Brain Jello

I've been thinking about a few things lately. I can't lay them out yet because I'm not done thinking about them. I just want everyone to know that I actually have been using my brains, even though I am not in school being forced to use my brains (in sometimes frivolous and awful ways...general ed I hateth thee).

Here is a list.

Things That Will Change Your Life:

- Jr. High
- Car Crashes
- God
- Dating
- High School
- Best Friends
- Deaths of Others
- Words
- The combination of human genitalia
- The actions of people you don't know
- Cats
- College
- Moving away from home
- Calling your parents
- Driving
- New York
- Electricity
- Chemistry
- Forgiveness

There are more. Obviously. But I'm tired and am currently being very unwise.

Dancing to Windchimes

I do my best thinking at night. Waking up tomorrow is going to suck, but I think it's all worth it in the end.

Perfect Love

Today. Today I wonder if perfect love reaches out the most to those who are wounded.

In my head I have an image of Jesus (whatever he looks like) and the 'good' are surrounding Him. They are smiling and carrying their Bibles and they've got really sweet cross necklaces. You know what I'm talking about, the ones that are made out of the two little nails. Right, the crosses that remind us of what Jesus suffered. Good. I'm glad we're on the same page. The 'good' are cracking up and singing praise songs and waving their little hands in the air all around Him. He looks around at his troupe and smiles. Surrounding this group of the 'good' is another group, still His and still hopelessly cynical. They're the 'bad'. No, no, they're not the 'evil', that's different. This the group who want Jesus as much as, and if not more than, the 'good'. They want what he says to be real, tangible, and rampant in this world. They desperately want the Church to be something other than a poster-child for hypocrisy, sin, and idolatry. They want love--pure, passionate, life-changing love. God's love. Jesus' love. But look, they've been pushed out by the 'good'. Why? Look at them. They're obviously not up to par. Clearly they're against following the good old fashioned rules. Look at them. They seem to think it's okay to smoke and drink and laugh violently. God hasn't eradicated all of their sins yet. So the 'good' get together to teach the 'bad' a lesson. No love for them. Just painful truths about how they're not living up to the standard of the 'good'. They're spurned. Spurned by the 'good', those who should love the most. So the 'bad' stand on the outside. They're angry, confused, cynical, hating their brothers and sisters but trying to love Jesus. They're wounded.

And all the hand waving and loud singing of the 'good' cannot distract Jesus from the fact that His bride is broken. Raped of her unity by Pride. Accosted by Hate, Jealousy, Self-righteousness, and Fear. She plugs up Love so that it cannot escape the boundaries of her body. No one may have it, no one may receive it unless they take the right steps and say the magic words and don that cross necklace. Now you're clean! Now you're worthy of love! Congratulations. Jesus loves you now that you follow Him.

So the 'bad' stand there on the outskirts. They want Jesus, they want the New Testament church at the beginning of Acts, they want that all-consuming fire, but not at the price of fitting in with the 'good'. Screw that to hell.

Do you see what's in my head? There's just no way that perfect love holes itself up with the 'good' people because it's apparent that there are other people in the world who desperately need perfect love. Everyone needs perfect love. And I have a feeling that perfect love reaches out more for the broken, the wounded, the hopelessly cynical, the person who sins in all those ways we're so familiar with. Because they need it. Because they don't want a pat on the back for their impeccable service record, but because they need perfect love. God's love. Love that strives to meet needs no matter what the cost.

What?! Are you CRAZY?!

Things that are better than finishing your last paper/final and realizing that summer, glorious summer, is now standing in front of you, reaching out its hand and beckoning:

1. Jesus coming back.

That's pretty much all I could think of.

In other news, I'm fairly certain that the front lawn has been watered twice in the last 12 hours. Once at 5pm, and now at 5am.

So. Do you want to know why I'm awake at 5am? You can probably guess. Hint: I can absolutely assure you that I did not in fact wake up this early. Because if I woke up this early it would only be because I needed to pee really bad and I most certainly would not get on my computer when my luscious bed is calling out my name. "Alise.......Alise......guess who is warm and wonderful?"

No. I'm up and awake and buzzing because I had coffee at 12am this morning, right before I got down to business and started writing out the rest of my final. And now that everything is done (final completed and paper written) I can't find the end of quarter exhaustion in me because I have no caffeine tolerance at all. That's right, I like to keep my caffeine tolerance low. That way when I really need to stay artificially awake I only have to down one cup of coffee instead of a bazillion before I'm jittery and running around like a crazy person.

I've found that this also works with medicine. If you don't take medicines like Tylenol or Advil until you really, really need them, they'll work much more effectively. Although I'm actually more convinced that those two drugs are really placebos and we're all just suckers. Billion dollar industries strike again! Those wicked jerks.

Feeling the Pinch

All my life I've observed Daylight Savings Time. I've always thought it was a weird concept, but, not being from Arizona, I went with it. I haven't really give much thought to DST, because other than the week that we spend recovering from the time change the change doesn't make too much of a difference. Every time DST has happened in my life, I've always welcomed the change, as if this next time change were the best thing ever. "All right! It's getting darker early! My favorite thing!" or "All right! More daylight! My favorite thing!" is what I'd think. But now that I really ponder DST, I feel that the summer version of things is a lot better. What is there that's better than the sun going down at 9 pm, giving me and you and everyone in between ample time to put homework off and crave summer? Not much.

Tomorrow is the final critique for my ceramics class. I went into the art building today to collect all my projects and see what I've got. It's not much, just some thrown pots that are getting increasingly better (hallelujah!), a tiny teapot (that I chipped today! Horror of horrors. I was so mad at myself), and some random things. I don't know if I really followed any of the projects that we were supposed to do. I don't feel too bad. But I was surprised at the lack of quality in my work. While I was making all of my sweet pots and bowls and teapots I felt particularly proud of my accomplishments. But I look at them now and criticize my work like there's no tomorrow. It's just....not that good. :D Nothing to be ashamed of. I take it as a sign that I'm getting better at ceramics. I hope it's a sign anyway.

Photography is next. I'm stoked for fall quarter. Taking on the Art minor is the best thing that I've ever done. True, I feel very uncreative when face to face with artistic giants and geniuses who actually have something that they want to accomplish. However, all of that is nothing. Being encouraged to think strange thoughts and make those thoughts into reality is gratifying.

Is it a waste to be really, insanely good at only one thing? Is it better to be good at one thing? Or is it better to be a little good at various things? I don't know the answer to this question. I think that in some respects this question is a little impossible to answer.

Good news: The bluejays are gone from the backyard.

PS: The Spring Quarter is almost done! This is finals week. This is the physical manifestation of relief.

Urbane Wit

Instructions:
Go to www.urbandictionary.com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the definition it gives you.

1.) Your name? Alise

A-

The most amazing girl in the world. Men fall at her feet and worship her. She is extremely sweet but if you piss her off you better watch out. She WILL kick your ass.

B-

An emo chick that cuts her calfs and goes on phycotic raids on how big of a loser she is,,,, she may also have testacles.

2.) Age? 20

A-

Bag of Weed, costs $20.00 dollars and is enough to make 4 fat joints.

B-

the number before 21 and after 19. generally used when counting.

C-

The age you stop being a teen, the year before you turn 21.

D-

The old age and death of a typical anime character.

3.) One of your best friends? Emily

A- slang term for a highly attractive and sexually intriguing individual.
B-

If you were this girl you wouldn't want to be anyone else, because you would be the most attractive girl to walk the streets. Spending one day with her would not be enough, she is such a nice person she makes Princess Diana look like Hitler. Plus she's well into Bristo.

C-

A song sung by rappers

4.) What should you be doing? Ranting

A-

To speak agressivly about somthing. or to take your own tangent about a subject and talk for a long time in a passionate manner.
B-

To give your two cents on a subject.

C- The Poor White Persons version of RAP, in the sense that it a specific kind of spoken or written format, blending artistic expression, personal experience and politic protest and is usually written for an audience of peers in mind. Like RAP, it is an angry but non-violent form of political expression. Punk Music is to Ranting as Rap Music is to Rapping. Today, poor whites, perform Rants in pubs, pod-casts and on the Internet.


5.) Favorite color? Green

A-

1) marijuana 2) money 3) when somebody is hatin or bein wrong

B-

Political party that never gets respect it deserves

C- A hue of color in between blue and yellow.

6.) Hometown? Bakersfield (okay, well, not really. But whatever.)

A-

With a population of nearly a half million, it is the third largest inland city in California. God knows why, it's a pretty horrible place, with summer (late May-late October) temperatures averaging in the high 90s and air quality that can practically disable you. Winter is short and usually doesn't get colder than 50 degrees in the daytime.
B- Where delionns('08 ers)come from.

7.) Month of your birthday? May

A- may is the month where teachers think that they can control a classroom but really nothing gets done and no one cares about their grades anymore. usually this happens because summer break is only 30 days away
B- The month your parents had sex in if your birthday is in February.
C- cool; sexy; hot


8.) Last person you talked to? Mom

A-

The woman who loves you unconditionally from birth, the one who puts her kids before herself and the one who you can always count on above everyone else. Just telling her your problems makes you feel better because mom's always know how to make it all go away. Even if you fight, know that she's just looking out for your best interests.

B-

a common joke that teenagers use when they are too lame to come up with any other comeback.

9. One of your nicknames? Duck

A-

A duck is a wholly wonderful creature. They also say "quack"

10). Day(s) you're not looking forward to this week? Wednesday

A-

Often known in the Christian religion as Sunday's understudy. A generally normal day. Often called Hump Day, because of it's location in the middle of the week, and by the time Wednesday is done, the week is on a down hill roll.

11.) Now hit random on UrbanDictionary and see what comes up: T Dot

A-

the best place to be

B-

Toronto Ontario, in Canada

Under the Covers

"Yet another creative writing attempt! Constructive criticism always welcome."

So tonight I looked under the covers and found a speck of dust that was your body. I put my finger on that dust. It dissolved into the sweat that was on my skin. Now you’re lost somewhere inside of me, cruising around my body, mingling with the red blood cells and running away from the whites. You’re a foreign invader; they’d get you if they knew you were there.

The next morning I looked under the covers and I found nothing there. The little dust speck that was you had fled from my body. I don’t know how you escaped. I feel certain that the whites didn’t get to you. I can feel your presence in the world. But you’re not inside of me anymore. You’ve left. Maybe you left through my tear ducts, which would be an appropriate way to go. Or perhaps you left through one in a billion pores, taking a ride on the sweat train. Another appropriate way to leave.

I went to work and then to the chiropractor and then to the grocery store today. I thought about you the whole time. When I got home I had forgotten what happened. I rushed into the bedroom and threw back the covers and there was Marty, that dumb white cat you insisted on buying in July. I hissed at the cat and fake-lunged at it. He bolted from the bed and torpedoed out of the room at 100 miles per hour. I searched frantically for you on the bed but all I found was cat hair and dander. After an hour or so I remembered you were dust now.

That night I looked under the covers and found a crumb that was your body. I put you on my tongue and tasted you like I’d done so many nights before. You were chocolate and Burberry and conditioner and now you were inside of me again. I went to sleep peacefully. You were not foreign tonight. The whites would not get you.

The next morning I looked under the covers and I found Marty again. He had snuck in during the night and curled up on your pillow. I petted him and he purred his appreciation. We talked about you until my boss called and asked if I was going to come in today. I told him I was sick, which isn’t a lie, but it’s not the truth either. He told me I was going to have to get on with life soon. Marty licked me with sympathy when I hung up the phone. I wish you had told me you were leaving.