Dallas does...wintery weather.

My gosh it's cold outside. So here's some great poetry to read as you snuggle-up with someone special.

In Paris with You by James Fenton

Don't talk to me of love, I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.

Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.

Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre,
If we say sod off to the sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysees
And remain here in this sleazy

Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.

Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.

Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with...all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.

Valentine by Wendy Cope

My heart has made its mind up
And I'm afraid it's you.
Whatever you've got lined up,
My heart has made its mind up
And if you can't be signed up
This year, next year will do.
My heart has made its mind up
And I'm afraid it's you.

Letting Go by Daryl Hine

I love you first the time I saw you last,
I knew you best before I let you go.
All the misapprehensions of the past
Dissipated in an hour or so.
Naked to the human eye you lay
Candid as a cadaver on the couch
I could have slept on, but I went away
Ashamed to stay, afraid almost to touch.

Lost, you seemed the only vivid thing
In a world made moribund and flat
By worldliness. Renunciations bring
Their own reward, apparently like that
Last look of yours, ironical or tender,
A valediction and a benediction,
Which endless reruns will not soon surrender,
The indispensable, improper fiction
Of your unforgettable perfection.


:) I want to be unforgettably perfect...for someone!

Stay warm, everyone!

Thought of the day:
"The only way to get to forever is a day at a time."

Peace, love and pinky toes,
Kels.

Dallas does...being okay.

Another day, another smile.
More laughs to burst your eardrum.
The sunshine through fall leaves lighting my stroll home in skinny jeans.
I'm not sure I'm okay with this.
Bad news echoing always over the roar of Iowa City distraction.
Tears welling up where they don't belong.
Autumn rides in on a cool breeze.
My invincible summer has yet to leave me.
I'm happy but...
Even joyful but...
When will it all start to sink in.
Forgive me for my sunshine.
I swear I'll let you in.
I just have to let myself in first.
Trust me, I need to trust you.
Fear has a way of coming uninvited.
For now, there's just this sinking feeling.
That the next smile will scare off.
I just want to listen until I'm ready
So tell your stories,
And I'll scream my laughs,
And I'll be okay again.

Dallas does...laying it all out on the table.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Love is not easy.
So why do all of us females of the world, from tween to ninety-three, walk around proclaiming how much we want it? How much we gotta have it? How much we can't live without it?
Well, that's simple. I'm not sure even three-quarters of us know exactly what it is that we're asking for. Think about it. When you think about being in love, what pops into your head?
Allow me to take a few guesses. When we think about love, we think about having a Valentine to send us flowers and buy a huge box of chocolates. About having a date to snuggle with at the new Katherine Heigl movie. About changing that pesky 'single' on our Facebook page into a happy "in a relationship with..." (with the little red heart to boot!).
But is that really what love is about? All those perfect nights where you're kissing in the rain and your make-up is always flawless and all anyone talks about is how cute your kids are going to be?
'Fraid not, old chap.
Coming from someone who's ridden the rough road of love, love is oftentimes about surviving stupid arguments, drumming up the energy to keep your moodiness out of the equation and finding a way to distinguish between loving someone because they're right for you and loving someone because you don't want to be alone.
But wait a minute! How can this be the same love that we all aspire to? The love that inspires poetry and plays a part in almost every song on the Top 40 charts right now.
I detect an impostor.
Do you really want to know why love doesn't work out most of the time?
It's because billions of people around the world aren't actually looking for love. They're looking for that emotion they see portrayed in romantic comedies, Cosmopolitan's Red Hot Reads section and in the thousands of Hallmark cards sold every Valentine's day.
Now it would be a huge lie if I said that's not the kind of love I've been proclaiming my undying servitude to in many of my former blog posts. But recently it just sort of hit me: The sooner you wipe away every single expectation you've ever had, the sooner you have the potential to really make something of that stubborn heart of yours.
What I'm asking for here is a clean slate. A chance for love to have the chance to come when it's ready to come without the burden of a thousand Barbie and Ken, bubblegum-pink perfect scenarios to compete with in every girl's mind.
So what I'm proposing here is a belief in a new kind of love. A kind of love that doesn't have movie plots singing its praises or ten novels being published about it every day.
The kind of love I grew-up seeing when my parents would get into ten minute arguments about how dare my dad cut the monkey pictures off my mom's address labels but never forget to kiss each other goodbye when my dad left for a business trip.
The kind of love that says "You drive me crazy and I wouldn't have it any other way."
Because if someone really loves you, they're offering a piece of themselves that is so much more than perfect make-up and cute hearts on your Facebook page. A piece of themselves that not just anybody gets access to.
So the next time you're on the verge of something that you think could be great, take a moment to think about all the exciting luxuries of love that could be lying ahead- and then push them to the back of your mind.
Because right now what's important is learning how to survive the bread and butter of what love really is: the burnt meatloaf, the over-involved in-laws and the arguments about monkey stickers.
Are you ready for that? Are you ready to give up delusions of fairy tales that you've been storing up since Prince Charming chose Cinderella all those many years ago?
If so, then maybe we're getting somewhere.

Thought of the day...from a place that causes me to admit I always enjoy reading my horoscope for a laugh:
"Slow down; time is on your side. Serious thought will bring extraordinary results." [Zen]

Peace, love and polka-dots,
Kels.

Dallas does...reasons to smile.

Yesterday's blog had me waltzing through the valley of melancholy, so in spite of that journey being far from over, today's blog is going to be about something I happen to be fantastic at: finding pleasure in the simple things.
Here is a list (as all-inclusive as my sleepy mind will allow) of every single thing I have to be grateful for/happy about no matter what is troubling my worrisome thought cycle.
1. I am in love with laughing and I am in love with my laugh. No matter how annoyingly loud it is, and no matter how many times I get yelled at for being disruptive, it is one of the most unique parts of who I am, and this special scream-laugh spreads smiles like nobody's business.
2. Powdered foods. Whether mashed potatoes, fun dip or hot chocolate mix, powdered foods are the bomb.
3. My Betty Crocker baking skills. Have you tasted my Funfetti Cake? How about my brownies? Being my friend is worth getting chubby from cherished desserts.
4. There are deer on my pajama pants wearing scarves. I also wore a scarf today. It was yellow.
5. My stats professor talking about lurking variables today. That should actually be typed lurking variables because of the air of mystery he imparted on them. He went on to relish in the 'imagery' of the phrase. That man is a caricature.
6. Stats prof's shirt was green- my fav.
7. My Sports Econ professor remembered my name! And took the crazy question I asked seriously.
8. I got to sit on my absolute favorite spot on the old capitol building and was only mildly cold.
9. Skinny jeans have been a magnificent addition to the relationship I have with my ghetto booty.
10. I have not yet ripped my sheets out from under the mattress with my epically violent sleeping.
11. My emails are witty.
12. My radio was playing "Teenage Dream" by Katy Perry when it woke me up this morning.
13. Tennis club won the Iowa Invite yesterday!
14. I got sunburned yet again, but this time my face ended up looking wonderfully sunkissed.
15. In poetry class we're discussing John Donne again tomorrow- he happens to be my favorite poet at the moment.
16. Tomorrow is Tuesday which means it's Java House time with Monica!
17. Infared camera in Physics class. I felt like I was a character on C.S.I.
18. The Backstreet Boys. As ashamed as I am to admit it, having a Bboy song come on when my Ipod was on shuffle was one of the most exciting moments of the day.
19. A Daily Iowan writer mentioned Justin Bieber in his sports column.
20. Last Chance Workout didn't kick my ass this morning- it only helped shrink it.
21. A's on both tests I took last week!
22. The roomies and I actually get along...really well.
23. I love being able to write.
24. Being webmaster for the tennis club website gives me a ridiculous sense of accomplishment every time an update is successful.
25. I make people smile a lot more often than I make them sad.
26. V-necks.
27. Today Professor Holstein said the being nice can be one of the worst things that ever happened to a person. I happen to think being nice is one of the best things that ever happened to me.
28. I caught Alain listening to 98 degrees.
29. My words-per-minute typing would put any office professional to shame.
30. Sleeping when it's cold out is even more snuggly and wonderful than usual.
31. I still have a crush. And while I have no idea where the situation will go, at least he enjoys my company.
32. I enjoy being responsible and smart.
33. I am a good listener.
34. With age, I have become more patient.
35. I am really good at adding and subtracting in my head.
36. The ability microsoft excel has to kick my butt matters little in the long-run.
37. People trust me.
38. I have a lot of Yoplait yogurt in the fridge. That stuff is heavenly.
39. Every day I get better at being me.
40. I'm learning to ask the right questions.

Today's thought of the day:
"Be wise enough not to be reckless, but brave enough to take great risks."

Peace, love and parkour,
Kels.

Dallas does...the thinking game.

Here we are at the close of a week, which means only one thing: it's the beginning of another.
And unlike many other blogs in which I cleverly wander about the happenings of my life, alluding to romantic excitements and sharing the wisdom I've gained from professors, friends and family, in this blog I just want to share a few thoughts about what's been on my mind all weekend: the process of thinking.
Why only a few thoughts?
Well, that would be because I only have a few coherent thoughts left.
I feel entirely unsettled.
And what is most upsetting is that I've always taken myself for a pretty well-sorted individual. I don't just coast through life; I explore my thoughts and have worked hard to have a genuine sense of who I am.
But I am broken-hearted to know that I am truly not much of a deep thinker. I want to be one. I want to be able to know that a certain situation needs to be explored further and then chew at it until something pops out of my brain's central processing unit that I can hang my hat on.
Instead, I just feel lost- lost in a world that doesn't encourage deep thought.
We're programmed to go about our business without making any ripples- not even to mention a tidal wave- and to find people who share our half-explored thoughts who also make good euchre partners or laugh at all our jokes.
What's really rare and beautiful is to find someone who in the very way they go about their daily life makes you pause for a moment and get the itch to start rooting through every single life lesson that you have stored away in your mind's filing cabinets until you know with absolute certainty that those mantras are what you want defining you.
The problem is that conducting an Autumn cleaning of my brain has been rough...and it's only been a few days. I feel like someone has splashed cold water on my face and awakened me to the rut I've let my thoughts fall into.
And I'm trying to do something about it.
And so far all I've gained is a certain sense of melancholy.
But somehow I know it's going to be worth it. Because when I get my sunshine back I want it to be the real kind, the kind that comes in the first few days of spring, when you can finally feel the sun's warmth again kissing your skin as you shed your jacket- the kind of sunshine that comes when you know that you're meant to be thinking what you're thinking and you haven't just become a vessel for everyone's opinion but your own.

Today's thought of the day is a sonnet I wrote for poetry class that is an integral part of what launched me into this round of the thinking game:
THE THINKER
He walks before the town has thought to rise;
the streets still unmolested by the sun,
their pavement telling tales of last night's lies.
A new day must begin as one is done.
He walks weighed down by thoughts of long-gone days,
of paths untouched by wand'rings of his sole.
This solemn peace of morning cannot stay,
though with his thoughts it has grown rich and full.
He walks alone without a need to go
on daytime pathways marked by stops and signs.
His mind will guide his footsteps' ebb and flow,
and run for miles before the sun can shine.
He walks at dawn to have a chance to be
a man from worldly fear and pain set free.

Peace, love and fuzzy peaches,
Kels.