The Merry Christmas Equilalent to Happy Holidays...

This was borrowed from another blog that I read with some regularity, and it's just a great preface to this entry for today:

(09-08) 04:00 PDT Fresno --

Fresno County authorities have arrested a man they say broke into the home
of two farmworkers, rubbed one with spices and whacked the other with a
sausage before fleeing.
Fresno County sheriff's Lt. Ian Burrimond says the suspect, 22-year-old
Antonio Vasquez of Fresno, was found hiding in a nearby field wearing only
a T-shirt, boxer shorts and socks.
The victims told deputies they awoke Saturday morning to the stranger
applying spices to one of them and striking the other with an 8-inch
sausage.
Burrimond said money allegedly stolen in the burglary was recovered. The
sausage was tossed away by the fleeing suspect and eaten by a dog.

Oh god, you guys. A man broke into a house in his pajamas and RUBBED A FARMWORKER DOWN WITH SPICES. This story is pure gold. It kind of makes me happy to be alive.

Not that I have any idea how being rubbed with spices and beat with a sausage compares with how I spent my last couple of weeks, but fecking comedy gold.

Why I can't fill in everything that's happened since my last post (hello...totaled my car???) I can talk about the last couple of days.

Christmas. It was, you know? It came and went as it does every year, and I end up feeling like I've been hit by a truck. This year more than ever because, well, I hit a truck literally, and a car. You know, wreck. Yeah, it all keeps coming back to that. My hand hurts like hell. My foot is all whacked out. My pinkie looks like half a hot dog wiener.

But I want to make a list of all the good things that have happened.

1) On Christmas Eve, on the way home from Iva, 97.1 (if I have to listen to the radio, this is my station) played some great songs all the way home. They played "Roxanne" by the Police, "In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel...and no commercials all the way home. It was nice.

2) Although no one bought me the "Once" DVD for Christmas, and that was what I wanted most this year, I found it on sale at Rainbow Records. I used Christmas money to get it and came home and watched it immediately. It would only be better if I could get someone to actually watch it with me now. I want to share this.

3) Clothes sales. Bras and panties...the other thing I asked for and didn't get for Christmas, went on sale online at two of my favorite stores, so I have 4 bras and 6 cute pairs of panties on their way to me via UPS. Cute usually means uncomfortable, so it will be a bonus if they're not only adorable on my ass, but actually cover everything and not ride up the crotch. Likewise, if the bras don't pinch, shiny! Also, I got a kick-ass pair of Hello Kitty socks.

4) Maybe I should have made this #1, but I finally (FINALLY!!) got to watch Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog and it was AHHHHMAZING. Nathan Fillion has my heart forever. I would get rubbed with spices and beat with a sausage for five minutes with this man.

5) I got a pair of Uggs. Yes, I was the Ugg naysayer. Ugly, I said. Who would wear those? the answer is me, and their fecking comfortable.

6)Sleep is ranking high on the list, even though sometimes I can do it and other times, I can't. Like now. However, the tritophan-induced nap I took this afternoon was brilliant. And when I sleep, I have these incredibly real dreams. They make very little sense and sometimes freak me out a little bit (the reappearing Viagra dream?? the girl showing up Christmas morning dressed as a superhero with a Zorro mask??).

7) Videogames have been a highlight. We've played the Wii (and as I will probably say again, I am the Wii American Idol Grand Champion), although I've been more of a Wii spectator, and I've killed at Buzz Trivia on the Playstation.

8) I've had a lot of time to read, and so I've gotten into some good books. I read Rob Sheffield's "Love Is A Mix-Tape" which was excellent. I've also started Kevin Smith's book, "My Boring-Life" but I have to read it in small doses (bathroom, natch). I bought A.J. Jacobs book, "The Year of Living Biblically." I've also gotten a little farther in "Wicked." May begin the Stackhouse series soon (from the writer of "True Blood."

9) Free downloaded songs. I've hit the jackpot lately on some really good free downloads. I've gotten some Pavement, Swell Season, TV On the Radio, the Frames, and then some new bands I'm not that familiar with. When I start driving again (fingers crossed), I'll have some great tunes downloaded.

10) Food. Holidays are yummy.

Honorable Mention:

Kanye's songs: "Heartless" and "Love Lockdown." I LIKED the SNL performance, so screw you everyone else who said it sucked. I thought it was great.

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

I have had some of the best friends. I've shared moments with some of these friends that I think could go down in the friendship hall of fame, if there were such. I remember having some illness, and two friends making me a basket filled with chick flicks, chocolates, and magazines. That's stellar. I also had a friend who knew I was selling my couch to make extra money, so he gave me $50 more than what I was asking for it. So why am I even bringing this up? Because we're no longer friends. The two who made me the basket, well, we had a "falling out" several years ago and I have no idea where my couch savior even lives these days. My middle school friends are gone, my high school friends are spread out, my college friends moved to Pete only knows, and my grad school friends didn't leave a forwarding address. I think people are just meant to be a part of your life as stepping stones, but I hate that.

But what kind of friend am I? I have friends call that I don't call back, and I'm notorious for canceling plans. Maybe it's my fault. I'm selfish. It’s interesting how you can be so close with a person for so long and then in one instance not even know who they are.

I did not wake up this way this morning. I felt great today. I was in a good mood. I got enough sleep. This afternoon, I just got bummed out. Now I'm eating a frozen pizza (planned on cooking dinner) and might even be asleep before any of my TV shows come on.

At least it's already Wednesday.

Good News For People Who Love Bad News...

Was that the name of Modest Mouse's album? I can't quite remember. I have it on the shelf somewhere, but I am much too tired to go look.

Well, it was a week! One of the highs from the week: I finally got my students' blog set up and they are really posting on it. I am so proud of them. They are helping each other while reading "Mythology" which really is a hard book. I remember struggling through that book in college, and these are children! Is that the only high from the week? Well, I did get to come home a couple of days straight from work: no other stops along the way. That's always good, but rare.

The lows of the week...wow. I have a few of those. One is a certain change in dynamic. A friendship pricked by ignorance, but not just the ignorance of others. I really think I set myself up for these things. I think I dig holes right in front of my feet and then look up surprised when I fall right in, as if I had some other expectation when I put one foot in front of the other. And man have I had years of practice!

My current aggravation is that I can't find a song I have a sudden hankering to listen to: Ani Difranco's "Napoleon" --because someone was talking about playing Risk, the game, and said they were quite the little Napoleon.

I haven't added song lyrics in a bit now, so I think I will.

*********************************************************
Song: "For the Girl"
Artist: The Fratellis

Well she said I know but I just can't tell
Everything you've just been saying
Lucy was there as well in the dark
The kids in the band were playing

No-one can hear a word or tell
What the girl was singing
See she must've been 16 or 18
I'm just past caring

She was into the Stones when
I was into the Roses
She was breaking my bones when
I was bursting their noses
She would tell me a secret
I would lose it the next day
Young love pleases you easy
Makes you sick in a bad way

And all the while the girls sang
La la la la and she sang
Kickings for my sweetheart
Bruises that I just don't miss

And she said "I can't love you anymore than this!"

La la la la la la la...............
La la la la la la la...............

Aw she said she said no no no no
Then again yes why don't you kill me
He asked him why you messed up right there
Sweetheart you know that don't thrill me
Said I would've been there for if you had been a little bit nicer
I was dead by Sunday half dead scared just trying to please her

She getting the pills when
I was into her best friend
She was chasing the thrills
And living down at the West End
she was pretty in braces
I lived under her window
She said take me to London
Tell me something I don't know

And all the while the girls sang
La la la la she sang
Kickings for my sweetheart
Bruises that I just don't miss

And she said "I can't love you anymore than this!"

La la la la la.....
La la la la la.....
La la la la la.....

She was into the Stones when
I was into the Roses
She was breaking my bones when
I was bursting their noses
She would tell me a secret
I would lose it the next day
Young love pleases you easy
Makes you sick in a bad way
And all the while the girls sang
La la la la she sang
Kickings for my sweetheart
Bruises that I just don't miss

And she said I don't like you
You can't stand me
I can't love you anymore than this

A MOMENT OF MY MIND. A DAY IN THE LIFE, SO THEY SAY

I've been seriously absent here, as of late. I think I forgot this space existed, and I've been back to blogging only in my mind.
I haven't been away for lack of words to say. My stories have been spinning and shooting through my skin lately, but i have let my busy life and my need to keep some of me inside, keep me silent. I'm never good with silence, though. Those who know me best only know that's the very thin edge of the truth. Me? Quiet? With nothing to say? I always need to share myself. I constantly write letters, think in diary entries, imagine novels and movies--all in my head.

As a teenager it would have been a different world if I had had the internet as a source of communication.

October is my favorite month. Fall. I hope to see good things on my little October horizon.

Song Lyrics**************

I wouldn't want you to want
To be wanted by me
I wouldn't want you to worry
You'd be drowned within my sea

I only wanted to be wonderful
And wonderful is true
In truth I only really wanted
To be wanted by you

Just Verifying a Widget

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Teacher Under Fire

Indiana teacher suspended for using "Freedom Writers" in the classroom? That book is one of the MOST motivational pieces out there to show at-risk kids how important education is, and how rich their lives can be. This is such a blatant example of administrators forgetting what its like in the classroom and not having the sense God gave a milk cow to reach underpriviliged youth! This fires me up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope that people everywhere reach out to this teacher in support and get it through to those who are against her that kids use worse language in CHURCH than that book uses.

Writing Is All About Sitting At the Typewriter and Splitting Open a Vein

Today is the last classroom day of the Summer Institute. This experience has afforded me a new toolbox from which to draw upon when teaching writing. While I love writing, writing is difficult to teach to others, especially reluctant writers and students who struggle with the classroom experience. One of the things I’ve been saying since I became a teacher is that there has to be a way to get students more involved in the classroom, and the demos that I’ve seen have certainly afforded me that opportunity! We have a brilliant group of Teaching Consultants. I feel very fortunate to have met everyone.

I also think that I now feel more confident as part of a larger structure, i.e. my school. As a new teacher, you look at all the experience around you and you feel like you are such a small cog in a larger mechanism...as if you can’t put forth what the others around you do. Now, I feel like my contribution is important and vital and just because someone has ten years on me doesn’t make them a better teacher. Learning and experiencing things like this make you a better teacher.


Before the SI, I’ve been made to feel guilty when I wanted time to write. I was made to feel as if it wasn’t important in the grand scheme…with work, kids, housework, being a wife…. When I would sit down to write, I was “playing.” This has really opened up a new flood gate, and I am going to discipline myself to write every day.

I am so fortunate to have met Linda, Inga, Jessica, Kevin, Lisas G. and S., Shannon, Sarah, Becky, Shasta, Erika, Travis, Michelle, Lacey, Paula, Rebecca, Annette, Dawn, Kim, Cheryl, Connie, and all the rest!

Left Behind

Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts? Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts. So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess. And we are so fragile, And our cracking bones make noise,And we are just,Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys. -- Ingrid Michaelson, "Breakable"



It's time. I'm ready to sleep late, watch "Dawson's Creek" reruns, and bum afternoons at my neighbor's pool. I no longer want to think about reflections, anthologies, portfolios, and demonstrations. Stick a fork in me. I'm damaged goods, returned to sender, on clearance. I've been put out to roost, stuck on a raft bound for glory, and pushing up the daisies. There's no room there for me... I've been behind the curtain and I'm certainly not in Kansas anymore. One of the main things I wanted to do through SI is to get a vehicle for presenting. I wanted to share and participate. Represent. I guess I did my job here, and there is no more openings for me. Push off the mortal coil and sing with the choir, invisible. I'm done. See ya later, alligator. The wind is out of my sails.

Triskadekophobia

The thirteenth blog...

Typically I would be unaware of such numerical drivel, but today, it just started off bad and drove along that same interstate the rest of the day.

I awoke late, at 7:22 a.m. (I have to meet Kevin at 7:50). I jumped in the shower, missed my usual breakfast, and ran out the door without my CD of photos for our movie at 7:51. Coffee was spilling and I smushed a cream-cheese slathered bagel right on my boob.

Then the chair. UGH! That chair noise! I was just watching a tv show last night about a girl who made a "rude noise" in her chair and was talked about all over school. And mine was even on video! Poor Paula...sorry!

However, the day is now over and Kevin hates it when I am late getting to my car. My head is pounding, and I think it's unrelated to UWP. I'm not sure. If it weren't for Inga, I think I'd hide underneath my bed!

Writing Does Matter, Dang It!!

The thing that struck me the most today is the book, "Because Writing Matters." As a participant in the jigsaw reading Chapter 6, I got really riled up about administrators taking responsibility, and taking initiative in creating successful writing programs. The book mentions a principal who had his teachers write at the beginning of faculty meetings. That's powerful! He (or she) was focused on creating community in his school, and to think of that as a basis for a writing program is astounding! Amazing! Yes, there are teachers who would throw one more hissy fit, but heck, what do teachers NOT throw hissy fits about. There mere fact that faculty meetings exist throw teachers into states of despair. I'm just really worked up about this concept. Teachers being the leaders and administrators being willing to support them in a writing endeavor, parents...PARENTS! coming in for writing nights, where they get to write, too. That just whips me up into an excited frenzy at the thought! I'm buzzing! What an electric idea!! I just wish someone would listen to me at my school.

Yes, the other parts of today were good, too, but this reading is all that wants to occupy my brain right now. I need to plan, plan, plan for next year starting yesterday with all of these good ideas floating around my cerebral cortex. Why can't this course be a whole semester? Teachers should be required to come to UWP. Principals should be required! AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

The Greenville Marathon

Whew! What a day!

My creative juices weren't as juicy today. I liked what I wrote at the museum but I had a real decline after that, mentally. I started feeling a bit out of sorts yesterday afternoon and I wasn't completely in my best form today either. I did really enjoy our group piece, and how it turned out in "performance." The whole Coffee Underground experience was my favorite of the whole day. It's an excellent venue. I want to go back for poetry open mic on Sundays. The Falls Park is astounding. I've never been back there before and had no idea it was so beautiful. We're planning on going back with the kids tomorrow. There's going to be a storyteller at the ampitheater.

So I'm ready to sign up for whatever's next. I don't want this to end.

Demo Done!

What a relief! The demo has been done. I am surprised at how well it went, and the feedback has been helpful. This has been a very positive experience.

I now have pieces on the e-Anthology under Open Mic and A Day In the Life. I do want to do some more writing before putting the portfolio together. Is that selfish? I want to do some new writing!

The best part of today was deciding that we should meet to discuss how we can further our education. I have been thinking a lot about what's next and this gives me an arena to really consider it in more depth. I want that doctorate! I didn't think I'd start on it this early, but you know, why not?? Dr. Terri. I like the sound of that.

2008: A Writing Odyssey....

In the scorching hot summer of 2008, I and 22 others began our quest. Meeting everyday, intensely striving to become better teachers, the Upstate Writing Project generated enough brain power to keep an entire city block electric. As a sort of Summer Camp for Teachers, we leave our homes with our brown-bag lunches, water bottles, and laptops ready for a week of nose-to-the-grindstone hard work inside the Univeristy Center, and we're rewarded with fun field trips outside on Friday, where the bugs don't bite and the hot sun doesn't singe our skin.

Our writing calluses grow along with our brains. New friendships, some lifelong, are forged. Writing is critiqued. Personalities are tolerated. Laptops are beaten, sometimes wounded, by heavy fingers.

We join Google Groups, we blog on Blogspot, we respond on e-Anthology, we email our classmates in confusion! We make movies, we make presentations, we make the world a better place to live. We are the Upstate Writing Project. Here us ROAR!!!!!!!!

Did the Punk Rockers Remember The Triscuits?

“It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party.”--Nick Hornby

We are all a lot of different records in this class. There's some classical, some country, some rocking tunes, and something that sounds like it's from "Brigadoon." And the thing is, there are certain songs that can get along with one another, or play pretty for a short time, but they wouldn't gravitate at a dinner party. Throwing Muses could never share chips and dip with Michael Bolton, for instance. No, Throwing Muses would just point and laugh...Michael Bolton probably double dips. And who the heck invited John Tesh???

MovieMaker is pretty awesome, but damn tedious, too. It's hard to pile all of these different tech proficiency levels and expect order. Those who are very proficient revolt, those mildly proficient wander in and out, and those who still struggle are squelching, "what? Do that again! J---AAAAAAAAAA---SONNNNNNNNN!" Poor Jason.

The demos were outstanding and made the day go by fast. I was surprised when it was time for lunch. The time is ticking on my own demo. I'm just ready to do it. It is what it is, at this point.

This is a great program, though. I love this. Can you only do the SI once? I mean, what if we want to come back?? What's next? I don't want this to end....

Skinny Legs and All

One of the books I love the most is "Skinny Legs and All" by Tom Robbins. The character, Can O'Beans says, "Every time they substitute an all-purpose, sloppy slang for the words that would actually describe an emotion or a situation, it lowers their reality orientations, pushes them farther from shore, out onto the foggy water of alienation and confusion." That quote resonated with me today. I may not be the one losing my grip with reality, but I can see those who are being overcome, and for some reason, that puts me in a foggy water of alienation and confusion.

Am I overwhelmed? Well, a little bit. I am tired, but thankful. Everything is going pretty well for me. However, my house may tell another story. It's suffering from neglect. If I were it's parent, I would be arrested, but I thrive in this atmosphere. I don't let myself drown. The demos have been amazing. My brain is literally growing. I'm fascinated by what the teachers are sharing and can't wait to take it back in to my class. I have a list of books bigger than me waiting to be read and all I want to do is jump in and read and read and read. But then, I want to sleep.

I did manage to write like a fiend today. I brainstormed a list of professional pieces. I made a list of about 6 things, including turning my demo into a paper and talking through a program I would like to pilot (which is listed on Google Groups right now). I also started a narrative for a DonorsChoose grant, which Inga edited for me. I'm about ready to send it. I also wrote a LONG letter that I needed to get out. I wrote notes on my demo...things I want to add and change. I wrote all day. Then I came home and had to write a letter to the insurance company. Now this. Woosh!

Now I know how Can 'O Beans feels.

Writing and Reading With "The Rash"

Friday was one of the best days we've had so far! Listening to Ron Rash talk about his books and his writing style was a remarkable experience. For one thing, it confirmed for me the way I write. Characters often come to me and dictate what they are going to do, and leave little room for me to negotiate their future, which makes me sound a little delusional from the perspective of a non-writer. I often go back and read pieces of things I've written with little to no memory of writing it! For example, my piece on the e-Anthology right now called "Infatuation" I remember coming to me after an author-reading. The part about the author talking to the woman about people with her same last name actually happened. The narrator has a twinge of me. I've always had this morbid curiosity/fascintion with death, but I can't really tell anyone why. However, I've often overcome my thoughts, albeit briefly, in meeting certain people in my life that I thought were worth sticking around for. However, I don't remember actually writing that piece! And I did little to change it when I posted it, and it's gotten some very good feedback! It's a first draft, that's not even complete! Wow!

I also spent the weekend reading, "One Foot in Eden" which is very out of my element as far as what I normally read. But I like it so much, I went out and bought a second copy for my step-father for Father's Day. Then I begged him to abandon what he was reading and start reading it NOW.

I also like that we called it a day early on Friday. I was brain-tired and bone-dead. I went straight home and slept! I don't think I could've written or revised or rehashed another thing. It was like a bucket that was all full of water and I couldn't hold anymore.

Now, to demo this week. AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

New Slang

"Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.Only, i don't know how they got out, dear.Turn me back into the pet that i was when we met.I was happier then with no mind-set." -from the song, "New Slang" by the Shins.

Today I was grumpy, which had little to do with UWP and a lot to do with everything else. I'm very tired and inattentive. Jessica and Becky both did excellent job in presentations, but I couldn't focus as well as I have all of the other days. Dawn and I had a blast, though. Since the first night, the night of the interview, I've been very drawn to Dawn. Like kindred spirts, we are. It's nice to have company.

It's nice exploring my relationship with music. While I know how connected to music that I am, not everyone knows. I think there's a part of me that just wishes it was more obvious. I love to share with other music fans. I do think in songs and lyrics, and even album covers and liner notes. I'm always thinking about songs in my head. Some people just seem to represent songs. It may not be the lyrics or the title, but there's a part of them that, for me, identifies with a music file that's tucked away somewhere in my head. Yesterday, I was listening to the Juliana Hatfield song, "Spin the Bottle" and it reminded me of Inga. And no, I wasn't thinking of Inga playing the game "Spin the Bottle" and I wasn't thinking that she was anything like Hatfield, who's a smack addict! It's in the small things...the details, ever minute.

I see everything in songs....the whole, wide world.

Bite Me!

Today has been...different. While I've known that my personality is much different than most (and I do recognize that we're all unique like precious little snowflakes...) it has become glaring within my writing group. I'm not conservative. I'm not self-editing. I'm not afraid to be a verbal exhibitionist, a logotramp, if you will. My writing is personal and is honest...a little in your face. If you ask me a question, don't be afraid of hearing the answer, because you will get it and nothing but. Heck, most writers I know are alcoholics and my life is tame in comparison, but I am not some kitten up a tree. I swear when I want to (and like a sailor at times), I can do a shot with the boys, and I can be overtly sexual. It's not meant to offend, but it's meant to be real. That's what writing is to me, even when it's fiction. Especially when it's not.

And today I learned I want to be Inga.

Dare to Be Great

One of my favorite movie characters of all time has a quote in my favorite movie in which he says, "I'm looking for a dare to be great situation." That's how I feel at UWP: I am looking for a dare to be great situation. 

Writing is as important to me as oxygen. I wouldn't be sacrificing a month of my summer otherwise. And every writing prompt we're assigned, every assignment we're given, it is my dare to be great situation. I don't want to put forth mediocre. I don't want to get by. Every time I have a chance to write, I have the chance to create something stellar. My mind goes everywhere, a whirling dervish of ideas yet to be recorded, and even some ideas replayed and revised.

However, I have to admit that after 7 hours of mind-cardio, I'm tired. Tonight I came home and worked for two hours on my demo. I have done very little to my house. The sheets need changing and there is a smell coming from the kitchen so vile, it might just be easier to move. 

But I'm amazed and inspired. I have found my dare to be great situation, and I accept the challenge. 

English Teachers Are Human, Too...at least, some of us are....

I think everyone has had a bad experience with an English teacher in his or her lifetime. You know, that nit-picky perfectionist who constantly corrected everything that was uttered in his or her presence and made you feel worthless of your privilege to speak English. When people ask me what I do, and I reply that I'm an English teacher, apparently the worst image next to Freddy Kruger is conjured as I usually get a certain facial expression as a response. You know, kind of a just-tasted-something-sour-smelled-something-foul-oh-and-I'm-constipated kind of look. Then, they start to watch for me to say something grammatically incorrect, spell something incorrectly, or not know the meaning of a word (or at least be able to use it in a sentence). Then, they'll pounce on me and try to jerk away all of my teaching credentials or act as if I'm only impersonating an English teacher. So, people don't want the perfectionist evil English teacher, but it's what's expected of you.

I thought about this today because I've overheard people commenting on their own spelling or you can see the worry on their faces as they determine whether or not they've split the infinitive (ok, they don't *know* they've split the infinitive, but you knowwhutimean...). We're fallible. Because we're teachers, it doesn't mean we always know EVERYTHING! Allow us to stumble, don't look at us smugly when we falter, and know we're exposing our inner souls on here, and we might just mistype or forget that blasted comma. However, we don't necessarily need to be given a copy of "Eats, Shoots, and Leaves" or "Woe is I" to take home and ingest.

Connemara

"I've written some poetry I don't understand myself"--Carl Sandburg

Poetry has never been my forte. I like reading it, but it's not a desire like reading prose is for me. I've written some, all very bad, bizarre, and amateurish. Yet there are times when possessed by writing, that the way it bleeds out of me is hardly controlled, and at times can be a mixture between poetry and prose. Prosetry? Ack, I just call it "complicated prose." 

So here is the "complicated prose" I wrote today while at Connemara. First, I must say that in my head, my sincere appreciation for the absolute beauty of the place kept tangling with my religious beliefs, and I couldn't stop feeling so gracious, thankful for this beautiful earth we were given to be a part of. So my "complicated prose" if given a name would most likely mix the two as well, but I can't think of name for it. 

Nature, a religion--ecosystems harmonizing like an angel choir. Sunlight shining halos around us all, our sins forgiven. A lone duck baptizes himself in the egg of the waterfall while fish pray in the falls' omega. Everywhere around me is Christ's plan. 

Another piece I wrote was also some "complicated prose" with a little bit of "self-righteous list" thrown in. 

Muscles, taut. Pathways are winding, can be severe but lead out to breathtaking clearings. Industry interrupts majesty, injecting itself upon the serenity like a cold, steel knife. Blessings from God all around, small gifts given to me at every turn, like the birds' beautiful chorus. Stone shoulders emerge on all sides cradling the landscape. A brilliant metaphor for life, every bit.

Connemara is beautiful and this has been an amazing day. My muscles are reminding me of my journey now, too. A kind of pleasurable pain. Today was amazing. Thanks to all who planned and put effort into our experience. Lovely.