Friday, June 22, 2012

procrastination station: rainstorm pictures.

sometimes, instead of writing your paper, you edit the pictures from yesterday 's rainstorm which you also took instead of writing your paper. 

while attempting to capture the fury of the rainstorm outside i took a video. it wasn't until two minutes ago when i watched that video back that i realized there is a dude, just walking through the frantic rain. crazy, austrian. 

well... I’m going to go write a paper on something I haven’t even researched yet. but with this aggressive dubstep at my inspiration I am confident I will write something to move the masses.
"wub wub wub bbbbbuh tchya web web wub wub wuuuubbb SCREAM!"
it is complete. 

but for reals, that's what i'm going to go do now. 
(also, that part of me listening to dubstep was a joke... i would never... yeah.)

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

to love the warm night air.

do you remember the first time you felt content? like the thorough, aware-of-your-surroundings-in-a-grown-up-sense, content with the current moment of time in which you were living?
i do.

i was probably twelve (it's kinda funny how everything i remember seems to have happened when i was twelve.) and it was nearing easter time. my mother was frantically rushing around the house at ten thirty that night, attempting to undo our messes faster than we could make them. we were expecting my grandparents to arrive any moment.  all the windows were open so the cooling desert breeze could circulate through the house, airing out the freshly sterilized smell. i remember sneaking outside to sit on the porch bench to wait. i was positively bursting with anticipation and happiness. the buzz of our frantic cleaning had stirred up the butterflies in my stomach and i felt so full of so many good things that i couldn't stay inside anymore. this is when i fell in love with warm night air. 

i don't remember what time my grandparents eventually showed up. i don't remember what i got for easter that year. i don't even remember what age i truly was, but every year when the night air finally becomes a pleasant, tolerable version of the day's sweltering heat, i remember that night and i feel so full of childlike contentment that i can't help but get lost in the breeze. and i feel unbelievably full of so many good things once again.

i wanted to do something special for my 100th post and without realizing it, i wrote this instead. 
and it couldn't be more perfect.