Chemistry is beautiful

I admit it. Chemistry is incredible, and the closest thing to magic any of us have. Matter and energy and enthalpy and entropy and all that beautiful jazz that work together in a dance of system and surrounding and a big, expanding universe--chemistry.

I just suck at it. I really do.


And so, Katie, when I say, "You disgust me," I really mean, "I'm so jealous," because I'm still waiting on my letter from Hogwarts.

Sometimes, when I'm

walking somewhere, I just get the really strong urge to sing. Usually, I'm alone, though, so I have to refrain lest people think me crazy. 

No fun.

I don't know

what this means, or why I'm posting it here. But I feel like it.

Writing in the Lab as I Wait for the Gels I Screwed Up to Finish Solidifying

There are rats on top of the computer. Plastic
ones--gray and black, with their tails hanging over
onto the screen and reaching down into
all my words as I write them.

I squeezed one, and
I swear I could feel the
warm thump of its
chest in-between
my fingers as his lungs
opened and closed.

I've been instructed

to update my blog. I don't have anything to say, though.

I've been thinking about making this blog about the new things I learn everyday, since everyone learns new things everyday, right? Thoughts? That would probably get really boring really fast, just like that stupid 30-day challenge.

Things I learned today:

Cheerwine is not all that it's cracked up to be. 

I was making a 2 A.M. run to Kroger's with Katie (shout-out!) to stock up further on my precious Coca Colas, without which I would never be able to survive college. On my way to grabbing the 20-pack of Coke, I stumbled upon the 12-pack of Cheerwine, which I had good heard good things about and which had words like "unique" and "sparkling" written on it. Needless to say, I bought it along with a 12-pack of Coke.

When I got back to my dorm, I opened the box of Cheerwines immediately. I took out a can, saw that the tab was colored maroon, and was encouraged. It seemed to be living up to its "unique" reputation quite nicely. So I opened it, took a sip, and...was disappointed. Where was the sparkle that I had been promised and had so looked forward to? Was its uniqueness based off of its boringness? Why, in hindsight, was the tab even maroon?

So many questions.

So now I am sitting here listening to Andrea Bocelli and eating the hunk of salami I also purchased at Kroger's. This is probably why I'm still single.

"And I say,

nevertheless."

I love this poem by Jack Gilbert. It is beautiful and powerful, and it has a pulse.

I have to write a love poem tonight. Wish me luck.

A Stubborn Ode

All of it. The sane woman under the bed with the rat

that is licking off the peanut butter she puts on her

front teeth for him. The beggars of Calcutta blinding

their children while somewhere people are rich

and eating with famous friends and having running water

in their fine houses. Michiko is buried in Kamakura.

The tired farmers thresh barley all day under the feet

of donkeys amid the merciless power of the sun.

The beautiful women grow old, our hearts moderate.

All of us wane, knowing things could have been different.

When Gordon was released from the madhouse, he could

not find Hayden to say goodbye. As he left past

Hall Eight, he saw the face in a basement window,

tears running down the cheeks. And I say, nevertheless.

I'm taking a

break from this 30-day challenge thing. It hasn't been nearly as exciting as I thought it would be. And I didn't even think it would be exciting.

I'm supposed to write a love poem for poetry class, which is a problem, because I don't love anything. You can probably tell this from my lack of favorite anything. Well I love my family and friends, but that's pretty much it. This is an issue.

Maybe I should write a love poem to all the new Haslam finalists! Oh how I love them so.

http://honors.utk.edu/haslamscholars/Finalists/2011/2011finalists.html