So you tell yourself that's enough for now

(I hate when you spend 20 minutes changing fonts and colors to make your blog lovely, and when you post it everything reverts to type).

I have a word document eating up my harddrive, and it contains yet another blog enumerating the ways in which I've failed to reach my potential, and listing possible motivators for making my next 6 months more effective than my last (6 months ago, I wrote the below blog post. Not much has changed). But once it was out of my headspace, I had little inclination to post it. And then I got my dictionary.com Word of the Day, and thought of this blog I'm typing, which I've been wanting to write/putting off forever, and I finally had the motivation to get started. This blog is completely off-the-cuff and NOT in a word document, because if it were on my harddrive it would never get posted.

So. Here's the part of the blog where I pull a classic (read: obnoxious) public speaking technique and define a word.

eudemonia \yoo-di-MOH-nee-uh\, noun:

1. Happiness; well-being.
2. Aristotelianism. Happiness as the result of an active life governed by reason.

This is the first word in ages that's resonated with me, both linguistically (come on: the rise and fall in cadence, the simply flowing assonance--it's undeniably striking) and emotionally (the word happiness has been on my mind for a while, as may become apparent). What's funny is that even though Dictionary[dot]com took the trouble of lovingly hand picking it for my inbox (that's totally what they do, right?), Merriam-Webster and my handy-dandy macbook dictionary don't even recognize it as a word.

Still, it's fitting with the music I've had on a loop all week, most especially with the song "Happiness" by The Fray (I've also been listening to Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know" if anyone's curious). "Happiness" is a song I've adored for years, but it's taken special significance on my iPod this year. Unlike what I expected upon first hearing the title, it's actually quite a bittersweet song. Isaac (Slade, the band's lead singer/songwriter) explores the notion that we often hold ourselves back from happiness, because happiness is hard. Happiness is more often missing people than it is being with them. The things we want can be our own worst enemies. Happiness is work, and happiness is rewarding. The lyrics resonate with me because I tend to live in my own head, and I have trouble putting myself out there. I often regret saying 'no' to opportunities, but fear of success and fear of failure hold me back. But usually the things that make a lasting impression are the things I have to talk myself into. Sometimes, you need to squeeze your eyes closed and jump off a dock with both feet. You never know when the Blob is waiting for you at the bottom. (Awkward, forced childhood reference metaphor: check).

But back on topic:

During our weekly Thacker D vid chat last week, MC relayed some advice a friend had given her: "Live [where you are] like you're never going to leave." It was advice I needed, too, and I'm so glad she shared it with us. The story behind "Happiness" is similarly motivating. Isaac wrote the song for his grandfather, a widower who lives in a nursing home. As someone who often feels like she's stopped living at age 23, I can only imagine how difficult it would be to stay open to life's possibilites at 87. But ten years after losing his wife, the Fray frontrunner's patriarch met a gal and fell in love. "They went to the [nursing home] cafeteria and got soup, and about 3 months ago they got married."

Wow. If that's not the wake-up call I needed, I don't know what is.

Aside from containing a message that is essentially always relevant to my life, Isaac is just a stunning lyricist. The poet in me thrills and trills, weeps (metaphorically) and sleeps (literally; I can't tell you how many times this song has lulled me to sleep) to these words. "Happiness: damn near destroys you, is more like knocking, throws a shower of sparks, was never mine to hold, has a violent roar."

Here's what happiness looks like to me:

Happiness is Katelyn getting married;

Dottie, too (though she has to wait awhile).

And love is like a photo booth at a wedding,

glowing smiles as Liz restarts her life.

Happiness is photos stuck in pages,

memories scrawled in ink along the Book.

I miss our days sitting up in Thacker,

but Skype date nights feel almost quite as good.

I love the days my mom drives down from up-home;

better still when she brings a packed car.

I have friends here in Carolina,

but loves from home are always twice as good.

Happiness feels so elusive;

there are days I feel dull and alone.

Contentment springs from coffee sunshine mornings;

poetry makes me feel alive.

My heart stretches from Waco to Missouri--

a big pit stop in NASCAR Tennessee.

Movies, wine, KK-esque adventures:

life is love, and love is all of you.

My yearly blog entry

So I'm sitting in the lovely state of North Carolina realizing that my life is a little ridiculous right now. And not in a good way. More in a I'm feeling a little bit like Alexis Bledel in Post Grad way. Which sucks because I hated that movie.

Only I don't even have the cute boy/friend, or the skeevy boyfriend, or the influx of failed job interviews. Because I haven't even been offered a job interview yet.

I do, however, have a great brother. And church once a week. So, you know, there's that.

Okay, yes. It sounds like I'm complaining. Which I guess I sort of am. But really, I'm just wondering how I can spend all yesterday researching appropriate positions at publishing houses, wake up early (well, before noon) to start penning my cover letters, and end up spending two hours researching MA programs in Mythology/Folklore. In California.

The question of the hour seems to be: do I apply for a job at B&N and start writing essays, or reach for the stars and hope a publishing house calls me back? Both options are equally unappealing at the moment, but seem wonderful in the realm of 6 months from now.

I feel especially adrift after reading Kate's wonderful blog about the joys of J-school at Mizzou (miss you, darling) and MC's bi-monthly rants on how difficult and fulfilling and hot masters programs are. In Texas. Guys, I really miss you. And all my other lovely ladies.

On a positive note, I'm on my 2nd day of Zumba dvds. Zero professional life=the inclination to do something positive with your out of shape keister. Dottie, I never fail to think of you and the Julianne whenever I wake up early to work out. Work, school, and a boyfriend, and you still made a date with her nearly every day. Thanks for being my internal motivation.

Now, let's see how many months it takes for someone to realize I finally blogged. Eventually I hope to work my posts up to once every equinox. The one in March should be full of happy springtime thoughts. You'll just have to deal with the dying-leaves drama for now.

Dear Everything Bad About the 90's

Stop invading the fashion industry.

Dear young women who profess fashion awareness,

I know this style is popular right now, but you look like a wrinkled, puffy trash bag. This isn't Derelicte. Please burn all offending items.

Dear Banana Republic,

I expected better of you.

Dear offendeding parties,

See express.com for examples of what 90's inspired winter-wear should look like. Because the website won't let me post its .gifs

Why Thank You, Irony

I'm pretty sure someone had fun coming up with these words:

sesquipedalianism \ses-kwi-PEED-l-iz-uhm\, adjective:

1. Given to using long words.
2. (Of a word) containing many syllables.

hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, noun:

Fear of long words.

Now that's just mean.

Cover This!

Yes, I never blog. Sorry, guys.

In other news, this year I've discovered how much I adore song covers. I used to hate them with a passion, but they're basically the most fun thing ever. I don't know what I was thinking. Exibit A:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gW6yQZyx5w&

Silly embed won't work. You'll have to clicky

And this, which you'll have to click cause they've disabled imbedding:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRmYfVCH2UA

Enjoy the fruits of my procrastination.

For My Beautiful Blonde Invalid

Since my roommate went away

I don't know how to face the day

But I know that she's in pain

So I'll try not to complain.

Last night I slept in Marie’s room

She helps to ward off the gloom

But it will creep back in soon

In Katelyn’s absence I find no boon.

Her surgery went really swell

Now her body won’t rebel

And even though she’s now unwell

Soon she will leap like a gazelle.

I hope that she’s not too hurt

To watch some Glee and laugh at Kurt

Or find a cute resident and get her flirt

On, even if she doesn’t have a skirt (On).

For now she can’t do the Hoedown Throwdown

But please, dear Katelyn, don’t frown

For soon enough you’ll dance around

Even if Asbury makes you skip town.

And now I’ll end this silly rhyme

Because I think it’s a lyrical crime

But remember, Katelyn, you’re really divine

And as for roomies—you’re all mine!

Inclement Weather Advisory

Today I missed class due to inclement weather. I shouldn't have. Fail all around.

The 'bury is trying out this newfangled text messaging system. It worked--I think. It could be that some random person is just texting weather advisory messages. But either way, when my phone beeped at 8:11 and I saw the words "one hour delay," I believed them.

Bad decision, Taylor.

When I got up at 9:15 (around when I generally leave for class) my dear Lola told me I'd been lied to. I checked the email, and she was right. "For non-essential personnel. Morning classes will run as normally scheduled."

Good one, Asbury.

So I'm rather annoyed. I like Dr. Strait's class. In fact, it's my favorite class. I want to be there soaking up highfalutin' ideas and pondering Shakespeare. Instead, I'm here blogging. Boo.

Of course, it was only a few minutes ago that I realized an hour delay wouldn't affect me at all since I don't actually have an 8am.

Why did they send the delay warning almost fifteen minutes after non-essential personnel would have left for work? And why send it to essential personnel (students are definitely an essential to a college running)? And why so vague?

Overall, fail for everyone. Myself included. Off to class thirty minutes late and looking like it.

Edit: The sky is crying death and misery. No fun. But Dr. Strait was cool, so I guess it all works out.