A Saucy Tale (well, sort of)

When I was in Florida, there was a time when I was scheduled to work for hours long enough that would require me to eat two meals in the break room.  Usually lunch and dinner.  Being the optimistic sort that I was, I decided that packing a lunch would be beneficial because there wouldn't be enough time to go to the cafeteria and I really didn't want to eat out of the vending machine for meals, that sounded like a spiral of sadness that would just never end.

So that meant peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Because I'm not really a fan of putting together cold cut sandwiches, far too much effort.

If I was going to pack multiple PB&J sandwiches, I would want some variety, right?  At least, that's what I figured.  I don't eat grape jelly.  It's weird.  And I'm not a fan.  Strawberry jelly all the way!  But that left the question of how could I possibly bring variety to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?  The answer was clear: raspberry jelly.

Fast forwarding to my departure from Florida, I had a nearly full jar of raspberry jelly.  Somehow it found its way into the hamper with my sweaters and my hats.  And that was how a jar of raspberry jelly traveled unrefrigerated from Florida to Illinois.  By car.

I'm sure it was a really thrilling ride for the jelly because I spent the majority of it either singing along with the radio or crying uncontrollably, and I know how sensitive jelly can be.  Its hearing, of course.  Pretty sure I missed a couple notes in my singing those days.  But being stuffed in with sweaters and hats and random plush animals, the raspberry jelly must have had a grand old ride home to Illinois.

And when we got home, the jelly was abandoned in that hamper for a good week before I remembered that it existed.  And that was how a jar of raspberry jelly sat in the front room of my parents' house, unrefrigerated, until I remembered that these things are supposed to be refrigerated.

So now there's a jar of raspberry jelly, nearly full, in the refrigerator at my parents' house.  I suspect that either my family members know that I forgot about it, or they don't eat raspberry jelly for the same reason I don't eat grape jelly.  Because they think it's gross.  So I can't help but pity the poor jelly that didn't do anything wrong, and is just sitting there in the refrigerator door, waiting to be put to some use.  I smeared some across a slice of soda bread the other day, and I haven't died yet, so I'm thinking the time of unrefrigeration didn't actually cause any damage to the jelly.  That or jelly is so full of preservatives and fake things, it doesn't really matter in the first place whether you keep it in the refrigerator or not.  OR that the house is so cold that it was close enough to a fridge in and of itself.

If this jelly is really one of the most dramatic things that I brought with me from Florida, maybe that's why I've been disinclined to twist open the cap and eat some.  Because what if I have flashes of memories of peanut butter and raspberry jelly sandwiches in the break room and get hit with a sadness of missing that time?  I hardly think that this is even remotely possible, but it distracts me from feeling writer intimidation which isn't even close to being related to what I was saying at the beginning of this sentence, but you know, sometimes the sentences need to be let off the leash to run away from you.

And let's not talk about how there's no strawberry jelly in the house.

"When the tide of misfortune moves over you, even jelly will break your teeth."

- Persian Proverb

House on the Rock

So I'm pretty sure that I never talked about when I went to House on the Rock with my friend at the beginning of last month.  For those who don't know, the House on the Rock is one of those human oddities that you really need to see to believe.  In a nutshell, it's a collection of just about everything.  And it's magical, which is probably why it appears in Neil Gaiman's American Gods, which may or may not have been the basis for its appeal to us.

My friend and I are on a mission to go on adventures to give us more material for our writing and also to get us out of the house because we tend to be the type of people who like to laze around the house for long periods of time, which...you might have noticed if you read my blog with any regularity.  Not the point.

Going back through my Poem-A-Day February, I found this poem that I wrote after we visited the House on the Rock.

February 3, 2013

Snakey road, covered in snow
leads to the upside down house,
everyone's play land.
Dolls and guns and
paper weights.
Stuffed owls and
pinned butterflies and
music boxes.
The air pumps through the hallways
like breath from a million lungs,
sending drums thumping heartbeat
and flutes whistling,
ribbons flying like sassy tongues.
Far saner than anticipated,
but the low ceilings
and dim lights remind us of twilight
evenings where maybe
we'd sit by the fire
and curl up on a rock.

Posted for Poetry Pantry #140!

"All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want.  But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them."

- Neil Gaiman, American Gods

Dance, dance...

Q:  What is the last song you danced to?

A:  To be quite honest, I'm not sure.

Q:  What, do you dance a lot?  I thought you couldn't dance.

A:  I can't dance.  I do, however, dance in the car.

Q:  While you're driving?

A:  While I'm driving.  It's pretty much the best thing ever.

Q:  This exchange isn't going to make a very compelling blog post...

A:  Yeah, I know, that's why I'm going to tell you about a particular time that I danced that was fun.

Q:  You probably scandalized the masses.

A:  Oh, I did.

Okay, so when I was on my way home from the Disney College Program, my chauffeur and I went to Universal Studios.  Specifically, Islands of Adventure for the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.  Naturally.  By the end of the day, I had a wicked headache because I hadn't worn a hat and I didn't drink enough water.  So it was my own fault.

On our way out, we were walking through the Streets of Universal because that's the only way to get to the parking lots.  Over the loud speakers and drifting over the entire area was Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe."  (Don't lie, you know you have a secret love of this song.)  Right there on the Streets of Universal, I belted out "Call Me Maybe" and dance-walked all the way over to the parking lots.  I'm pretty sure I made a little bit of a scene, but that made it about eight billion times better.  It was a lot of fun trying to get my friend to dance with me, and just...good times.  I remember it like it was only yesterday....

"Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music."

- George Carlin

White Christmas

Today we're nearing the end of November and the beginning of December.  Yesterday I walked around in jeans and a t-shirt, and this morning I seriously considered taking off my army jacket that makes me look super cool because I was warm.  But for the sake of coolness, I kept it on.  (I'm sure you were worried.)  That and I didn't want to have to carry it to the Dollar Tree.

It's weird that it's so sunny all the time, and I can safely assume that what it looks like through the window is reflected in the temperature.  For example, sun means warmth.  Comfortable warmth.

And the trees haven't gotten the memo that they're supposed to get naked by now.  I'm not kidding, all the trees are still completely dressed.  Although I'm not sure I really want to see a palm tree naked, I do think it would be funny to see all those big fan leaves yellowed and crumpled on the sidewalk.

This is when I start realizing that I'm not in the Midwest, but it's supposed to be fall turning into winter.

Right about now if I was back at home, I'm pretty sure I would be bundled up in a jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves.  I would be sharing pockets with the boy because his gloves don't have fingers and my pockets are warm.  I would probably wear a sweater to class and then remember that it's in the general classroom building which is usually hotter than Hades year round.  And when I forget that I have class in the science building because that's where they stick business classes, I'd just shiver through it.

It might be sunny back home, but if you step out of the house without a jacket, you'll just have to turn around and grab it because sunshine does not equal warmth in the autumn months back home.  Some of the more reckless folk would just venture out in a hoodie, but I've always been one of those people who's always cold, so...jacket and scarf it is.

All the trees would be naked and prancing about.  That's right, the trees prance about in the Midwest.  Yes, yes they do.

And any day now there would be snow.

I'm swiftly coming to terms with the fact that I can dream of the white Christmases I used to know as much as I want, but chances are it's not going to snow in Florida.  This is slightly depressing, but the prospect of finding a palm tree to decorate with Christmas lights is just about as exciting as the idea of putting Christmas lights on a cactus.  Not sure how it work...but it would be worth a shot.

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas.  Just like the ones I used to know."

- 'White Christmas'

A Letter to Florida Weather

Dear Florida Weather,

I know I've talked to to you a couple times...specifically to shake my fist at the heavens and say "CURSE YOU!" whenever it rains, but this letter isn't like that.

I'm writing today to say thank you.  Thank you for starting to cool off.  I'm really excited that the temperatures are dropping below 90 degrees.  I know that Florida is supposed to be warm, but I'm from Chicago and this humidity is a little crazy.  Granted, my hair is loving the humidity because it curls in all sorts of crazy ways, which can be nice, but the rest of me?  Not so much.  Especially all the bits of me that I have to cover in sunscreen because in addition to the humidity, it's been hot and sunny.  Except when it rains.  When it rains, that's the only time when it's windy, because rain is only fun when it can soak you through in a matter of minutes.  So your weather is a little strange, and the majority of it is taking a lot of work to get used to for this Chicagoan.

When September started, I found myself looking around for the changing colors in the leaves.  But you already know that palm trees don't lose their leaves, and they don't change colors either.  I'm already starting to miss the fall leaves in Illinois, but on the bright side, your weather is getting significantly easier to deal with. Now that the temperature has dropped below 90 degrees, it's better for cuddling up in a hoodie inside the apartment, and maybe there'll be a time when we can comfortably sit outside on our balcony and enjoy the outside.  That would be nice.  Maybe it'll even drop below 80, and then I could easily wear a sweater outside, that would be spectacular.  I miss sweaters.  And scarves.

Rumor has it that you get pretty chilly in the winter months.  If the rumors are true, I'll be really excited because that'll mean I may get to bundle up.  Or scoff at the Floridians who are bundling up.  Either way, I win, really.

So do me a favor, Florida Weather, cool off a little more than a little, and we'll have a great time for the rest of my stay here.

Love,
Brianna

Tourism

Yesterday, David and I played tourist in my hometown, Chicago.  And when I say "we," I really mean me, I was a tourist, because I walked around the streets taking pictures of everything.  First, because I now have a camera that's pretty and not ancient and second, because I don't go downtown very often and third, because there were things that we saw that normal tourists probably don't think to go see.  Though we were right by the Art Institute, we avoided going there because admission prices are outrageous and we're poor students.

We did get to see the Chicago Model City.

Picture provided by me!  This is a view from the North Side of the city.

I didn't know that this or that the Chicago Architecture Foundation existed, but they had a really cool gift shop deal where they had really neat toys and books and bags and interesting things--but the model.  I tried to find where my house is, but they didn't go that far north or west.  Because apparently Chicago's too big for that.  Silly.  Anyway, I did find the Kennedy expressway which is what I would take to get to downtown while driving, and so I ended up taking a picture as if I was coming off the highway.  There was also information about how the lighting changes every so often to simulate the path of the sun on June 21st, the longest day of the year.  I'm a little unclear as to why they chose that particular day, but I suppose it might have something to do with the amount of sunlight...and that the sun's out for the longest on that day?  I guess that makes sense.

We also saw the Chicago Cultural Center which had mosaics EVERYWHERE.

This is the ceiling at the Chicago Cultural Center.  Just look at that zodiac!

It was really beautiful in there.  There were quotes on the walls in the mosaics and the names of authors and scientists, and then there were writings in different languages like Arabic and ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and Chinese, it was really pretty.  There were other sections of the Chicago Cultural Center, one which had an exhibit called "Morbid Curiosity" which I regret going to because it was super creepy.  Like really creepy.  The "Write Now" exhibit was a lot more of my taste because it was all word-based art.  Really cool.  (How many times have I used "really" in this paragraph?  Who's counting?)  But I liked just wandering around!

Throughout our wanderings I kept thinking that it was really cool that we were just wandering.  We didn't have anywhere in particular to go because all we had to do was kill time in between events.  I like the idea of just wandering around the city because I feel like that's how the hole-in-the-wall places get found.  That's how you can find little historic places and never even realize it until you're standing right in them.  Chicago's got a lot going for it, and I never really thought about it because I just grew up here.  I always think about other cities as having more history than Chicago, but this city has a lot more history than I ever would have thought.

"Eventually, I think Chicago will be the most beautiful great city left in the world."

- Frank Lloyd Wright

What do you want?

I honestly don't know.

I have no idea what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want to do with my life.

So if I had to pick?  If I absolutely had to pick something because the rest of my life depended on it?  Would I be able to answer?  Would I be able to come up with something?  Let's see.

I want to be happy.  This has to be the broadest thing that I could ever think of, but there it is.  My ultimate goal in life is to find happiness and retain it.  It'd also be really nice if the people around me could also be happy.  I'm concerned about the people around me for all the obvious reasons in addition to the fact that I love them a lot.

I want to be able to have fun and not have to hide it.  I'm convinced that people get to a certain age and then they're not allowed to admit that they're having fun.  I like to think that they're not allowed to admit it because the alternative is that they're just not having fun at all, which is way too depressing to think about.  If anyone can tell me what age you have to be to be ashamed of admitting when you're having fun, I would really like to know because I'm concerned that I'm reaching that age, and in order to be taken seriously in "the real world," I might just have to renounce my ability to show when I'm having a good time.

I want adventures but I want safety.  Sometimes I'm daring, but more often than not, I play it safe.  I don't take risks.  I don't walk the edge.  I walk squarely in the middle and I get out of people's way when they come running towards me.  The adventures I have are under strictly controlled circumstances because I don't do spontaneity.  But at the same time, I want that.  So I'm conflicted there.  I want to explore, but I want to have the luxury of keeping a map in my pocket so I can consult it if I get lost.  I want to learn new things about where I'm at, but I want to have some place to call home so I can go back when I'm lonely.

I want to read.  For fun.  All the time.  I want to read everything I can get my hands on, even the dry and boring books because then I'll have something to complain about.  I want to read poetry out loud on street corners and draw the stares of tourists but it wouldn't matter.  Mostly because I would be having fun.  (See above.)

I want to write awful fragments of stories and random lines of poetry that never make sense together.  I want to write them all down, shuffle them up and hide them away in my writing box.  I want to keep them secret.  (Though I realize writing about them here kind of negates that secret bit.  Oh well.)

I want to fall in love.  I want to be able to open up to someone and trust them not to run away, but if they do, I want a broken heart.  I would want to feel the loss.

I want to feel.  I want to help people.  I want to do something worthwhile.  I want to make an impression.  I want to make my family proud.  I want to get so mad that I yell in public places.  I want to make a scene.  I want to walk until I'm completely exhausted.  I want to re-read my favorite books eight billion times.  I want to read Shakespeare aloud.  Somewhere.  I want to go everywhere and nowhere.

I want to live.

"With the past, I have nothing to do; nor with the future.  I live now."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Travelling

Q:  In what ways have you traveled?

A:  I feel like this question might be a little mundane, so we'll see where it takes me, and if it gets iffy, we're getting a second question.  Cool?  Cool.  Great.

Car.  Of course I've traveled by car.  Being American, and living in a city, it's a little difficult to avoid traveling by car.  Especially since a lot of the most important places (grocery stores...) we go are a car ride away as opposed to being within walking distance.  I mean, Dominick's is within walking distance of my house, but we prefer going to Jewel, don't ask me why, I have no idea.  The farthest we've driven as a family was Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania when I was in 8th grade.  It was pretty intense.  I remember driving through Ohio and thinking that though it was fairly boring, it was quite pretty!
Police car.  I was not arrested.  You figure that one out.

Airplane.  I've been to California (twice), Arizona (twice), and England/Scotland via plane.  And listing all of those out I've discovered just how much time I've spent on airplanes, which isn't as much time as I originally thought.  Strange.

Train.  I've traveled by multiple types of trains.  I've of course been on the subway/"L" in Chicago (because SURPRISE! that's where I'm from).  My mom, my brother and I used to take the train downtown to the museums when I was littler.
I've been on the Metra to get to downtown Chicago, because the blue line doesn't go to Union Station.  And that's just irritating.  The Metra is nice, it's double-deckered, and I always have to sit on the bottom level because all the business people sit on the top level and doze off.  Jealous.  They sell tickets on the train, and they're old-fashioned looking and you have to clip them to the seatback in front of you.  Then of course the conductors wander around the train in old-fashioned uniforms, which might be a little strange considering the streamlined metal exterior, but hey.
I've also been on the Amtrak, which is the nicest way to get from school to Chicago.  When I get a window seat, it's pretty much awesome.  When no one sits next to me, it's even better.  Unfortunately, that doesn't happen often enough for me to hope for it.

Bus.  City buses, suburban buses, double decker buses (in London and Scotland), and long distance buses, I've been on them all.  It's really thrilling, I know.

Boat.  I've been on small boats like a little one motor dodad, and then I've also been on a sailboat on Lake Michigan, which was spectacular.  It was a beautiful day, it was Talk Like a Pirate Day, and I got to help steer.  What could be better than that?

Horse.  I feel like this shouldn't count, because we weren't really traveling, but I still rode a horse, so...we're going to count it for now.  It was at a dude ranch.  Two, actually.  I've ridden a horse...three times.

Person.  I've hiked.  I'm a Girl Scout, there's little chance that I could get out of that one.
Piggy back rides.  There's nothing more to say about that.

"I travel not to go anywhere, but travel to go.  I travel for travel's sake.  The great affair is to move."

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Transition

Transition and I are not friends.
Back in elementary school, I used to cry before going into the new school year because I would be in a different grade with a different teacher, and some different friends. I'm pretty sure I did the same thing when I went from elementary school to middle school, a transition that only I and a couple of my friends from elementary school were doing because we would otherwise have gone through 8th grade at our former school. If that makes any sense.
And it would follow that I did the same thing or similar when I went from 8th grade to high school. Though I don't remember.

I don't remember crying before going off to college. I remember being worried, and I remember fretting over every tiny detail of my packing well in advance. That was probably the most prepared I was before leaving for a year of college. I cried once I got there, but that was homesickness, and it only came at night. Or when I was alone.
I haven't cried yet this year, but I have begun to experience a certain lack of motivation. This is my third time going off to college, and the first year I'm starting off as an RA instead of a Staff Alternate. So of course there are differences. But Transition and I are not friends, so I've hit a wall in my packing and I don't really feel like reading the summer reading book that I'm supposed to so I can talk to my freshmen about it.
I want to go, but I don't want to prepare for it. I would rather take off with whatever I had with me at the time and send for the rest of my things.
But maybe that's my lack of motivation talking.

Prompted

Thank you, to prompt websites that make my life easier.

May was a college student. That is to say that she spent the majority of her time during the week in the library, and her Fridays and Saturdays as far away from the library as she could possibly get. And being the dutiful college student she was, she called her parents once every two weeks to assure them that yes, she was doing fine in classes, and no, she wasn't letting her boyfriend push her around. Mostly because she didn't have a boyfriend. But that wasn't the point.

This particular afternoon found May, the college student, on a train, on her way home. And for May, home meant a great number of things, most importantly, home meant being within the same city limits as her former high school boyfriend. And he was one of several reasons she didn't have a boyfriend at school. The other reasons being the names of innumerable STDs that she was fairly certain the fraternity boys at her school collected and a certain overprotective father who didn't like bikers, artistic types or political science majors.

But I digress. At that very moment, May sat in her very own seat on the Amtrak home, with her laptop open on the fold out tray in front of her. The light from the screen was dimmed since she had her power cord in her bag and she didn't feel like fiddling around with the dimmer. Besides, she didn't need to see perfectly in order to play Spider Solitaire. It was rather inconvenient that the train didn't have Wifi, but hey, she had Moulin Rouge and a set of headphones in her bag if she felt the need to entertain herself with something other than pixelated images of shuffling cards.

May shifted in her seat, fighting to get comfortable in the chair to which she would be confined for over three hours. After fidgeting for a good bit, she discovered that she had been sitting on a ball of crumpled paper. Furrowing her brow, May picked up the paper ball and opened it, smoothing it out on the corner of the tray table that wasn't taken up by her laptop. When she uncrumpled it...