Elusive Ink

Currently Listening
If Everyone Cared
Nickelback

Currently Listening
Strangers
The Kinks



Today has been spectacular, despite stress, for a myriad of reasons.
More tomorrow...but to conclude today...

Running.

-Lindsey

Currently Listening
More Than a Feeling
Boston



I have decided to make a list, because that is what all truly experienced procrastinators do when they are avoiding dismally unpleasant work. Plus, I figured if I posted it here, it'd feel more like an accomplishment when I could say it was done. (I also have the illusion of accountability.)

Things To Do Before Sunday
• World Lit Final
• Two Biology Lab Reports
(Yes, still. They just seem like such a waste of time.)
• Kafka Essay
• Mariama Bâ Essay
• Borges Essay
• DaDa Poetry Essay
• Achebe Essay
• Return 1 Client Email
• Make Haircut Appointment

That's all for now.

More later.
-Lindsey

Currently Listening
The Good Shepherd
Michael Giacchino
Lost Season 3 (Original TV Soundtrack)


What more can I say?

Finals are the bane of any student's existence. A time for coffee, and catching up with people you haven't talked to in six years. The time of the year that you find motivation to accomplish every single thing that's been sitting on your to-do list for the past year and a half, and play with flair on Facebook before studying.

Pray for me as I head into the mound of books and papers that are sure to haunt my weekend.

-Lindsey

Currently Listening
Ordinary People
John Legend



...to the right column of the page.

If you scroll down a bit, I've added a featured Movie/Music space. I've already added June's since I'll be really busy with the move and wrapping up school. But from now on, I hope to update it at least once a month, with a review. Then I'll link to the post with the review, in the right hand side.

Not because I think my opinions or tastes are superior to anyone elses, but because I love sharing new movie/music finds, I get incredibly excited when I find a new artist or film that blows me away. :-)

Just fyi.

-Lindsey

Currently Listening
This Time Tomorrow
The Kinks
The Darjeeling Limited (Original Soundtrack)


Have I mentioned recently that Leesburg is amazing? I was looking over the website to the Tally Ho theater in Leesburg this morning, and noticed (to my glee) that they have classic themed movie nights, and improv comedy. (Pretty In Pink has to come up at some point, right?) They also rent the theater out for events, which could be a pretty amazing party, right? If you look at the pictures on the website, there's so much character.

I'm quickly discovering that Leesburg is where my heart is. It is the perfect city, hands down. I can honestly see myself being content in Leesburg/NoVA for the rest of my life. Can you be in love with a city? I am...I get that same excited and giddy feeling when I think about going to see it.

As I was discussing with Mom the other day, travel is quickly losing it's appeal. Of course, I still adore cultural experiences, and traveling. But the thought of living somewhere, well...foreign, constantly, for long periods of time. Not so much. We'll see where life takes me.

After looking over the Tally Ho theater's website earlier, I noticed their mention of showing "The Rocky Horror Picture Show"as part of their Worst Movies Ever Made theme for the month of June. I'd heard of it, but had no idea what it was about...IMDb to the rescue. I'm always up for new experiences, especially movies. I love movies...something about the experience of watching a movie (good or bad) that you've never seen, just really appeals to me. Plus, I'm a huge fan of campy eighties movies, and creepy movies in general. (Carrie, anyone?)

Despite all of this, even the (spoiler-containing) synopsis of this "cult classic" made my stomach turn. I think there's a part of me that has a slight, sick curiosity - but not enough of one that would ever entice me to waste my time with a film like that.

Speaking of bad films...a more recent stinker I've had the unfortunate opportunity to watch, "The Mist" was undoubtedly the worst movie I've ever seen. I'm a huge Stephen King fan, at least as far as the screenplays/movies go. (I've only read a few books: Cell, The Eye of the Dragon) Carrie, Misery, The Stand, Secret Window...all purely amazing. So when reading the synopsis of the Mist, I expected your generic (superb) creepy Stephen King movie, with a redeeming quality at the end. I was quite disappointed, to sit through the entire movie...and feel completely hollowed out by the end. The movie wreaks of utter hopelessness, and needless gore. Thanks, Hollywood...next time I'll re-rent Carrie.

I have decided to start a list of "Must See At Some Point" movies...and am looking for contributions. Most are classics that, I know I should have seen, but for some reason just...haven't. Of course there's also some recent movies that I've yet to see.

The List So Far:

The Life Aquatic
The Royal Tennenbaums
Sweeny Todd
Speed Racer
Iron Man
Edward Scissorhands
Friday the Thirteenth
The Way We Were
Casablanca
Across the Universe
Pulp Fiction
The Phantom of the Opera
The Thing

Some of those Movies may seem to be odd selections, of course I hope it's obvious from the list that I'm honestly open to...anything. The most recent addition to the list is Friday the Thirteenth, after a rousing conversation with my parents about slasher films. It's apparently a sub-genre that is required for any true film buff. Of course, I'm an 80's kid at heart, anyway.

Speaking of the Eighties...it's all I can do right now not to renew my leg warmer fascination. I've always been the type of person to make odd fashion statements...and these are almost too good to pass up. I'm contemplating whether I should buy them or not. Those leg warmers just scream my name...and picturing them with my red SoHo heels? Must...resist...

Revisiting the title (which I've not touched on at all, yet.) The Darjeeling Limited is possibly one of the best films in existence. It is, by far, my absolute favorite. It's one of those movies that could have a positive effect on anyone, if watched at precisely the right time in life. The premise of the movie is a spiritual journey of three brothers. It's very representative, of the emotional roller coasters we face through everyday life, the symbolism of the train, the search for answers and human connections. Acceptance, spirituality, family, and resolution all play major themes in this monumental piece of cinema.

The Darjeeling Limited is actually the name of the train that the brother's ride on during their journey. There are times they run to catch up with the train and jump on, other times they're kicked off, intentional stops, and existing on the journey. I see a lot of parallels with life in these different events, and was discussing this with a friend of mine last night.

I was feeling, very hopeless and static. Living in Monotony. I said, I'm somewhere between Holly Golightly (very confused, alone, and doing all the wrong things to find fulfillment...running away from the journey.) and the Darjeeling Limited. He said, that he could see me going places. He knew that this wasn't permanent, or even for much longer. This was the "running" part.

Soon, I hope to catch up with the train.

Mom keeps saying..."Seventeen days." I know she must've already said it at least a dozen times today. I honestly hope that's true. In fact, I am resolved to make it true. I will not allow myself to stay confined, after the move to Leesburg.

My lengthy conversation with said friend, resulted in a lot of thought. I relayed that I'd been feeling, inadequate, unworthy of friendship or really any good thing. I knew it was a ridiculous feeling, yet despite all reason...that's how I felt. I told him, how I felt lonely, despite seeking God, despite trying to reach out and enjoy my family. I did all of the things you're "supposed" to do to feel fulfilled. Yet, I'm not.

Spiritual fulfillment is supposed to be enough, right? God's supposed to be able to quench any needs.

I don't remember exactly what he said that resulted in epiphany for me, but I just started realizing...that as much as spiritual fulfillment can satiate any need, that doesn't mean it necessarily will. There's not a magic bible verse, or prayer, or devotional that will suddenly make me less lonely. Sometimes (often) for growth as human beings, we're provided with opportunities. We're given a restlessness, and a goal to pursue. It's up to us to remain static, or reach out and conquer. We're given accomplishable trials and a drive to achieve them. Some more than others.

I'm not a static or monotonous person. I don't think I could ever be content in a static and unchanging lifestyle. I had been beating myself up with guilt over being discontent; but I've realized now, that I just need to use that discontentment as motivation to explore my horizons and take every new opportunity that presents itself.

I intend to do so.

Now...I have slipcovers to go look at. I suppose I've rambled long enough, anyway.

More later.
-Lindsey

Currently Watching
Q2
Voyager: Season Seven



Nothing like Fruit Loops (and my FREE Indiana Jones light-up adventure spoon.) and Star Trek to brighten up an otherwise dismal evening.

I'm SO going to Starbucks to study and have breakfast tomorrow. I need a change of scenery.

Okay. Bed calls...or, more Star Trek. Or maybe poetry writing. I'm the COOLEST Trekkie Poet ever. (No, not really.)

Good Night, my friends.
-Lindsey

Currently Listening
I Try
Macy Gray



So...I've decided to number my "Random Notes" in roman numerals. The difference between my random notes, and the other various blog posts is that they tend to be shorter and have...no point.

A few years ago, at breakfast with one of my heroes, Michael Westmore he related a story about how he numbered the trill-spots on Terry Farell, for every episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, with roman numerals. Eventually they got to a point where they would have to look them up every morning. So, just under the collar of her uniform, hides the number of times he'd painted them up until that point. He said a lot of people had asked if he had some sort of pattern or stencil for Dax's trill-spots, and he was proud to say that they were hand painted for every episode.

That morning, Michael Westmore told me he saw a lot of talent, and to continue to pursue my passions in the arts. That's why, when I decided to number my random notes, I chose to do so with roman numerals. To remind myself, when I'm feeling hopeless, or discouraged...to always pursue my passions.

I'm having sort of a bad day, as far as self esteem goes. Not sure why. I just...feel...worthless.

On another train of thought...I've finally found a piece of African Literature I like...Mariama Bâ's "So Long a Letter." I'm not finished, but I'm enjoying it greatly so far. :-)

This passage in particular struck me, for a myriad of reasons.

"If over the years, and passing through the realities of life, dreams die, I still keep intact my memories, the salt of remembrance.

I conjur you up. The past is reborn, along with its procession of emotions. I close my eyes. Ebb and die of feeling: heat and dazzlement, the woodfires, the sharp green mango, bitten into turns, a delicacy in our greedy mouths. I close my eyes.
Ebb and tide of images drops of sweat beading your mother's ochre-coloured face as she emerges from the kitchen; the procession of young wet girls chattering on their way back from the springs.

We walked the same paths from adolescence to maturity,
where the past begets the present." (So Long a Letter, Mariama Bâ)

That's all for now...I'm sure I'll think of more to ramble on about later.

P.S. Twitter is amazing.

Currently Listening
The Call
Regina Spektor



So...I went to bed at 10 (again) last night; and was up bright-eyed at 7:30. Well! Relatively bright-eyed!

In contrast to waking up yesterday morning to an Inbox flooded with LOST Soundtrack songs, I woke this morning to find one song. One unread email. I made myself crazy for about twenty minutes trying to figure out if it meant something, and finally resolved that it didn't matter. Either, it did...and it would be clear eventually, or it didn't and there was no point in stressing myself.

I got on with my day. Not an easy thing to do, I admit.

Two bagels, a webpage redesign, and half a novel later...I'm sitting here wondering why I'm about to fall asleep. I had such high ambition for my day, and now it's nearly 5:00. How did this happen?!

Can I blame it on the overcast weather? I think I will.

The only remotely productive thing I've done today is finish a (few) poem(s) *cough* and work on Cognoscenti, and Genevieve. Look for new chapters of each in the next day or two.

Well...no, I take that back, I've almost finished an entire novel and have actually half-finished an essay on Kafka's Metamorphosis. (Yes, the essay that was due a month and a half ago.) So I suppose that counts as having been decently productive. I'd really hoped to finish a couple of dissection labs for Biology, although I have absolutely no motivation to do so. Blech.

I love blogging.

More Later.

Grow
By Lindsey Ann Bledsoe

Don’t forget your child eyes.
The ones that let you see through lies.
Piercing through the grown-up hurt.
Seeing all the good, and worth.

Don’t forget to play pretend.
Let your imagination bend.
Run wild, and remember things.
Forget that people don’t have wings.

When rainbow band-aids make your day,
And no one’s ever in your way.
You don’t mind when your wallet’s bare.
You just enjoy the velcro there.

Bubble wrap brings pure delight.
Only monsters haunt the night.
Muddy clothes irk all but you.
Don’t forget to tie your shoes.

The problems all feel bigger now.
Simplicity seems dull, somehow.
A cardboard box is Monday’s trash.
A lightning bolt is just a flash.

Everything is analyzed.
Shrouded in our complex lies.
It’s not as if we try our best,
To disappoint. To attract stress.

That’s all there is to say I guess.
There’s no excuse.

Currently Listening
Tonight, Tonight
Genesis (Phil Collins)



Things I should be doing:
• Essay Writing
• Packing Boxes
• Returning Client Emails
• Making Appointments
• 2 Final Biology Labs
• Studying for WL Final
• Signing up for Driver's Ed
• Reading (So Long a Letter, Cry the Beloved Country)

And probably half a dozen other things.

What I'm actually doing: Writing (Not Essays.) and eating brie strata. By the way...brie strata is amazing. It's up there with Sushi on my "favorite foods" list.

Ahhhg...maybe I will call and at least make one of the appointments, the fun one. I'm going redhead.

Oh, and I am getting so excited about seeing Fluff in a few weeks (29 days) it should be epic. I've been going through some old pictures of us over the past...11 (?) years (Holy crap, we're getting old.) and I must say, we've had some wild times. Maybe I'll post some of the photos later. ;-)

-Lindsey

The next few days were quiet. I made a concentrated effort to be courteous to my siblings, and spend time with my parents and the few friends I was close to. The hours were filled with questions, anticipation, and heartfelt hugs and tears. Overall, those three days were the most peaceful in my recollection. Although it could be because those three days so strongly contrasted what happened next.

Three days later, I found myself in my bedroom packing a few belongings I prized most into a small black duffel bag. Family pictures, special books, my camera and laptop. I heard cars pass outside the window, and each caused my stomach to churn with dread. As anxious and excited as I’d become…I wished that Barak would not arrive.

I walked into my parents bedroom, sitting on the bed next to my Mom and remember all the times I’d sat there…watching movies, discussing life, high and low points. I honestly couldn’t have predicted how I’d miss my parents. (How many eighteen year olds can?)

The doorbell rang.

“Someone’s at the doooorrrr…” sang my youngest sister running down the stairs.
He was right on time. I walked to the door and answered hesitantly. Suddenly, I became seven years old…with my Mother and Grandmother coaching me on how to answer the door appropriately. Insecure and fearful of what and who might await me on the other side.

“Are you ready?” he asked me. I couldn’t restrain a laugh at his cliché, yet strangely applicable question.

“Yes.”

I scuffed my feet into the carpet nervously, and hugged each of my family members avoiding eye contact. I smiled as I walked out onto the porch and closed the door behind me. In a state of surrendered daze, I walked down the stairs onto the long driveway, with my duffel bag slung over my shoulder. It seemed so metaphorical…so symbolic, which I thought was just coincidence. Barak followed closely behind me, waving back to my family looking out the window. I got into the car and nodded a last goodbye to my monotonous, safe, comfortable life.

The car pulled out of the driveway and I was suddenly overcome with this heavy apathy. We sat silently for at least an hour before Barak finally spoke to me.

“Are you afraid?”

“Yes.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I should.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Good.” He said, leaning into the steering wheel as we turned a sharp corner. Irritated at his response, I sniped at him, “You know it might be polite of you to prove to me that I could trust you, since I seem to have left all of the people I trust back in that house.” He smiled (almost sadly) and patted my hand which only served to anger me further. I would like to be able to say that the remainder of the trip was uneventful, but to that I cannot attest. I only have one other memory of that particular drive.

Barak sighed and pulled to the edge of the tree-lined road.

“Now.” He paused, “things will begin to get confusing. You’re very nice, and trustworthy. But I’m going to have to ask you to trust that I’m like you and have your best intention at heart.”

“How is that confusing?”

He leaned over me and opened the glove compartment, taking out a small silver box. “The center I’m taking you to is hidden. We’re not allowed to let anyone see the road or landmarks.” He removed a sharp syringe from the box. “I’m going to make you go to sleep. When you wake, I have to ask that you remember not to say a thing until you see me, or someone with this emblem on their shirt.” He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket with a little round logo, with the letters TWK on them.

I felt his hand wrap around mine, and tried to snatch mine away. He held it firmly, “Please, Honor, don’t fight me.” I gave in, and extended my arm. I felt a sharp pain and clenched my other hand into a fist. I laid my head back against the seat and began to feel very dizzy…the air around me felt dense, and my neck ached when I moved. I closed my eyes and felt a palm against the edge of my hair, fingertips through my soft curls. “Thank you.” I heard a whisper as the car was started back. The last thing I recall from that ride was the sound of Barak humming. The song was familiar, but I hadn’t the lucidity to place it at the time.

Currently Listening
Baby, It's Fact
Hellogoodbye



I was having a phone conversation with my friend Jared yesterday, and I (as usual) was musing on one of my frequently pondered subjects: Friendship. Rather, I was complaining that I didn't have anyone to hang out with around here. I said "I'm just terrible at meeting people." Jared's response was something to the affect of an incredulous, "No, you're terrible at approaching people. You meet people all the time. Every time you stand within the same vicinity of someone, you've met them." (This is paraphrased so, sorry Jared.)

At the time I think I just sort of said "Yeah" and pushed the conversation on. But I've been thinking about it...and he's right. We meet people every day, all the time. So why is it so difficult to get up the courage to say "Hi."?

I watched the cutest movie with my siblings yesterday, "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium," I was happily surprised that it was actually tolerable. Moreover, I really empathized with one of the main characters, Eric. The cutest little friendless eccentric 9-year-old kid, with a massive hat collection. During the course of the movie, his mother makes him promise to try and make friends. He decides to befriend the accountant that is working at his favorite toystore, (not exactly who his mother had in mind, I think.) and there is a scene where he stands on one side of the glass with a legal pad and writes. "Hi." and holds it up to the glass. They carry on an entire conversation like that. I realized...how safe it must've felt. I think that's what the internet does for me. It's safe, because you're making friends but not really...having to approach someone.

I guess...something I'm working on...I'm sure I'll have more on this topic later on.

-Lindsey

Currently Listening:
Extra Ordinary
Better Than Ezra

Well, I've had an incredibly busy few weeks, and absolutely no chance to blog until now. (Or talk to anyone...I've barely had time to breathe.) Of course, if you follow my blog you'll see I've been posting what has been occupying the free time I do have. I'm not sure why exactly I've had the compulsion to write poetry lately, but I suppose there are worse compulsions.

I'm not sure how many people read this blog, and of those (few) people, who will remember my old (and relatively popular) Xanga blog? The first ever blog post was an affectionate, and lengthy post about my favorite pair of shoes. What can I say? They were amazing shoes. I still have those shoes...although I don't really wear them anymore.

While I've gained a reputation for being the sort of girl who doesn't talk about shoes, I'm going to break that perception a little to post a picture of my new favorite shoes.

Beautiful, aye? I've been waiting for these shoes for...months.

Triumph.

Moving on...I have the most amazing dance partner on the face of the planet. My sister, Molly. How could anyone not just light up inside after seeing her giggling hysterically? Plus, she is just as happy dancing to Frank Sinatra, as she is White snake. My kind of girl. I know I get stressed out often, but even on the most stressful of days she is just a joy to be around and watch grow.

Oh! So (rapidly changing subjects here) I was standing in the kitchen last night, looking dismally upon a sinkful of dishes from lunch, and dinner the night before. Where had the dishes come from? I did the dishes the night before...and yet, they continue to multiply exponentially. They wouldn't bother me so much, if others in the house would actually make an effort to not let the dishes pile up. In addition to the piles of silverware and plates, there's always a baking sheet or two. This is a note to anyone who ever dares to cook in my kitchen: Foil your pans, if you value your life. How difficult is it, to throw a piece of foil over a pan? And it saves someone else twenty minutes of scrubbing off baked-on cheese, or steak grease later on.

Seriously people, is this only common sense to me?

More later.
-Lindsey

I wrote this for a friend of mine's Graduation present, about a month ago.

Strive
By Lindsey Ann Bledsoe

Today is an amazing day.
Your new life, finally here to stay.
You face the gates, with head held high.
You're sort of nervous, not sure why.

Gold ink, etched into your palm.
A handshake with chaotic calm.
You take a step, and sort of smirk.
The large gold man, says "get to work."

I'm here, I watch you move along.
I'm jealous that you seem so strong.
Yet, you've always been there for me,
and here for you I'll always be.

Don't be afraid, or get too stressed.
Remember, sometimes life's a mess.
Take pictures, laugh, and dance alone.
Forget the times you lost, or won.

It’s not important anymore.

“Dig deeper.”

Do you hear?
Constant whispers in your ear.
Murmuring throughout the night.
Just don’t even try to fight.

They latch onto your ears and neck.
Until your sanity is wrecked.

Eventually, it all works out.
No more failure, no more doubt.
Or, so they say. That’s what I hear.
I guess I’ve not quite gotten there.

So, all the wisdom I can share.
Is this: remember that I care.
Appreciate the joys today.
And never, ever lose your faith.

Anonymity
By Lindsey Ann Bledsoe


I'm not who I thought I was,
and I'm not who I wanted to be.
But now, thanks to you,
I am realizing that there's
hope for myself being me.

I don't need who I thought I did,
and I thought I needed no one.
But I've discovered I might need you,
when all is said and done.

I still smile...and rhyme okay.
But dissonance can still remain.

Broken discord, rules my brain.
I'm pretty sure that I'm insane.

A sickness infects one and all.
I travel, slowly, through the wall.
Translucence shrouds me, so they say.
But how did I end up this way?

They watch. In horror and amusement.

Can you imagine sheetrock through your veins?
He pulls me through, I still remain.
Please send me someone, as I pray.

Don't pity me!
Never mistake my silence for apathy.
Don't tell me what my God cannot do.
That, my friend, is always up to you.

Endless chatter doesn't mean I care.
But for you, my pet...I'm always there.

You tolerate my recalcitrance.
On what is just a fleeting chance.

I watch your eyes dart, there, and there.
I see your soul behind the glare.
Sometimes, I think it might be true.
At other times, unfair to you.

I want to know. To reconcile.
Why can't I even see a mile?

Resolution isn't there.
My painted hands will still look bare.
Give me closure, or a light.
Take away each restless night.

Corners, hills, rehearsals, strife.
Hard things are the meat of life.

I need a clear direction now.
I can't just trust, I don't know how.

No! Stop. Don't tell me that.
I'm sick of always falling flat.

An open spirit has a chance.
I need to close my eyes and dance.
Just run away and watch my eyes.
I don't change much, through passing time.

This was written with a few specific people in mind, and as a general message to all of my peers who may be struggling right now (like me) to take a leap into a new stage of life. College, adulthood, summer...

Sometimes, moving on in life feels like a suicide mission. But there comes a time, when standing there is no longer an option. You can't go backwards, you can't crawl back through windows to the past. Move on. Take a leap of faith. Fear is a powerful motivator.

Threshold
By Lindsey Ann Bledsoe

Here you are.
On the edge.
On your toes.
On the ledge.

Looking out on the world.
Slightly scared, toes are curled.

Watch the cars pass below.
Feel the wind, and the snow.
Don't climb in, cannot slip.
Don't you see your eyes are lit?

I see.

I wonder, if you know.

I cling to your sleeve.
Independence is mine.
Please don't leave.
You'll be fine.

It's time to leap.
Don't crawl back in.
The window's closed.
They've latched the pin.

Below is life.
Below is death.
Below is strife.
Now, take a breath.

Thrash
By Lindsey Ann Bledsoe

Paint stains in a room with no paint
Dissonant hurt. Elusive pain.
Joy bubbling out from over the seams.
Seams...sea...ceases...seems...

Nothing is what it seems.

Nothing is tame.

Shrouded and clouded in shame there is a touch of black and white.
Gerald sneaks in the window at night.
Faceless. Bound by primary scarves.
Slipping against the shallow, glittering dark.

They whisper about their shiny new things,
While the wailing, howling speakers sing.
So many thoughts tornado my brain.
Nouns become adjectives. Am I insane?

I space the lines, and watch the times.

I shudder, and the teapot whines.

A sickening thought pervades my soul.

Cacophony.

Hope.

I've broken things.

A vase? No.

I've broken important things, and the crazy man sits quietly watching.

He watches me and stares through my perfect hair.

Rubber soles squeak, and I see it as purple.
Things shouldn't be red...black and white, black and white.
Am I thinking? Always. Quite.

He stands and cymbals in my face.
I send him off to join the race.
Unprotected in cyberspace.

An appreciation unmatched by all.

I sit here. Very, very small.

Holy cow, it feels like I've lived three days in one.

After a very emotional night last night; of laughing and crying and resolution...and then having to face the results of that this morning, in the midst of an endless sea of mishaps. (From being woken up by a helicopter whooshing back and forth over our house, to having fifteen minutes warning that our house was going to be shown...thirty minutes before we had to leave for the airport...)

We finally made our way to the airport, which was an experience within itself. We managed to pack all of our suitcases (3. Plus Mom's laptop case, and mine) onto the "Smart carte" very precariously and make our way from the parking garage to the baggage claim. With Mom and I both shouldering carry on bags, and Mom pushing our massive stroller, with a very curiously squealy Molly. Standing at the baggage claim was miserable, and security (with a stroller, two laptops, two purses, shoes, and a baby...) was...10 minutes of hell. We took the shuttle to the B concourse and walked down to B50, with both Mom and I feeling, emotional and miserable...for different reasons. So, we went and bought a huge box of See's assorted chocolates for ourselves. Our plane was late...and we sat at the gate, which was...horrible. I kept recalling the last time I'd sat at that gate, and all the memories connected with the airport, the smell and hugs. Just, too overwhelming, especially after the night I'd had, and the lack of sleep.

The day turned for the better after boarding, though. Boarding went very smoothly, and we were the only ones on the plane with a seat between us, so we were able to spread out a little and be comfortable. (Go Molly for being a baby! Letting us be antisocial!) I caught a 15 minute nap while we sat on the tarmack, and was able to sort of purge some depressing thoughts and have a little spiritual cleansing. Something about the liftoff of the flight was...significant. Not sure why.
Mom and I then decided, after the cruddy day we'd had, we deserved a boost, so we binged on chocolate and monster energy drinks...which resulted in lots of hyper and random conversation. Mostly by me. Mom compared me to the hyper squirrel from "Over the Hedge."


Once we landed things were very smooth, the cab driver was nice and helpful. I was surprised to find that Mom had never been in a cab, so she and Molly shared their first cab ride! So exciting. The rain smelled nice, just lightly sprinkling...and the gas prices here are RIDICULOUS. $4.20 a gallon for regular. I thought Mom was going to die when she saw the signs. Horrid.

The bell boy who helped us out of the car was delightful, we learned his life story in the course of ten minutes we were waiting for Mom to check in. Grandma met us in the lobby, we were so excited to see her! The completion of our motley crue.



Once in the room, we ordered WAY too much room service (ended up with two huge containers of calamari) and have talked for the past...wow like six hours now. With ups, and downs, and remembering things and people...and looking forward to the future. I think we've all been struggling lately, with being dissatisfied where we are, because of what always seems to be just around the corner. We're always waiting for things to get better...and not appreciating the little joys in today.

As Grandma so aptly put it:

"Like life's a rehearsal for something...someday...that will never happen."

That's what I feel like, a lot. I'm always waiting on an event, or a person, or a change, or a phone call, or an email. What causes me to be so restless?

Now I lay here in the silence. The rest in the room are asleep...and the city reverberates outside. I adore the city...I consider myself a very urban person, and thrive in this sort of environment. Looking out on Chicago at night, wondering what's to come, and exploring what is. Hoping for things...and for some things never to happen.

I have a feeling...this trip...the short hiatus from life...is an adventure, and may turn out to be a spiritual journey. Lots of thinking to do, and of one thing I'm certain. I will be changed, when I go back home. "Time for some lifestyle changes, kiddo." says the grandfather clock that lives in my head.

Where's life going from here? More tomorrow, and more pictures...some are still on my camera.

Ciao, my friends.
-Lindsey Ann Bledsoe

Currently Listening
Just The Way You Are
Billy Joel



What a week...things continually turn upside down. I'm not sure what I've said here about our recent location situation. (Woo. Rhyme already. This is gonna be a good post. :P) We were informed that we had seven weeks to find a new house, and move out...or renew our lease for an entire year, a few weeks ago. We'd been intending to rent at this house month-to-month until we found the "perfect" house, but our Landlord would have none of that. So, we immediately started looking for a new house...three days later, we found it. The perfect house, in the perfect area. Less than a mile in one direction, is a regional forest with campgrounds, hiking trails, and battlefields. Another direction, historic Leesburg which is FULL of quirky little bohemian galleries, bookstores, and photography studios. *long happy sigh* About a mile in another direction is Khols, Super Target, Starbucks, Restaurants, and a HUGE outlet mall. (With Gap, Converse...Hershey's ice cream.) And, also within walking/biking distance is a really great Rec center, with everything from tennis, to swimming, to racquetball, to cooking classes and summer camps. Pretty much the ideal location. The house itself is tri-level, each of the kids (with the exception of Zoe/Sophie) will have their own bedroom, there's hardwood floors, and a Hot Tub!!! My new room isn't particularly large...but I can't see myself living with my parents for much longer than 2 years at this point...maybe not even that long. We'll see how finances go.

_ _ _ _

One of my favorite shows (as of recently) is As Time Goes By. It's an amazingly well-written BBC show, centered around five main characters. Judi Dench, and Geoffery Palmer star as Jean and Lionel, who had been passionately in love during the war, and then meet up forty years later...after having lost touch because of one lost letter. It follows their renewed love, in middle age, and the mishaps and drama of life living with Judi (Jean's Daughter), Sandy (Jean's Assistant), and the ever-faithful Alastair Deacon (Lionel's publisher, Judi's beau, and an all around "glam" rich playboy.) The only show that could possibly contend with As Time Goes By is the other most amazing TV show on the planet...Frasier. They have very little in common, aside from the fact that they're both clever, well-written, and there is not a bad episode of either.

My parents have recently gotten the entire series on DVD and we've been watching through them (we're almost to the end...*sadface*) and have just related so much to the basic human truths revealed in the show. It's so funny and quirky, and yet...also so true, and the relationship between Jean and Lionel is so genuine in it's simplicity.

Definitely a show worth checking out.


We were watching earlier tonight; and there was an episode where Lionel walks in (accidentally) on Sandy bathing. While, at first Jean and Sandy sort of chuckle about it...as Jean starts to think about it, she begins to get jealous and insecure. Mom made a comment about how, it made sense that she'd be jealous and insecure...Sandy is at least 20 years younger, probably closer to thirty, and very pretty. Dad responds with "That doesn't make sense, it's ridiculous for Jean to be feeling that way."

Which brings me to my point of this very long introduction...

Women compare. Men compete.

It's something I've been realizing more and more lately. It's not necessarily always older women, comparing themselves to younger. Heavier girls compare themselves to thin girls, thin girls are jealous of curvy girls...sometimes our insecurities are due to distance, sometimes education, sometimes emotional proximity...but there's always insecurities.

More on this later...since I've not really found a solution yet...just part of the problem. :P
_ _ _ _

My wonderful Grandmother called last night and told me to turn on HGTV...and upon doing so...there on our beautiful huge high definition screen, was the city of my dreams: Buenos Aires. Not only the city of my dreams, but the barrio (neighborhood) that I shall someday live in: Recoleta.

I've been staring at pictures of Argentina for years...and Recoleta specifically. With european-influenced architecture, and a quiet atmosphere...Recoleta still manages to maintain the character and culture of Argentina. The show followed a man, moving from a huge mansion in Michigan, to Argentina. He ended up trying to decide between three apartments. Two in Recoleta, and one just outside Recoleta. I was absolutely abhorrent that he chose the apartment OUTSIDE Recoleta. The apartment he chose was in shambles, a "fixer-upper" and he settled on it because...despite the fact that the other two apartments were...beautiful. (One needed a few repairs, the other was...perfect.) they didn't have a "view."

I cannot imagine making a decision as to where to live on solely the view. His repairs to the apartment he chose were amazing, however, I still would've chosen the ones in Recoleta.

I cannot wait to have the finances to be able to travel...study art, culture, and tango in Argentina. Cost-of-living there is amazingly reasonable, too...for very nice condos, furnished with wifi; HDTVs, etc. etc. etc.



Beautiful, isn't it? Well...for now I suppose I continue to lustfully stare at pictures and share my crazy dreams of travel until I'm finally provided with the opportunity to pick up and go.
_ _ _ _

My last point of excitment before I head off to bed...

CHICAGO! We leave Wednesday night to meet Grandma in Chicago for a few days, do a little sightseeing/shopping while Mom's at a conference, and enjoy some quality time in the evenings. I'm so very excited for this trip, and will be updating (with lots of photography) the entire time we're there.

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I had more that I wanted to write about...but I really should be getting to bed. More tomorrow!

Buenos Noches

Just a quick design project I did yesterday; I'll probably have a new personal blog post up this afternoon; and Part 1 of 2 of a short story I'm working on revising.

-Lindsey