if places were people no. 5

i never thought i'd see you as a person,

except now that i found you it makes sense:

you became the place we hated.

you formed as i slept,

so i woke to your enormous cancerous thought processes

and your hopeless breath

that blows as mercilessly as the wind.

i woke to you being a mountain,

and i dangled off one of your cliffs.

you rise steeply

from the endless plain floor.

not sunshine falling from heaven,

but rock wishing to rule above grass,

tough as meat and

those shard-like word ledges threaten from miles away

sharp collarbones and jawline and thin thighs

my intention was to never climb your type,

but i'm the only one close enough to try.

now, when you aren't slicing with your obsidian edges,

you're mixing in dirt, breeding infection, reveling in the primal.

hungry green eyes.

you're wild, snarling,

edging away at every flower,

the ones that do bloom are tiny and dull and only last a week or two,

and then your thin breath suffocates them.

seeds only last so long underneath your snow.

your endless winter,

and the longer i spend in you the more i realize

why no one lives

here anymore

your hands used to hold mine and now they

hold me in the sunshine, mocking, until my skin burns.

your skin is dirty and rough and darkening with every day spent so close to the sun

your eyes used to make my own light up,

and now i shiver away at your glance,

afraid of what it might mean.

every car going in the opposite direction seems to call my name,

and i want to go with, but

from where i sit i can see the gravestone that holds childhood memories

and if you will not guard in then

i will

although i think even the memories have crawled out and left

i don't think you even know where the graveyard is,

though it continually fills with your victims,

and you know it not.

you only know when i'm in the area,

your arrows made of steel and the knowledge of my weaknesses

seek out not my heart, but the

arteries pumping towards it.

you aim for my limbs, not

my organs.

you look for targets to maim,

not to kill.

you would hate to be a killer.

you would hate to be anything horrid,

anything blatantly wrong.

but you don't mind the label of desert.

or rock of a mountain.

you don't mind the fact that people climb you to die, not to live.

or that they only come visit you when you smile,

not when you snow your black snow, dark thoughts.

you don't mind that everyone calls you no-mans-land,

no-woman's-land

the forbidden and hated and avoided land.

you say you don't mind, anyway.

but it must be lonely.

it must be quiet.

and i know how you loved the music in the city squares.

how you loved it when people smiled at you

and i know it because you loved it before you changed,

and you say it's an act but i will be honest

i do not believe those words of yours.

i try to bring it to you, the music,

but it isn't the same without the crowds of dancers

and anyway,

your shale mountainsides cut my feet when i dance for you.

it must be trying,

having everyone hate the way flowers grow rarely

so i try to plant a garden,

but your winter comes to soon

for sprouts to push out of the ground.

it must be

so

terribly

hard

to be a mountain in a country

where everything dies.

and yet here i am,

sitting with you,

because so far i have always been a mountain person

and i am starting to think that i have changed,

and that maybe the ocean is more of my style

except i don't want to leave you.

not like this,

not when you've run out of victims so you're turning into one yourself.

not when i can see the structure of the mountain,

and the covering is starting to fall.

the skin is starting to sag and stretch and

you're getting thinner.

i don't want to leave that grave of childhood

the snows came early this year,

i think you crave the ice water more and more.

there was one day this winter when i couldn't make it to the grave.

when i went the next day,

your forced laugh of a wind had felled a tree

breaking the headstone.

i think i will catch one of those cars now,

because who knows when the snows will melt.

i think i will go to the ocean

to see if less thin air will bring clarity of mind.

i think space

between us will make your

visible ribs seem less knife-like.

maybe space will make me miss you.

maybe i will like the thin air when i come back.

maybe the flowers will grow more, if i'm not watching them.

maybe you will have a bouquet for me when i come back.

maybe you will not be so hated when i come back.

maybe it will be better

when i come back.

if i come back.

you stabbed me from behind, when

i turned to walk away today.

an ice shard through my thigh

so that when i do walk, it will be painful.

i can still walk.

but i don't know

when i will come back.

if

i will come back.

too many scars from your arrowheads will

make it harder to climb your

unscalable peak

if i come back.

YO ALL!!! i'm still alive. (seriously i keep saying that. why. maybe because i have multiple not-so-near-death  experiences so i SHOULD be dead.) (i was busy.) (and there was a lack of coffee.) (don't ask.)

SO YEAH. there's another super-downer for you. in my defense i TRIED to find something uplifting. what can i say. i listen to too much chopin to be an expressively happy person. OH WELL. 

xoxo

if places were people no. 4

   

your eyes are blue. 

as blue as the rest of you, 

ranting and raging and throwing your wave arms up in the air with every 

gust of teasing wind. 

you told me once

green was your favorite color.

i doubt it.

it's not just one blue. 

but layers. 

almost black-blue, like sleeping heavens 

and then the cerulean lighter Caribbean pools,

streaked with the almost white of ripped denim and 

the deceptive brownish of sea foam. 

your waves are uneven, 

and they ripple across the surface of the sand like your skin

ripples across you 

the dips and curves making tide pools 

for crabs and sea anemones to take refuge. 

most people don't like you 

"too chilly. can't swim there. 

and there's too much wind and rain."

i like you. that's my kind 

of weather - messy and dirty and sad and yet simple

with only sand and water to get in the way of itself - the way you let the mist 

lounge about, 

sauntering from tree to tree, street to street,

storefront to storefront,

enveloping, muffling the distant song of water's heartbeat,

and it makes my jacket and jeans damp with its heaviness.  

when i walk down to your shore you throw wind at me

thinking i'll walk back  to the house for warmer shoes and some hot chocolate. 

but that's the thing

you don't know me. 

i'm a mountain girl. 

mountain girls climb mountains just to find wind that carries new scent.

i face that wind, 

and i let the water make my feet go numb,

it's iciness is threatening but

i'm not afraid of you. 

beach length waves shove against each other, 

racing to reach my ankles

a bet against time

a wager for the pretty lady. 

i think of what the jovial nature hides - 

harshness and honesty. 

chasms. 

doldrums. 

hurricanes. 

shelter to the water beasts

raging against the coasts. 

the way you never stop - 

you're a constant of wave, water, depth, shallows, 

somehow you cover every aspect and the sheer 

immensity makes me feel small. 

i think of

the way man has wanted to tame you

and yet you have remained just as dangerous as before 

they tied some sticks together and tried

to cross you. 

"we'll win the pretty lady,

pretty lady come home in our tub"

but you pulled them down in maelstrom and reef 

sent an extra breath of wind to make the waves psychotic

carved graves out of the feasting table

that sharks so often watch.

and yet how like man you are, 

those long waves equalling strong shoulders, 

bringing the wind and blocking it at the same time, 

gritty hands pulling at my feet, digging sand around,

kissing locks of my hair, mingling my blonde strands with your sandy ones,

light and bleached from salt and sun

and then kissing my lips with

your salty ones. scratching

my check with the bit of stubble, grit at the top of 

your cheekbone, sharp.

i can't tell if it's a scar that's yet to heal from 

the tiff with that shark last week

or if it's because you never shave when 

you're supposed to. 

you leave gifts on the shoreline:

seaweed, driftwood, pretty stones and shells 

and even the occasional sea star or jelly fish. 

some days you bring me sea foam in your hands, but 

it spills over, all over the bland sand and makes me laugh 

when it flies in your face. 

the perpetual lullaby, 

murmuring sweet things in a language i do not understand,

shhshh shhshh,

others say be careful. 

that you're dangerous. 

that i shouldn't swim too deep. 

you'll pull me away from them. 

i think of our differences. 

me climbing heights and you diving depths. 

both breathing oxygen but yours is in water and mine is in air

and i imagine your sandy hands pulling at my feet again, 

deeper, love, deeper, let me show you something beautiful. 

and how you love to tease the seagulls. 

i think of how you send me sunsets and 

i think of the way i found the mountain looking at the stream instead of at me

and i think of how i'm tired of air, 

and i'm tired of the brown and green of mountains and the mocking 

humhumhum

of the wind in the ponderosas 

you send a salty kiss my way 

and pull me deeper beneath your waves and i can see the 

sand dollar cities and 

a wall of sea stars and 

families of fish 

and a shark says hello

and how the water feels different in my lungs and 

how it feels different in my hair,

and I see the danger 

and I see your anger

but I also see the way you smile 

at me and i think i like your little gifts and the shades

of blue in your eyes. 

i think i like your lullaby 

and your allure

and the way you send me winds filled with new smells 

i like the way your hands are not big enough to hold the sea foam and how

you're wild, but you're mine. 

NOTE TO SELF: the sticky notes series

i am feeling SO overwhelmed.

i love to blog. really really really love to blog. i would do this all day every day if i could make a living off it.

unfortunately i can't.

so - i'm cutting down. you may have noticed already that i'm not posting as much as i have been. (october was kind of a post overload...so aside from that.) i want my blogging to be real - not just something i pump out every once in a while because i feel like i should keep this up.

i want to post the highlights. the stuff that sticks.
old stuff that i love, new things i think are awesome.

things i would change, things i love and hate at the same time.

i would love to have red hair.
i fail at bible time but its a new years resolution to remedy that.
as much as it tries to kill me, i want to start running.
and i want to look at the good things.
i want to learn the little things and remember them.

i therefore introduce to you:

i will be doing two series at the same time. Note to Self as they come, and then If Places Were People every other week.

Note to Self  will be the little lessons that i learn that i don't want to forget. these lessons are actually written in my horrid handwriting on my bedroom walls, but i want to share them with you.

because somedays we just need little sticky notes that say it's gonna be okay.

I may not post as much. but hopefully these posts will be less of me blabbering and more of
look what i learned today! what do you think? 

plus - you know - these are probably gonna be on canva things so AWESOMENESS.

stay tuned, lovelies.

DAY 30: October Favorites

how to you say THIS IS MY FAVORITE.

(lol. it's called fangirling.)

October is OCTOBER. how can it not be a favorite?



it involves leggings and hot coffee instead of the iced we get in summertime. it means more blankets on your bed and awaking groggily to find that the sun is not up yet at 8:30.

October means its okay to spend an afternoon inside reading a book. because in the summertime that's apparently not okay. it also means new kittens because we need more mouse murderers.

it means that hunting season is here so Dad is gone for 10 days and every weekend until Thanksgiving. but when he comes back he smells faintly of woodsmoke and gunpowder and leather and if we're lucky, the iron-tinted odor of blood. (which is gross, but not actually that gross when you're used to it.)

it means that its okay to make pumpkin spiced EVERYTHING. it means its okay to turn on the heater. it means its okay to say 'ITS SO COLD' and your co-workers don't laugh at you.

it means comfort, and family, and giddiness because the leaves on the sidewalk crunch.

it means when you find that friend that absolutely LOVES red leaves that have landed on the round and she's SO HAPPY to have some to throw up into the air and you get a photo like this:

it means taking seven million pictures in the morning when the sun is just coming through the leaves on the trees and you're on the front porch taking them in your pajamas and bare feet and your toes almost freeze off.

its October. how can it not be a favorite? its the last hurrah before winter. its the last sprint, the last adrenaline rush, the last leaf as it falls from the tree.

Days 9 and 13: my favorite part of fall and a menagerie of photos to boot...

Autumn. I love it. I don’t love it the way some people love summer or winter or spring, loving it because it gives me nicer weather or skiing or vacations. I love it because it makes me giddy. I love it when the leaves skitter down the sidewalk like scared cats and the trees chuckle their response, tossing down more deceased foliage for amusement. I love the slight breezes and the way the cold crisp mornings smell clean. I hate the way summer comes back in the afternoons, too hot for the leggings and sweaters that I so desperately adore. I crumple up happily at the odor of musty leaves and sigh deeply when the bitter, tantalized odor of coffee wafts into my nose…the same nose that I bury deeply between scarves and aviators.

I love the way autumn sinks into winter, the black hole of seasons. Foliage turns from green to must to yellow to red to brown and then disappears altogether under white snow. The warm summer days get nippy in the mornings, then that cold begins to stretch long fingers deeper under the skin of the day, until I can wear my jacket when I walk to my car after work, and then eventually I need a coat because let’s be honest, forty-five degrees is just too cold for only a sweater.

I love the ache that comes with the anticipation. The waiting for that day when you finally realize its only forty-four days until Thanksgiving (which is, according to the Sami Calendar, National FOOD Day) and only sixty days until my birthday and only seventy three days until Christmas (which is Second National FOOD Day).  This gets me thinking about Christmas shopping, and I’ll let you in on a little secret: the best Christmas shopping is done in autumn. Creative juices aren’t so frozen then, prices are just a little lower, and everything is a bit more open as far as gift options go. Yes, the anticipation for these days and then after that, spring.

I love autumn because it is the calm before the storm, the beauty before destruction. It is the gray hairs among the black, the silver strands. It is the sunset before the night. The happy ending before the next adventure. It is the fuel before the long journey. The midnight snack because heaven knows that we wouldn’t make it to the morning without that fridge-light-flooded search for something to put us back to sleep. It is the reward because we’ve made it this far through the year.

I love autumn because it is the beginning of the trail that leads to my self. It is alluring, calling to me: fall into me. Fall into autumn’s embrace, which will be enveloped by winter, which will be buried in cold and then from this death spring will arise and there will be new life. I love autumn because I relate to it. It says get rid of the unneeded, for a new journey begins. Dwell not too long in one mindset, but seek newness and freshness always, learning from the past and pressing forward into the future to try out newly acquired knowledge. Be new, be rewarded, be you.

This is why I love this season. It falls into autumn into December into me.

10 summer foods...a la favori

Source

I'm a foodie. These are my top ten favorite summer foods.
Okay, enough said.
LET'S EAT.

1. Watermelon. I'm fairly certain I could live off of watermelon.
2. Grilled Chicken. *ahem* My father makes THE. BEST. GRILLED. CHICKEN. EVER.
3. Iced Tea. not sweet iced tea (although I have had that and DANG it's good) but my mother's honey-bush sun tea, loose-leaf and slow-steeped. it's lovely.
4. Tomatoes. particularly the orange tiny ones from the garden.
5. Zucchini. You will hate me for this one. But really, I LOVE zucchini: it's really versatile: very simple and yummy just by itself, but can also be used in other more complex dishes. not to mention we have a ton of it growing out of our garden so we really have to like it.
6. Granola, applesauce, and milk. it's like cereal. I always used to put applesauce in my cereal. And now that we can't have cereal...we use granola.
7. Cheese. Guys - GUYS: Yogurt Cheese. They actually make it out of yogurt. It's softer than regular cheese, and I've tried the garlic-and-herb and the vegetable versions. both are simply amazing.
8. S'mores. (seriously, is it even summer without them?) And these are a feat, because until about a month ago we didn't think we could get s'mores or graham crackers without gluten in them. BUT WE CAN... so, salute to s'mores.
9. Coke Life. because it's soda that lex and I can drink. and BONUS it comes in glass bottles so YAY we get to look cool.
10. PB2. It's peanut butter, but dried, so just add water. it's amazing. enough said. 

Food...what would life be without it? Plus, you know, Jesus liked food too. (John 21:5) I feel justified in my obsession. To learn more about my said obsession, check out my other blog (which is posted on at my leisure...*ahem* as in, whenever i feel like it.) here :D. Now go eat summer food!

stop and look

I was thinking about how when my family is on vacation, or visiting friends that we don't see often, or doing something unusual, we tend to slow down. Little things are funnier, we do stupid stuff and get a kick out of it...we SLOW DOWN.

And then we get back from the vacation and everyone gets back into their bazillion-mile-an-hour routine.
We start creating invalid excuses, such as "I'm too busy", "I will finish this first", or "I'm too tired".

The thing is, we have to stop and look. If we don't we miss the little things.

For example: my older sister was 12 weeks pregnant with her second baby, had sever morning sickness, her 20-month-old baby girl loves to yank chains, and her lab-cross puppy loves to chew.

My older sister was craving bagels.

I had bagels.

I could have said "I need to go home and do homework, practice piano, do laundry, read the passage for Bible Study tonight, blah, blah, blah..." 
But when I texted her telling her of the bagels, and she got excited, which never happens when she isn't feeling good, what could I do?
So off to big sister's I went. Later, she told me that my niece was running around the house yelling "Nam! Nam!", which is little Jo's nickname for me.

I could have made excuses. I could have tried to get something done on my never-ending to-do list.
Instead, though, I did something for someone else. I slowed down, and breathed and enjoyed my sister and brother-in-law and niece for an hour and was completely blessed. Sometimes we have to stop and look.

Because if we don't, we miss out on the precious, priceless things that life hides from our overview glances. We miss the things that don't come into focus right away. We have to look for some things. And if we don't, we never see them.

So, these pictures - most of them, I took them thinking "These are going to be cow-pie pictures because of __________". (And the careless part of me took the picture anyway...) Fortunately, I was wrong! They turned out just fine... :D Enjoy!

Kona was on my lap when I took this...I didn't think it was going to turn out, because this lens doesn't zoom out AT ALL. But it worked! And turned out very nice, if I do say so myself... ;)

You know, for this picture being taken from the car, it turned out pretty good...

What can I say? I'm a messy cook ...I thought the spilled popcorn kernels looked pretty...

A glorious Montana view, just for you!

it's a phase...

While I am really appreciative of you all for being incredibly patient with this amateur (VERY amateur) blogger who will just talk and talk and talk and talk and talk about really NOTHING significant...I would like you to know that every once in a while I DO sit down and connect all the dots.

Here's what this blog is really about.

First of all, the blog address: the journey of here
Originally, this was going to be a blog just about journeys and where they take us and where mine was taking me. But...you can only talk so much about journeys and only make so many correlations between random things and journeys and life.
So, the address stayed the same but the title didn't. It changed promptly (or semi-promptly, since I have yet to do anything PROMPTLY) to "She Laughs".
Because 90% of the time (...okay, FINE. More than that...) I take me little self WAY to seriously. I think I'm in control (which is hilarious, by the way).
Proverbs 21:25 says that "...she can laugh at the days to come..." I really like that. Its an amazing reminder that we are not in control. God is. And if we have Him, then we don't need to worry about ANYTHING. Which is why we can laugh! Dude, I mean, those people that don't have Him...they have to worry about EVERYTHING. Our viewpoint (with Jesus) essentially is this: "I did the best I could. If that is not enough then I guess I'm not meant to go in that direction!"

This blog is about journeys (mine specifically, since most people wouldn't let me write about theirs...) not taking things to seriously, and, well...me.

I had this English professor that challenged his students to start and keep a blog. He described it as an online journal. A place to record thoughts in one easily-accessible place, and those thoughts were somewhat coherent and connected. That is basically what this blog is: this is my online journal.
People say not to be apologetic about what you do...BUT...

I am going to be completely and 100% apologetic about this blog. Because it's mostly going to be me ranting. (There will be bad days, I promise.) (And I'll try to give fair warning...Actually, this is your fair warning. So continue to read this blog at your own will and risk.)


This blog...it's me on a page. I will try to be as open as possible. I will try to not bore you with too many badly taken photographs. I will try to be uplifting. I will try to move forward; I will try not to beat the proverbial dead horse. I will try to post consistently and semi-frequently.
I'm trying, here. I am trying to live my life as one that is glorifying to God. And I'm gonna have to vent about it somewhere. (The internet sounded like the perfect place...) ;)
This blog is about me, and journeys, and laughing even on the days when you really just want to hit someone with a chair.
This is my blog. I hope you enjoy it!

December is my thankful month:

Normally, posts like this one come mid-November. You know, “I’m thankful for…” because Thanksgiving is coming and that’s what you DO at Thanksgiving: you GIVE THANKS. (And eat. You eat too.)

However, my time clock for getting things done runs about 22.67 days after everyone else’s. So, technically this post is on time, for me.

Also, December is my thankful month. I have the reminder from Thanksgiving to be thankful, my birthday, Christmas, and New Years (which makes me think about everything that happened that year), all within 45 days. I have a LOT to be thankful for.

Of course, I’m thankful for bunches more than what has appeared below. But these are the ones that have stood out to me in the last 24 hours. (And the ones that I had pictures of.)

 ---

The fog outside: I honestly cannot remember the last time we had fog in December. I bet the photographers are having a field day. (Like me! Although I’m lazy about my field days. This was taken from my porch, in my pajamas.)

This girl: my sis, one of my few best friends. (The heck with having one; that makes things complicated. I have two! J) She’s just generally awesome!

My dog: you know that song by Carrie Underwood? “…the more boys I meet, the more I love my dog…”?? It’s a lot like that.

My little niece, and her mom and dad…(the goofballs). Joelle thinks the ceiling fan is pretty cool.

The mountains: every time we go somewhere flat, I think of the mountains. I always feel unprotected and exposed without them.

My mom and dad: I have no idea how they do it, being parents to the terrors Lexy and I are. ;) They really deserve that trip to Mexico.

My piano: Since I have recently discovered that I actually begin experiencing withdrawals without playing it.

Oh, and Christmas. I’M VERY THANKFUL FOR CHRISTMAS. Especially when I think about the real reason we have the presents and the food (the FOOD!), and the lights and decorations, and the MUSIC! These things are all great, but they wouldn’t be anything without the baby in the manger. And that just makes me warm and fuzzy all over.

Have a happy Christmas season!