| check it out--
it's new blog time!
good-bye my lovely xanga.
-nicole
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| i just accidentally ate some ants.
little ones, probably 3 of them.
they were on my pop-tart
but i didn't realize it right away.
i was quite tempted to get massively grossed out
but i kept reminding myself of the fact that
bugs end up in a lot of the food we consume
and this is no different.
but i still feel a little nauseous.
*shudder*
-nicole |
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| i came thisclose to getting two baby ducks today.
unfortunately my sometimes anti-social phone habits
prevented this from happening.
my roommate called this evening but i couldn't
get to my phone in time so i thought i'd see if he
left a message and check it rather than call him back right away.
he didn't leave a message so i didn't call him back.
sometimes i'm lazy like that.
later i found out that the reason he was calling
was that two newborn ducks were abandoned
by their mother outside his office and he thought
i'd enjoy raising them until they were ready to fly away.
heck yeah i'd like that!
but since i didn't call him back someone else got the babies.
i guess that's what i get for ignoring my roommate.
-nicole
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| i've decided that i'd like a night biking friend.
after the sun goes down and takes with it
the heat, the cars, the noise
i often want to get on my bicycle
and enjoy the peace of the late evening.
empty streets and bike paths lit only by the moon
and the faint glow of a sleeping city.
maybe i've seen one too many scary movies
or maybe my mother taught me well
but i cannot bring myself to go.
-nicole |
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| this is one of my favorite poems.
i've mentioned this poem on here before but it's been awhile.
a dear friend discovered it, copied it onto a piece of paper
and mailed it to me. mind you, we live in the same city and
see each other often but she understands how necessary
it is to find a real letter from a friend in your mailbox
every now and then.
The Summer Day
by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? -nicole
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