5 Hours of Sleep and Lots of Coffee (Belated Friday Faves #3)

Yeah, I should probably call this post “Sunday Faves” for the sake of accuracy and all that.  But I feel like I had a good thing going with Friday Faves and the ensuing alliteration, and so the thing stays.

I should probably also explain about the title of this post, but it doesn’t make any sense because it’s true.  I would only choose such an odd and nonoriginal title if I was truly running on 5 hours of sleep, and, alas, this is the case.  The first week or so of school has been thoroughly dominated by BUCKETS of homework!  It’s only really because I’m taking all honors classes, and maybe there isn’t ACTUALLY that much work, but with my OCD perfectionistic tendencies, a simple 40-minute assignment can equate to days of slavery and stress.  MUST ACE ALL THE THINGS.  Unfortunately, last week didn’t really go well for me in terms of remembering assignments, performing well, and handing things in on time–let’s just say I was definitely feeling Friday the 13th a couple of days ago.  Ah, well.  Tis but a small matter.  And while my GPA might suck right now, I can certainly bolster it over the course of the semester–right??!!  At any rate, I’m looking forward to putting the snafu of last week behind me tomorrow as I embark on what surely will be a better 5-day stretch.

Hoo, you can tell I’m really tired.  That paragraph rambled and strayed considerably.  I was meaning to tell you that because of the massive amounts of homework (and my unfounded Doctor Who addiction that I cannot seem to shake and requires daily feeding), I’ve been operating on around 5 hours of sleep for the past few days, compensating with extra coffee in the mornings, and I feel like crap.  Definitely not making the healthiest decisions here.  My immune system took a hit as well, and, coupled with the new environment of 1800 kids and all the circulating germs, it’s only natural that I should be sick now.  Bleh.  My throat is scratchy and my tummy hurts, you guys.  Wish me tasty tea and restful sleep from here on out.

Thus far this has not been a very optimistic Friday Faves post.  Being sick is not my “fave”.  Onto the meat of the matter!

#1.  Spaghetti Bowl!  Ooh, look, I’m a big girl now!  On Friday I attended my first *official* HS football game with a group of gal pals, and, you know, we had to get into it.  Memorizing cheers, shouting ’til we were hoarse, decking ourselves out in all blue, blue face paint, the works.

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Although I have a feeling that you can tell from this awkward selfie that I was not totally sold on the face paint.  You can also tell that, as I constantly reiterate, I am REALLY BAD at the art of selfie and I have to go into PicMonkey and apply all these weird color effects to my face in order to feel okay about posting it here and that my nose is really oily and shiny  SPUNKALICIOUS and that my hair has absolutely no idea what it’s doing at any given moment but we shall not talk about these things.  (Something we shall also not talk about is the fact that the whole sexism and objectification thing of football and cheerleading bugs me.  I fear this post is not long enough to contain my feminist rantings.)

Right, then.  Focus on the face paint.  And my cute blue sweater, if you’d like.  Sweater season!  So excited.

While we’re on that subject…

#2.  The arrival of autumn!  At least before everything gets dreary and sludgey and rainy and the SAD-depression-stuff kicks in, early fall has got to be my absolute favorite time of the year.  Everything seems to slow, become just a bit more ponderous–nothing seems as frantic, or as frivolous.  Also, cute sweaters.  Also, herbal tea.  Also, orange leaves!  Also, PRETTY NATURE!  Also, PUMPKIN SPICE ALL THE THINGS!  Also, flu season!  😉 *cough cough, literally*  And there’s that whole not-sweating-when-you’re-just-sitting-still thing.  That’s nice.

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#3.  Being asked to perform poetry with the Washington State Poet Laureate.

(Doesn’t my elegant and poignant use of Doctor Who gifs serve to underline my mature and poetic nature?)

I received the inquiry from my old Language Arts teacher a few days ago (it’s not PC enough to call it “English” anymore), and this was basically my reaction.  People think I’m good at words!  Moreover, people think I’m good enough at words to sort-of-somewhat represent youth spoken word poetry alongside the State’s Great!

Reaction GIF: laugh, are you kidding me?, David Tennant

At first I was excited…majorly…and now there’s this crushing void of self-doubt inside me, knowing I’ll have to WRITE SOMETHING for the occasion and OH GOD WHAT IF I NEVER WRITE ANYTHING GOOD AGAIN and EVERYONE WILL HATE ME and OBVIOUSLY I AM NOT CUT OUT FOR THIS TYPE OF THING and WHAT IS THERE TO WRITE ABOUT MAN I CAN’T DO IT and WHY CAN’T I BE BRILLIANT AND SPEND MY ENTIRE DAY WATCHING DOCTOR WHO??

Lack of sleep may make me a bit dramatic, methinks.  Just a heads-up.

I have more things to say but I’m working on condensing my posts and posting more frequently.  That will probably be a good thing.  And you know what else is my favorite?  Sleep.  Sleep is very nice.  Never mind the fact that I wasn’t up and at ’em until 11 this morning, I think I’ll turn in for the night.  Hope your weekend was awesome and that you are able to recover from the dreaded influence of the last Friday the 13th!!

 

Solicited Advice to Prepubescent Nintendo Freaks

was is the title of the poem I performed last night.

Very casual venue; a public library, of all things.  So I got all dressed up in a slouchy Mario T-Shirt but, it has something to do with the poem!

The performance was recorded; not with the awesome camera of bloggity fame, but with a decidedly less high-resolution thingymabob–hopefully, this will not cause you to deign from watching it.

I love poetry, and I am quite very much nervous to post this on here–for some reason it feels much, much more nerve-wracking than just posting a written poem.  You finally get to hear my voice, and see me in my full gawky teenage splendor.  (Note:  I look SO TINY in this video!  And I sound it as well!  Know that I never seem this small in my head…)

Solicited Advice to Prepubescent Nintendo Freaks

Transcript:

You are turning ten

and I want you to know

I remember what that feels like.

We were about to move 988 miles westward

I started wearing deodorant and a training bra–

you won’t–

and the summer smelled like the pages of a manga book, and chlorine.

Mostly I was marveling over the fact that I was now

two

whole

hands.

I want you to know

that life is about to get

so much harder.

I want you to know that really the only way you’ll be able to have the vaguest idea where you’re headed

is by consulting your moral compass, and even that

is terribly indecisive sometimes.

Most times.

Life gets complicated, bro.

I want you to know this because no one ever told me

but I do not want it to sound like a warning because

look at the solar system, the veins on a leaf,

the pattern on the pad of your finger.

Complexity is beautiful.

 

 

And about those video games of yours–

They teach you

that anyone who attacks you

is a bad guy;

kill on sight.

They teach you that the number of points you earn

is based on the amount of blood you spill

the amount of lives you take

the amount of coins you gather and the amount of

destruction you leave in your wake.

They teach you that entertainment

will always be provided to you

in the form of high-definition graphics and an overdone plotline

They teach you that the princess needs saving,

the dragons need slaying,

the mushrooms need flattening

the galaxy needs traversing

the only life paths are scoundrels, scouts, and soldiers.

 

Maybe not by much, but

I’ve been around longer than them,  Easton,

let me tell you that

when you meet your Princess Peach–

don’t try to lock her in a tower,

the only reason she’ll ever need saving

is if you put her up there.

You are not Bowser;

you have an unfair advantage in terms of height but I trust you not to abuse your size

and your gender;

do not flatten kingdoms for the fun of seeing the Toads run screaming.

The world may give you points for that but I will not,

because I am your Rosalina,

I will watch over you always and I will not find it funny if my humble starship and my family of lumas

are the very ones that you are snatching stars away from.

My beacon will always burn bright for you

I will not always be there to see you but just look up,

I am that star–

the second to the right, yes, that

is the soft glow of my laptop as I type out a poem for you, surf the internet for memes that will make you smile.

 

 

I want you to know that this is special–

don’t you ever be in a hurry to grow up because it will always happen,

and you get nowhere if you try to pedal backwards,

believe me.

 

I want you to know that you will be a different person in the next few years

you will need something to define yourself by

but don’t be afraid to let that go–

the trouble with dictionaries is that they will try to define you in terms of other words,

when the language itself is not making sense

toss the whole thing out.

 

I want you to know that it’s a good thing my Language Arts teacher made me write this poem,

because I want you to know that there’s no way you’d hear half of this otherwise–

 

I want you to know that I will never tell you this but you

are special

I wait for the day when you will

become a Shooting Star,

when I will try to chase you down on my Wario Bike only to have to surrender with a quiet smile

Your life is ahead of you and you will laugh down it like the final lap of Rainbow Road.

I want to be there when I will flip away from my cooking shows and see you on the news,

and I will be so filled with pride I will need to call someone and tell them,

That’s my brother

only to find I’m halfway through dialing the number before I realize

it’s your own.

 

I want you to know

that I know

that you are probably squirming in your seat right now

but I hope you know

this is the first day of the rest of your life,

I will send you a copy of this poem from opposite sides of the country when you are in your twenties and

Peach has abandoned you.

Because Luigi is faithful like that.

I will send you a copy of this poem when you meet Daisy,

when you grow out of your boyhood once and for all

and still have the women swooning over your dimples–

it shall be excellent blackmail

 

I want you to know

yourself.

 

©2013 The Girl in the Orange