. Sometimes you have to make the mistake, even if you know it's a mistake.

9. If you weighed all the spiders in the world and all the people in the world, the weight of the spiders would be more.

10. People seem to either take life too seriously or not seriously enough.

11. All swans belong to the Queen.

12. I am a loud person.

13. If you're not properly hydrated, your brain goes fuzzy.

14. It's easier to choose to love someone than choose to not love them.

15. Walks at dusk are nice.

16. As Finding Forrester says, "Write your first draft with your heart."

17. The only thing that can make a bad day worse is finally seeing your cute neighbor from across the street... as you're walking home from buying the biggest bar of chocolate ever.

18. God brought me to England for a reason (or maybe more than one), and I should never wish that I was somewhere else.

19. I've been mispronouncing "first" my entire life.

20. Do not stir rice.

21. The British bus system is hopeless (and if trains are down for engineering work, well, good luck).

22. Always take a flashlight and compass when traveling.

23. Don't always play it safe.

24. Glasses don't give the Bug Off look they're supposed to.

25. Slow down.

26. Be careful of making attachments you know you're going to leave (not don't do it, just be careful)

27. The people of Cardiff are terrible drivers.

28. Just because a train is about ready to leave the station doesn't mean you should jump on it; check to make sure it's the one you want first.

29. Don't use your passport as your everday ordinary ID.

30. Life is better when all you have is a good foundation than it is when you have a whole condemned mansion.

I have no more original thoughts

"I tried to be perfect
But nothing was worth it
I don’t believe it makes me real
I thought it’d be easy
But no one believes me
I meant all the things I said

I tried to be perfect
It just wasn’t worth it
Nothing could ever be so wrong
It’s hard to believe me
It never gets easy
I guess I knew that all along"

Rediscovering the radio

Well it's a big big city and it's always the same
Can never be too pretty tell me you your name
Is it out of line if I were so bold to say "Would you be mine"?

Because I may be a beggar and you maybe the queen
I know I maybe on a downer am still ready to dream
Now it's 3 o'clock time it takes for you to talk

So if you're lonely why'd you say your not lonely
Oh your a silly girl, I know I hurt it so
It's just like you to come
And go you know me no you don't even know me
Your so sweet to try, oh my, you caught my eye
A girl like you's just irresistible

Well it's a big big city and the lights are all out
But it's much as I can do you know to figure you out
And I must confess, my hearts in broken pieces
And my heads a mess
And it's 4 in the morning, and I'm walking along
Beside the ghost of every drinker here who has ever done wrong
And it's you, woo hoo
That's got me going crazy for the things you do

So if your crazy I don't care you amaze me
Oh youre a stupid girl, oh me, oh my, you talk
I die, you smile, you laugh, I cry
And only, a girl like you could be lonely
And it's a crying shame, if you would think the same
A boy like me's just irresistible

So if your lonely, why'd you say you're not lonely
Oh your a silly girl, I know I hurt it so
It's just like you to come and go
And know me, no you don't even know me
Your so sweet to try oh my, you caught my eye
A girl like you's just irresistible

- "Whistle for the Choir"

NaNoWriMo 2006

I will not fall behind on the first day.

"Truly, truly I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn to joy.
"So you have sorry now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you."

- John 16:20, 22

Here's to my current Relient K kick

And this week the trend
was to not wake up till 3pm
I picked the few conscious hours that I chose to spend
and slept away the rest of them

and this week the trend
was to crash and burn and then return again
to practice the life that I pretend
provides enough to get me through the weekend

so I say
get me a solution
and watch me run with it
and then you gave
you gave me a solution
what have I done with it
cause I was absolutely sure I had it all figured out
way back then
and now it's this minute, this hour, this day

And this week the trend
was to backstab every single one of my friends
and leave a voicemail message trying to make amends
all the while hoping things work out in the end

and this week the trend
was to borrow all the strength that you could lend
to keep my head above the water and not descend
back to where I said I'd never go again

So I say
give me a solution
and watch me run with it
and then you gave
you gave me a solution
what have I done with it
cause I was absolutely sure I had it all figured out
way back then
but after this day it's this week all over again

And I just want to get mugged at knifepoint
to get cut enough to wake me up
cause I know that I don't want to die
sitting around watching my life go by
and what we take from this is what we'll get and we haven't quite figured it out just yet
because all of us are all too stuck
strapped to a chair watching our lives blow up
stuck watching our lives blow up

- "This Week the Trend," by Relient K

This is not fair.

Just promise you won't close your eyes

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
Yesterday is a promise that you’ve broken
Don’t close your eyes, don’t close your eyes
This is your life and today is all you’ve got now
Yeah, and today is all you’ll ever have
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

Yesterday is a kid in the corner
Yesterday is dead and over

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed that it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

This is your life are you who you want to be
This is your life are you who you want to be

This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, are you who you want to be
This is your life, is it everything you dreamed it would be
When the world was younger and you had everything to lose

And you had everything to lose

"This is your Life," by Switchfoot

I experienced my own personal version of hell today.

Hell is not made up, as some theologians might think, of darkness, hellfire, and flesh eating worms. Oh no. It's much worse than that. I had a revelation today that really, hell is made up of thousands upon thousands of wet lawns that "must" be cut. Torture worthy of Greek and Roman gods.

I had five cups of tea yesterday. Five. I am officially coming back from England a tea drinker.

Speaking of coming back from England... Elodie and Nadine came over today and we mapped out the next couple of weeks, where we were going and when and my good bye dinner party. My what? I'm leaving? I didn't have a good bye party when I was in America, so it's going to be really sad, I think. There's not enough time. There's too much time.

Once a month on the second Thursday, a church in Emsworth throws a kids event called Messy Church. It just started up again for school time, and we've gone the past couple of months with the children. Yesterday, the fantastic simplicity of a children's praise song struck me, for the second time in a row. We should sing kid's songs more often.

If I were a butterfly, I'd thank you, Lord, for giving me wings;
And if I were a robin in a tree, I'd thank you Lord, that I could sing;
And if I were a fish in the sea, I'd wiggle my tail and I'd giggle
with glee;
But I just Thank You Father, for making me - ME!

Chorus
'Cause you gave me a heart and
You gave me a smile
You gave me Jesus, and
You made me His Child
And I just Thank You, Father
Foe making me - ME!

If I were an elephant, I'd thank you, Lord, by raising my trunk;
And if I were a kangaroo, I'd hop, hop, hop, right up to you;
And if I were an octopus, I'd thank you, Lord, for my good looks;
But I just Thank You, Father, for making me - ME!

If I were a wiggly worm, I'd thank you, Lord, that I could squirm;
And if I were a crocodile, I'd thank you, Lord, for my big smile;
And if I were a fuzzy wuzzy bear, I'd thank you, Lord, for my
fuzzy, wuzzy hair;
But I just Thank You, Father, for making me - ME!

'Cause you gave me a heart and
You gave me a smile
You gave me Jesus, and
You made me His Child
And I just Thank You, Father
Foe making me - ME!

Sometimes, I wish my nickname was Turtle. But Leila's cool too.

I am so hyper right now. Too bad it's 10:30.

Today I sat down and wrote about 7 pages of a treatment for a script that's been bouncing around in my head for the past couple of months. It's a great feeling when everything works together. I'm about halfway through the treatment, then I'm going to send it to my best friends and see what they think. And I'm totally conning them into helping me by naming characters after them. Well, technically, it's because they ARE them. Art, life, one of them is supposed to imitate the other, I think. I'm slightly worried about my writing right now, though, because NaNo is coming up, and the other day I realized that for the past several months, I haven't written any fiction. It's been strictly scriptwriting. They are completely different, and I'm a little worried I won't be able to sustain a piece of fiction of length. And being in England and trying to write a NaNo that's good and working out my future and trying to work on my scripts at the same time... we'll see.

I'm coming home in four and a half weeks!

The sunsets in England are amazing. Three nights in a row they've been breath taking. I don't remember seeing sunsets like this in America. Maybe I just haven't been looking. Dusk is my new favourite time of day, especially to go for walks and think.

Hmmm, thinking.

Please pray for my upcoming decisions. I'm totally procrastinating on getting a job (or jobs) for when I get back. I should start hearing from colleges and some scholarships soon. Just pray that God makes it really really really obvious what He wants me to do. I know what I want to do and I know what will probably end up happening, but I want to make sure that I do what He wants. I'm scared that I'll just have to make a blind choice, and that God will show me *afterwards* that I made the one He wanted. I want to know before I do it. And I hate this waiting.

I wish I had more Dave Matthews music.

My new favourite song. Cause it's the Killers and they rock.

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now ... here he comes!

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young

Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now, watch it go

We're burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
When you were young

And sometimes you close your eyes
and see the place where you used to live
When you were young

They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet
You don't have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now here he comes

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
(He talks like a gentlemen, like you imagined when)
When you were young

I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know

- "When You Were Young," by the Killers

I am a completely and utterly broken down and messed up person. I, strangely, almost do not want to try to be any "better." I just want to learn to accept God's grace.

"Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue." - Eugene O'Neill

For the past several weeks, I haven't had anyone to talk to about spiritual things, and it's been a little frustrating. (All I want for Christmas is an email on 1 John) When I wrote about love and grace and Philip Yancey's book, I was just hashing out my thoughts, and I wasn't expecting any response. I'm glad I got some. :)

I was doing the dishes the other day, and thinking, and I thought to myself, Amy, you need someone who can look you in the face and tell you every day that you need God. Which was slight hyperbole, but I'm waiting for that person. Someone to help me, push and pull me, talk with me, help me work things out, someone who knows who I want to be. The trip is twice as much fun when you don't go alone. And I can't wait until I get back home or go to my university and have people I can share everything I'm thinking about and struggling against with. I love all my friends, but I really want some family.

So if I ever ponder on heavenly things here, feel free to tell me what you think.

Every day I get sadder and sadder that my iPod is broken.

Legalism of Love?

so i'm reading this book "what's so amazing about grace?" by philip yancy, and i'm really enjoying it. i'm learning a lot and thinking about a lot and doing some refocusing (or trying to) etc. etc. etc. so throughout the whole book he talks about grace (obviously), and he brings up the question 'why be good if i know God will forgive me?" which is a reasonable question if you want to ask it. he went on to say that when we understand God's grace and love, we will be "good" in response to that.

'if we truly grasped the wonder of God's love for us, the devious question that prompted romans 6 and 7 - what can i get away with - would never even occur to us. we would spend our days trying to fathom, not exploit, God's grace.'

ok, that makes sense. i'm starting to worry about a cycle, though. because of God's grace, we don't need to prove ourselves or earn His love or follow the rules or anything. there's nothing we can do to gain His love and acceptance. so in one sense, we are free from rules. but when we realize this, we will supposedly start obeying Him voluntarily. how long will it be before we lose focus again, before we become intent on proving our love for God, before faith becomes a religion of works again? i'm trying to love people the best i can, because that's what God wants. your actions become tied to God's grace. seems to me like there are different motives, but we come again to the same problem.

i suppose it comes from pursing a life of love for God and people, which doesn't at all sound dangerous. why am i so disconcerted then?

doesn't matter, dear heart maker

I think there was one thing I learned in calculus my senior year of high school. I spent much more time trying to distract myself than learning (which was, quite frankly, much more practical). One thing I do remember, though, is the law of mutual exclusivity. If two things are mutual exclusive, it means they cannot both be true about an equation or a problem or whatever, not at the same time. If P is true then Q cannot also be true. It's an either/or principle.

Who said math is not applicable to real life? (Oh, me, right) If Americans landed on the moon first, it means that the Russians can no longer win the space race. You can't be both a Red Sox and a Yankees fan. If you're an insomniac, you can't be a heavy sleeper. There a lots of examples of this law of mutual exclusivity. And sometimes, it happens to people as well. You can't be in a relationship with one person, and friends with another. People swear by this law. I don't particularly like it myself, but I definitely understand why its useful. It's nothing bad; it's just life.

However, if doesn't mean that Russians can't still be interested in space exploration. It doesn't mean that insomniacs never get rest. And it doesn't mean that people can't care about each other even when they're not talking. There's no hope for the Red Sox and Yankees one. And the law is breakable. It just means that you have to make a different choice.

If you want to stick with the choice you've made, that's ok too. "I've mastered the art of dealing." I will look forward to Christmas.

Nothing would be better right now than a dance party with my friends to the "Numa Numa Numa" song. Yeah, that's right. The polish kid dance song. Nothing could be better.

Like Sunshine

I stubbed my toe today. Man, I forgot how much that hurts.

Today was an interesting day in the Wilson household. I was dead tired this morning, as I have ever right to be, not getting enough sleep over the weekend, due to me trying to save all my emails from AOL on Friday night (and then dad not cancelling the account this month after all) and Oxford night life on Saturday. I'm still tired, but the afternoon was better.

Today I've been in a good mood, and I don't even know why. In fact, it makes me a little suspicious. The positive outlook would be to say, Yes, God's giving me a break! Or, woo hoo, I've learned something *and* managed to put it into practice to improve my life. Or something of the more upbeat nature. However, I wonder if this is some false sense of security. Am I really finding happiness or am I just sliding back into a state of oblivion? I guess, the thing is, I feel like everything's going to be ok. No matter what happens. I guess that's why I want it to be the peace of God. Because it will be fine. It will all be fine. It doesn't matter what choices other people make, it doesn't matter where I go to school next, it doesn't matter if I barely manage to scrape by these next six weeks with shreds of my sanity left.

Regardless of what happens next, everything will be fine.

William Blake

What is it about best friends that makes them so irreplacable and miss-able?

‘And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me.
As our dear Redeemer said:
“This the Wine, and this the Bread.”’


Thank you.

Oxford

Freaking amazing.

and no need to worry that's wasting time
and no need to wonder what's been on my mind

every word you say i think i should write down
don't want to forget come daylight

"I am considering not how, but why, He [God] makes each soul unique. If He had no use for all these differences, I do not see why He should have created more souls than one. Be sure that the ins and outs of your individuality are no mystery to Him; and one day they will no longer be a mystery to you...

Why else were individuals created, but that God, loving all infinitely, should love each differently? And this difference, so far from impairing, floods with meaning the love of all blessed creatures for one another, the communion of the saints. If all experienced God in the same way and returned Him an identical worship, the song of the Church triumphant would have no symphony, it would be like an orchestra in which all the instruments played the same note. Aristotle has told us that a city is a unity of unlikes, and St. Paul that a body is a unity of different members. Heaven is a city, and a Body, because the blessed remain eternally different: a society, because each has something to tell all the others - fresh and ever fresh news of the "My God" whom each finds in Him whom all praise as "Our God." For doubtless the continually successful, yet never completed, attempt by each soul to communicate its unique vision to all others (and that by means whereof earthy art and philosophy are but clumsy imitations) is also among the ends for which the individual was created.

For union exists only between distincts; and, perhaps, from this point of view, we catch a momentary glimpse of the meaning of all things."

- C. S. Lewis "The Problem of Pain"

Wow. wow wow wow wow.

I never thought that looking into the past would help with my future. Don't they say you're not supposed to look back? Did they ever try?

I'm understanding things again. Things are falling into place. I'm nervous; this... "feeling" I have is faint, I'm almost afraid to label it. It's almost too underdeveloped to understand yet. Is it hope again, after I tried so hard to kill it? Is it happiness, that I thought was too unattainable? Is it just simply joy, a choice that with its determination is irreverent to pain?

I don't know, but I like it!

So it looks like the only way to move 600 emails from my old AOL account to my new gmail account is to go through them one by one and forward them. Should I do it? I only have until Friday. Unfortunately, I only have until Friday to submit my application to my other university. So am I going to have to choose which I want?

On a "high"er note (haha, I'm so witty), there's this story that has become a favourite of the children recently about a rat that loses one of his pet bugs in the garden. And there comes a point in the story when it talks about all the places that he looks around for Lester, his bug, and every time I get to "He looked around the empty plant pots" I always slip up and say "pot plants." I can't help it, even when I know it's coming.

Ever feel like your past is really something that happened to someone else? Or that your life could be told in quotes from sappy (but quality) movies and songs by Coldplay? Ever wonder if you keep making the same mistakes that you're trying to fix?

Life is good. I may still be a fool, but that's ok : )

When there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
One more son
If you can hold on
If you can hold on, hold on
I wanna stand up, I wanna let go
You know, you know - no you don't, you don't
I wanna shine on in the hearts of men
I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand

Another head aches, another heart breaks
I am so much older than I can take
And my affection, well it comes and goes
I need direction to perfection, no no no no

Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the blackburner
You know you got to help me out

And when there's nowhere else to run
Is there room for one more son
These changes ain't changing me
The cold-hearted boy I used to be

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the blackburner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

I got soul, but I'm not a soldier
I got soul, but I'm not a soldier

Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the blackburner
You know you got to help me out
You're gonna bring yourself down
You're gonna bring yourself down
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the blackburner
Yeah, you're gonna bring yourself down

Over and out, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done
All these things that I've done
If you can hold on
If you can hold on

- "All These Things I've Done" the Killers

Today, when it was just me and Josiah hanging out in the afternoon, he climbed up next to me and said, "Amy, I'm gonna marry you." And I laughed and asked him why. He got this sorta cross face on and said, "Just because I want to!" Then I told him that if he married me, he'd have to do everything I said. He thought about this for a minute, then said, "Mhmm." However, he also said it means I'd have to stay here in England, so I don't think it will work out.

Jessica told me I can say I got at least one proposal while I was in England. Thanks, Jessica.

I blog a lot more. I talk a lot more. I almost started journaling again.
I'm looking for a friend.
I'm trying my best. I'm trying my best. I'm trying my best. I promise.

"Til Kingdom Come..."

I was talking to my dad the other day, and I made a frustrated comment about my life. I told him I seemed to have this personality trait that liked to pick the most difficult path in life as the one I wanted to take. I like to do things the difficult way. For instance, I couldn't just stay at my old university through all four years. I couldn't spend my whole time off at home, with my family in a normal boring job, I had to go to England. I just don't like to do things the easy way apparently. And I was just expressing frustration to him that sometimes it made me so stressed out, trying to get everything to work together. And then he said to me, maybe sometimes it's not worth the stress. Maybe sometimes you should just take the easy option. And I thought about that a little (I was a little put off at first, I don't know why). And then I thought, but I don't want to. Every decision I've made, I'm glad I've made it. And I've made a surprising number of things work. Sheer determination has gotten me through some of my trips in England. I managed to get to England in the first place, and I'm being paid to be here. I waited three years, and it was worth the wait. The thing is, all these "difficult" things that I moaned about, they're what I want. In addition to that personality trait, I have another one, the one that motivates it, and I'm sorta proud of this one. I have a hard time being satisfied with good enough, with fine, with ok. I don't really care what sort of blood, sweat, and tears I have to shed for however many hours, days, months.

Fine just isn't fine with me.

If I fail, it won't be for lack of trying. And even if the less stressful option might be "worth it," I'd rather not take it. Sometimes the mistakes need to be made. Sometimes you need to cross the line to know where your limit is. Sometimes you have to know when to risk it all.

And if all my efforts don't work, and things don't follow through in the way I hope or plan or pray, then I'll just go at it from a new angle of making it what I want.

"Doesn't matter, dear heart maker. You decide."

Today was a beautiful day. It was the ditch-the-world, kite-flying-and-picnic, be-with-your-best-friends, reading-and-writing-in-the-shade day. I was working most of it. Work is a little bit strange at the moment. All the adults are stressed out about their personal lives. I'm struggling with my relationships right now, with my friends, with my family here, with myself. I think I'm getting the hang of it, though. I've given in and am now going to sleep ridiculously early, which means that I almost have enough energy to last the entire day.

I'm so psyched about NaNo. I'm going to write a novel about an au pair, because the weird family dynamics you get when you add in a third quasi-authority figure are just amazing. It's going to be complete fiction, though. And I've started ruminating on my next screenplay. I really want to rewrite The 4:05, but I need a hard copy, and I don't know where to print out a 50 page document. Of course, I was looking over it all last night, and it all looks completely brilliant to me, except for the horrid bits that need to be changed. Alas, I have to wait several months for any unbiased feedback. But I'm hoping to get it cleaned up for a contest next year.

I crave intellectual engagement.

Anyone else supremely disappointed by the casting of The Nanny Diaries?

You can't be scared of something that's already happened.

Thank God for Grace

Recently, I've been learning about God's 'tough love.' Tough love is, in itself, a familiar concept; most people know it through authourity figures, parents, grandparents, teachers, etc. A couple of months ago I went on a weekend trip to desolate and beautiful Norfolk and got tough love straight through my soul. Thank God. With me on the trip I had brought C. S. Lewis's book, The Problem of Pain. The man is brilliant, and this book is no exception. It explains divine love in so many beautiful aspects, even the harsh ones, that makes the reader grateful for God's unsparring love.

In one sense, it makes tough love endurable. But sometimes, only just.

Today I picked up a copy of Yancey's "What's so Amazing about Grace?" from my host family's spare bedroom. I heard about it a while ago and have been curious about it, though I'm not in general a big fan of common man theology books. It's pretty great. I've always been a big fan of love, and I'm learning how to love people better (slowly), but sometimes I forget about grace. Truly, love and grace are inexorable. Grace flows from love, and love would not be complete without grace. They are perfect expressions of each other. And suddenly, there's the way to be really happy in awful times. Embracing grace in times of hardship. Because I am only human, I can only *accept* purifying love. With grace I can be glad in it. Because in one sense, it doesn't really matter than. It doesn't matter if it sucks or I feel like I'm falling apart or I have no idea what my future will be like. Everything is forgiven, I'm accepted, and I have divine love that not only cleanses but also embraces. And all this for nothing I've done - *in spite* of what I've done. Could life get any better? I submit that it could not!

I got toothpaste in my eye this morning. I'm still not sure how it happened exactly, but don't try it. You may end up blinded.

What is it about hope that makes it so hard to kill?

Yesterday was trouble. Friday night, and I'm utterly exhausted in every way. And quite randomly, at a time when I was minding my own business (aka being self abosrbed), a lady I know comes up to me and says, "It's alright. You'll get through it. We've all been there, and it all comes out alright in the end." I was stunned, because I hadn't shared anything with her (though she could probably witness the struggles that happen with the children.) This woman has been through more than I could ever dream of enduring; It was encouraging, because sometimes I can be a great fatalist.

AND I got to talk to one of my best friends for the first time since being in England. She's amazing. She even let herself be late to a party by 45 minutes just to be there for me. :)

This is one of the most beautiful songs I've heard in a long time. Don't let the lyrics deceive you.



Oh doubt in the girl by your side
She’s feeding your pride
As you go for a ride down the star mile

Worlds arise as she lets you come in
A duo begins
To the Hollywood din of lonely

And all the gold dust in her eyes won’t reform into rain
You had and lost the one thing
You kept in a safe place
Remember the face
Of the girl who made you her own
And how you left her alone

All’s well at the base of the hill
You might need to fill
a prescription to kill off the silence.

Look down from your tower on high and take in the night
Look her right in the eye
She’ll listen

And all the gold dust in her eyes won’t reform into rain
You had and lost the one thing
You kept in a safe place
Remember the face
Of the girl who made you her own
And how you left her alone

Life comes to those that are true
The regular news
Over playing the blues with the light on

And if you burn the road that’ll lead you back to her in time
I'll watch you turn to stone
Can’t find the sublime

She’s moving on without you
The tide breaks
You watch the stars fade
They gather you back to their home
I guess it’s better than being alone

"Star Mile," by Joshua Radin

I had a great idea yesterday, for that one person who knows what I'm talking about. I've been struggling a lot with finding the "joy of the Lord" or peace or happiness or whatever you want to call it. It just seemed to elude me. And then I realized what part of my problem was. To be happy, it's not just enough to make God the center of your life. He can be your focus, and you can not be looking towards other things for your happiness, and you can still miss it. You need to actually make Him the center of your happiness. The fact that He loves me is happiness. So because God is the center of my life and my happiness, I can be happy even when my life isn't causing any happiness. Or something like that. Not that you won't ever be sad, but it's a start, for me.

If you don't like a social club's rush, then don't rush it. If you're not rushing it, don't make a flatline judgement about it and hurt those that are rushing it or have rushed it. No rush is perfect, and the blame usually lies with individuals and not the rush as a whole. No person outside of rush will ever understand all of rush; they'll just never get all the information, the attitudes, the sisterhood to form a true opinion. Everyone seems to have an opinion on what should be done, and everyone seems to think that they are experts in deciding whether people's motives are sincere or whether they just have power complexes and have decided that rush is their opportunity to exploit their evil genius. Please. All this rhetoric just shows those social clubs that 1. you don't know what's going on 2. you're judgemental 3. you have a big head. And that's not good for the social club - rhetoric spewer relationship. That will drive us away. If people find worth in Rush, let them rush in peace.

To be sadly honest, nobody knows until they're in a club, any club. It wouldn't be right for me to make judgements about Alacritis or Agathos, even though I have some privately forming. I just didn't want to rush those clubs. They weren't for me. If a club isn't for you, don't rush it. But don't think you know everything about it then either. If you talk about not judging, then don't judge. I give our rushees full permission to judge us. But I don't give it to anyone else.

You know you've been out of the country for too long when you get Become A US Citizen immigration spam email.

Why, why are You still here with me?
Didn't You see what I've done?
In my shame I want to run, and hide myself yeah
But it's here I see the truth
I don't deserve You

And I need You to love me, and I
I won't keep my heart from You this time
And I'll stop this pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need you to love me

I, I have wasted so much time
Pushing You away from me
I just never saw how you, could cherish me
'Cause You're a God who has all things
And still You want me

And I need You to love me, and I
I won't keep my heart from You this time
And I'll stop this pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need you to love me

Your love makes me forget what I have been
Your love makes me see who I really am
Your love makes me forget what I have been

And I need you to love me yeah
I need you to, love me, yeah yeah yeah
And I'll stop this pretending that I can
Somehow deserve what I already have
I need you to love me

I need you to love me, yeah
I need you to

Love Me

- "I Need You to Love Me," by Barlow Girls

Sometimes I feel like my life is a cross between "The Nanny Dairies" and Ibsen's "A Doll's House."

9/11/01

In the months following September 11th, a version Sarah McLaughlin's "In the Arms of an Angel" with sound clips from news programs and speechs was played on several radio stations. I cannot listen to this song without the breathe leaving me. There's nothing I can say.

We will never forget.


Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
Theres always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It dont make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

- "In the Arms of an Angel," by Sarah McLaughlin

The past few days have been all about partying.

Ok, maybe not really. But there have been a couple of festivals going on in the villages/cities around our area, and I've definitely made the most of my weekend. All weekend long there's been a food festival in Emsworth. Big to do. Seriously. Like, this thing is perhaps half the size of a New York City street fair, and they close down the center of town, it's all anyone does for the whole weekend, etc. But it's good fun. I tried some food - I tried a chili! it was very spicy - and managed to refrain from buying a lot more. I don't know - am I the only one who has trouble spending money on food? Like I'd eat lunch *before* going to the food festival, which doesn't really make sense. I guess it has to do with food's transitory nature. You buy it, hold onto it for about ten-fifteen minutes, and bam! it's gone, and all you're left with is a warm memory. But it was fun. I went all three days for a little bit of time at least. And we branched out from the usual au pair group and met up with friends of Nadine's from college, a German woman and a Polish guy. We're still working on meeting some English people.

The other festival was the Chichester film festival. It's been going on for two weeks, and I'm sorry that I was only able to make it on the last day, but it was still very cool. Nadine came with me and we had to get seats in the very front row because that was all that was left. It was a small theatre, so it wasn't too bad, and having infinite leg room was nice, though then I didn't know what to *do* with my legs. We saw "Driving Lessons" with Rupert Grint (that's Ron from Harry Potter), Julie Walters (who actually plays Ron's mother, though that's not her best accomplishment) and Laura Linney (who also plays in Love Actually. Great movie). Picking this movie was sort of a gamble. I mean, the synopsis looked interesting and I think Grint's been amazing in the Harry Potter films, but I didn't know anything else about it. It turned out to be great! It was so funny and original and decidedly English. It's a movie I'll want to get when it comes out on DVD not just because it's good, but because it will help me remember England and all the great stuff I've done here. Nadine loved it too, which was great because I had sort of dragged her along with me. The script was pretty excellent, the cinematography was really interesting, and the acting was superb. And it was just funny. I felt so artsy going to a film festival (though most of the audience were, ahem, "older patrons"), and it was a great atmosphere. Everyone just cracked up at the funny bits in a way that doesn't happen in big theatres.

I have nine weeks left in my charming backwater village in England. There's a lot left I want to do - hopefully enough time to do it in. It's a little sad to think it's drawing to a close. In the same way that I couldn't imagine coming here, it's strange to think of going back. I have grown into a life here, albiet definitely not fully and definitely not in a way that I would like to remain long term, but the girls who I would meet up with because they were the other au pairs and the only girls to be my friends really are my friends now. I have been so lucky (though I don't really think it's *luck*) with my host family. They are wonderful, and I've gotten to know these children so well. But I think most of all, I'm worried about leaving all the English people around me, because they have been a constant source of entertainment for us au pairs, and I'm just not sure that Americans will be as funny.

Tomorrow is Monday, and we start again.

Sometimes life is such a piece of work.

been up all night
staring at you
wondering what's on your mind
i've been this way
with so many before
but this feels like the first time
you want the sunrise
to go back to bed
i want to make you laugh
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers
i'm waiting
every word you say i think
i should write down
i don't want to forget
come daylight
happy to lay here
just happy to be here
i'm happy to know you
play me a song
your newest one
please leave your taste on my tongue
paperweight on my back
cover me like a blanket
mess up my bed with me
kick off the covers
i'm waiting
every word you say i think
i should write down
i don't to forget
come daylight
and no need to worry
that's wastin time
and no need to wonder
what's been on my mind
it's you
it's you
every word you say i think
i should write down
don't want to forget
come daylight
and i give up
i let you win
you win 'cause i'm not counting
you made it back
to sleep again
wonder what you're dreaming

- "paperweight," by joshua radin and schuylar fisk

So earlier today, I was taking Josiah for a walk, and we came across a pair of flip flops on the pavement. Ok. Someone just decided to leave their shoes behind, it happens I guess. However -- when I was walking along that same road today, there was only ONE flip flop! Someone had taken the other one. I'm still tracking down the clues, but I think it's gang related.

Sometimes, this town is just too hot to handle.

If I could spend a day hanging out with anyone, Zach Braff would be my second choice and Joshua Radin would be my third.

I managed to get through another day before caving in and buying the Last Kiss soundtrack (on a side note, I think Zach Braff and I would get along really well). Just like Garden State, incredible songs, that I'm in love with. Musicians amaze me (I get along really well with most of the too).


This could be the very minute
I'm aware I'm alive
All these places feel like home

With a name I'd never chosen
I can make my first steps
As a child of 25

This is the straw, final straw in the
Roof of my mouth as I lie to you
Just because I'm sorry doesn't mean
I didn't enjoy it at the time

You're the only thing that I love
It scares me more every day
On my knees I think clearer

Goodness knows I saw it coming
Or at least I'll claim I did
But in truth I'm lost for words

What have I done it's too late for that
What have I become truth is nothing yet
A simple mistake starts the hardest time
I promise I'll do anything you ask...this time

- "Chocolate," by Snow Patrol

10 Things

Today I:

1. Got a tan on the last day of summer (ok, maybe it's a little pink, but at least it's color)
2. Will probably cave in and buy the soundtrack to The Last Kiss on iTunes (who is *not* anxiously waiting for Zach Braff's new film?)
3. Finally went running
4. Buried one of my kids
5. Discovered that if you wear a necklace to the beach, you will end up with a funny tan line (guess I'm wearing *that* necklace for a while)
6. Was part of several minutes of successful kite flying (finally)
7. Realized that things at AU haven't changed; you still have to wait for forever and jump through hoops when dealing with finances or the registrar
8. Failed as a mind reader
9. Got rejected a Tesco's (for having an old 5 pound note. It was only afterwards that I thought up the brilliant plan of going on and on about how I need the milk for my four children in the morning before I sent them off to their first day of school in shoes that I had slaved to buy for them. I don't think it would have worked anyway)
10. Almost gave up on something, again

I had a dream last night that NaNo was over and that I won but I had forgotten to submit my novel for verification. It was very upsetting, until I remembered that in real life, November is still two months away.

Whew.

I wrote the last scene to my screenplay tonight. I wrote "the end." I only wrote one ending, and I think that's all I need.

I'm writing the last scene of my screenplay. It's a weird feeling. I've been working on it for two months and all of a sudden, oh, here's the end. The thing is, I can't end it. And it's not because of some weird writer subconcious psycho problem about cutting themselves off of their stories and their characters. It's not a withdrawal thing, because once I finish I'll put it away for about a week or so and then pull it back out to start on the rewrites. It's just that I don't know how it ends. It's the last scene, and I have my two protagonists there, and the question that's been hanging around for the past two months is still hanging in the air - do they end up together? The thing is, the story and I disagree. I want it to end one way, but the story tells me it can't possible end any other way than the opposite of what I want. And I'm pretty adament. I am, after all, the author; I'm supposed to be in charge, and I have a certain point I want to make. But it just doesn't work logically. And it doesn't work with the story. I just haven't settled this question in life, so it's hard for me to settle it in a story. I have my answer, I know how it's supposed to end, but I'm too cynical to let it happen easily.

Maybe I will stop blaming it on my cynicism and blame it instead on writer psychosis.

Still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
Still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
Still a little harder to say what's going on

Still a little bit of your ghost your weakness
Still a little bit of your face I haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That I can't say what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Lifetaught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

Still a little bit of your song in my ear
Still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon

Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage!
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know

- "Cannonball," Damien Rice

When we grow up, we're not going to be able to say things like "I'll close *your* account" or "Your face is a cheesy movie" or make dorky lighting designer jokes (actually, we'll probably keep going with those) or be nearly as funny as they are on Friends. I hope we get to make other jokes.

"Being an adult means to have a speedometer that marks 210 and not driving over 60." - Love Me If You Dare

I have my NaNoWriMo idea for November.

Wish I had what I needed
To be on my own
Cause I feel so defeated
And I’m feeling alone
And it all seems so helpless
And I have no plans
I’m a plane in the sunset
With no where to land
And all I see
It could never make me happy
And all my sandcastles
Spend their time collapsing

Let me know that you hear me
Let me know your touch
Let me know that you love me
Let that be enough

It’s my birthday tomorrow
No one here could know
I was born this thursday
Twenty-two years ago
And I feel stuck watching history repeating
Oh am I just a kid who knows he’s needy?

Let me know that you hear me
Let me know your touch
Let me know that you love me
Let that be enough

Let me know that you hear me
Let me know your touch
Let me know that you love me
Let that be enough

Things I've learned while being in England

I've now been in England three months, halfway through my stay here, and I've learned a lot, and I thought I would generously share my wisdom:


1. Always change money in the airport you depart from.

2. Even though that piece of wood looks immobile and innocent, things get dangerous when you go over it with a lawn mower.

3. Even though your happiness should not depend on other people, other people do affect your happiness.

4. England doesn't live up to its cold damp stereotype.

5. Some of the nicest places are in the middle of nowhere.

6. I can live anywhere on the coast.

7. People are more important than careers.

8. I do not have to have children if I don't want to.

9. I do want to have children.

10. I do not want an au pair.

11. The best places to write are in pubs. Too bad they are also the most intimidating places to walk into alone.

12. Ironing and cooking are a waste of time. They should be done only with company.

13. America has a beautiful culture.

14. It's not so much having a home to go back to, it's having someone to go with you when you're gone.

15. Priceline.com is not as brilliant as it appears.

16. I still spend too much of my time looking forward.

17. Your career is important.

18. Loving people is hard. Sometimes, so is hating them.

19. David Beckham is way too good for Posh Spice.

20. The French play dirty football. French people, however, are splendid.

21. Duvets are a smart idea.

22. Words like "brilliant," "posh," "cheeky," and "cheers" should be used more often.

23. I should never end a story when two people are making each other happy without acknowledging that they will at some time make each other miserable as well.

24. Oasis needs to make a comeback.

25. Last confessions are only for people who plan on dying.

26. Do not, under any circumstances, leave pasta cooking in the kitchen while you yourself are in your bedroom talking to your dad about your ex.

27. I can be content in God's arms with or without the hurt I'm hoping He'll heal.

28. If hospitality is a spiritual art then so is being neat.

29. The only thing more useless than a penny is a two-pence coin.

30. Perfect humility can change your life.

The only difference that I see
Is you are exactly the same as you used to be
The only difference that I see
Is you are exactly the same as you used to be

- "The Difference" The Wallflowers

Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay...

Tonight I'm going out with my au pair friends for one of our last times as the original group that was here when I came. Tomorrow I leave wtih the family for a week in Devon with my host mum's family. Next weekend I'll be exploring Cornwall. On Monday I'll spend most of the afternoon and evening in London, being a tourist, before I take the train to Stansted airport to spend the night. Then it's an early flight, landing in Sweden, and I'll catch a ferry over to Denmark for my five day four night tour of Copenhagen, Venice, and Prague. I'll get in late Saturday night, a fortnight from now, spend another night at the airport, and catch an early train back to Southbourne Sunday morning.

So if you don't hear from me in the next few weeks, that's why.

Cheers!

Josiah has a lot of sayings. He likes to repeat things over and over. I will get asked at least 6 times a day, more if it's just him and me for a couple of hours, "Amy, where your daddy?" even though he knows. A couple of weeks after I came, he found the innate delight in the word "Why." He likes to call his brother and sisters "boobiehead." He's just discovered the concept of matching and told his mum and I the other day that his sister's purple and pink water bottle matched his green top (other times he's better at this one). He tells us his tummy hurts when he's full or when he doesn't want to eat what we have for tea. And then there's a phrase that's still a bit of mystery.

He'll put his hand on his chest and say "My heart's bleeding."

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty
in the moonlight
overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne,
she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

- "Hallelujah" Rufus Wainwright

Woohoo, I am such a nerd. Tonight I added Portsmouth to my facebook networks so now I'm in an English network! Hey, it's super hard to meet English people around here.

I've finally figured out how to work the video on my digital camera. Well, more precisely how to get the video from the camera to the computer. Finally, after like, 6 months of having it. I was looking over some footage tonight. I sound like my big sis. Too bad she doesn't get off work until I'm already asleep. Stupid time difference.

This is the first week of the summer holidays. It's been a bit stressful and exhausting, but good as well. I'm looking forward to a relaxing Friday night with the other au pairs in a couple of days. Next week we're going to Devon to be with my host mum's parents and I'll get to see Cornwall and that area. I'm most excited about seeing Restmorel Castle which I used in a story back in my senior year, not knowing that ruins still existed. Then, the week after that, I'm going to Copenhagen, Venice, and Prague. It's going to be a crazy trip, but I'm so excited. Summer here in England is beautiful. It's hot and cloudless. I feel like the past week or so I've really settled even more here. It's a nice feeling.

It's about to storm outside. It's good. We need the rain.

Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah, they were all yellow.

I came along,
I wrote a song for you,
And all the things you do,
And it was called yellow.

So then I took my turn,
Oh what a thing to have done,
And it was all yellow.

Your skin
Oh yeah, your skin and bones,
Turn into something beautiful,
You know, you know I love you so,
You know I love you so.

I swam across,
I jumped across for you,
Oh what a thing to do.
Cause you were all yellow,

I drew a line,
I drew a line for you,
Oh what a thing to do,
And it was all yellow.

Your skin,
Oh yeah your skin and bones,
Turn into something beautiful,
And you know
For you I'd bleed myself dry
For you I'd bleed myself dry.

It's true, look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine for you,
Look how they shine.
Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And all the things that you do.

- "Yellow," by Coldplay

So I have a screenplay I've been working on, which for now I'll ungraciously dub "The 4:05" just so I can stop referring to it as the screenplay that I actually like. This story has a shape, since I'm a visual person. It's like a plait, and I was stuck there for a little while because I had a couple of unknown plot lines. Well you can't braid unless you have all the strands, and I was having a hard time writing without all my story. I worked on it every day this weekend - pubs are amazing places to write in - and I finally got ahold of those elusive plot lines. It was amazing. I think that's one of the most beautiful moments in writing, when it all falls into place and you're like "Ah ha! This is what the story's about, this is what the characters want to say, and this is how it's going to happen."

Anyway, writing The 4:05 has been relatively easy, once I will myself sit down to it. I wrote some tonight, unexpectedly. I typically don't like writing in the place I live, especially my room, but I had nothing else to do and I really need to work on this if I want to make a career out of it. So I sat down to write and I was thinking of a scene I wanted to do, when I realized that I had left off in the middle of another scene. And my thoughts on the written scene were "Oh. I don't know if I like this or not. I'm not sure it really fits with the whole story." Often, this would put me at sort of an impasse. But then I thought, "Hey, it's ok. This is the first draft, where I just get the story out. I'll just cut this scene later." So I finished writing it and went on with the other scene I had planned. It's a nice feeling, trampling on the internal editor. And I get twice the writing done. On a story I like.

I did a little college research today. One of the schools really does have a nice program, and I really like the school itself. I'm just afraid to get too excited for it, in case God wants me somewhere else. I have this skewed perception (I hope it's skewed), that God takes away what you want, all the time, every single time. Which sometimes I think He really does, to bring you closer to Him. But sometimes I think He wants you to be happy too. Um, I don't really know. But then again, I don't think it really matters too much either...

Ever close your eyes
ever stop and listen
ever feel alive
an you've nothing missing
you don' tneed a reason
let the day go on and on

Let the rain fall down
everywhere around you
give into it now
let the day surround you
you don't need a reason
let the rain go on and on

What a day
what a day to take to
what a way
what a way
to make it through

- wild child, enya

I've stunned even myself. I just booked a trip for Copenhagen-Venice-Prague, 5 days, three weeks from now.

http://www.xenos.org/xsi/resources.htm

Mary of Bethany by Jill Briscoe. It's sorta strange to sit down and listen to a recording of a lecture; I've never done it before. But I wouldn't recommend it if I didn't think it was completely worth it.

I feel like my whole life can be told in song. Mostly Oasis and Coldplay, with a little LIfehouse and Everclear, Death Cab, and the whole Garden State soundtrack. It one sense, it's beautiful because someone else knows exactly what I feel, and they've already told it much better than I ever could on my own. On the other hand, all it is anymore is me listening to these songs tell my life back to me.

It's hot here. Summer in England is about as far away from the stereotype gray and rain that you can get.

I had an awful dream last night. Actually, I had two nightmares and a nice dream that was really just a taunt. I can't remember what my first nightmare was, but in my second I had planned a huge party for a friend who was going away for a while. And I think it went off alright, except my friend was totally uninterested in talking to me and all they wanted me to do was iron the shirt they needed to wear while they were away.

It's awful ironing in this heat.

You know, you know?

If I could open my arms
and span the length of the isle of Manhattan
I'd bring it to where you are
making a lake of the East River and Hudson

And if I could open my mouth
wide enough for a marching band to march out
they would make your name sing
and bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings
I wish we could open our eyes
to see in all directions at the same time

Oh what a beautiful view
if you were never aware of what was around you
and it is true what you say
that I live like a hermit in my own head
but when the sun shines again
I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
but while you debate half empty or half full
it slowly rises your love is gonna drown

-Marching Bands of Manhattan, Death Cab for Cutie

Here in England, Dr. Pepper claims to be a "carbonated fruit flavor soft drink." I'm still trying to figure out what fruit.

http://www.biblegateway.com/keyword/index.php?search=heart&version1=31&searchtype=all&limit=none&wholewordsonly=no&startnumber=26&startnumber=51&startnumber=76&startnumber=1

Change my name

Slip inside the eye of your mind
Don't you know you might find
A better place to play

You said that you've never been
But all the things that you've seen
They slowly fade away

So I'll start a revolution from my bed
Cause you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside, summertimes in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so, Sally can wait
She knows its too late as we're walking on by
Her soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
I heard you say

Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows
If it's night or day

Please don't put your life in the hands
Of a rock and roll band
And throw it all away

I'm gonna start a revolution from my bed
Cause you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside, cause summertimes in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
Cause you ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so, Sally can wait
She knows it's too late as she's walking on by
My soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
I heard you say

So, Sally can wait
She knows it's too late as we're walking on by
Her soul slides away
But don't look back in anger
I heard you say

At least not today.

- Sally Can Wait, Oasis

It's 3:30 in the morning, and I'm awake. I'm having a startling hard time going back to sleep. I think I am more awake now than I will be if I fall asleep and get the other 3 hours of sleep waiting for me. I feel like my body is creaking inside. I'm thinking about things. I'm thinking about When Harry Met Sally. I'm thinking about things to say. I'm thinking about when to come home. I'm thinking about the imminent death of my computer and the urgent need to back everything up before I lose it all for good this time. I even had a fleeting thought about my sister and our childhood, but now that it's gone I can't remember what it was.

It's 10:36 back home, and I'm thinking about how I would rather be there than here.

Norfolk

Norfolk. Don't pronounce the "l". It'll sound like you're cursing, but it's ok with the Englishmen.

I went to county Norfolk this weekend. I had the abrupt opportunity to take Monday off, and by golly I took it. I had a lovely trip planned out for Bath, Cardiff, and Wales. It fell through. Friday, the day before I was supposed to leave, I booked a hostel in Norfolk where I had original thought about going but rejected because I didn't understand where the hostel was or how to get to it. More on that later. Still, I was happy to get away. Because there's not really much to do in Norfolk, especially the area I was going to, I was going with a firm determination to do nothing but read, write, and spend a lot of time thinking about everything. Woke up a little later on Saturday, wrote off a few emails, got ready and packed and I was off.

Let me just say that on Friday night, I had the highest esteem for the British transportation system. By Saturday evening, it had fallen far from my graces. Apparently I need to start taking hiking boots, my map of Britian, and a compass on my relaxed weekend jaunts.

Because the ticket man couldn't find the station that the online itenerary told me existed, my ticket ended up costing me 15 pounds more than expected. Ouch. I had to go through London, which was unlucky, though I did get to see the London Eye and Big Ben briefly from my window. I will admit, I do love the train stations in London. The expense was the only disasterous thing about my train ride. I arrived in King's Lynn at 420, right on schedule (I left at 11). I wandered around King's Lynn for a bit, picked up When Harry Met Sally at a sale at HMV (that is where my weakness lies. I am redeveloping my distaste for shopping, but movies will always get me), and went to the bus station to hop on over to Burnham Deepdale, where my hostel was. No such luck. The only bus from King's Lynn to Burnham Deepdale had left at 420, the exact moment I had arrived in town. I tried to ring the hostel; no luck. Instead, I hopped on a bus to Hunstanton, about 15 miles further toward my goal. 5 minutes into the journey, the bus breaks down. Fortunately, we get a replacement bus speedily. I phone the hostel again, this time getting a person. They suggest that once I get to Hunstanton there may be a bus at 725 or I should be able to get a taxi. The bus runs only in the summer. I think July qualifies as the summer. When we finally arrive at Hunstanton, the view is breathtaking. The sun is about half way down the horizon over the sea. It's beautiful. It's also a bit touristy, there were loads of people about, and I'm stressed about the fact that I'm still 10 miles from my goal and I saw no taxis at the bus station. I go back to the station around 710. No bus comes. I wander around, looking for the taxis that are supposed to be hanging around the station. No luck. Looking back, the reasonable thing to do would have been to go into a hotel and asked if they could ring a taxi for me. At this point, unable to find a taxi and believing they all must have gone home for the night and feeling a little stressed about the amount of money I've had to pay for transportation for this trip, I do the irrational thing. I decide to walk it.

Three hours later...

It was not a fun walk. It was stupid, really. Obviously, the thing to do was to go to a hotel and have them order me a taxi. No person in their right mind walks for three hours to get to their hostel in the middle of nowhere. But still, even though those three hours were at some points really very awful, I don't think I would have done it any differently.

I wanted to go to Norfolk because I read about it in a book. Over the past week or so I've been reading Never Let Me Go because it's been jumping off the shelf at me wherever I go, bookstores, libraries. I thought I would finally give it a try. It's an excellent read. In it, the narrator refers to a joke she and her friends have going on about Norfolk being the "lost corner" of England and how the joke develops into an idea that anything anyone every loses in England somehow ends up in Norfolk. I was walking along the marshlands on Sunday morning and there were quite a few boats moored upon the grass, there for who knows how long, and I almost shivered when I thought that these abandoned boats had once been lost at sea, and those people that they held were still wandering around Norfolk as well. I suppose the strange thing is, though maybe it shouldn't be strange because I came to Norfolk with this purpose, but I did find something I had lost, or at least misplaced.

I found my lost faith. Going to Norfolk was one of the most spiritual experiences I've had in a while. And while it was at sometimes wretched and sometimes incredibly painful, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I came to think of that three hour walk as my road to Damascus, probably because it's the only famous walk in the Bible, but also because of the intense experience it turned out to be. It was during this weekend, when I have never felt so alone in my life, when I've never been surrounded by such devestating and bleak beauty in nature before, that God showed me He never leaves. And it was a scary experience when the next day I sat on a little hill surrounded by fields and cried because I felt like He had left me too, but the beauty was when I just told Him I wanted to come home to Him. And then there was on the train back, when reading C. S. Lewis' the Problem of Pain, that my conception of God's love was so altered that I felt like I was plunging into new depths. I went to Norfolk, perhaps a little reluctantly, because I knew the weekend was going to be a lot of pain mixed with healing, but I am so pleased that my plans for Bath and Wales fell through. I don't know. Even looking back now, I wondered if that book kept catching my eye just so I would want to go to Norfolk, just so I could meet with God.

I'm scared. I know the way that spiritual experiences often go. They usually jump start your faith for a while, and then the effects get dimished by the cares in your life. I'm scared that will happen to me again, as it's happened before. I'm afraid that this draining 12-hour day job will sap my enthusiasm, that the struggle I have with the things I've lost but didn't find in Norfolk will make me despair, but I know what my life is right now. I am the seed that's been cast among the weeds, and the cares of life are distracting me. Knowing that alone is going to help. This is something different than your typical post conference or concert or missions trip glow. This experience had some sort of revelation that's unique for me. I want that revelation to be life changing. I need it to be.

Things that they don't have in England that I miss:

- Oreos
- Yellow legal pads
- A realization that England didn't win WWII alone
- Ink pens
- The ability to call whoever I want whenever I want
- America's Next Top Model
- Hot and cold water from one tap
- Drive in movie theatres
- Proper light switches
- Peanut butter/chocolate candy
- My family and friends

Sometimes I feel like I was a horrible person in my past. Then I'm determined that I will never be that way in the future. I almost wished that I had had someone to point out when I was being a jerk, but then I realized that I did. I just wish I hadn't been such a jerk that I didn't listen to them.

Here's to a love-ly future.

And if by "set" I mean "falling apart" and by "Bath and Wales" I really mean "Norfolk," then yes, my last post was absolutely correct.

So my last minute plans are set, and tomorrow I get to go on a long weekend trip to Bath and Wales. Hallelujah.

I had an awful time putting the children to bed tonight. Like, I mean, really terribly awful. Possibly the worst ever night yet. Why does no one use the word glum anymore? There were some fun times tonight, too, like the arrival of a previous au pair for a visit with us. But I had an awful night with the children, I'm feeling once again that I am too inept to understand anything, and I tried to call my dad for the second time recently and he didn't pick up. It's a minor holiday for us Americans, but I've realized that it does make me a little sad to think that everyone's got a reason to eat some great food with friends and family.

For my Fourth of July celebrations, I'm having a pity party.

On the flip side... I've gotten some good work done on the screenplay that I like. Maybe I should give it a title soon so that I can actually refer to it properly. I got to correct James and Jessica's pronounciation for once. A Bible study held here on Sunday gave me hope that I can find a beginning and a starting point for greater depth in my spiritual life. And in 10 days I'll have been here for 2 months. If we had clouds here in England, and half the time we don't, I'd like to think that I'd be able to find the silver lining.

I haven't been sleeping well these past couple of nights. I'll wake up for any reason, the stifling heat here, my phone calling me because I have a voicemail, I've having a strange dream, my subconscious hopes for too much and wakes me up. I never have problems sleeping. My iPod's broken so I can't even turn to Coldplay to sooth me to back to my dreams. All I can do is brush my laptop with my fingers and dimly recognize through eyes that are still half hallucinating that nothing's changed.

How does an artist who is called to be holy truly and honestly depict life in an unholy world?

What does trusting God really mean? Does it mean you let go yof your circumstances, become a bystander in your own life, just let things happen to you assuming that they're what God wants to happen? Does it mean trusting your impulses to be the ones that God's giving you, making decisions based on your interpretations of God's word and will, acting the same but being less bothered by the outcome? Or is it some place in the middle? And if it is, how do you know when to act and when to be acted upon?

Older people like to say things such as "before you were born" to feel a sense of belonging. They're painfully aware that the younger generation has the future without them, so they must claim the past before their successors.

I set my alarm early an hour for something that didn't happen and now I feel like the biggest fool in the world.

Josiah and I just played an interesting variation of catch involving a tennis ball and plastic golf clubs.

I've uploaded my pictures of Ireland on my webshots account: community.webshots.com/user/AmyRose86

Imagine me, trying too hard...

Last week, my host dad took my host mum out to London for her birthday. He took her to West End to see the Phantom of the Opera. He's been humming it now for the past two days. It came up on rotation on my iTunes today, and I decided that, though I have not seen it all the way through since I saw it in theatres, tonight I'm going to make myself a cup of tea, change into my pajamas, and drag my laptop into my amazingly comfortable bed to watch it and reminisce about an amazing part of my life.

My room always smells different than the rest of the house. I don't know what it is. But I'll walk into my room at night and it will smell like what we had for tea three hours ago. Or I'll slip in during the evening and I know the neighbors are barbequeing. Or I'll open the door and I'll have no idea what the smell is that hits me. It's funny.

I relaying a scene I had visualized to a friend (it's to the song Transatlanticism, about which I've been meaning to write a huge blog for the past three weeks). This scene takes place at a train station at the end of the story, and I've been trying to figure out how to get it to mesh with a concept I'm working with that also takes place largely at a train station (can't have the same motif in too many of your stories, which is a huge myth that I am trying to disregard). It's been frustrating, because this beginning and this end that I've thought up just won't feel right. And today it clicked why. They are truly two different stories about two different things. Even though one has no end and one has no beginning, I know they would never work together because they aren't telling the same story. One is a story about the struggle people have when they try to leave and one is about people meeting each other and helping them through difficult times. Well, that's the cheesy synopsis. Truly, one is about the struggle of separation and one is about the joys of friendship and intimacy. And while it's a little, well, typical of me to have too many ideas running around, and I fear that one will suffer from this over abundance and never get written, it's better than trying to fit these two pieces together. They would be wrong. And while I've done no real writing today, I feel incredibly satisfied with my progress.

Irish blessings

I have some sort of deep attachment to Ireland.

Since I've been in England, there have been times when I've been struck with a sort of longing for Ireland. England comes very close, but not enough, just similiar enough to remind me that I'm not there. And a few weeks ago I confessed to the youth leader of my church here that while I'd love to live abroad for an extended period of time, England is not a place that I have to live. I liked it well enough, but it's just another place I'm living, really. In the end I'll leave and look back on my time with warm feelings and nostalgia (I hope, of course), but I won't have the same sort of desire to return as I have to always go back to Ireland.

I got to go to Dublin this past weekend. It's a little strange, taking weekend trips to foreign countries. I had a nice time. I bought a Claddagh ring finally, which I had made myself wait to buy until I was in Ireland again. I spent a day wandering around Dublin, spent a night in Temple Bar, stayed in hostels for the first time (they are soo cool), spent a late morning/early afternoon by the coast (the Irish coast is amazing), watched part of the English-Ecuador world cup game in an Irish pub, hung out with a Danish girl and a bunch of Frenchmen. I prefer the coast and the green mountains of Ireland to Dublin, but it was nice just to be in the country again. The weather wasn't great half the time and I had to deal with a pulled muscle in my foot for the majority of the trip, but when I walked down O'Connell street at 430 in the morning to catch my plane to Bristol, I was sad to think that this could be the last time I'm in Dublin for a very long while. I'm going to get out to western Ireland still, but another trip to Dublin will probably not be for at least four more years. The funny thing is, as I was on one of the three trains I took back from Bristol to Southbourne, I noticed places that have become familiar to me, cricket fields, horse paddocks, train stations. And I thought of the children, how this first month has passed so quickly and I only have five more ahead of me, how one Tuesday in November I'll send them off to school with a real goodbye. And now I've realized, I'm not only attached to this wonderful family, I'm attached to this land. The cricket fields, the mill pond in Emsworth, the endless train tracks over field and hill. I may never find myself living here again, but it's going to be hard to leave. Harder than I thought.

Even though Southbourne is the tiniest town in the world. There are only three places that are not cities where I would consent to live: in a villa in southern France, in a coastal town in Ireland, or wherever the love of my life waits.

Darn.

When I made the switch to screenplay writing a couple of months ago, my main concern was trying to adjust to the completely different way screenplay writing worked, as opposed to fiction writing. The different focuses, the different format, different structure, different goals. I set out to conquer this uncharted literary territory and make it mine, to see if I liked it and could make a career out of it.

Today I sat outside a little pub in a little English town and wrote for hours.

Literally. I don't know how long I was there. But I got an incredible amount of writing done, and for the most part it was easy. My last few months at university I was in a creative drought. It was awful. Here I write all the time. Journal entries, long emails, working on my screenplay ideas. It's a great switch, and I'm rediscovering some of the joy I had in writing that I lost somewhere along the way in my panic to be brilliant. However, today I realized something that made me a little trepidatious.

I'm not sure I can write two genres at once. It was hard enough to try to write fantasy and literary fiction at the same time. But today I was looking back at some of the places where I've worked as an editor, and I thought about my fiction contributions or pieces that are waiting to be submitted, and I found myself wondering if I could actually sit down one night and write ten pages for a screenplay and then sit down the next night and outline a short story. I can't do them both on the same day. Today I can't even think about touching any of my story ideas, while if I had more paper, I'm sure I could continue with my screenplay. And it's not like I don't have any fiction ideas, because I do. I just don't think I can focus on more than one genre at a time. It's exhausting. It's daunting, just thinking about it. And that worries me a bit, because - even though I know I will probably never have to - I don't want to choose which one will be my focus. I want them both.

Sometimes I think maybe I want the world a little too much.

I did not rig this.

Which fantasy/sci fi character are you?

Princess Leia


A strong-willed herald of causes against injustice, you passionately strive to right the wrongs around you.

"Somebody has to save our skins!"

Today I used the last empty sheet of paper in my yellow legal pad. It's full. That's a great feeling.

Problem.

I am running out of ink in my favorite pen and they do not sell this kind here in England.

Solution?

Tally

I've decided that in honor of the crazy week I've had, I'm going to post my baking/cooking tally. Besides all the breakfastes and lunches I've made, I've also cooked/baked:

- Four teas (suppers)
- One batch of cupcakes
- Four cakes (all at once - someone got a little carried away and added a bit too much water)
- Three batches of icing
- Four loaves of bread

The one cake that actually got iced and decorated and everything, probably one of the most awful chores I've had to do to date. But I finally got cupcakes to turn out alright; and we don't get to eat them. They go to some church sale thing.

I just bought tickets to freaking Dublin for next weekend!

aahhh, i miss my friends

It really is a happy song.

If I could open my arms
and span the length of the isle of Manhattan
I'd bring it to where you are
making a lake of the East River and Hudson

And if I could open my mouth
wide enough for a marching band to march out
they would make your name sing
and bend through alleys and bounce off all the buildings
I wish we could open our eyes
to see in all directions at the same time

Oh what a beautiful view
if you were never aware of what was around you
and it is true what you say
that I live like a hermit in my own head
but when the sun shines again
I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in

Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
but while you debate half empty or half full
it slowly rises your love is gonna drown

-Marching Bands of Manhattan, Death Cab for Cutie

Today I got lost in an English subdivision after I missed my train.
Today I ate a baguette from the best view of the Duke of Norfolk's house, Arundel Castle.
Today I listened to Coldplay in the train station while the setting sun roasted me.
Today I made tentative plans to travel to Ireland.
Today I bought a ring.

The thing with the time difference is that half the time your tomorrow is my today and sometimes you're still even in yesterday.

I set fire to the oven mitt.

Yay, I got my first piece of mail! Thanks, Brandon. But, I supopse you specialize only in PCs, not Macs, huh? Pity.

In my first real home that isn't a studio apartment, I am going to have an amazing room. It's going to be a library. It's going to be a rectangular room with floor to ceiling bookshelves on the long walls. Wooden bookshelves, dark red wood. And the floor will be dark hard wood, too, with a rug in the center and a sofa and an armchair and a few end tables with lamps. The two short walls will be windows, and I will have skylights so that there is always sunshine to create gild the shelved wisdom. The windows will have window seats, except for one, which will have my desk. And I will always be able to go there and smell books and leather and mothballs and the spring air and the sunshine and the warm wood. And I will always be able to write. My library will always be full of love or devestatingly empty.

"Amie," as told by Damien Rice

Nothing unusual, nothing strange
Close to nothing at all
The same old scenario, the same old rain
And there's no explosions here
Then something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
I saw a spaceship fly by your window
Did you see it disappear?

Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me

Nothing unusual, nothing's changed
Just a little older that's all
You know when you've found it,
There's something I've learned
'Cause you feel it when they take it away

Something unusual, something strange
Comes from nothing at all
But I'm not a miracle
And you're not a saint
Just another soldier
On the road to nowhere

Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me

And Amie come sit on my wall
And read me the story of O
And tell it like you still believe
That the end of the century
Brings a change for you and me

I'm walking around with an oven mitt on my hand. And I actually enjoyed making tea today. I guess I have sort of a love-hate relationship with cooking...