November 2007

I found this photo yesterday and for some reason it made me laugh so hard. Oh Catherine. You crack me up. HAPPY 20th BIRTHDAY! [yesterday] ;o)


"Nobody Knows Me at All" by The Weepies

When I was a child everybody smiled, nobody knows me at all
Very late at night and in the morning light, nobody knows me at all

Now I got lots of friends, yes, but then again, nobody knows me at all

... I don't give a damn, I'm happy as a clam, nobody knows me at all

Ah, what can you do? There's nobody like you. Nobody knows me at all

ba ha, i love this picture. [yeah, i've posted it before. it's that good.]

"Hideaway" by The Weepies

... I see the bare moon
Raise his big bald head
I see my friends play the fool
I'll make my own way

In the wide world
Just know I don't want to wander too far

Even the stars

Sometimes fade to gray
Even the stars


Some call me

All kinds of names

Some say I don't play the right kind of game
I try to be honest

I try to be kind
And honestly leave when I know that it's time
I know that it's time

Hear a phoebe sing his only song
The summer's day is hovering

I'll write my full heart
Troubles fly like embers

Out the windows of our traveling car

Even the stars

Sometimes fade to gray

Even the stars



I have a teacher who enunciates his words. He talks slowly and pauses for inordinate amounts of time in an attempt to create a dramatic moment. Sitting in the back row of the class as he says, "speaK" or "rumP" I can feel the spit flying toward me. I have to look down so he doesn't see the disgusted faces I'm making involuntarily (kinda like Justice Samuel Alito last night). He has good intentions, I suppose. There are a few brown-nosers and butt-kissers in the class and they are even more frustrating then him -- them trying to be funny, trying to be unique, trying to impress this enUNciaTing, arTiCulaTing man. Bah.


I bought a guitar. Did I tell you?

© 2010 E.Gosney


Meet Frank.
He's a snow man with nice eyebrows and cute ears.

Meet Frank's girlfriends. Sarah and Elizabeth. ;o)

I figured it was probably time to stop hating the snow and just embrace it.
Sarah did. Literally.

1.22.10 #2

This Week's Playlist:

1) World Spins Madly On -- The Weepies
2) Don't Stop Believin' -- 'Glee' Cast

3) Give Me the Simple Life -- Jamie Cullum

4) I'd Rather Be With You -- Joshua Radin

5) The Best is Yet to Come -- Michael Buble
6) Can't Go Back Now -- The Weepies
7) Cast Off Dance Off -- Shark Speed

8) What If I Loved You -- Joey Gian
9) Defying Gravity -- 'Glee' Cast

10) Someone Else's Life -- Joshua Radin
11) Haven't Met You Yet -- Michael Buble
12) Dancing with Myself -- 'Glee' Cast
13) Good Mornin' Life -- Dean Martin


© 2010 E.Gosney

It's been blowing like crazy the past couple days. I forgot how much I love the wind. Even when its chill stings my cheeks and its gusts push me around like a mosh pit. In fact, that's what I love about it. It smells good too. I can smell the death in it -- the decayed leaves and grass -- but I can smell a hint of spring. It may only be January, but maybe it's mother nature's way of letting us know she's still there. It won't be long and the dreariness of winter will be over.

My roommate said I was talking in my sleep last night. I was asking where Maggie was. I don't know any Maggie's. But if Deon and Dillan have a girl, they want to name her Maggie. If they have a girl, let the record show that I called it. Yes, this is another example of my psychic ability.

The washing machine gauged me today. I don't think that was very fair. I didn't do anything to it. I gave it $1.50 for 26 minutes of work ... oh, never mind. I see why it retaliated.
"That's like a dollar an hour!" --napoleon dynamite

I'm trying to psych myself up to write a personal essay, or a piece of "creative non-fiction." Yeah, OK. I love being able to write. The satisfaction that comes from putting the right words together into a sentence is amazing. But if the desire to write doesn't come on its own because of strong emotion or noteworthy event, then I have to get warmed up. I have to ease myself into it, and that can be painful. I'd rather be sleeping. Or taking pictures. Or driving. I really want to hop in my car and just drive. Fast. But I don't have a car. And I have to write. A personal essay. Yeah, OK.


"It's a love-hate relationship; she loves me and I hate her." --elizabeth gosney, 2007

Still true. But now with a new crazy.


I wanna get away for the weekend. But no such luck is in my future.

[flying over dallas. december 2009. © 2010 E. Gosney]


Sorry, Cath, you took too long.

A December 2009 Short Stop Motion Project:



The Experiment:

I decided to be creative today and make some Italian food from scratch with no recipe. It ended up turning into a kind of spaghetti sauce (although I ate it with fettuccine noodles). Here's roughly what I put into the pan:

1 onion
1 red pepper
1 green pepper
(onion and peppers were half-sauteed before adding rest of ingredients)
1 can tomato sauce
1 can tomato paste
1 can diced tomatoes (drained)
1 can diced tomatoes with green chiles (with juice, because the tomato paste made it too thick. Ha ha.)
3/4 lb. breakfast sausage links, cooked and chopped
2 Tbsp Italian seasoning
1 Tbsp minced garlic
5 Tbsp brown sugar

It was spicy and sweet and actually really good. I was pretty shocked that it turned out so well since I'm not exactly known for my cooking skills. Next time I think I'll try kielbasa instead of breakfast sausage, just for kicks.


this is what i do when i should be doing homework.

i told you i had narcissistic tendencies. but with a face like mine, how can i not? ;o)

1.11.10 #2

I forgot about all my Christmas break photos. Here are a few of them.

Rora and a too-big-for-her newsie hat. ;o)

Jemma is so chic.

Me and Lilly.

Kelsey, Devon, James and Catherine on Christmas Eve.

Mom and Dad on Christmas Eve. The smoke is actually steam, from the food. I promise my dad hasn't picked up smoking. ;o)

The Christmas Day snowman -- Dad and Spencer

The five siblings who made it to Texas -- Devon, Kelsey, Thomas, Elizabeth, Catherine. (Not pictured: Gabe and Deon).


Thoughts on a Sunday night.

Life is good. It's not excellent, but it sure isn't bad either. It's good. And you know, I think that's the ideal place to be. At least for me. When it's excellent, it's often also stressful and emotional. When it's bad, well, it's pretty miserable. But when life is just plain good, well, then things are comfortable. I like comfortable. And things can always get better too, and I like better.

I went to a show last night. It was heavy metal and I hated it. But I was with friends, so that made it OK. I plugged my right ear every time it crackled. And I laughed at all the ridiculous musicians who take themselves so seriously. At first I sincerely tried to appreciate the music, but then I stopped. It wasn't worth appreciating because, well, it wasn't really music.

I often feel like a 13-year-old. Sometimes I feel like a 400-year-old troll. And occasionally I feel like a 22-year-old woman. Almost always it's determined by the people around me. I sure like the people who make me feel like the person I am -- a lady.

Thoughts on a Monday night.

I sat next to a girl today with a very large laptop balanced on her very average knees. I glanced over at her desktop background. It was of a young woman in an elegant wedding gown. I thought that was sort of odd, then I realized the woman on the computer was the same woman holding the computer and I thought that was really odd. Why would you put a picture of yourself as your desktop background? That's like having pictures of yourself in your wallet. I'll be the first to admit I have narcissistic tendencies, but I'm not gonna let the world know that.

I just realized, maybe it was her husband's computer.
Oh well. My criticism still stands.

Over the weekend I watched the movie, "Adam" starring Hugh Dancy. I had high expectations, and they all came crashing down. OK, OK, that's a little extreme. I just would've changed the ending and taken out some of the sensuality. I did, however, love the music. One of the featured artists was The Weepies -- I wrote their band name down a few months ago with the intent to look them up. I wish I'd done that earlier. They are spectacular. See?


"All good books have one thing in common - they are truer than if they had really happened." --Ernest Hemingway

What do you think of that quote? I'm trying to think about cases in which it's applicable, and others where I disagree. ....


I've discovered "Glee." Love. it. Look up the songs on iTunes or the episodes on Hulu. It's worth it.

1.3.10 #2

I took a personality test tonight while at work. It's called the "Jung/Myers-Briggs Test," I think. I guess I am a INFJ, or a Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging. Yeah. Or a counselor. I think it did a pretty good job of describing me, especially the last line, which I bolded. ;o) Ha ha.

"Counselors have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others, and find great personal fulfillment interacting with people, nurturing their personal development, guiding them to realize their human potential. Although they are happy working at jobs (such as writing) that require solitude and close attention, Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries. Counselors are both kind and positive in their handling of others; they are great listeners and seem naturally interested in helping people with their personal problems. Not usually visible leaders, Counselors prefer to work intensely with those close to them, especially on a one-to-one basis, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes.

Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that Counselors are flighty or scattered; they value their integrity a great deal, but they have mysterious, intricately woven personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.

Counselors tend to work effectively in organizations. They value staff harmony and make every effort to help an organization run smoothly and pleasantly. They understand and use human systems creatively, and are good at consulting and cooperating with others. As employees or employers, Counselors are concerned with people's feelings and are able to act as a barometer of the feelings within the organization.

Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way. Counselors are highly intuitive and can recognize another's emotions or intentions - good or evil - even before that person is aware of them. Counselors themselves can seldom tell how they came to read others' feelings so keenly. This extreme sensitivity to others could very well be the basis of the Counselor's remarkable ability to experience a whole array of psychic phenomena."

Yeah. Psychic. I told you I wasn't making all that stuff up. Boo-yah.

I don't expect you to read all that, but you can try it yourself. HERE.


Old Vans, meet new Vans.
Your days are numbered...


What better way to start off the new year than with a bunch of pictures of me?! I know, I'm a genius.

Actually, I've never really cared about the whole new-year's-celebrations/resolutions/look-back-at-last-year sort of things. I like making goals and I like the whole "start fresh" idea, but basically it's like going to bed the night before your birthday, waking up the next day and expecting everything to be miraculously different and new. Uh, yeah, no. Believe me, after 22 years of thinking that, I've finally come to terms with the fact that I will never be 6'10" Amazon woman, world champion billiards player and Nobel Peace Prize winner. Well, not over night anyway.

So, in conclusion, this is not actually some sort of poignant New Year's Day post about how this year is gonna be the best ever (which it will be) or about my resolutions (I have three, all of which will be forgotten by February) or even about how 2009 was cool and here's what I did. Nah. This post is just four pictures of myself, taken over the Christmas break, illustrating my amazing facial capabilities and/or emotions at the time.

[I'm really not sure why I was making this face. Perhaps I was illustrating the fact that I can flare my nostrils even though neither of my parents can. Whaaaaat?]

[Librarian from Wonderland, maybe?]

[Back in Provo, trying not to think about school starting on Monday]

[My nose feels like this. Colds are wack. Wiggidy-wack.]

I say forget New Year's resolutions. They were designed to be broken anyway. Stick with the smaller goals, the "line-upon-line" concept behind real progression. That's they way to succeed. Am I right? Or am I right? Right. Righ-righ-right. Right. ....