the tingle of [sweet, sweet] anticipation

When you believe in your path, you walk stronger on it.

--Shirin Ebadi, first Muslim woman to win a Nobel Prize

I know I'm sure my mother would love that I'm beginning an entry about aspirations and goals and GREAT THINGS!! with an advertisement for alcohol, but seriously--what builds dreams better than a fine pint of guinness? And what could ever be so beautiful than watching it settle? It's like watching a waterfall in the jungles of somewhere, uh, . . . mystic?

Honestly, it's for the slogan. I promise.

At work, I told Grace (80+ years old and still working full time at a bookstore, can you think of anything more outrageous. And, by outrageous, I mean awesome)--she screeched and hugged me real tight. Marianne did the same thing. John's reaction was something akin to the YAWP! from Dead Poets' Society.

The awesome thing was that is exactly how I feel. Every time I see someone's eyes spring open wider, their jaws drop a bit, the lift of the shoulders--that's how I feel. Haven't stopped feeling since I thought my heart would stop around noon time Thursday. Amazingly enough, I'm still peppy at the end of a long day at work.

I have rarely, wait, never been so excited for something in my life. That application process was fierce, let alone the interviews. But, alas, I know that I am ready to rock out not only for AIESEC in Ireland, but in life in general. Not to mention that I am quickly falling in love with our team.

As dear Eleanor said,

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

The funny thing is I still don't really know how to write about it and how excited I am, beyond using those words just like that right there. First semester of creative writing courses, the professor told us you really knew something was wrong when a writer just stopped. No words. So, I am asserting that it must be something fantastic when they simply can't find words.

Simply, I am geeked. Wildly, intensely geeked.

what can i say...?

Well. I have no idea how to capture everything from the last ten hours into words. So, we'll do it with a picture:

Yes, that's right.
I am returning.

As an MCVP for AIESEC in Ireland 2006/2007.

After St. Paddy's, there was really no way to keep me away.

Especially with creepy characters like this walking around:

I will, of course, write a much better entry tomorrow when (maybe) I'll stop squealing with sheer, utter glee.

28

That is the number in cents of my current raise. YES! Retail, I LOVE YOU.

Something that makes me feel better is that I'm on my way out of here. Not necessarily to the end of my retail days, but definitely the end of my days in Michigan and--for an undisclosed/er, undetermined amount of time--the States. The more I talk about AIESEC with people lately, the more pumped I become to really go forward and further develop myself--aka, ROCK OUT.

Not sure which form it will take. Obviously, hopes are in one way much more than another. Time will tell.


The other thing that's funny is just, you know, talking to people about the necessity to go ahead and TAKE life, versus waiting for it to happen to you. I got into an argument in Dublin about it--about jobs and time in the sense of having a job to fulfill your purposes, being anything other than a job that's furthering you to a bigger purpose in your life, or goals. This argument also lead me to getting a new Bitches, Bitches name, but we'll not go there today.

Then, at work, I was speaking to Courtney about the possibility of taking loans so that she could focus on school and not have to worry about working full time. To me, it's clear as day that it may be a few thousand dollars that may take a life time to pay back, but she's never done it before. It will mean a lot to her--so it's not as if she'll squander the moneys. And, furthermore, she's worth it. It's an investment--so, out of all things, why not invest in herself?

Honestly, yo. I should sell loans for a living.

Today--got the review from work. I ROCK. That's all I have to say. And speaking to people (at work) and the shit that goes down in a big corporation that hasn't really discovered its own identity (and let's not talk about their shoddy brandage--I could talk about that for quite a bit). It's funny to see what will happen to an entity that doesn't allow space for the development, for any sort of drive. And they wonder why they're beaten every year by another big name, soul-eating corporation that is slowly devouring any sort and sense of independent bookstores.

All I have to say is--if your company policies make your employees dread coming to work in what should be the coolest place to work on the face of the Earth, EVER, well, then perhaps you're doing something very, very wrong.


Lately, especially today, I feel like going out and climbing some trees. Or, you know, laying in the grass and reading poetry (current read: The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry edited by Alan Kaufman & S.A. Griffin). (Although, today, the loads of alternate storms of rain & sunshine kind of keep me from doing it, let alone the massive giantesque earth worms that are now crawling the earth...) There is something really hardcore about painfully selective word choices. And, well, it is often odd for me to read these poems written in the sixties that seem to speak more of the sexual politics of today more than ever. I read and I read, then I look at the bio and my heart sinks to the carpet when I read that the poet died even before I was born.

You [I] think: shit, I'm so young! so much to do....
Then I [you] wonder how I can live my life as clearly as these words are written every day. I imagine it will have a lot of laughing, naps, long walks on the beach, loud-impassioned slam poetry, movies, jacks & cokes, and rolls of sushi at the core of its success(es).




In other news, I think my eyeball hates me and I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Believe it or not. I figure, hey, when your eye is leaving not-so-subtle signs that it's upset, it's best to check that shit out. It's not like a kidney, or something. Um, well, I meant that in the sense that I don't have two--but I assure you I do have two eyes. So, I suppose I mean that, well, um, you know, seeing with two eyes, 3-D & all, is da bomb.




I admit: I couldn't get into Veronica by Mary Gaitskill. I promise, I'll try again. But, currently, the poetry and Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid's Tale) are rocking my socks too hard. Oh geez.

lo mejor

You will be hardpressed to find anyone as hardcore, as badass as Antonio Banderas in Desperado. We're speaking real life, or even in film. Then he goes and makes, what, Spy Kids?
Is there no respect left in this world.

So, I must say that the trip to Ireland really sparked something FAN-tastic and wonderful. As Asier put it, I see the end of the tunnel. A bunch of ideas and paths have presented themselves. Obviously, there is one that I want much, much, much more than any other.

The point now is to challenge myself more than I ever have before--and to scare myself every step of the way. Really, what will you gain in life if you're not afraid of what you're doing? The bigger the chance of failure, the greater and sweeter that success will be, you dig?

Also, for the first time in months, I feel like writing. Just writing all the time. Indulging myself in words and meter--or something like that. But. The point of this is that I definitely will go back to school in a few years and get that masters for creative writing. From there, I think it's into the world of magazine. Maybe instead for the masters in fine arts, I'll go for... something else....


Michigan graduation comes in less than a month. It hit me that this class is one of the last that will tie me to the university. After they leave, there will be about five people left that I actually speak with in any sort of frequency. It's an odd sensation, let me tell you that. The worst of it all is that those who are international students will leave and never have a reason to return. Out of all the places you would go in the States, why would you go back to Michigan? Silliness. I hardly want to come back to Michigan and this is where my peeps are.

Right now, the point is to live wildly--in the sense of fully and, well, as a hardcore badass. Now, I will either go running, play football with the dog, do some pilates or yoga. Hmm. Or sit down and read some poetry. Who knows! The day is still young. Woot.

All I have to say is that it really takes a great friend to share. Especially things like a bed.

the day is breaking

My mom has taken to like looking at the pictures I've taken after being with friends. The problem with this is that she'll look at them on the camera, before the opportunity to edit them (safe for parental eyes) has represented itself (due to either laziness or otherwise, hmm, not sure). The problem with this is that there is something inexplicably wrong/uneasy about the woman who gestated you seeing pictures of drinks in your hand (perhaps sometimes one after another...), or someone licking your face.

So, this means that I'll edit the pictures from Casino Night 2006 right fast and then never worry about it again.

It was funny to spend the weekend back in Ann Arbor. This upcoming weekend may find me there again, but we'll see. At least Thursday night, hopefully until Sunday noon time. We walked around to show Asier's Spanish friends the city and it was odd to look at the city as a tourist. So many new buildings and stores are popping up. Not just small buildings, but massive ones to take places of empty lots or fields.

It's also nice to see somewhere with new eyes. Like it's the first time you've ever seen it. It felt like that scene in Dead Poets' Society where the professor has them stand on his desk, look around, then hop down. The same way in which looking at the world upsidedown can change the mood of the day, or looking down from the branches of a tree. You dig?



I also spoke with Asier. He's right--the end of the tunnel is in view and it has made all the difference in the world. I am obsessing with the written word again--about languages and the necessity to learn about fifteen more. About dreams that are as big as the sky and that seem as easy to fulfill as making toast. It's nice.

The green is becoming green, and I suspect that we'll have leaves on trees by next week. What could be better?