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alie10e14
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Name: alison
Birthday: 8/17/1985
Interests: i keep wondering why i've never gone through with one of my more "wilder" dreams. driving towards the west coast in some sort of beat-up Julie-Roberts-country song-of-a-Chevy. just a few tank tops in my duffel and one dirty, July pair of jeans. frequent stops at self-serve, kicking dirt up at the unlimiting speed signs, sleeping passenger side while my lover's at ease at the wheel. maybe not so "wild" in content..... but wild in the leaving.
Expertise: oh my god, you mean, i have to do something with my life?? good laugh. wish i would have known that sooner.
Occupation: burger flipper, writer... same
Message: message me
Member Since:
9/8/2003
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| ok - i'm taking this seriously, as should you.
i know this may seem to be quite the attempt for something especially nonessential, but i'm striving to be heard. so i need some feedback here....
would you read me more here, or at my other site?
and in case you missed the memo, i was at http://farewelltoheart.blogspot.com.
so hey, let me know. i'll write for you where you tell me to. and this is big considering i have entered, and enjoying, a very selfish wing in my life.
ever so kindly,
alison | | |
| ok, so i'm a complete dumbass.
try:
http://farewelltoheart.blogspot.com
that would help some.
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| deb & w. on their wedding day, june 6, 1981. rock on. | | |
| i used to fear less. or i was more often fearless. either way, i can name about two courageous things i've done lately to date:
-walked to the kitchen in my underwear. note that i have two guy roommates whom are 25 years old... both who have girlfriends... and two girl roommates, both who have morals... not that i don't, but they're far less likely to be fearless than i am, or, well... when i'm having a fearless day. also note that i live on the third floor, so the chances of someone seeing me in my 'night-wear' is more often than not.
-i ran under the Hennepin Bridge after dark. this may or may not be considered fearless, but instead just a bad decision seeing that faces are hard to see in the dark, let alone in the dark & through cased shadows. i could have been killed for all i know - you hear about it often? or maybe it's just because news such as always finds its fine way to my mother and my mother knows damn well where to find me.
the things that i used to spend only seconds thinking about before acting on are now hard for me to sway for. i know the exact moment i cracked through my shell. high school. well, i was always the go-to girl on the block circa 1998. i organized parades to honor our country, i taught dance, tennis and gymnastic lessons. i managed the lemonade stands, cutting my piano teacher deals on cherry koolaid. i made mental note of the older kids who would skateboard by my yard and spit a loogy and then made sure to keep an eye out for little Lizzy, Maddie and Ashley.
i honestly feel like my body's switchboard if suffering from extreme malfunctioning. somewhere along the way, a wrong button was pushed, as if my machine will never be the same again. god, i hope that's not the case... but somedays, i feel beyond repair. other days, i feel like i followed course well.
god, my posts haven't really left this air in a while, and rightfully so. and why is it that i'm always dreaming about myself leaving? am i ordained to be a gypsy?
E-E-EEEEDIT: i should mention that hannah, my everlasting best friend, turned twenty-one on tuesday. i know, twenty-one's are more of the 'she' than the 'bang' in the 'she-bang' these days, but all the same (hey, i'm in august so don't turn thumbs yet). i'm driving to milwaukee tomorrow to reunite with my love of a decade. not only that, but i get to see mel, too. my heart leaps thinking about it. now this... this is something that makes me feel as though i don't even need the goddamn switchboard. | | |
| in all my attempts to soften up to Minneapolis, last night had to top them all. i went for a run across the iconic Stone Arch Bridge and along the river, back across the Hennepin Ave bridge and down St. Anthony's Main Street -- my favorite street in all of the city. favorably for me, it's a block from my house. i sat myself down between two parking meters just to the right of the historical Pillsbury 'A' factory. despite the setting sun, i felt like everywhere i look, and lately all that i hear, is construction. i woke up only twenty minutes before the house-shaking cement-hammering began outside my window. i could literally SEE the leaves on the trees in the backyard quivering from the machine that will eventually be known as murderous to one thing or another. this morning, standing in the middle of my room, i could even see my calves twitching from the destructive jacking. i'm surprised i didn't fall straight through the floor. but anyway, it was nearly 70 degrees and with the sun spraying through the oaks on Main, i thought for sure i could get used to it.... granted i had a plentiful enough bank account to remain stable post-buying a $1 million condo that overlooks the river and the city's skyline.
right, i'm sure my publishing career will surely support that. or maybe law? or maybe medical? just kidding. oh my god, could you see me taking orders from a resident at any given hospital? "CLEAR!" yeah, i'll clear allright. so in conclusion, what i came to last night as i sat curbside, was that i never want to be a doctor. and this, tops it all. | | |
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