i just have to say

i just have to say that it takes a strong person to sit inside this very day and write a paper comparing research articles when you have a father that is willing and wanting to teach you the tricks to being a good repair man, a mother who is gathering eggs in her own beautiful back yard, dogs that are so ready to cuddle and play, a beautiful old piano that is so grand and is just waiting to be heard, and two very long legs that are wanting to stretch and tap all around this beautiful home.

and I just have to say that I am not a strong person today.

Banjo jamming for the win!

Ok, so I'm trying my hardest to get it all done, and for some reason, I think putting my poorly-made banjo video on my blog is more important than my Nursing Research class study objectives. (Doesn't that just sound boring...well it is.)
Oddly enough, when I try to look this video up on youtube, I can't find it. Other people can, strangers in fact, and I know this because one actually posted a very nice comment. Go figure.

So for all my fans (hi Mom, May, Hank, and maybe Lily (although she's busy at the hospital right now), here it is...

You Got the Devil in Your Eyes (when you play the banjo) Case and Point-

I've been playing Liz's banjo almost every day. I take it off the wall when I get tired of reading a textbook, which unfortunately happens almost instantaneously. I take turns with all the instruments, like they are each a child of mine, but I admit that the mandolin and guitar would be a bit jealous of old Banjo these days if they could be.

I'm writing a tune that I really like to play, which never fails to amuse and amaze me. I mean, how can I be a creator of these rhythms and notes that sound so good and feel so wonderful to play? I really don't understand it, and that's probably the magic in music. But anyway, there are no words to this tune yet, and I don't know if there will ever be. Maybe I can get someone else to write them for me. I feel like my lyrics are always kind of, well, bad. Nothing poetic about them, and if I try to make them that way, one can tell they are forced or just really sappy.

Ever since I've had my MacBook, I've used the imovie program with the built-in microphone and camera to record myself playing. I now have 74 clips, and a total of about six hours of just me and an instrument. (Actually, there might be a couple clips of me dancing, and if anyone ever stole my computer I would be more worried about them watching those clips than them stealing my identity and ruining my credit- I guess they're kind of embarrassing.) But I love my music clips so much. The majority of these clips are nothing special, but than sometimes I will go back and watch them and it will be a song that I really like, or some little tune that I fiddled around with for a couple of days back at the start of college. I'm kind of thinking that it would be fun to share them, for anyone that was at all interested. But like I said, I've made them to help me remember songs that I make up, or when I just need a distraction from something.

So, if I figure it out, I will put up a clip of the new banjo song I'm working on... we shall see.
I also want to start recording songs for Owen and Billy and Shayla's baby to listen to. That would make me so happy. Problem for me is I don't have a lot of extra time and since I ain't a professional musician, nor do I have a good way to record myself, I think it will take quite a long time. But I'm not giving up on the idea.
No no, never!

Chicken Update from the Child

My parents chickens are doing really well. They are growing up fast, and when Mama and Daddy look into their baby chick pen when they return from their trip to Cozumel, they're going to think we replaced them with real chickens. Don't get me wrong, they totally miss my parents. My siblings and I are doing are darnedest to keep them cleaned and watered and feed, but I know they miss my Mama's sweetness and heartfelt songs of praise.
When I go into their pen they run away from me. Not so with Mama. They swarm around her, knowing their mother hen is there to take care of them. I can just look at their little bead eyes and hear them thinking,
"Jesus lady, what's your problem? You throw hay at us. You don't place the watermelon down like Mom does, you throw it to us like we're some kind of animals. Where's our fresh fruit salad? Our veggie tray? What did you do with our real parents?"
Well, chickens, they're coming home soon, and I'm sorry, but I'm doing my best, I swear.

Everything else is going swell. I'm about to go to town to help Lily move today, since I am the only one legally allowed to drive Dad's big-kid cars. But I don't mind. I love being with my big sister. It's oddly comforting, even though it was only five years ago that we would get into real, physical fights over things like me wanting to read her Seventeen magazine. Oh how things change.

Jamaica! And Happy Birthday Mama!

I don't know exactly why it's taking me so long to write about my Jamaica trip. It's difficult to talk about something that was everything.

It was beautiful, tropical, mountainous, beachy, surprising, familiar, loving, scary, sad, grateful, giving, taking, spiritual, and as refreshing as the baths I took in the river each morning. I saw more dark, beautiful people than I've ever seen, more skinny dogs, higher blood pressure and diabetes, more skin fungi, more ancient blue-eyed men and women look me in the eyes with pure gratuity for just taking there blood pressure and asking them, "so why are you here today, what's bothering you Maa?"

They call the women all "Maa", and I caught on to it quickly. Calling them Maa made me feel like we were all related. I felt so close to the older Jamaicans. Maybe it also had to do with when we first got to the infirmary we were told to talk to the people, to touch them, to hold there hands, which I did. At first I was kind of scared to be this close, I didn't know if these people would shy away from my strange touch , but then when I would walk by they would hold out their old, withered hands and smile when I asked how they were. That feeling became much more familiar and comfortable.

This was also the most upsetting part of the trip for me. The infirmary in Jamaica is where the old and the poor, the physically and mentally challenged folks are left by relatives to die. Some of the men and women were completely gone mentally, but then some of them were leading conversations with us about the war in Iraq and were completely aware of the world, probably more so than I will ever be. This part of the trip was intense, to say the least. I will never forget it, nor will I forget the smallest, sweetest, juiciest mango that I picked up off the ground at the infirmary- the best I have ever tasted.

I must continue with Jamaica later. Somehow it is now 1 in the morning and yet I have hardly begun. I'm going to have to get somebody (Mom, Hank?) to show me how to upload pictures because the way I know how really sucks and I just know there is an easier way to do it. So more to come.



Oh wait...
Today was my Mama's birthday, (even though all day long I was thinking that it was tomorrow), and I just have to say that I am so very grateful that she was born and made into the mama I know and love so freaking much. She really is the best. Hope you are having the time of your life in Cozumel, Mama! You deserve it all a million times over. (Oh, and for your birthday I cleaned house. I even washed the hallway walls free of its mildew. Of course by the time you are home again it will probably all have grown back and the floors will be dirty again and the rugs full of chicken poop, dirt, and dog hair. But just know it was clean at one point while you were away.)

From Chigger Bites to Scared of Life

I have two lovely chigger bites on my left ass cheek. They itch and it is inappropriate to scratch my behind in public. My MRI on my right knee shows that my knee is full of tears and three different kinds of cysts- Baker's, synoptic, and meniscus. I don't feel like looking all of these things up right now. I mean, I have lived with them for almost three years (or who knows, maybe longer) and I don't feel like it is a big deal. I just can't bend them all the way, and they hurt once in a while and I feel like I won't be able to have babies without extreme knee pain, and I get jealous of old people and young people alike who can squat and sit with their knees bent. OK, so maybe it is a big deal in my life, but it shouldn't be. Everyone I talk to has knee pain, it's just a way of life. Right? All I can do is wait and see. I've got an appointment with the Orthopedist two days after I get back from Jamaica, and hopefully it will all get better.

Speaking of Jamaica- I am leaving on Friday and it all feels so weird to me. I've never been out of the country and I know it's going to be good. But right now I am a bit anxious. I still haven't conquered taking blood pressure properly. Which ties into my entrance into the Nursing School. Today, one of the many things I did was go to Helen's Uniform shop to order the things FSU told me to buy. It was kind of fun. I felt like Harry Potter going to Diagon Ally to get all his Hogwarts' school supplies. There were three other girls from FSU getting fitted and asking the same questions I had in my head.

Do my shoes have to be bought from this store, can they be Reebok?... How many polo shirts do I really need to buy. If I have to wear them to class ever day I should at least buy two since I know I will get dark chocolate stains on it... Should I buy a new stethoscope that costs $118 compared to the $15 one that I bought... When will I get my freaking patches to put on my scrubs?

Actually, those were mostly my questions, but I couldn't help but wonder about what the future holds for me and those three other starry-eyed, scared shit-less, girls. Maybe the one with her mom and two younger sisters will become my best friend; we will study together and cry together, or maybe she will become my arch competitor. It is all very exciting and extremely scary for me.

I feel like I have a million and one things to say, nothing poetic or interesting really, but I figured it was time to write some words for the cyberspace world. I think I have been hiding from any sort of work or thinking. That is why my summer has been filled with reading Twilight, watching Heroes and True Blood, spending more money than ever necessary, and working a pretty straight forward job. It feels nice, other than the fact it makes me feel guilty to be using up my time not accomplishing anything. It's a break. I was tired of school and being alone, and now I am still tired of something, I just haven't figured it out yet.

And now I am tired of my emo thoughts. I think I will crank up the music and start packing now.

I'm adding pictures that I have recently taken with my new camera.

Just Some Words

It's been too long since I've taken the time to write on my blog. And now that I actually should be studying for every class, and finishing up lab reports, and revising my poetry, and writing a biography about Billy Collins, and working on my song that I'm writing for guitar class, I figure it is a perfect time to write. No? Well, "Too freaking bad!" I say to myself.

It's odd how my mind works, because when I have all these things that I must get done, I crave so badly to stop everything and be one with the earth, whatever that means. Like right now, all I really want to do is go home and watch the chicks grow and help Daddy build that beautiful home for those babies. But no, I am stuck inside the FSU library, sitting next to a middle-aged woman who is listening to loud eighties pop rock (Journey perhaps) through her ear buds. Once in a while she starts a short conversation with herself, unless she is actually on a hidden phone, which I must add, I am always tricked out by.

But I feel good at the moment (despite the poor music choices being made around me). I think I might go get some Pitaria and look over my notes for Anatomy. Thankfully we are learning about my favorite subject- the reproductive system! Although I must admit that I still have the hardest time completely understanding the freaking stages of meiosis and how all our chromosomes converge and split and do it all over again. Maybe I should have a sit down with my professor and chat about how babies are made. He is pretty cool. In our notes he compared the Punnett Square to the game Battleship. Can't beat that humor!

Hope everyone is doing good. And just know that Miss. Honeyluna is wishing she was with you, whatever you may be up to.