I HEART FRESHMEN!!!!

Wow, spending a year in a freshman dorm has been amazing so far, I absolutely adore them, they are so much fun. However, TONIGHT, I have witnessed something that tops all freshman activities of all year. I saw the first floor boys in their hallway, conducting a JOUSTING match with PIZZA BOXES and closet boards. Wow, they have reached a new level of honor in my book. Amazing. . . . . . .

American Idol

Oh, my word! What is right in this world anymore? Last week, the dreamy man Anwar was kicked off American Idol, I mean, how UNJUST! And now, it's Constantine who is gone! He was the one who was destined to win! America doesn't recognize talent when they see it! This is so sad! For those of you who are American Idol freaks, you can share in my grief, but for the rest of you in the world, yeah, I have a sad obsession with American Idol. . . . .alas, I live vicariously through bad reality shows. . . . .

Cuanto yo extrano el pais de primavera eterna. . . .

Today, I miss Guatemala so strangely. I woke up with the biggest craving for fresh tortillas, and I just wished that I could smell the "smells" of that place once again. I wish that I could wake up and see the volcanoes again, and walk through the park each morning, when it's still being cleaned from the night before, and the men are using big palm branches to sweep the sidewalks. I miss have pineapple every morning, like clockwork, and having real coffee to end breakfast. I miss getting on a crowded chicken bus, filled to bursting, and riding up into the mountains among all these people who think me to be quite strange. I miss speaking Spanish and hearing it wherever I walk. I miss going to the Market, and buying flowers for 20 cents a bundle. I miss the sounds of Antigua, the men yelling for the buses, the indigenous women peddling their small wares, and even just the rush of the fountain in the center of town. I miss seeing the colonial ruins every day, and pondering the amazing story that they must tell, if only I could see back in time, to when they were beautiful cathedrals. I miss having slower time, when life was about people and enjoying each other and just doing life together, rather than schedule and money and things and success. In Latin America, they have found a truth into life that we in America will never understand. . . . .but they truly know what it means to be about community, each other and just living life in the moment. They weren't intent on getting as much done as possible or getting ahead of the game or trying to be as successful as possible, but they just lived and were about each other, rather than their own individual stories. I feel lost among American culture sometimes (a lot of times), not for any huge reason in particular. . . . .but sometimes I wonder (and want to believe) that this is not how life was supposed to be. This individualistic, materialistic, instant gratification culture perhaps has a more marred identity than the Third World countries that know how to truly do community, enjoy life, dance, go slowly, and have real joy and truly be themselves. There's so much more that I have to discover, and today is just yet another day of pondering these things that I will never have an answer to. . . . . . . . . .

The Sound of Silence

This is such a pensive poem from Simon and Garfunkel:
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left it’s seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
’neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
Fools said i,
you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoedIn the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out it’s warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper’d in the sounds of silence.

The Pretender

This is one of my favorite songs, by Jackson Browne, it's a critique of American culture and "the American Dream."

I'm going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
Gonna pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
I'll go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
I'll get up and do it again
Amen.
Say it again
Amen.
I want to know what became of the changes
We waited for love to bring
Were they only the fitful dreams
Of some greater awakening?
I've been aware of the time going by
They say in the end it's the wink of an eye
When the morning light comes streaming in
You'll get up and do it again
Amen.
Caught between the longing for love
And the struggle for the legal tender
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender.
Where the veterans dream of the fight
Fast asleep at the traffic light
And the children solemnly wait
For the ice cream vendor
Out into the cool of the evening
Strolls the Pretender
He knows that all his hopes and dreams
Begin and end there
Ah the laughter of the lovers
As they run through the night
Leaving nothing for the others
But to choose off and fight
And tear at the world with all their might
While the ships bearing their dreams
Sail out of sight
I'm gonna find myself a girl
Who can show me what laughter means
And we'll fill in the missing colors
In each other's paint-by-number dreams
And then we'll put our dark glasses on
And we'll make love until our strength is gone
And when the morning light comes streaming in
We'll get up and do it again
Get it up again
I'm gonna be a happy idiot
And struggle for the legal tender
Where the ads take aim and lay their claim
To the heart and the soul of the spender
And believe in whatever may lie
In those things that money can buy
where true love could have been a contender
Are you there?
Say a prayer for the Pretender.
Who started out so young and strong
Only to surrender.
Say a prayer for the pretender
Are you there for the pretender?
Say a prayer for the pretender
Are you there for the pretender?
Are you prepared for the pretender?