Teacher Lady

Oops. I think I'm going to teach College.

Take a look at this electronic mail of destiny:

Does this mean the "G U" word (Grown Up)? I've been making a concentrated effort to "only buy grown up clothes" for the last few months, reigning in every impulse to purchase a galaxy cat dress or plush full-body onesie with ears, in the event of something like this coming up. I really have been trying.

 

But London is just so much FUN!

What do I do now?

Do you think my students will respect me?
 

I think I will require them to bow to me every time they enter and exit the classroom and to address me as "Professor the Dowager Countess Anna Teacher Lady".

Yes, I think that's it.

 

And I shall be feared.

SAVE THE DATE

12.21.12

The last day of the world?

Or the best wedding ever?

you pick.

Guess What?

 

good things.

1. good things still happen.

Brookie.

"With rushing winds and gloomy skies

The dark and stubborn Winter dies:

Far off, unseen, Spring faintly cries,

Bidding her earliest child arise;

March!"

Bayard Taylor, "March"

  

  

(We would like to go outside, please.)

2. Good things still happen.

Just when I'd consigned myself to be a shriveled up loser forever, the theatre gods magnanimously cast me in The Secret Garden.

And just when I'd decided to go to bed until graduation (or, more likely, much later) because my brain doesn't work and I'm tired and I've (for lack of a gentler term) screwed up my college education (and everything else), the research paper gods told me I won second place in a prestigious essay contest.

AND DESPITE THAT I still decided that I'm never going to be a writer and no one wants me to be a writer and my life is, for all intents and purposes, over. But then the publication gods said that a Women's Studies journal wants my Mormon feminist rant paper that I wove together with my soul.

I am humbled and so happy about these good things. 

Just a few days ago a dear friend told me that I was "about to turn a beautiful, beautiful corner." I so wanted to believe her. I should have.

And now it's time to turn back and tell everyone I love the same thing-- to help them find their corners. I have been way too sad lately to be anything but selfish, selfish, selfish. 

But there's time to change. Because good things still happen.

Love, light, and singing the most beautiful songs every night at rehearsal/ starting to write words again because I AM a writer, dagnabbit,

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 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!

Here it Comes...

A better version of me.

Happy Belated New Year, I guess.

The sun has been incessantly flirting with me. It's toying with my affections, giving me a beautifully bright false hope that perhaps this winter might just be a little less miserable than the last.

Well, maybe it will be.
I will be, anyhow.

And you know why? Because "The strongest and sweetest songs yet remain to be sung" [via Walt Whitman]

And I should at least be humming along.

...Don't you think?

Resolutions, renovations, and hesitant hopings,
Banana

P.S. I'm moving to Paris with Gracie in the Spring. Have you ever heard such a lovely sentence?