86 - Where the Wild Things Are

Today is a sad day.

Maurice Sendak, the author of Where the Wild Things Are, passed away at the very respectable age of 83.

I'll be honest, I don't really know much about him. But I did grow up with Where the Wild Things Are, and so did, I think, almost every child in my generation. (Probably generations before me, as well.)

I always marvel at the genius it takes to create successful children's books. I mean, look at Dr. Seuss. You have to have quite the imagination and insight to delve into a child's mind after you've passed childhood. Sendak's books, so I've read, often relayed observations about the human psyche. If you've ever seen the movie of Where the Wild Things Are, you'd know that's true. My mom said that movie would be an awesome psychology movie -- not so much for little kids. But it was the illustrations in Sendak's book that made it such a great little kid book.

My sister is a kindergarten teacher, so she's starting to gain a collection of good children's books. It's interesting to look at the new ones to see what the new trends are. It's also interesting to look at the books that were read to me in elementary school. Comparatively, my elementary school days were not that long ago. (The librarian was my best friend and she would let me read books that hadn't even been processed yet. But I digress.)

I'd like to think that I have an active imagination. At least, more active than some. I'm passionate about artistic things and I frequently am locked away in the recesses of my mind - sometimes for hours. But, I'm definitely not a creative genius. Writers always like to think that their work is appreciated, though. I'm pretty sure they all fantasize about being world-renowned. I know I probably would never be like that - I don't even know if I could write fiction. But my sister said something a few months ago that stuck with me.

I've written regularly in my journal since I was 12. I just finished my fourth one since then, and sometimes I feel like I write because I have to. Future posterity and all that. But my sister said that sometimes it's good to write for the sake of writing. Not for anyone else except for you. I lose sight of that sometimes. Like in this blog, for example. I oftentimes find myself writing for other people - I write to receive comments. I try to emulate the professional bloggers out there, in hopes of one day gaining attention. Cole commented it on it, actually. He said that sometimes when he reads my blog, it doesn't sound like me. He said that sometimes I write in the style of other people as opposed to in the style of myself. That stuck with me also.

In order to be a writer, you have to put a little bit of yourself on paper. It's very similar to acting in that every person has a different style -- a different voice. Sometimes I put on an act, to impress people or to make myself feel better. Sometimes I hide from what I'm really feeling. If I write something down, it makes it more concrete. So if I don't want something to be true, I have a hard time writing it down. Just like Max in Sendak's book, I hide from the things that scare me. Love. Fear. Anger. Worry. Frustration. Pettiness.

Maurice Sendak wrote a book that not only spoke to children, it spoke to everyone. It speaks to everyone. I don't want to get all romantic about literature (like I tend to do), but there's something about putting serious insights like that in a children's book that makes them more poignant, somehow. Everyone feels those things, at least at one point in their life. Children aren't alone in feeling scared or angry. If anything, being older is more scary because you know that magic isn't real. I know that someday I'll be married and raising my own kids. I know that I can't be in school forever. I know that I'll have to be financially independent. I know that I'll have to make tough choices -- me, by myself. No one else.

There is a lot of responsibility that comes with having your own life.

I think we all need to go where the wild things are sometimes, so we can know that they aren't all bad. Scary -- yes. But not always bad.

Thank you, Maurice Sendak. You were an inspiration to us all.

You taught us that to face our fears, we simply need to put on our wolf suits and ride on a boat to greet our wild things with courage, determination, and an open mind.

So, everyone. Let the wild rumpus start.

-ka

80 - Noticing

Things I've noticed:

• You can have more than one home, because home isn't a specific place. It's an atmosphere in which  you feel loved. 
• It's ok to like things that you're not "supposed" to like. Don't buy into all that stereotypical crap. Like what you like, because you like it for a reason. 
• School is hard sometimes, but it's worth it. College isn't the place to slack off. There are much less expensive places to be lazy. 
• Kindles are really cool, and I was wrong to misjudge them. I can still love reading (and owning and buying) books and also like reading on my kindle. 
• Going to the gym is empowering. I've made it part of my (mostly) daily routine, and I love it. It makes me feel productive and healthy. 
• Setting goals actually works when you take them seriously. 
• Earplugs are a great investment when you're living in a college dorm. 
• Trusting is easier the more you do it. Pretending to trust someone is not the same thing as actually trusting them. It can be really hard, and it's not something that you can just jump into right away. Ease into it, and the bigger things will come naturally. 
• You're never too young or too old to spend hour after hour laughing with people with whom you love to laugh. 
• If you think you understand Utah weather just because you've lived here all of your life, you're wrong.  
• A good book is still the best setting in which to get lost. 
• Also, this:

Harry Potter jokes will always be funny. To me, at least.

-ka

78 - Be Mine

Valentine's Day was wonderful this year :)

It was on a Tuesday, so I got to start the day with my favorite class, Literary Analysis. We've been talking about poetry, and most of the class that day was spent discussing why most love poems are not actually love poems at all. Haha. Then, I went to the gym for a quick bike ride (mostly so I could get my hair a little bit dirty) and then I curled my hair. At around 6, I went over to Cole's apartment and we hung out for a couple hours before heading over to the Olive Garden for dinner. He'd made a reservation for 8:15 (smart), and we happily walked to our table, passing dozens of couples waiting in line for hours. Dinner was great and not only did our server give us double Andes mints, but it also started snowing when we walked out to the car! (It hasn't snowed in a very long time.) It was perfect. We ended the night cuddling on the couch, watching Crazy, Stupid, Love, and the snow was falling even more when he walked me back to my apartment.

Cole doesn't have a job and has to sell his plasma as a source of income, so money is scarce. The day before Valentine's Day, he'd asked me if I wanted flowers or to go out to dinner. I said dinner, obviously. Haha. But he surprised me with both. :) I had a fun time taking pictures of them...

He always picks out the coolest flowers. I think black-eyed daisies are so pretty and they were a fun contrast against the new snow! My roommate took a cool picture of me with one of the daisies...

I couldn't decide which one of them I liked the best... so I just put them all! Haha. Unfortunately, I didn't take my camera with me on our date, so I don't have any pictures. :( But, Cole's Valentine's present just came in the mail!

It's supposed to go on a keychain. We play this game sometimes, as a way to measure love (if that's even possible...) He wrote me an entire letter once, full of things that he loved. And he always said he loved me more :) I love books, as everybody knows, so I thought this would be a thoughtful reminder of how much I love him. Simple, and surprisingly inexpensive. That's my kind of gift.

Happy V-day, everyone. I hope it was simply wonderful.
Mine was.
:)

76 - Wizardry

Ok - so, weird but awesome dream.

Voldemort came back. Not only for the first time, or the second time, but the third time. The first time, Harry defeated him. The second time, MY FAMILY defeated him (which was what the 8th book was about), and in this dream he came back for a third time! Everyone in my family was preparing for an epic battle of magic. I couldn't find my wand and Mom almost made me leave so I wouldn't get hurt, but then Tyler proclaimed "Accio Kolbie's wand!" and it flew into my hand! Then I did all sorts of magic stuff, and Voldemort arrived in all of his evil glory. The battle was tough -- no one knew who was going to win. But then Cole and I teamed up and did a super spell on old Voldy and he exploded. (None of that flaking away stuff he did in the movie... bleh.)

Seriously? I woke up so empowered. And also disappointed. :(

I wish I was a wizard so much.

63 - The 13th

Today is Friday the 13th.

It all started with the most realistic nightmare I have ever had. I don't really want to go into the details because all of it scares me. But, suffice it to say that it ends with people I love dying. Cole, Nan, Kim, Porter, Rebecca, Adri, Rachel, and Kenzie. Not only do they die, I see each of the deaths in gruesome slow motion and they're caused by the Big Earthquake that's going to happen on Utah's fault line. So, I woke up hyperventilating.

While I was in the shower, I noticed a tingling feeling on my lip. Cold sore. Third one in six months. I didn't bring any pills or Abreva from Salt Lake specifically because I knew I'd already had two so close together and the likelihood of me getting another one was slim.

While in psych class, I noticed the date. And the day. And the correlation hit me. Today is Friday the 13th.

Literally just happened: Cole told me he has shingles. (Similar to the chicken pox.)

Today is Friday the 13th.

*shudder*

61 - A Thousand Faces

For Christmas, my mother gave me a semi-professional curling iron. My hair is stalk-straight and normally takes SO MUCH hairspray to hold its shape. My hair is very fine (in-between thick and thin), but I have a lot of it. As a result, it takes about an hour and a half to curl my hair. This morning, I woke up at 7:45 so I would have time to curl it and get ready for my 10:30 class. I also didn't have hairspray. A pointless effort, you say? Not so. My curling iron is so hot that the curls stayed! Well, sort of. The back -- not so much. I took a half hour after all of my classes to touch up. I like taking funny facial expression pictures, so it seemed like the perfect time what with my hair being all curled and all...

Yes, this post is all about me. But, darnit, I looked pretty today and this is my blog. :) 

If it makes you feel any better, I burned my finger on the curling iron. Ouch :( Also, yesterday I accidentally got face wash in my eye. Ouch again :(

At the very least I made you laugh, right?