Pauline got her groove back.

"The one claim I shall make for my own sex is that we love longest, when all hope is gone."
-Film's Persuasion (2007)

It feels like I'm trying so hard to talk to you, but the more you don't care, the more I don't either.

There are lovers content with longing.
I'm not one of them.
-Rumi

CarrollBlog 10.22

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

“I live in Tokyo,” he told me, “a kind of civilized world — like New York or Los Angeles or London or Paris. If you want to find a magical situation, magical things, you have to go deep inside yourself. So that is what I do. People say it’s magic realism — but in the depths of my soul, it’s just realism. Not magical. While I’m writing, it’s very natural, very logical, very realistic and reasonable.”
-Haruki Murakami

My dad dreamt that my mom was alive.

For November:
1. Apply for internships.
2. Working part-time.
3. Interning.
4. Writing a novel.

November is going to be a killer. I can't wait.

Before I forget

“Love comes to those who still hope even though they've been disappointed, to those who still believe even though they've been betrayed, to those who still love even though they've been hurt before.”
-Unknown

I don't take being ignored very well.

And now a couple having sex while skydiving... Unbelievable.

The news is getting outrageous: US House passes bill to ban federal funds for health care services providing abortions; former death-row inmate is released and married to a woman 10 years older, and a self-proclaimed "super hero" gets arrested.

Disappointments

I'm inspired by one of my friends. I've been giving her tips on how to handle an interview for a job that I had gone through earlier this year, though I wasn't accepted.

I was bitter when I was rejected and used it as an an excuse not to apply to other places, when I should have known better. At time I was angry because I was sure that I was qualified and ready to take on this challenging occupation. It was a disappointment that I've let go, but never understood what the whole point was. Why did I go through this tedious process to get rejected?

But as I was talking to my friend, she told me that if she didn't get the job, it's fine because God has plans for her. She believes things happen for a reason, and I admire her for it. I admire her for her faith and her positive personality; her smiles brighten the room. It seems nothing gets her down even though I know she's gone through trying times.

I realized in that moment that this is why. I'm glad I went through the tedious interview process, even if I didn't get the job because I can offer advice to someone who does deserve the job, far more than I do. Someone I know will wholeheartedly kick-ass.

So disappointments, they may close doors, but maybe those doors weren't right for me. Perhaps it's a way for God to steer me to the opened doors that I am right for, doors that I want to enter and not because they're easy.

A good way to try to get fit is to get naked and really look at yourself in the mirror.

If that doesn't work, then jiggle.

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

Emily Dickinson

Sometimes when I'm reading, I feel this fluttering thing within me grow. I'm not sure how to describe it, perhaps it's my dissatisfaction with reality. Fleeting thoughts and images that are usually hidden in the recesses of my mind become suddenly apparent and solid.

I was reading about the strict enforcement of an immigration law in Alabama (HB56). Police officers can ask for anyone's legal status if they're suspects of crimes and schools can ask students about their origin of birth.

I'm pretty on the fence about immigration laws. I understand that it's unfair because legal citizens pay taxes, and have waited and gone through the whole application process, but in terms of human rights, it's despairing to read about all these immigrants who are deported back to their country.

If my family or I were illegal immigrants, I would hope with every ounce of my being that the government would take pity and grant me a chance to stay in America.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/10/06/opinion/granderson-palin-presidency/index.html

Food For Thought

Someone told me today that I'm just a big girl, "emphasis on girl". When I asked him how a girl becomes a woman, he said when she stops liking boys.

At first, I was offended, but I knew that he was right. I am just a girl. I haven't matured fully yet; I still have a lot to learn, especially in how to control my emotions. Maybe, I purposely like immature boys because I know I'm not ready to settle down yet, another one of many ways I sabotage myself.

CarrollBlog 9.29

We open doors,
close doors,
pass through doors,
and reach at the end of our only journey
no city,
no harbour-
the train derails,
the ship sinks
the plane crashes.
The map is drawn on ice.
But if I could
begin this journey all over again,
I would.

Nazim Hikmet

Stay Positive

Fresh apple cider and cheddar jalapeno cheetos. The end of a good day.

CarrollBlog 9.30

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.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

by Rosemarie Urquico

Something I need to continue to work on is my patience. I was never a patient person, whenever I wanted something, I'd want it immediately, but obviously that isn't how life works.

When I work with children, my patience is higher than it normally is (a surprise even to me). Of course, there are times where I feel like I have had enough, but I always try to reign in my sharp remarks because when I was little, I made plenty of mistakes that I didn't mean to do. So when I try to reprimand students now, I try to show them that I care about them and not simply just scold them.

I try to talk softer, telling them that they know better and that I don't anyone to get hurt. I tell them that they're good and that I know they mean well. And I think it's important to say that, to tell them that I know they're good kids because it shows I have faith in them. If you don't have faith in them, how will they have faith in themselves? They will take the role you readily set for them.

Yesterday, I was supervising older elementary school students and because I'm not normally around them, I felt out of place. There were new social issues that I was not used to handling and needed far more attention than I expected. Even though, they were older, they seemed more fragile than the younger kids because they know exactly what's happening in the world, whether it's on a social or mental level. I was surprised by how much angst they had, crying every half hour, complaining about everything but still managing to scream and run around as though they inhaled chocolate in every meal.

But when I spoke to them individually, they listened, really listened. When I spoke logically and meaningfully, they soaked in every word I said and afterward would try not to repeat the offense. I could see the remorse and guilt on their faces; they really do want to behave.

I don't know why, but it really made me proud of these kids that I've never met. I'm truly in awe by them. On the surface, any adult could become easily frustrated with their antics, but as I spent time with them, I could clearly see their qualities. They may not be honest all the time, but their facial expressions and actions don't lie. When they hurt someone's feeling, they try their best to apologize and comfort them. They have good intentions.

With that said, I need to try to be more patient with my 2nd graders and wait for their real characters to shine through. Instead of just thinking of them as kids, I need to view them as individuals that are slowly transforming into young adults.