Tag Archives: cold

Sick of Lists

I got a small red binder in hopes that I could fill it with lists, and thus organize my life. One of this lists was, “Ideas for blog posts.” All my blog post ideas were lists.

You know, like, “five movies that have amazing fashion.” Or, “my ten weirdest recurring dreams.” But my last post was a list post, and I just wrote an article for  Ypulse that was a list article (not published yet, in case you go looking for it and it proves fruitless) and frankly, I am sick of lists.

The logical thing to do would be to go back to the tried and true method of writing about my fascinating life. During the school year this involves things like theater and interesting people and fascinating tidbits learned in class. But now that it is summer, life is…less fascinating. Still, maybe I should post about it after all. Okay. Here we go.

I love sunrises in theory. When I was sixteen I accidentally woke up early and saw the most beautiful sunrise. Since then, whenever I have gotten up early to watch it, it has always been invisible due to the cloud cover.

Last night the sky was perfectly clear, and so I thought, “Why don’t I wake up early and go watch the sunrise?” I set my alarm clock for a little after five am.

When my alarm rang, there was some brilliant orange in the east, the beginning of a stellar sunrise. I got up, wrapped the blanket around me, and went downstairs. I spent some time making myself cereal and tea, and then went on the porch to watch and eat.

What do you know. By the time I made it to the porch a long thick cloud had gathered on the eastern horizon, and there was no more sunrise. Bah. Some other day, perhaps. I ate my breakfast while shivering violently, and then went back to bed.

Once I had actually woken up for good I began the daunting task of digging the nails and rocks and pine seeds out of the cracks in the porch. While I dug I smelled something…an oddly familiar scent that I couldn’t quite place. I sniffed and sniffed, and then it hit me. I was smelling Hansie-smell.

Hansie-the-dog died in November 2010. Almost two years ago. His hair is still in the cracks of the porch. I found that beyond gross. Then I thought, “why is it so much grosser if the hair is from a dead dog than from a live dog? The hair itself isn’t any different.” I still don’t know the answer, but it just is grosser.

Last weekend I went to a church camp in John Day. This wasn’t cabin camping, this was real camping, with tents, no electricity, and no cell service. I love nearly everything about that kind of camping. I love how the food always tastes better, how the world could be ending and  you wouldn’t have to know about it till you went home, how you can’t shower but it doesn’t matter because no one else can shower either and you’re outside all the time. But there is one thing I don’t like about camping: I always freeze at night and the lumpy ground is both cold and uncomfortable. In short, I can’t sleep.

However, this weekend I discovered something potentially life-changing. Most camping trips require you to drive to the camp site. Thus, there is no need to spend the night trying to sleep on the cold lumpy ground. You can sleep in the car!

I slept both nights in the car. It was glorious. Soft and warm. There was even this emergency blanket in the glove compartment. It looked like a giant piece of tin foil, but I had it sitting on the seat beside me, and if I got cold in the night I just spread it over me. This would never work in a tent because it rattled and rustled like crazy and would wake everyone up, but in the car I was all alone and no one could hear.

You can call me a prissy wimp if you like, but I’ll just laugh it off because I’ll be in a good mood because of my good night’s sleep.

(It is true that some people may have trouble sleeping in the car, but I find myself sleeping in cars almost as often as I sleep in beds. Maybe not. But I have taken many many naps in cars during my college career.)

Now, my slice of life post has ended. Tune in sometime soon for another.

Emily has a Cold in the Head

Taylor is apparently either very excited or very scared at the prospect of getting his picture taken. Or maybe I caught him at the precise moment when his music was too loud, seeing as how he has removed an ear bud.

We will probably never know.

Alex is drinking something. Fascinating.

On the other side of the table, Brandon looks like he’s just seen a ghost, and Emma is afraid of the camera stealing her soul. Ha ha ha.

This was in the hour before theater, when the theater people tend to congregate in the courtyard cafe and make Scrooge related jokes. This time they were frantically going over their lines, since yesterday was the off-book deadline.

I didn’t really have trouble learning my lines. This was probably due to the fact that I really don’t have a lot of lines, only one monologue, and I grew up frantically memorizing Bible verses on Friday mornings at school so I could go out for first break.

Oh he’s a tight-fisted had at the grindstone, is my old high school!

(I’m just kidding. Knowing a lot of Bible verses comes in handy in life, as does being able to memorize things.)

Brandon: Scrooge has a cold in the head. Wait. Can you have a cold anywhere else?

Emma: I have a cold in my hand!

Alex: I have a cold in my foot!

(Brandon actually had a cold in the head for real, as did Emma, and I think they gave it to me because now I have a cold in the head. Girr.)

I made a habit of mocking Brandon by quickly memorizing this monologue he was struggling with. I actually only memorized the first part but at least it made me seem smart.

“This was not addressed to Scrooge, nor to anyone whom she could see, but it produced an immediate effect. For again she saw herself; she was older now, a woman in the prime of life. She had not the harsh and rigid lines….something about care and avarice…”


Now I am at home with a cold in the head, and I think I might shuffle in my slippers to the door, and if you ask me what is on my cheek I will say, “just a pimple. A perfectly ordinary pimple.”

The cold, I think,  messed with something in my cranium, because all I can think about are lines from the play, running over and under each other in my head, in the middle and out again, round and round in various stages of affection, and all ending up in the wrong place.

Till next time…

God bless us, every one!

Colds and Christmas Stories

I have a cold. I went to church and met people with colds. I read blogs, and those people had colds. Even the comic strip characters had colds.

Or hayfever. Same diff. Sort of not.

I wallpapered my room yesterday with much help from my mother. I still haven’t gotten my epic christmas story done. It is forming in my mind.

One of the best Christmas stories I ever read was on The Beachy Complex website when it was still running. I think it was a true story.

The story began in a Sunday morning church service, when there was a bunch of mistletoe hanging above the pulpit, and everyone felt kind of awkward about it and no one knew who had put it there.

Then the story told about this couple who came with the youth Christmas caroling. I think the guy had been a member of the church, but he left, and was dating this non-menno girl. Rumor had it that they would kiss each other.

Then, in the last part of the story, the guy who was narrating the story went to church and saw pages scattered everywhere. They were pages of a Bible. He picked them up, and saw verses about people kissing. You know, like, “Then Isaac kissed Rebecca…”

Blast, I wish I could remember the story better. It was one of those stories that doesn’t really have a blatant point but made you feel all shivery and thoughtful. I remember it was a little rambling, could have used some editing. Does anyone have any idea where I could get my hands on that story? I have a huge itch to read it again.

Maybe I will start a collection of epic Christmas stories.

I said yesterday or the day before that I would like to write an epic Christmas story and wallpaper my room. Remember? Maybe not. Anyway, the wallpapering of my room went okay, all things considering.

There is something beautiful about the texture of wallpaper, and the extra oomph it gives to a room. Also, it completely went out of style and now people who are very cutting edge are starting to get into it again.

Hee hee. Yeah that’s me, cutting edge. I totally wore mis-matched socks before ANYONE else. ha.

I came across the pretty green wallpaper when I was in Virginia. I went to the thrift store and they had shopping carts full of rolls of wallpaper for a dollar each. I found a roll of pretty green paper which I thought I would use for craft projects.

I covered a big box with it and used it for a laundry hamper. That was over a year ago.

When I moved to Oregon I decided to use the wallpaper to cover one of my bedroom walls. I thought one roll would be enough, and it might have been, barely, if I hadn’t used some earlier to cover that box.

Well anyway, in the end Mom and I were peeling old wallpaper from the box, cutting and pasting the salvageable parts in order to get my wall covered.

I was fully expecting to go tell people that the way to wallpaper without breaking the bank is to pick up a leftover roll at a thrift store and only do one wall. Now that I’ve done it, I would advise you to only attempt that if you can find two rolls. My wall was very small, and I barely had enough.

Oh blast. You want a picture now, don’t you? Well I don’t have a picture. So there.


Now that that’s done I think I will write an article and re-design a green dress. Also, write an epic Christmas story. I really really want to write an epic Christmas story.