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Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Date A Girl Who Reads- Rosemarie Urquico

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

I wasn't gonna post this here, but...

Did you feel that?
.   .How I kissed you?

For a moment I was more alive than I've ever been.
.   . Did your heart skip a beat?
.   .Did you see me stumbling on my feet?

From the Beginning. 
See while my soul was soaring your mind as a stampede of thoughts, staring at me, nervewracked,your mind and your heart racing a million miles an hour.
.   .I know you're worried about getting this right, but it's not like you've never kissed me before.

There was the first time, when we stumbled hand in hand,
.   .Drunken, giddy,
.   .and completely out of our minds. Forgetting the rest of the night but remembering our
.         .breath catching
.         .bodies pausing
.         .first kiss...

...That opened up the flood gates to countless more
     Playful
          Longing
               Passionate.
     hundreds of thousands and aiming for millions
     not pausing to think before hand again until

You leaned towards me
     Stopped, and stared at me.
     and simultaneously we spoke
          "I love you." 
          I kissed you. You kissed me.
          I love you, you love me
     in one of those scenes that can only happen in movies
     written expressly
          for the hopelessly romantic like me.

then came the nights that bore no kiss at all
     only tears and screaming
     and saying the words to hurt each other in every possible way
   for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
     and as passionately, madly in love with you 
     as I was 
     sometimes, I hated your fucking guts.

     and you hated mine.

So we'd fight and we'd scream
     turn our backs when we'd sleep
     and you'd seeth and I'd cry
     and halfway through the night I'd wake up, still crying
          begging you to face me again
          and let me know we're alright
     You'd take my hand, hold it tight, and promise me
          you'd always, always love me.

We always worked through those nights
     and eventually tired of fighting
     learned to talk, communicate.
         and our kisses got sweeter
         our love took over again.

But for the third time in your life
     your knees shook at the though
     of kissing me again.

You were late for dinner, and silent the whole night.
     sweating and stressing and fumbling with your hands 
     finally you smiled and asked me to dance
          I stood up, you took my hand, dropped to a knee...

So now here you are, standing across from me,
     the last time you'll ever be anxious to kiss me,
     because this next kiss, the kiss of our lives
     is our promise, our vow, my husband, your wife.

We step as close to each other as our attire allows
     I smile, I cry, I vow,
     I promise, forever, I do, 
          I can see it in your eyes, feel it in your heart, that you're feeling
               the way I kiss you

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

When I'm dead when I'm forgotten, you'll forever be my father, and I'll be saving tears in jars for this one.

Anybody who's been close to me for any amount of time knows the issues I can have with my father, and how much they upset me. Chelsea the most because she's the only one who's been witness to me waking up in tears because of dreams I've had with my father in them where we fight mercilessly.
And anybody who's known me well enough knows that I'm kind of weird about being called beautiful - I very rarely believe it so hearing it very rarely makes me happy.
But today being told I was beautiful made me the happiest it's ever made me - because it was my daddy saying it to me. It made me probably happier than a girl hearing her father tell her she's beautiful should be, but considering it's the first time in my memory my dad has ever told me that, I still feel like I could cry. From happiness. It touched me more than any compliment I've ever been given.
"I'm sure anybody would agree with me in saying you look absolutely beautiful."
That's not something I'm likely to forget, ever.

In other news, I had a mid-college crisis today. It hit me that I wasn't entirely sure what I wanted to do. I've been saying I want to teach history for a few months now, but the idea of working in a museum has also been on my mind, but more heavily I've been dreaming of opening up a book store. It's been weighing on my mind and I believe that God put the idea in my heart not necessarily for me to make it a reality, but to open my eyes and see that maybe just a history degree isn't going to cut it. So I've decided that when I go to change my major today, I'll be changing it to History officially, with a minor in Applied Business. But I'll be going past getting just a minor and I'll get an Associates in Applied Business with a concentration in Entrepreneurship. Having that degree will broaden a lot of horizons in my future should my dream of teaching- or being a museum curator- not work out. And they'll open that doorway should I decide I do want to open a bookstore. My dad did point out to me that bookstores are failing because of large corporations like Barnes and Noble, and Amazon, but I still think it'd be nice to have a quaint bookstore in a small town somewhere that's lacking a Borders or a Waldenbooks. Either way, I've got my class schedule set up to start this new path - and it makes me happy. I finally feel like I'm going towards a destination and not just wandering this college path until something comes to me.


Today has been life changing and unforgettable in the best of ways.(: