29 March 2012

Blog Stalking and Unfinished Thoughts

Tonight, after a sudden emotional decision to stop designing (because sometimes it's just too much) I started perusing my Melis's archives. The were full of posts I remembered, and some I didn't. They made me homesick. Not for Provo (I never miss Provo). For that third bedroom in the apartment with a map on the wall, and a bed with green sheets, and a snitch keychain. So even though it has nothing to do with the homesickness, I'm stealing a blogging habit of hers. If I could steal so many of her habits I'd be set for life.

Old Drafts

If tired of trees I seek again mankind,
Well I know where to hie me -- in the dawn,
To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn.
There amid lolling juniper reclined,
Myself unseen, I see in white defined
Far off the homes of men, and farther still,
The graves of men on an opposing hill,
Living or dead, whichever are to mind.
And if by noon I have too much of these,
I have but to turn on my arm, and lo,
The sun-burned hillside sets my face aglow,
My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze,
I smell the earth, I smell the bruised plant,
I look into the crater of the ant.
--Robert Frost


I have many friends and acquaintances who are touchy people. They touch your arm when you say something funny, they give you a hug when you leave the room, they nuzzle their head against your shoulder in greeting. I also know people who are so far from touchy that even when you greet them after four months of separation their hugs are stiff and have too much space in between your bodies. (B22 girls, you know who this is.)

Physical touch is a form of communication. I have a friend who was once convinced that if you shook the hand of the person on whom you were crushing you could immediately tell if anything could happen. (Did I get that right? And what happened the first time you shook hands with Paul?)


Loving March Reason #2: I heard Billy Collins read on Friday night and enjoyed his thoughts on titles, among other things


This Week's Designing Brought to You by

Mumford and Sons. Calv was whistling them on Tuesday night and they've accompanied my work ever since. Not a bad choice, though.


  1. I don't remember shaking hands with Paul for the first time . . . he was more of a high-fiver (boo). and our first hug was awful. Probably because I surprised him with it. But since it did work out so nice, I suspect the handshake was marvelous.

  2. THOMAS!!!! Ahahahahaha