C'est seulement que j''etais si confortable et chaud

Hey kid, good morning-
You look like
An angel

I guess we can both be that way.
I guess I'll do nothing to stop you.
Taking it back now is going to be hard now.
Here I go- something unpredictable, indeed.

I will do all that I can, with whatever I have, wherever I am. And I'll let good enough be good enough.

Les etoiles qui brulaient si fort, qu'elles pleuraient

I'm not certain, I know how...

It's actually been a few splendid days, with more last minute sleeping in and relaxing coming up. I am a little ashamed to admit I did brave the mall on Boxing Day, Chinook mall nonetheless, giving into the consumerist materialism that runs rampant among these parts. I will own up to that much. I will also own up to the fact that I did it purely because I like to look pretty in new clothes. So there. I said it.
Also, to Emily Hyrcha, who may or may not read my blog:
Once upon a time, I complimented you on your beautiful buoyant curls and expressed a wish for my curls to be just as beautiful and buoyant. You took me aside and whispered to me (all the while furtively glancing from side to side) that the secret was, in fact, in the shampoo you used. Just today I used that very shampoo. The result? Beautiful buoyancy in my curls. I do thank you for this. You were on my mind today, as you were last night when I saw the penguin commercial. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! indeed.
I've had relaxy days, spent learning how to play Ode to Joy on the guitar. Indeed, I can now play the 'G' chord, 'G7', 'D7', and 'C'- try not to flood me with too many compliments, I'm working on my modesty. I've also been keeping up the running thing, which helps to arrest the many chinook-induced nosebleeds that I do not enjoy. Also, if I wake up early to go on my run, then I get to go to bed nice and early, which I am also not ashamed to admit I enjoy.
Tonight, Kaylie is going to bring over more animated movies for me to enjoy (I saw How To Train Your Dragon a few nights ago; needless to say, it was fabulous, after all, it was about Vikings) tonight, and, amidst banter about boys and sippage of tea (I imagine), we will watch 'Despicable Me', which I have also yet to see. I'm really behind on my watching of animated movies. Tomorrow, of course, will be fantastical also because a potluck lunch, in our dear Shannon's honor, is to be held here, within my humble abode, with hottub and many Christmas cookie leftovers to be enjoyed. And, of course, more boy banter and tea sippage. I find that this occurs regularly in my humble abode. And I am DEFINITELY ALSO completely unafraid to admit this.
Also, to be noted; if you ever want to wear pants ever again, I would suggest not purchasing lululemon's WunderUnder legging-majigs. They are the most comfortable thing in the history of comfortable things. And I am including purple snuggies in this count. (Well, maybe not purple snuggies. But definitely other colors of snuggies.)
Also, to be noted; Hannah and Lyndsay will be doing hot yoga on Thursday morning. Just a sidenote, to enunciate how awesome my life is.
Also, New Year's is going to be fantastic. (See above.)
Also, Eric Miller, has your sister had her baby yet? You are NOT keeping me informed.

Further accomplishments of winter break:
1. I learned how to steam milk. Now, I have unlimited access to foam. Enough said.
2. I want inside, so that I can see, what's going on, if I'm there, where I opened, in the spaces in between the scars, hello hello, are you listening up there?
3. HANNAH I KEEP FORGETTING TO TELL YOU BUT THAT BEAUTIFUL LOTION THAT YOU HAVE WAS STILL ON SALE SO I BOUGHT SOME OF THAT BITCH AND I LOVE IT SO.

Et pour la dernier journee de Noel...

I am proud to say that I can now become an unwashed, indie hippy kid who can play all of four chords on her beautiful new guitar... However, these are the only chords needed to play a bajillion pop hits ( I mean, indie obscure...nonhits); if you don't believe me, search "4 chord song" by Axis of Awesome (I think) on youtube. You will be pleased.

That buzzy feeling will not go away, no matter how many delicious Christmas suppers I fill my tummy with (two; but who's counting?) Olive, I need more of your help, I think. Maybe soon.

Astonishing...

She's right, you know. I have my grandmother's eyes, but my own will to hold on and stay sturdy on my single-captained ship. As long as there is promise of sea turtles to accompany me wherever I go, swimming fluidly along the bow. Guiding me home.

Un poste base entierement sur la beaute de cette image

See, now you're just trying.

...uhh, Happy Merry Christmas Eve.

Baby steps.

Le premier, Noel...

I love those moments when you just really, truly understand someone. When you just know, inexplicably, how to explain everything that they're trying in vain to inexplicably explicate through conveying explications. And so, as I sit here reading my good friend Rachel's blog, I find myself smiling a little and nodding, whilst I too, yawn and try to think of ways to spend my time until I can, forgivably, go to bed.

Also, it is Christmas eve tomorrow.

I spent a little bit of time right there, during the space, looking at my blogs from last year. It's strange, because it doesn't feel like that long ago, but on the other hand, there are these funny buzzy feelings in my tummy when I read parts of them. It's funny, because around this time last year I wrote a blog about me and Rachel Schneider and how we were feeling the same sort of feelings then, too; (resentment over Chemistry 20, but who gives a flying reindeer.) (I'm becoming more creative with my curses, I feel. It must be the Christmas spirit. Or Eric, finally having some impact on me. But no, probably the former.)

I spent a little bit of time right there, during that space, thinking about where I want to be next year, when I'm, re-reading this blog. I feel like I shouldn't share in this space. Possibly because it'll make more funny buzzy feelings in my stomach, completely unrelated to the coconut shortbread cookies I have just ate (...oh no, wait, that was like...3 hours ago. Hm.) But I don't want to jinx it.

I don't want to jinx it. 
But I'm doing weirder and weirder things as time goes on. 

Donc, ceci c'est le Noel

I guess it's just that I thought...well.
I think a lot of things.
Most of them are silly, some are ridiculous, and some feature my brain. That makes everything up. That makes me imagine things (which comes from the words 'image' and ...'ine'), things that are completely contrary to the way things are. Like upside down, backwards, and inside out, on the opposite side of the color spectrum, and smelling just not quite right. A little like...well, you know.
I like bright lights, hot chocolate, and the TV show that Hannah and I will be the stars of as soon as we find the right baby to steal. Preferably not budgers, or hay-throwers, or fat sluts.

I guess it's just that I thought...well.

1. Falling slowly, eyes that know me.

Un pas en arriere, un pas en avant

...and even if you feel like you're moving, you're still just pacing.

The sun is finally out today, on this fine December 22, at 11:19 in the morning. I will go out for my run soon- just waiting for that word I can't think of...something like inspiration, influence...you know, that one that will be the catalyst for an action...waiting for...
Yes, my brain is already losing its smarts from a healthy lack of school. Franchement, la, I'm okay with it. Breaks are needed. Breaks are good for thinking. Breaks are good for brains, for skin, for sleep, for...pituitary glands...
Maybe sort of.
I'm kind of in a bizarre mood right now, and can't really place why, exactly, or what I should be doing to maybe reglement this mood. Maybe when the en-dolphins get flowing, it will clear my nose, clear my throat, open my eyes, clean my face, open my brain to the rational, proper thinking required to make cookies all day. Or something?

1. Little actions, little notes, little prayers.
2. Gives me courage, to give you courage.
3. Connecting to the tightrope, where I'm hanging by a finger.
4.  Doin' what comes nat'rally.
5. Maybe not the best idea.
6. Where are my headphones?
7. Lost in my purple snuggie.
8. Lost where the other lost things are.
9. Always been like a hummingbird...

C'est ici que je sort du train

Exhausting- but better- days.
I feel tired, all the time; but not a worn-down tired anymore. I just feel contentedly tired, knowing that I can go to sleep without having to worry about this, or that, or both this and that, or something else completely, or all three. Knowing that I can get up and go about my business, with or without French toast, going for cold morning jogs that wake me up, collecting bottles door-to-door for causes I'm not even a part of (but I'm in it for the Starbucks), listening to lovely recitals played by lovely musicians who are all so friendly and wear purple ties. Preparing for spending time with friends in the minus 2 weather, instead of minus 14. Painting pictures of wildness, spending refreshing evenings of solitude with my head and soothing strokes of paint. But content, at the end of the day, going to bed with ice on my silly, silly knee and stories of Pad thai, acceptance, and warm hands in my deepest heart of hearts. (With visions of sugar plums...or rather, texts from Kaylie watching silly movies and offering me cookies, advice, and advice about cookies. Mmm, cookies.)

Kaylie: is a good snuggler.
Hannah: is a lovely duet partner.
Rachel: is a good bottle collector.


I hope you are all having a rotten time in Hawaii.


Secrets:

C'etait seulement que j'aimais tellement cette photo

Reasons I like my friends:

+ It's okay that we don't like each other's blood-filled endometriums.
+ They like getting socks for Christmas.
+ They let me know when my plans of attack are too...violent
+ They approve of my plans of attack
+ They sing songs with me and make me all sloppy and cry-y and emotional
+ They respect my bow, even if they don't like bows all that much themselves
+ They are not fat sluts (one-year anniversary of said account; do you remember?)
+ They don't get QUITE as thrilled as I do about my sparkly cookies, but they pretend to
+ They sing songs from Spamalot in ugly Camelot costumes
+ et cetera

Hannah: you buy him something confusing, funny...sticky...(maple syrup. I realise that sounded kind of dirty.)
Which is exactly what you have done.
And now you get to spend time with person.
And figure all these sticky situations out. (See what I did there?)

(I want to know what I look like, from someone else's eyes.)
HELLO, PAST LIFE:
Oh Juliet -when we made love you used to cry, 
used to swear like the stars above well you’d love me till the day that we died:


frozen eyelashes 
christmas books 

lullabies 
lucky pennies

Aurevoir, mon estomach

...Spent the last hour getting through applications for U of A and (trying to understand the complicated application process of) Concordia. The farther and farther I got, the clenchier and knottier and swishier my stomach became. I don't know if this is a good sign. Maybe it's just everything, plus this, plus that, plus them, plus the Queen of Sheba and the King of Kazoo.

Maybe it's just that, like all my fellow Aberhart-ians, I really don't know whether I am ready to do this or not. I thought it would be clearer and easier, now. Now that things have sort of a little bit changed. I guess I was wrong about that, too. 

I'm often wrong.

(But don't tell; I put on this persona of being always right. And I am. What? Always right? Of course.)

I want a wormhole for Christmas.

That, or a very, very comfortable blanket to sink into for the next three weeks or so.