all the animals at the zoo have ponds

“please help the missionaries in madagascar not to kill too many people, and better yet not any at all. amen.”
–third grader in prayer

i’ve had a german girl named rike staying with me for the past two weeks. she was exhausting–but in a good way. she kept me moving…not because she was persistant about seeing and doing everything, but because there were so many things i wanted to show her. memorable experiences were as follows:
1. we took rike to the lake twice. the first time, neither she nor i had any desire to get in the water, so we stayed in the back of the boat with our clothes on, cheering noah on and offering positive encouragement each time he fell while trying to “jump the wake” on his wakeboard. shortly before we left, noah decided to go for one last run. he jumped into the water and asked me to hand him the skis. since he had already drifted several yards from the boat, i had to shoot the skis across the water to him. i had no trouble with the first ski…but as i was placing the second ski in the water…well, i just kept going…and going. pretty soon both arms and my whole head were submerged. only knees to toes remained in the boat. i was later told that i was rescued only because my pockets contained the keys to the car…anyway, rike said my “swim” was worth the trip to the lake….i think she was disappointed when i stayed dry the second time through.
2. cheapo was good. rike bought it’s hard to find a friend. i was halfway hoping she would decide not to because she didn’t have enough money or something. i sort of wanted to get it for her. but hey, whatever works. she’s been listening to it a lot. i bought geogaddi and mason jennings’ new ep. both worthwhile purchases. i wasn’t sure about the ep the first time through, but it was only four dollars. also went to the aq on said cheapo day.
3. spent a weekend in northfield for camp hard rock…beer drinking songs and guinea pig scares played an important role…but i think the one dollar slushies at the cocoa bean stole the spotlight. at said camp i also wasted 24 seconds or so painting my toenails for the first time in my life. go all out or go home, eh? it’s amazing the things susan* could get me to do…
4. i took rike to her first half birthday party last week, which only goes to show that americans will take advantage of any excuse to party. they made me a cake. with frosting. and candles. okay, candle. but they baked me this cake and rike just laughed. but it was a nice surprise.
rike’s plane left today at 5:10pm. she was a great german. honestly, if you lined up all the germans in the entire world she would be my favorite. she read a lot. and left me some books** because they wouldn’t all fit in her suitcase. i won’t forget her. she was cool. every time we got in the car we talked about something substantial. drug and alcohol abuse among teenagers, former east and west germany, all sorts of things that came up in conversation only because she’s rike and i’m anna. she loved coffee. i spent a little too much time and money and a variety of gourmet coffee shops in the area. oh well. she was cool. i’ll miss her.
until later.
love anna
*m, you cut all that stuff out, right? i wanted to talk to you about it.
**including nick hornby’s about a boy and some german books that are way too advanced for me.

i have a lot to say.

i’ve debated addressing the “emocore” article for some time now. this article only upset me because it gave the older brother a feeling of triumph. i’ll be breif–i don’t want to be too critical–i’m not going to be the kid who writes a letter to the editor with phrases like “how dare you criticize the only ones who understand me,” “emo saved my life,” and “those lyrics aren’t mopey, they’re poetic.” but my wall is home to a collection of death cab for cutie stickers and memoirs, so i feel as if i have an obligation.
jimmy eat world’s pop-like sound was never something i was a particularly big fan of. i appreciated the lyrics to a few of their songs…mostly those found on their earlier albums…but after they landed a spot on KDWB’s playlist?? that, of course, is not reason enough to write them off…but i guess i always expected their sound to be accepted by that audience. jimmy eat world’s lead singer, jim adkins, says that “[His] band plays guitar-based, melodic rock.” they, like many other bands, don’t want to be labled emo and deny any association with the genre.
but if jimmy eat world isn’t emo, what is? i guess not the stuff i listen to, what i call emo…well, except for death cab for cutie, none of the other bands in my collection were mentioned in the article; however, many of the ones that were mentioned are all on compilations with artists like damien jurado and pedro the lion: saves the day, promise ring, etc. wait, my mistake, the ABC’s of emo article lists pedro the lion as up and coming.
i guess i won’t worry about it. i listen to what i like. i call it what i want. i’m still an emo kid. even if what i listen to is closer to folk or indie rock than what chris riemenschneider considers emo. who cares, anyway? it’s all music. drink it up.
goodnight you.
love anna

i want to blog so badly. it’s as if i have all these words in my stomach–and if i could cough them up and spit them out all over this page–the ache would go away. but the beginnings of sentences remain, the c’s and the b’s hooked together, caught between thursday’s half-finished paragraphs and a carefully scripted tomorrow.
the time i spend thinking about the plan i have for myself is a waste; however, upon reflection, i’ve realized that the more i think about the thinking, the less i accomplish and the worse i feel. i already know that sometimes i’m a bit too careful about what i say and do…i guess i’m so determined not to become someone who doesn’t see things, who doesn’t see people, or feel them. but more often than not, it’s a lack of saying and doing that leaves me with this ache.
it’s been suggested that for me writing about being sad is what keeps me from being sad. i don’t see how that could be true. writing about it certainly gives me a temporary fix…but one no better than a cup of hot cocoa or a warm blanket. it’s sharing my life with a community of people i’ve grown to trust and to love that helps. the words i’ve swallowed my never have settled…but how then, how do i find the words and say them to the people who need to hear them?
i returned from vacation in a hurry to get back to the friends i’d left behind. the best week of my summer ended today when i realized how much i need the next few days to be away from here…i continue to think about the relationships i’m blessed to have and how important it is to me that those bonds stay firm. i don’t expect my friendships to be blemish free (though maybe at one time i had such hopes), but i would hope that someday i’ll be able to say that in those that didn’t work out i tried my very best.
goodnight all.
love anna

something’s still bothering me.

home again, home again. with the 2002 road trip behind me, i can concentrate on the last third of the summer. but first, in review:
i spent the last two weeks on the road…minneapolis to los angeles and everywhere in between. the drive out was long and hot…temperatures reached 109 degrees…but 109 degrees in utah is like 79 in minnesota. the western states are humidity lacking, making it feel a good 30 degrees cooler. we stopped breifly in salt lake city and slept in reno. for every casino in that city there is also a buffet. but honestly, reno was a disappointment. it was just a dirty place to waste money.
san fransisco was a blast. we spent the first day exploring the city and then ben and i headed to a television station that broadcasts live from san fransisco to watch a show. we returned two days later for a behind the scenes tour from your favorite and mine, mr. chris parillo…he also introduced me to the best mocha i’ve ever had at peet’s coffee and tea. chris lives for coffee. for good coffee, that is. peet’s is four or five blocks from the studio. he has to pass starsucks to get there. we also spent a great deal of time at alcatraz and exploring the piers. san fransisco is a fun city. our three day stay there was perhaps a bit short.
we spent most of the next week driving slowly down the coast. the plan, i suppose, was to explore california’s many beaches. i’ve discovered that i’m not a particularly big fan of water. besides. it’s cold there. it didn’t really get warm until we reached los angeles…by way of the 405….
the trip home began a day early. i, along with everyone esle, was ready to go home. it was a long two weeks. sleeping in the back seat of the suburban just isn’t the same as a bed, you know? anyway, the trip back was filled with all sorts of music. here’s what i’ve been listening to:
a little too much rosie thomas
lots of denison witmer’s stuff, 80s ep, etc.
pedro (given)
fiona apple
boards of canada, music has a right to children*
autechre, peel sesison 2
then when i got home i had two packages from e-bay folks….one was damien jurado’s ghost of david, which i’ve been trying to get a hold of for a long time. the other was a compilation with a live version of pedro’s criticism as inspiration, among other things…including some of adam voith’s writing…i don’t know that i’m a fan of the rest of the cd though. we’ll see.
okay, there’s a bunch of stuff on my mind right now, but my eyes are starting to sting, so i best be getting to bed. i’ll try to come up with something a bit more substantial for another time 🙂
love anna
ps. i promise substantial doesn’t equal depressing…
*hey s, thanks man.

i don’t cry easily…i mean, it happens. occasionally. but not all that often. when it does, it’s not usually because i’m hurting. it’s because i’m ashamed. ashamed of my lack of courage, faith, or sympathy, ashamed of my selfishness, or ashamed of not being the person i know i’m capable of being. the tears are usually brought on by some unrelated issue….but i don’t cry because i’m sad. i cry because my concerns are so trivial. but what i realized this evening was that however trivial, my concerns are very real to me. the fact that my mind has regarded them as insignificant is of little importance; my heart, not my mind, controls my feelings. i’m not convinced that i can think my way into a better place. i believe that my heart needs to be touched. it’s like there’s some part of me hibernating in there without enough energy (or confidence) to fight its way to the surface.
i took a walk in the rain tonight. i passed familiar doors, those often found to be particularly heavy. for the first time i asked asked myself a simple question out loud: “are you okay?” the words startled me. my spoken answer was perhaps equally surprising: “no, i’m not.” i’ve shrugged off that question for a long time. it’s always been important for me to be the strong one. i’ve never wanted help–i’ve never wanted to believe that anyone was capable of helping me. is it a pride thing? i suppose. but i’m tired. tired of hiding and tired of wrapping myself in my own arms. i’m tired of this day, this week. and i’m ready to do something about it.
the fact that i don’t have everything figured out should come as no surprise to you. no one does. it’s as simple as that. but being described as “the most together person [you] know”?* i don’t think so. something about that line makes me feel like i’ve been a lying fool.
all the pipes are leaking if you notice it i guess. is that all it takes? someone to notice? if we all explained to each other how much we really cared, would it be okay? or would we all scare each other away? there’s certainly living proof of both circumstances. an unexpected phone call can mean the world to a someone. but then there are other times…
anyway. i don’t know if cleaning out my inbox and making room in my desk drawers will change anything. but i hope that no matter how deep i go, i’ll want someone to know me.
*w, no worries, i don’t remember everything you say, this just stuck.

something about the server crashing…..
we’re starting from scratch.
fitting, eh?
probably no writing tonight. i’m still mastering that rubiks cube.
bye bye.
love anna

…and this is my blog. i’m older than some, younger than others and sometimes i find that i don’t want to be invisible anymore. i’d like to try to be honest on this page, especially when it’s hard. this website is maybe a bit quiet but so am i. thank you very much to benj for helping me set it up. i hope that whoever is listening understands what it’s like to be an emo kid.
i like emo.
i think i’m going to head upstairs now. this laptop has been running for a long time. it needs a rest.
goodnight.
love anna