The month of birthdays.

Today

I'm just thinking about how special this little boy is.

When I first met him as a teeny, flat-headed 2-month old fluffy blue bundle, I never realized he would become my brother, my dear friend, and one of the greatest joys of my life.

Happy 10 years, Ethan!

I love you, crazymonkeybuttonnose.

p.s. there are so many birthdays this month. I am excited about them. Except, I can also hear the death-toll of 22 growing ever-louder...

A few thoughts for today:

He either fears his fate too much,

Or his desserts are small,

That dares not put it to the touch
to gain or lose it all. 
-James Grahame (1612-1650)

"Daring, n. One of the most conspicuous qualities of a man in security."

-Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914?) 

"Be bolde, be bolde, and everywhere, be bolde."

-Edmund Spenser (1552-1599) 

I'm sensing a pattern.

And then she was gone, part two

Sometimes your lovely little bestie is in England.

And it's not fun! (for you)

But it's okay because you cover her favorite song and hunt down everyone who loves her.

You are so loved, Brookie J.

Happy birthday!

Nan

I had fun this weekend.

At:

Goth Prom

 

and

Octoberfest.

 (The "band" was called "The Bratwursts" for the evening)

I love it when Halloween time lasts forever.

Love, llamas, and oops-- no homework,

Banana

type cast?

Why is it exactly that I always play the ill-fated sex symbol?
For example:

 

 Susannah in Joyful Noise back in Hawaii...

 Sibyl Vane in The Picture of Dorian Gray this spring...

And, a week or so ago, I finished being Constance in The Three Musketeers.

Just to name a few.
Well. 

I'd understand if it was just a few times. But I'm all set to play Susannah again this Christmas at the Covey Center (hopefully as a brunette this time). I am honored, of course, but it still makes me wonder...

do directors know something about me that I don't?

You know, Marilyn Monroe said: "Being a sex symbol is a heavy load to carry, especially when one is tired, hurt and bewildered."

Not that I'm really any of those things. But in all these plays I'm always the one loved, left, bruised, abused, used, and, frequently, killed. But at least it's because they think I'm pretty...

um.

Hopefully I'm just a good actor? 

Unfortunately, I know that I'm not, really. 

And that I am a little self-destructive in my love habits. And just sort of generally unlucky. And I keep gravitating towards these things that hurt me so bad and then, well, basically kill me.

And sometimes all it takes is a small tidbit of new information. 
And I'm dead.

Oh well. At least I'm pretty.

Pff,

Banana

the sunset tree

this lovely indian summer we've been having 

has found the pillar house bunnies 

basking in the late summer sunlight on the lawn under the trees.

AllySnack warbles.

Kato reads us interesting facts on her iphone.

And I daydream about pumpkin pie and new running shoes.

But even though the weather has been amazing and good things keep hopping right into my life, the real magic of it all is that, 

well,

for fear of sounding overly sentimental (actually, I don't really care. Watch me), is these little angel people I have here. 

Seriously.

I am so so so lucky to have the friends I have. Friends that make me brush my teeth and share their closets, beds, and other-worldly cheering-up powers and speak with me in an accidentally-developed dialect incorporating baby talk, bunny speak, and overall incomprehensibly incorrect grammar. And they write songs with me and sing them and generally just make my life a happy thing to live.

I guess it can only be summed up thus?

"Oh wonder!

How many goodly creatures are there 

here!

How beauteous mankind is! o brave new

world

That has such people in't!"

-The Tempest,  Willie Shakespeare

Now how 'bout them fall leaves?

eh?

love love love,

Nan.

As loud as a lover's words.

He said, "Could you watch the world burn with me?"

And I figured I'd have to think about that.

But it sure was nice. 

And then Iron & Wine said, "Oh, how the rain sounds as loud

as a lover's words.

Now and again she's afraid when

the sun returns."

And so I thought about it. 

Have a beautiful weekend.

Tristesse?

trist·esse foreign term \trē-stes\  - melancholy; sadness.  Origin: French

I can only come up with four possible explanations for any level of tristesse at this point in my mortal existence (i.e. today).

Could it be because: 1. I drank half and half with my Honey Nut Cheerios this morning, thinking it was my roommate's milk (serves me right for thinking I could borrow just a little)? Good at first, nauseating after the second bowl.

2. I watched When Harry Me Sally last night, and now I feel lonely? (Serves me right for thinking, "yay! Let's watch a happy romantic movie!")

3. I had a dream last night I was married to someone to whom I am most definitely not married?

4. I'm just a dummy dumb dumb dumb?

What do you think? I have no time for the unexplainable,  deep-set, french variety of sadness.

Run Away

Swiss Days 10K today.

You didn't think I could do it, did you?

Did you!???

Team Girl Power: Kimberly, Mika, Michelle, Moi, and Jamie.

Shame on you.
(Shame on me for thinking the same thing)

 I'm running a half marathon in October.
I ate a donut as soon as I finished.
:)

Love, infected blister, and running through the mountains in the morning,
Banana

I had a dream Bunny came home, but she looked like a cat.

Bunny and our good friend, Orson.

I have a sneaking suspicion that it 's due to learning about Hinduism right now in my Humanities of Asia class. My diligent little unconscious was applying academia to real-life situations!

Bunn Bunn was either reincarnated as a kitty, or she had had to alter her appearance in order  to survive on the harsh streets of South Provo.
But either way, she came back! And the longer she was with us, the less she started looking like a cat, and the more like a rabbit. 
It was actually strikingly similar to  someone recovering from Polyjuice Potion, now that I think about it. We discovered a fluffy bunny tail under her kitty tail, and her ears started growing and flopping. We were so overjoyed. We ate carrots and sang a  song of tear-filled reunion and blissful hopes for the future.

It just felt so real, you know?

I had a dream  I met my ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend (not me, someone else) in a public restroom. I recognized her from Facebook stalking (don't look down on me, you do it too), and sort of followed her into the bathroom stall. We had a joyful meeting once she recovered from the shock, but then we realized our shared ex-boyfriend was standing outside the door. We both took extreme pleasure in making him wait for us for once.
It was beautiful.

I had a dream it was time to wake up, but it wasn't yet.
But then it was.

I feel a little visionary. I feel like today's horoscope, tomorrow's fortune cookie, and last night's dreams alike would tell me to look for answers in unexpected places. I feel like it's time to wake up and to put some things to rest. 

Love, clarity, and karma,
Banana

There are no birds in last year's nest (Or, I can't tell you my wish)

(major banana points if you can attribute the title quote.)  Tomorrow morning I'll be in the first French class of my super senior year of college. I suppose that's something of a big deal. (Then again, perhaps as a super senior, my opportunity to be a big deal has passed me by and I've finally broken the first day of school spell. I doubt it, though. I've never met anyone with my level of enthusiasm for office supplies) 

And I, being the ritualistic individual I am, thought this time of new beginnings, regenerations, and comings and goings (bye bye, my Brookie and Courtney Bunnies) called for some fire in the sky.

We celebrated the past and future (and most especially the present) by climbing up as high as our little house would let us go, and lighting some magical wish lanterns.

Mckay and me giving birth to our wishes.

 Here's the thing about magic: sometimes you don't wish hard enough the first time, and your lantern nearly catches your sweet elderly neighbors' house on fire.
But I wished so so sooo hard the second time, and even though I can't tell you my wish, I can tell you that it flew so high it looked just like a star.

And that I'm pretty sure it was.

And that after a few false starts (aka new years, new people, running away to Europe, etc.) I finally feel like a new beginning is in the air for me.

Which feels an awful lot like a wish come true. 

Here's to new things.

Here's to goals.

Here's to the beautiful fact that I'm not afraid anymore and I think I'm ready to start living.

cool.

Love, lanterns, and lightning,

Banana

And then she's gone.

Sometimes your bestie walnut muffin/ artistic soulmate decides to move to London.

 Obviously you're sad.
So what do you do?

You play with an old Polaroid camera and send wish lanterns into the sky from the roof (and almost burn down the whole world) and watch the most incredible lightning storm and wait patiently for her to come back.

Come back, Brookie.
Come back, Bunny.
Come back, Summer.

...please?

love, Nan.
p.s. look at her beautiful art she's leaving to make even more beautiful: here

And then the Dot came back a bride-to-be

 

So, my favorite girl who lives in my room went on a little trip and decided she wants a new roommate. 
A boy one.

Forever. 
  Congratulations, Bekah Doty and Lane Hartman!

Who I prefer to call "The Hartmans."

I can't wait for your skinny, skinny babies. 

Sorry I keep screaming with excitement every time I think about it...

You are two of my favorite, best ones.

Love,

BANANA!!!!!!!!!!!! WAAAAAAHHHH!

Things I like

1. Sunday evening lawn-sitting with twice-baked potatoes, beans, and my favorite, most strikingly beautiful sister duo.

Mika and Elyse

Lambert the knee spot making a full summer appearance.

2. Monday afternoon Chattanooga Choo Choo dancing on the table with a giant bowl of cookie dough. 

3. How Brookie knows every word to the Chattanooga Choo Choo

(not to mention Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z).

4. Lovely, lovely school books that come every day in the mail.

They smell like learning and life. Today Chateaubriand and Milton surprised me in the mailbox. What's up, guys?

Things I don't like:

1. Bunn ran away. Have you seen an adorable rabbit with floppy ears? Probably faint with dehydration?

2. They razed the rose bushes. Plucked out the pear trees. And when we got Mika to ask them in Spanish, they said they hadn't even seen a bunny in the process.

No roses and no Bunn.

Is this an omen? 

Is this a breath of the end  of summer love?

Love, Ken Burns, and the end is near,

Banana 

Sunsets in cars.

And we: spectators, always, everywhere,

facing all this, never the beyond.

It overfills us. We arrange it. It falls apart.

We arrange it again, and fall apart ourselves.

Who has turned us around like this, so that

whatever we do, we find ourselves in the attitude

of someone going away?

Just as that person

on the last hill, which shows him his whole valley

one last time, turns, stops, lingers--,

so we live, forever taking our leave.

-Rilke

from The Eighth Elegy

 

love, late morning poetry, and last weeks of summer,

Banana

p.s. I am now a working woman. Feel free to praise me.