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Things We Put Ourselves Through, Due To Fear of Endings/Changes/Loss  
11:32pm 08/09/2010
Miranda, or so they tell me.
I still read the journal of a girl who strongly dislikes me. She may very well hate me. It shall never matter that she was already out of the picture when I met and fell in love with the boy she couldn't be with.

They were well-matched in many ways, from what I can tell. It seems clear to me that she is, in fact, more intelligent than me. She has the analytical mind that I'll never have, which I'll always envy. Unfortunately, from my viewpoint, they were ill-matched in a variety of crucial ways. They had distinctly different needs when it came to relationships. This, I can tell, wounded her. Cruelly. They were fundamentally unlike.

The idea I get, when reading the posts she wrote around the time of their separation, is that she took this difference of personality and built a prejudice out of it. Not a prejudice specifically involving me; I'm not being that self-involved. I mean, a clear and strong prejudice towards the sort of relationships that are important to the boy she loved. This manifests among her writings in the form of haughty and superior comments about her current monogamous lifestyle and how it is better than any other style of love. I get the idea from her words that people who engage in any other lifestyle are, obviously, bad people. Also, just plain wrong and unhealthy.

This bothers me, yet I continue reading her words. She's quite brilliant as a diarist. I'm quite jealous. Also, despite all of this, I would quite like to know her.
mood: blahblah
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03:39pm 10/08/2010
Miranda, or so they tell me.
Due to some Financial Aid errors, my Sam is having quite a few problems monetarily. We've basically got tuition covered (enough for two classes, then they'll reimburse us later), but there are still textbooks and supplies to be bought.

The problem? No money to pay for these things.

I've come up with a hopeful solution. If people are willing to donate money to us for school stuff, I will make each person something special (a SURPRISE) according to the amount of money they've donated. This could be baked goods, sewn clothing/toys/oddities, hair accessories, a four-course meal, handmade paper, or really ANYTHING.

In order to facilitate this, I've made a PayPal donation account:

Anything will help us out immensely and you get a SURPRISE. *fingers crossed*
mood: hopefulhopeful
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(no subject)  
08:05pm 25/03/2010
Miranda, or so they tell me.
Three Songs of Shattering


The first rose on my rose-tree
Budded, bloomed, and shattered,
During sad days when to me
Nothing mattered.

Grief of grief has drained me clean;
Still it seems a pity
No one saw,—it must have been
Very pretty.


Let the little birds sing;
Let the little lambs play;
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring;—
But not in the old way!

I recall a place
Where a plum-tree grew;
There you lifted up your face,
And blossoms covered you.

If the little birds sing,
And the little lambs play,
Spring is here; and so 'tis spring—
But not in the old way!


All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree!
Ere spring was going—ah, spring is gone!
And there comes no summer to the like of you and me,—
Blossom time is early, but no fruit sets on.

All the dog-wood blossoms are underneath the tree,
Browned at the edges, turned in a day;
And I would with all my heart they trimmed a mound for me,
And weeds were tall on all the paths that led that way!

Edna St. Vincent Millay
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(no subject)  
08:02pm 25/03/2010
Miranda, or so they tell me.

She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.

She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.

She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay
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(no subject)  
07:58pm 25/03/2010
Miranda, or so they tell me.
Open House

My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.

My truths are all foreknown,
This anguish self-revealed.
I'm naked to the bone.
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear.
I keep the spirit spare.

The anger will endure.
The deed will speak the truth.
In language strict and pure.
I stop the lying mouth:
Rage warps my clearest cry
To witless agony.

- Theodore Roethke
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A Party, I Will Be Having One (a facebook crosspost)  
12:18am 15/12/2009
Miranda, or so they tell me.
You know that melancholy feeling that creeps over your gift-addled and Christmas-cholesterol-saturated mind every year, at about the same time as your New Year's Eve hangover is beginning to fade? The realization sweeps over you that there won't be any more gifts coming your way, no more delightful surprises or amusingly decorated sugar cookies. The roads will be lined with the corpses of once-proud evergreen trees, no longer festooned with sparkling baubles or glittering lights.

It's depressing as hell, isn't it?

But wait! I've come up with the cure! It's my newest brilliant idea! The post-holiday Holiday party (patent pending)! No more post-Yule doldrums dragging you through January and into the dread beast February. No more crying jags accompanied by The Smiths and a sense of deep loss! Okay, maybe I can't promise that last one, actually...

Moving along...

Come to my party! It will be a White Elephant/Potluck party. I'd like it if each person could bring one REAL gift to contribute to the game and one RIDICULOUS gag gift to contribute, as well. Then everyone can get something nice, but still get the hilarity of giving someone anal beads or a singing trout out of their system. I also would like it if people would bring along their favorite side dish. The turkey and a small ham will be provided by the ever-thoughtful and lovely moi.

But wait, there's more! Not only will this be a belated holiday party, this will also be the housewarming party for me and Sam!

So, come warm our damned house, yo!

The Info: January 9th (it's a Saturday!) @ 1733 Boylston Avenue, Apt. 8

If you'd like more information, feel free to ask!!!
mood: bouncybouncy
music: i am jen - Broken In All The Right Places
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Chapter Zero: In Which Our Heroine Discovers Depths Hitherto Unknown  
05:35am 17/11/2009
Miranda, or so they tell me.
I just thought the world ought to know how happy I am right this very moment.

(Even though I am coming down with bronchitis. Even though I haven't found a new apartment yet. Even though I don't know how money is going to be in the next couple months. Even though I don't know if I have the emotional strength to see my family for Thanksgiving. Even though I haven't even started packing to move in three weeks.)

I am happy. Extraordinarily happy, even.

I am living a life filled with an incredible amount of love right now and it has kind of blindsided me. Seattle has finally begun to feel like home to me, which I somewhat believed would never happen. I mean, Bellingham has been my heart for a long time. Even when I felt like the city had turned like a snake in my hand, or that the people in it had forgotten me, I still loved it there. Really, I still do love it. But there are things I would be completely unwilling to leave behind here, now.

I am moving to Capitol Hill soon, to be nearer the center of the city. Despite my lack of organization about moving, I hope that it will be a nice change. I hate my current apartment, which is cramped and has NO CLOSETS. Also, there are horrifyingly large spiders. I want to live in an interesting turn-of-the-century brick building with the possibility of being able to paint the walls. Also, I want a fabulously oversized bathtub.

It took a million years or so, but I finally found a group of friends that feel like family. I've felt indescribably alone for the last six months or so. Yes, I know that I have a live-in boyfriend and I had friends down here already, but those friends' schedules don't always mesh so well with my own. It's hard to feel included when you only see people every couple of weeks or months. Not driving just adds to the difficulty.

Honestly, I haven't even been spending time with these (awesome, brilliant) people too terribly long, but sometimes everything just clicks at the right moment in the right time, you know?

I think I've finally lost that edge of pure terror that moving to Seattle placed within me. It seemed like the only way to make my life okay again, but damned if it wasn't the most difficult move I've ever made.

I came to Seattle with one wonderful boy in my life, thinking that I was going to try my damnedest to make something good work in my life for once. Thus far, it has worked out. Despite all of my Crazy getting all over everything, somehow we're still managing to be lovely together. We help each other learn, despite our frustrations with the world.

I found another amazing boy. Funny enough, I think heartbreak led us to one another. He makes me feel like a piece of myself had been walking around without me for a long, long time and I just didn't know why it was that I felt so incomplete. Until now, that is.

It's nice to have proven something to myself that I always believed to be true. I can have love with more than one extraordinary person without guilt or undue pain.

It makes me look forward to what the future holds.
mood: lovedloved
music: MGMT - Kids
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03:46am 10/11/2009
Miranda, or so they tell me.
Completely without context: Conversations about why Ikea reminds me of abortion, FTW.
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03:37am 10/11/2009
Miranda, or so they tell me.
So, I deeply believe that this comic just gets hotter and hotter with every page:


Just sayin'.
mood: bouncybouncy
music: i am jen - Broken In All The Right Places
tags: comics, sexxx
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Something In Me Understands  
04:27am 06/11/2009
Miranda, or so they tell me.
Today has been an intensely manic-depressive day and I'd be hard-pressed to explain exactly why.

Suffice to say that I'm in an overall happy headspace right now. My weekend plans seem to be falling (almost) effortlessly into place. My night was long and terrible sometimes, while at work, but gleefully ridiculous at other times. A number of bus-riding folk probably believe me to be insane, due to my giggling fits earlier today. Work is, as ever, a bit of a struggle. The evening was damned fine. Damned fine indeed. I had my weeping moment, when I couldn't stop the memories of (home?) Bellingham and Rumors and '80s Night from flooding in. But I handled it well, had a few drinks to quiet the ghosts, danced until it hurt, and flirted because I could. Someone even asked me to go home with them. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Perhaps I'll speak more of this later. I probably won't. It was a good day/night. Really, it was. I need to have more of those.

More good days to come, please?
mood: exhaustedexhausted
music: New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle
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