"Sometimes you just need a good cry." This seems to be a motto that runs through the veins of my female relatives. I used to repeatedly catch my mom watching a sappy homemade Mothers Day slide show on her computer with tears running down her cheeks. I can almost always bet on my mom tearing up every 24 hours on the hour, it could be a from a inspiration e-mail one of her book club friends sent her, or talking about how proud she is of her children, or bringing up a heartwarming memory of my grandpa...come to think about it she is probably crying just reading this blog. My little cousin Grace can't hold back her tears whenever the church choir sings Amazing Grace and by just looking at her it starts a chain reaction of cries right down the pew of the rest of her soppy female relatives. My sister Sheila weeps her little heart out every time she has to leave our family's home after a week vacation to head to the airport. My sister Katie always surprises me when she cries. I never know exactly when it is going to come out but when it does-oh baby it pours. She has this amazingly strong love for people in her life and is constantly striving to make things perfect for those people. But when those people in her life (including me) take out our bad mood on her, her frustration and hard work boils up in the form of old faithful.
I never thought I'd ever tear up as much as my mother does...she is still the record holder, but I am definitely catching up. My tears are another thing that surprise me- they come along with frustration and chick flicks, but then they accidentally squeeze themselves out during class. For a introduction activity for one of my courses, we were asked to do an autobiographical poem. Afterwords, we discussed our poems and who we see ourselves as. I brought up the point that we are often defined by how we are seen by others and how we have no idea how others see us and therefore it is impossible to know our full definitions. Then I got that big old beautiful knot in my throat that makes my voice sound as if I am impersonating Minny mouse, saying "Sometimes my friends and family know me better than I know myself, whether it is a package of peeps my friend picked up for me from CVS just as a small reminder that even though I am miles away from my home there is still somebody that loves me enough to know that when I am having a bad day a package of my favorite candy is all I need, or sometimes all I need is a call from one my sisters giving me a pep talk about what is going on in my life." Luckily, I don't think anybody in my class noticed my red eyes. But it makes me laugh just thinking that if my mom and sisters were sitting next to me they'd be tearing up too. It isn't just our blood that proves we are related, it is the obscene amount of water our tearducts are able to produce.
"There are always flowers for those who want to see them."
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Sunday Styles
The New York Times, Sunday Edition is a required text for my English course. (And yes, if you are the apartment above mine, I stole your NYT, but your newspapers have been piling up outside the door so I thought I'd do you a favor.) I didn't think I'd use this as an online confessional but it seems to be working out that way.
Anyways, I now understand why Charlotte from Sex in the City is obsessed with the wedding announcement section, or why it is only printed in the Sunday edition: because hopeless romantics like myself would never leave their cup of coffee, tissue box, and columns upon columns of the next You've Got Mail or The Notebook chick flicks, or why when my English professor asks what I found interesting in the NYT, my only answer will be "that it took Josh Gadbow three years of perfect dates to finally kiss Beth Leachman."
"He soon whispered 'I love you' at a pizza and wine bar called the Kitchen Upstairs that, in true Boulder fashion even recycles drinking straws. Ms. Leachman's reply was as circuitous as an Irish ballad: 'Thank you' she recalled saying. Then she told him 'all the things he might not like about me once he got to know me.' When he seemed unfazed, she told him she would love him forever." ...I mean how perfect is that?
So instead of spending $12 bucks at the movie theater, I recommend picking up the latest Sunday edition, popping a bag of popcorn and enjoying a night in. (Note: You should also read the rest of the paper...they tell me it's important.)
"I'd rather have roses on my table, than diamonds on my neck."
-Emma Goldman
Anyways, I now understand why Charlotte from Sex in the City is obsessed with the wedding announcement section, or why it is only printed in the Sunday edition: because hopeless romantics like myself would never leave their cup of coffee, tissue box, and columns upon columns of the next You've Got Mail or The Notebook chick flicks, or why when my English professor asks what I found interesting in the NYT, my only answer will be "that it took Josh Gadbow three years of perfect dates to finally kiss Beth Leachman."
"He soon whispered 'I love you' at a pizza and wine bar called the Kitchen Upstairs that, in true Boulder fashion even recycles drinking straws. Ms. Leachman's reply was as circuitous as an Irish ballad: 'Thank you' she recalled saying. Then she told him 'all the things he might not like about me once he got to know me.' When he seemed unfazed, she told him she would love him forever." ...I mean how perfect is that?
So instead of spending $12 bucks at the movie theater, I recommend picking up the latest Sunday edition, popping a bag of popcorn and enjoying a night in. (Note: You should also read the rest of the paper...they tell me it's important.)
"I'd rather have roses on my table, than diamonds on my neck."
-Emma Goldman
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Breaking The Ice
How much does a polar bear weigh?
Just enough to break the ice!
Okay, it is a little bit lame, but this is my first time blogging so give me a 'break.' I have decided to title my blog "Jane's Fresh Cut Thoughts" because it has always been a dream of mine to open my own flower shop. I worked at Trenton Flower Shop while in high school and fell in love with the business. You never run into an mad customer. Everyone walks into the shop, smells the sweetness, and leaves happy. As the delivery girl, I was given the chance to make everyone's day by surprising them with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from their son who lives across the country, or from a close friend who wishes they would feel better, or from a date last night that went over extremely well. You get a glimpse into a person's soul when you write the note that sticks into the bouquet, you see how in love they are with their wives or how sorry they are for something hurtful they said to a friend. Writing these messages can get you into a bit of trouble though, for instance: when I signed "Love, Tom" instead of "Love, Todd". My boss wasn't too happy about that mistake.
Another dream of mine is to be an elementary teacher, which I am working towards by gaining my undergraduate degree from Michigan State University. For the first few weeks of this blog, I will be using it to discuss topics for my TE 448 class, "Issues of Diversity in Children's and Adolescent Literature". I hope to continue this blog after the course is finished to explore my thoughts on issues of education, my daily life, or just anything I find interesting.
"The World Laughs In Flowers." Ralph Waldo Emerson
Just enough to break the ice!
Okay, it is a little bit lame, but this is my first time blogging so give me a 'break.' I have decided to title my blog "Jane's Fresh Cut Thoughts" because it has always been a dream of mine to open my own flower shop. I worked at Trenton Flower Shop while in high school and fell in love with the business. You never run into an mad customer. Everyone walks into the shop, smells the sweetness, and leaves happy. As the delivery girl, I was given the chance to make everyone's day by surprising them with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from their son who lives across the country, or from a close friend who wishes they would feel better, or from a date last night that went over extremely well. You get a glimpse into a person's soul when you write the note that sticks into the bouquet, you see how in love they are with their wives or how sorry they are for something hurtful they said to a friend. Writing these messages can get you into a bit of trouble though, for instance: when I signed "Love, Tom" instead of "Love, Todd". My boss wasn't too happy about that mistake.
Another dream of mine is to be an elementary teacher, which I am working towards by gaining my undergraduate degree from Michigan State University. For the first few weeks of this blog, I will be using it to discuss topics for my TE 448 class, "Issues of Diversity in Children's and Adolescent Literature". I hope to continue this blog after the course is finished to explore my thoughts on issues of education, my daily life, or just anything I find interesting.
"The World Laughs In Flowers." Ralph Waldo Emerson
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