1.30.11

Remember those poems I offered to write? Well, most everyone has gotten theirs by now, and I wanted to share some of them. First off, the one I wrote for Mike about chafing.

"Chafing"
By E. Gosney
Written for Mike Curtis on Jan. 10, 2011

The price we pay for glory:
Skin rubbed raw by its neighbor.
Wet with perspiration,
and now, with bodily fluids that 
denote injury —
puss.
blood.
and even tears.

But awkward walking 
and baby-powdered pants
are symbols of true men.

True warriors. 

1.29.11

I didn't work today. I know, it's a miracle. (I haven't had a Saturday off in a long, long time.)

I also didn't work on Monday or Tuesday, so I went to Monument Valley to visit Devon, Sarah and the boys. I used my low-end cameras more than my mucho-expensivo camera (I'm getting pretty good at Spanish, huh?) Here's some of what I saw.

At the park! 






(Photo by Spencer)


I realized on my way out of town that I hadn't taken any pictures of monuments. I was pretty haggard, so it was easier to make ugly faces than nice ones. Sorry, Mom.




See the bear and rabbit? In the middle. 


Driving back.


I took more pictures of the boys. Go to my photography blog to see them. Yeah, they made the photography blog. My many self-portraits? Not so much. :o)
Oh, and I would've gotten pictures of Devon but he was either working or playing Angry Birds. Ha ha, such a great game. 

1.26.11 #2

Do you ever have one of those self-discovery moments? Not the deep ones. No, I'm keeping it light and fluffy today, my friends. I'm talking about looking in the mirror, or at a picture of yourself, or, heaven forbid, a video of yourself, and you see something and go, "Holy crap, how long have I been walking around looking/sounding/acting like that?" I'm not talking about your fly down or a bad hair day or another temporary malfunction. I mean something like your voice (I don't think anyone likes what their voice sounds like, by the way, even those people who like to hear themselves talk, if you know what I mean) or how your eye squints funny with you say, "please," or, well, I am just making stuff up. But you get what I'm talking about, right?

I had one of those moments today with a video of myself. I kept watching thinking, "If she -- I mean, if I -- would just do this. Just do it! You look ridiculous! Can't you see yourself?" No, no I could not. And so I will be very aware of this flaw of mine, thus I will be consciously trying to fix it for the next couple of days until I forget about it all together and go on looking and talking the way I always have -- or have for a while, anyway. I guess I still have friends, so it can't be that bad. But I don't seem to be able to secure a boyfriend, so this may be the answer to the, "what's wrong with me?" question I have asked myself before. ... And now you're wondering what this flaw is, right? Or, you're probably more like, "Oh, no, I've seen you talk. I can totally see why boys are turned off by you."

Ha ha haaa haaaaa. ...

... Oh man, I hope not. How tragic. In 60 years I'll be in the old folks' home talking to all the widows and other bachelorettes and they'll be telling their stories of lost love and Romeo-and-Juliet-scenarios. Then they'll get to me and I'll have to either lie (which I haven't mastered yet) or tell them the truth: I couldn't find a husband who could bear to watch me talk.

I'll be the laughing-stock of the nursing home. So, I guess I have that to look forward to, along with smelling like cat urine (cuz I'll obviously have a lot of pet cats) and wearing orthopedic shoes.

-eg

1.26.11

What I'm grateful for today


1. Small towns, public rest rooms and Diet Coke. All of which are pretty essential on road trips.

2. Music. Particularly the kind you can sing along to, really loudly.

3. A painting from my nephew, Spencer. And I'm pretty grateful I got to visit Spencer, James, Sarah and Devon this weekend, too. ;o)

4. Friends. New friends. I sure do like my old friends, but there's something so exciting about new friends.

5. Sleep. Thomas said he'd rather not be bothered by sleep, that if he could live without it, he would. I think very differently.

There's more, and I even have a video or two for you, but my break is over so it'll have to wait.

-eg

1.19.11

3-Line, 3-Minute Poems. 


Part II.

By Elizabeth Gosney



Cantelope
Layers of color, of textures, of taste.
Good with salt, if you are brave. 
Or not. The orange melon is like your head. 


Bus Ride
Blue, plastic seats, hard as ice, just as cold.
Finger streaked windows, billows of smoke, screeching brakes.
The beast eats us alive, spits us out at pre-planned pit stops.


Traffic
Tight jaw. White knuckles. Penetrating stare.
At nothing. Nothing moves.
No matter how you will it to.


Cupcakes
Unsuspecting, these miniature delights.
Unsuspecting, as am I, to their velvet I will taste.
Unsuspecting as to their fate — boiling stomach acid and an inglorious exit. 

1.18.11

My Date with Mason
(my nephew)


We went bowling.
(Mason got a strike on the first try. He had bumpers, though, so, yeah.)



Then we took some pictures. 






Then we went to Carls Jr. Mmmm, french fries. 




Too bad we're related and I'm 20 years older than him. Cuz he's a stud. 

1.16.11


Who knew this could be so hard to say?

1.12.11

Solace
Comfort or consolation in a time of distress or sadness.

As I walked home tonight, just the short walk from my car to my apartment, I pondered. I sought solace. Not enjoyment, not entertainment, not even happiness. Solace. From what, I don't know. How to reach it was equally unknown.

My thoughts continued. Where do other people find solace? What do they turn to, or who? What or who, outside of religion? This was just a curiosity, not necessarily what I wanted. Just a question. Do people find solace? Or distractions?

Outside of God, solace would seem to come through entertainment, which, as I've already noted, is not the same as solace. It is a distraction from the distress or sadness.

But not all things aside from God are unable to provide solace. Take writing for example. It is my bottle of spirits. My long draw on a cigarette. My romantic movie. My party. Even, at times, my prayer.

Solace. 

Hmm.

-eg [12.16.10]

1.9.11

Giveaway. 

Yeah, you heard me right. I hear that's what all the cool bloggers are doing these days. And with this giveaway, everyone wins.

After reading a chapter in "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg in which she describes selling original poems for $1 at carnivals and fairs, made on-the-spot for each customer, I decided to try it.

But I don't want to charge for my poems (yet), so instead, I'll give them away. Here.

All you have to do is comment on this post, giving me a topic (any topic, nothing is too strange or too cliche) and how and where you want me to send it. (Either an e-mail address or a mailing address.) Or, if you don't want other people seeing that private information, e-mail me at limpfaceliz [at] gmail [dot] com

There are no guarantees on length, quality or accuracy to what you were expecting, but it's free, and it's yours. Only yours.

So really you have nothing to lose.

Comment. Get a free poem.

Happy Sabbath.

1.6.11

3-Line, 3-Minute Poems. 


Part I.

By Elizabeth Gosney


Winter
Souls are more present in the frost and fog.
They hide there, waiting to be found.
Blowing snow obscures their view, but not completely.

Summer
Red. Blistered. Brown. Freckled.
Shades of skin, of borrowed shells.
Take the towel, leave the shoes.

Diet Coke
A burning sensation pierces the throat,
Cooling the tongue, stripping the teeth.
The mind bursts as the blood contracts.

Beards
My husband, should I have one, will wear a beard.
But only on special occasions.
Paul Bunyan's birthday, for example.

Shoelaces
An impossible feat at age five and two-quarters.
An impossibly persistent annoyance at age twenty-eight.
An impossible presence on one aged four and eighty.

Dollar Store
Despised for its class (lack of).
Used for its price (cheap).
Am I speaking of a dollar store or a hooker?

Coffee
I have no idea what it tastes like,
This steaming, swirling mug of brown.
The smell is my closest aid, a teasing clue of reality.

Couch
It sits, which is odd, because I sit on it.
It sits covered in hair. Also true of me.
It's soft -- My goodness, how much I share in common with a love seat.

1.6.11

"You should've asked her to dance."

"She looked happy to me."

"She was content, not happy. ... Ultimately, the problem is you're not willing to take risks. You've got to be willing to take risks."

--Cecil talking to Elliot in "The Baxter"

1.2.11

You know what I've wanted to do but never have? (Or at least I don't think I have. My memory isn't what it used to be. Or rather, what it should have been when I say 'used to be,' because my memory has always been a bit shaky.) Did you guess? Well, I'll tell you. I want to do one of those spiffy, "Year in Review" posts. I'm not sure anyone, reading any blog (not just mine) gives a darn about what another person has done over the course of the past year (hence why Christmas letters get thrown away without being read all the way to the end) but I want to do it anyway. So, here it goes.

A Year in Review: 2010
By Elizabeth Gosney


In January I resolved not to make any resolutions. I did make some spaghetti sauce, however, and took every opportunity to use my then-new camera. I discovered "Glee" and "The Weepies" and tried to remember a time without their amazing music in my life, while simultaneously trying to make music myself on a newly purchased guitar.





In February I wrote a lot. Mostly for my creative writing class. That was a very fulfilling and liberating time. Thomas and I ate-and-ran at the Phi Kappa Phi banquet. Seriously, you think we were gonna stay for a bunch of bore-you-to-tears speeches by a bunch of wrinkled academics? Ha.


March was full of poetry. I discovered I'm not too horrible at it, but I like reading others' stuff more. Sarah and I visited Grace, Idaho, including a geyser and a natural spring. I interviewed for an internship at Church Magazines but was rejected.



Now, April, that was an eventful month. I decided to intern at LDS Living Magazine. I was hired as the news editor for The Daily Universe. Thomas and I took a spur of the moment trip down to Monument Valley. I bought a car and sold my scooter. I graduated from college and my parents came to visit ME. Yeah, me. That was awesome.







Then came May, during which time I fully intended to live with three great girls during the spring, summer, fall and winter, although plans later changed [see July]. I got settled in as news editor and plugged away at LDS Living, trying to get used to phone interviews. My sweet Grandpa Dick passed away at the end of May, which brought a myriad of feelings that only death can.



June was the month of travel. It began with a drive down to California for my grandpa's funeral. Bitter-sweet, it was. Four days after getting back, I flew up to Washington for one of my best friend's wedding. I was the photographer. Yikes, pressure. I hung out a lot with another best friend, Stevie. Great times in Seattle. Straight from there I went to Texas for a visit with my family (including taking family photos for siblings). I began contemplating moving down to Texas instead of staying in Provo, but that decision wasn't made concrete until ...








... July, as I realized I needed a change of scenery. I also finished a homeschooling article for LDS Living Magazine that would, when published in September, cause an uproar amongst home school families in Utah and beyond, as witnessed by angry comments on the good ol' Internet. Thomas and I discovered a beautiful meadow up in South Fork Canyon. I bought a Kodak Play Sport video camera. Thomas and I joined a intramural softball team and I got thoroughly scraped up. I interviewed for yet another Church publication (Welfare Department) and, yet again, was rejected.


[Video of James. Click here.]


August, ah, August. I managed to finish my hours for my internship (barely) and write a half-baked paper to complete my college undergraduate career. I visited the grave of my great-great-great-grandmother, Elizabeth Mathews. Sarah, Kyle and I went to Park City to try the Alpine slide. I packed up my stuff, getting rid of half my possessions in order to fit everything in my car before heading down to Texas. Thomas and I drove for 22 + hours over two days to get there. I developed a case of  suppressed anxiety that manifested itself in a strange heart murmur. OK, so I don't know what caused it, but my heart was acting weird, and my brain was overwhelmed by "the future."






In September I worked a lot at the mall, same place Cath works, selling over-priced sunglasses. I took pictures of Kelsey and Ben's kids and Kathy came to visit. I applied for a job back in Provo on the recommendation of a friend, more out of curiosity than anything else. After an interview, several tests and an offer, I accepted the job. Not at all in the plan. So I once again began packing and planning.



Oh, October. Deon and her boys came to visit right before I left Texas (perfect going-away present). Dad and I drove more than 16 hours to get to Monument Valley from Denton and got to spend less than 12 hours with Devon and Sarah's family (not nearly enough time, obviously). We visited Bluff, a tiny town my great-great-great grandfather and grandmother helped establish. I surprised my best friend and old roommate with the news I had moved back to Provo by showing up at a Divine Comedy performance she was going to. I lived at Gabe and Anna's for a few weeks, found an apartment in Provo, started my job at the Daily Herald, missed my Texas family like crazy, carved pumpkins with Kyle, took a lot of pictures on my solitary drives up the canyon and realized amidst all the hard stuff, life was (and is) really, really good.










November was uneventful, which was a tender mercy, really, after all the commotion. I worked a lot, climbed the Y on a whim, got lots of pictures via txt from Ben and Catherine (yay unlimited txting!), did lots of things -- from cleaning to movies -- with Anna, worked on Thanksgiving, but also got to eat the traditional meal with my brother's family as well as later with some cousins, aunt, uncle, etc., and took Thomas to lunch for his birthday (complete with cupcake and candle!)






Last, but by all means not least, December. My nephew Hayden was baptized by my dad. Dad and I went to a BYU basketball game. I turned 23 and celebrated by going to Red Robin with some friends. I made a goal to participate in the Rex Lee Run 5k in March. The Provo Tabernacle burned down. I flew down to Texas and spent Christmas with my family there (and my grandma who came from California).








Whew, that took me longer than I expected. I'm sure I forgot some crucial things, but I'm gonna say it's good for now. And good because it gave me the chance to reflect on how blessed I am and how not-boring my life is, actually. (I often have that thought, that my life is so dull compared to others').

And even if my life was dull (which, as already established, it isn't), I have the gospel. And that makes life worthwhile, regardless of where I live, where I travel or work, who I know, what I can do, and so on. The Savior lives. The Atonement is real. We are part of the Plan of Salvation that promises we can live with our families and with God for eternity.

So if for no other reason, life is good because of that.

2010 was a good year. I'm excited to see what future years bring.