Interesting discussion in class today. . ..

We had an interesting discussion in my humanities class today. We were reading the poem Song of the Soul in Union With God by San Juan de la Cruz. This poem is written about God, yet the way he describes the feelings of being united...one with God...is...in an erotic way. The poem is very much about love and if you did not know it was about God, you would think it was a poem written about a lover.
"Oh cautery so smooth! Oh so desired pain! Oh gentle hand! Oh touch most delicate, which eternal life endueth and doth all debts unchain! ....How amorous and mild the thoughts you give my breast, where secretly in solitude you dwell: by your sweet breath beguil'd, in grace and glory best, how delicate you do love compel!"
The way it speaks of a cautery so smooth. A burning wound...that is smooth. . .In other translations it says oh tender cautery. The tender burning....the opposition there. The pleasure and pain mixed...
From this poem, we went on to look at the statue, Ecstasy of St Theresa by Bernini:

We talked about how this sculpture is a representation of one of St Theresa's spiritual visions--when she was in union with God. The statue shows her with her head thrown back, and the angel, lifting her robes....very erotic elements used to describe this very spiritual experience. Our teacher related these moments of being in union with God it to being in love. How when you feel it so deeply, you try everything to describe how you feel: you'll write poetry, write songs...maybe you try to represent it with a work of art...yet all words, all representations fall short. Everything is inadequate. Nothing can describe the feeling... . .We discussed how since these spiritual moments are ineffable, the authors fell back on the one thing that is as close to these experiences of pain and pleasure and ineffable moments of feeling...erotic love. . . I just found it interesting that for experiences so unexplainable, we fall back on eroticism. But then again...how can you describe even that? The moment of passion .. . I suppose it is more carnal, more physical. It is easier described, easier imagined and depicted. . . .just found it so interesting. . ..
I don't know if I articulated that well at all. . .but I tried. I had a moment of ah-ha in class. It just made sense and intrigued me for a moment. Thought I'd write it down. . . .

New Glasses

I ordered some new glasses. They're big. I'm excited to wear them. Also. It snowed here. I really love snow in the wither rather than rain. Rain in the winter just seems so mean. It's cold, and wet and uncomfortable. It's not like a summer rain where you can run out in it and love the big ones that land right on your part. The winter rain is mean, and I never want to go out in it. But snow. Snow in the winter is so nice. It's soft and happy. It's bright and fluffy. Just so much nicer than rain. Rain makes everyone grumpy. Snow just makes things sleepy and kids happy. It gives a blanket to all the trees and cars on the street. They all just take naps. With their big fluffy snow blankets. It's so happy to me. It almost makes me want to lay out in the snow for hours and get a perfect snow blanket. Then I remember things like hypothermia. . ..and I go back inside and take a hot bath. So thats why I like snow more than rain.

I also love Home Alone.
And I think my favorite Beatles song right now is: Cry Baby Cry. It's pretty.
Derek wants to know more about Brian Epstein. So...I'm on the hunt for a book about him since I only know a little bit about him. I like to be well versed in the Beatles.

I want to curl my hair. I might not have time.

How to Get Money From Your Writing Without Getting Published!

Step One: find a rich friend or neighbor
Step Two: Don't get too close.
Step Three: Get close enough so you know what is very important to them. Possibly a who
Step Four: Devise a plan to steal this person or thing
Step Five: Carry out plan. Steal.
Step Six: Tie the person up or hid the thing very well but don't lead on that you have it. When they come to you for consolation, give them a hug tell them you're sure it'll turn up.
Step Seven: Write a ransom note.
Step Eight: Make sure it's not in your writing. Type it or cut out letters from magazines and glue them to a page. That is popular. Make sure the letter demands as much money as you want/need.
Step Nine: Mail the letter to the rich friend or neighbor.
Step Ten: They pay you and you give the person or thing back. Make sure anonymously so they don't know it was you so you can still be friends.
Step Eleven: When they ask you how you got all that money, tell them a lie. You won the lottery. ..or a grandparent died. Make it believable and non-traceable.

And thats how you do it folks.

insane.

I like to write in my blog. . . .and have the words be so tiny that I can't see them. I can just see little gray. . . dots. . .moving across the screen as I use my fingers to type. It's my favorite. And then when I'm done I make it big again and see how many spelling errors and such I had. Then giggle. Thats how I do it.

I don't think I really have much to say.

Rachel and I are going to make a music video for our friend for Christmas. So I'm excited to start that. I love to make videos. I usually drag people into them that don't really want to be a part. . .but it's funny. And then I feel like I'm 7 again and trying to force the boys to play house. You're the dad! Do it! But they just want to play cars. No. boring. I'm a girl. Play house.

I was reading this article online for my ASL class. I made the words really big so it was a full screen page. So it was big. And then i got a text. S o I looked down at my phone. .. and the letters looked so tiny in comparison. It was so adorable I audibly said "awww" Oops. It was just too cute. The tiny letters. So cute. Tiny things are so cute. Miniature. Adorable. Kittens.

I like typing on this keyboard right now. The clicks are amazing. They feel cool. And sound great. I feel. . .awesome. And the nails that are long. Feel very. . .like I'm an important secretary working for Lex Luthor or . Or Jameson.

fingers typing on the home keys. never miss a beat. i can type all day space bar with my right thumb hit the right letters with the right fingers. right as in correct not as in left from right. the numbers stream at the top and i rarely use them i hit backspace with my right middle finger. probably because it is the longest finger. insane.

My confession

I would just like everyone to know (I guess by everyone I mean the 2 people who read this...) that. . .I am actually the ugliest woman alive. I've been hiding it all these years. I'm sorry I lied. I just can't hold it in anymore. It's such a hard thing to hide. But. . . Here is the real me.... I hope you can still accept me.

All of the guilt and fears of being rejected are too much....

Goodbye cruel world.

Okay. I didn't really do it. I just went in the oven a got a nice tan. And coincidently I came out not too bad. Pretty? It's in the eye of the beholder. But look! I'm cured! But being in the oven so long made me lose all color. I'll accept it.


That was my deepest darkest secret. I guess I don't have it anymore though. So. Thats good. Now I'm just color-less. Oh well. I have to write a ten page paper. I've lost my mind.

monday.

Sometimes I'm Garfield and I hate Mondays but I LOVE lasagna. Today. . .I don't hate Monday...I'm just sick of it. Like I literally just feel sick. I slept through my humanities. The first class I have slept through this semester. I always feel so bad when I sleep through classes because I don't want to make the teacher feel like he's boring. He's not boring. I just felt terrible. Thats all. Even though I did bring a sock full of rice to school to heat up and lay across my stomach. I felt like I was in high school. I feel like I did a lot of things like that in high school. Bring random things that are weird to bring but are beneficial to me so I didn't care if people thought it was weird.. ..because I wanted it there. Like a bowl of cereal or a lawn chair. Today it was a sock of rice.

When I walk on campus, I eaves drop. On everyone. Around me. But I think I've gotten to a point where I'm such an amazing eaves dropper that I pick up on everyone's conversation even when i don't want to. And I end up hearing the stupidest conversations and I end up thinking those people are stupid.
"So I was like Cosmo! Cosmo! And he came down to my row. And I gave him a hug. Oh and then I kissed him on his cougar face and I he was like ohhhh.. .and pretended to faint. It was so cool."
"It was so sweet. There was an actual mosh pit at an EFY dance!"
And then when I hear these conversations. . .I start to wonder what I talk about with my friends when I'm around other people, and if they are just as annoyed with me. It happens with how people dress too. Some people dress so obnoxiously. Like they're trying really really hard. Like straining to fit into some category or look like a specific something or someone. I can't get over how I feel when I see girls' hair ridiculously ratted on the top of their head making a dome. Like they have 2 heads. Thinking. . .they spent time on that. Why? And here I am walking around in Adidas snap pants and the same sweater I wear everyday of my life. I wonder if that's annoying to people. And the fact that I never brush my hair. ....At least I don't brush it the wrong way.

I think I'm just extra observant when I feel sick. Like my body won't focus on itself and all of my senses are heightened and all I can think about is every little thing around me. Like how that girl's top lip goes way too far over her bottom lip. Or the conversation 2 nerds are having behind me trying to study for their accounting class. Or how unnecessary all of that lip gloss is to my right. It's like a mirror... so shiny and sticky. Bad idea. I try to be as un-annoying as possible. Which is a 180 since high school. But I probably still am sometimes. And I guess I don't try all that hard other times. I guess just right now. Sitting shaking my left leg and staring into my computer screen. Although there is a sock full of rice on the desk. .. right next to my keyboard. I wonder if that's obnoxious. . .

A boring blog.

I feel like I don't want to write a blog unless I have a story to write. Because I feel like just my normal writing is boring.
Thanksgiving is soon. I'm going to Vernal, Utah. I'm going to visit my Aunt Jane. I'm named after her. Jane is my middle name, not first.
jane be jane.

I feel like I have nothing good to offer this blog.
I played Monopoly on Friday. And it ended when Liz, who only had 8 dollars left so I called her a single mom working at Denny's, she landed on Rob's property with a hotel which would cost her $750 which she didn't have. She was 642 dollars short. So she started yelling "run away train!" and moving her piece around the board a thousand times really fast knocking over all houses and hotels. I guess that means she won. All that mattered was that I owned Kentucky. It had 2 houses. They were probably double wides.

We watched a movie today in Sign Language called "Through Deaf Eyes". Just a little documentary put on by PBS about Deaf people. It was so good though and so sweet. It talked about the little kids having to be sent away to the Deaf schools for a week at a time and their parents not explaining why they had to leave them. It was so sad. These little four year old kids crying because they didn't understand. I cried. It was so sad. I think most anything little kids to makes me cry. They're just so precious. I hate that any of them have to grow up and deal with hard things in the real world. I wish they could stay in pretend world forever.
I live in pretend world.
We eat fluorescent mashed potatoes and have insult contests and food fights.

byu operator.

My new favorite thing is to hold Ctrl and then scroll on a page and make the words really tiny. Favorite.