Skip to main content
For those who still check this blog even when I go a week without posting anything of interest or relevance, I thank you. I'm intentionally ignoring people lately, and it's very hard. I feel rude. I prize the face in front of me more than the job that needs doing in the other room, and there are a lot of faces in my life. Today, I will return to them, even if only for a little while. Because today is Patchwork! After church, I'll be heading to Santa Ana with mom and sister to fritter away all that money I don't have (heaven help me). Perhaps there will be pictures to come? Perhaps...

Yesterday was my brother's birthday. I think it's time to stop calling him a boy and start calling him a man. He's tall. He's old. He's got a fancy car and a realish sort of job. Happy birthday, Nathaniel. I miss you.

Comments

  1. Hello, I'm Emily Clare.15 November, 2009 20:00

    Um, if he's old, what does that make US? We're oldER!
    Patchwork was great. Glad we went! I even had my camera but didn't take any pics. Oops!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Unknown16 November, 2009 09:00

    Yeah, I kinda forgot all about that once we got there. Smelled like incense for the rest of the day, though, and my ears were just a little bit ringing from this boy band that played right before I left. I don't think I like hipsters very much.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hello, I'm Emily Clare.16 November, 2009 18:35

    Oh, and you're welcome. I'm one of those mentioned in your first sentence, heehee.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

window in the sub

Dear Nathaniel, I am microwaving pie that Mom bought up in Oak Glen this week on her way home from the orthodontist. As I put it in the microwave, I was full of sadness that I was not in Oak Glen with her. Why did I not go? I was working. I want to see the trees turn. I want to wander slowly through autumnal gift shops. Under the water, you cannot sense the approach of the seasons. Even here it is difficult because, after all, it's California. But I can still sense it. After three seasons in Illinois and one in Scotland, it must be with me for good. Or at least for a while. Because I am all abuzz with eagerness for fall and winter, for turkeys and dried leaves and Santa. I should start cooking again this fall. Fall foods are my favorite. Baked squash dripping with melted butter and brown sugar, pumpkin soup... this year, if I have enough money, I will put together a holiday dinner for my friends. And we will drink Scandinavian mulled wine, which is the most wonderful thing I have e...
13 comments
Read more

At the close of nine years

I'm moving to Texas in less than two months. I've lived in Long Beach now for nine years. Already I have stacks of books covering my dining room table that I'll be reading for my PhD program in the fall. I've quietly begun the tedious work of sorting and cleaning everything in my little apartment. I'm scheduling all of my last days with friends, moving through my calendar in reverse order from when I expect to slip into my car and drive away. This is the longest I've lived in one place, so I've never really experienced a leaving quite like this before. I remember the day I left Wheaton, closing the bedroom door on my best friend, walking down to Chaeli's car so she could drive me to the airport. (The greatest grace of Texas is that she will be there. Some friends we never lose completely.) I remember leaving California for Scotland—walking away from my mother in the Palm Springs airport. We leave people who have changed us, and we leave places that ha...
1 comment
Read more

wanderlust

I am going home tomorrow morning. This is a strange idea. It will be a stranger reality. I am glad to go home, glad to step away from this world for just a moment, to better see it new and fresh but familiar when I return. More than this, I am glad for my sister's wedding. Glad for the vows, the strange appearance of extended family members, the green skirt. Glad for seeing my brother and my mother and everyone. Glad for the twos-on-twos. On the airplane, I will do my best to blitz through Samuel Richardson's Pamela. I will ignore the assigned readings of Foucault's "The Deployment of Sexuality," in part because I couldn't get it at the library and because I don't want to buy it, but most of all because I simply don't want to read it. I will read the essay by Adorno instead, and the chapter of Adorno and Horkheimer that I couldn't finish last night. I will listed to Rob D on my iPod. I will buy an overpriced sandwich in the airport. One of the airp...
5 comments
Read more