Brussels

There are few weeks of my life that whose greatness can compete with the one I just spent in Belgium. Already, when I think back to it, I become jealous of myself. And I don't want to forget it. It was incredible.

I went with the 35 students at the Danish Institute for Study Abroad that share my core class, the European Union. They were so dang great, and I'm glad they were stuck in my vicinity for a week. We all had different lifestyles, beliefs, and quirks. If you know those jokes that begin with "A Priest, a Princess, and the town drunk walk into a bar..." that's about how dissimilar we appeared to be at first glance. And second glance. Maybe even up until now. And several times we did all walk into a bar together, ironically. That's right, we're a joke.

I want to tell you about a few of the people I spent most of my time with. There was Claire, who was the group mom and who, if she had a spirit-animal would absolutely be a hen. I don't even know what that means, but she suggested it to me and I found it an apt description. Then there was Matt, a super nice gay guy who bears a striking resemblance to the actor that plays spider man. Samantha, whose level of bluntness is only comparable to her own obliviousness to reality. For the first few days, I couldn't figure out if she had a mild, albeit fantastic social disorder. Finally, there was Ian. Ian, the New Jersey Italian, a real live-fast-die-hard type who drank whiskey with lunch, and who, to his own surprise, found himself enjoying the company of some Mormon girl. He also had anger-management issues, maybe. 

We had such amazing group chemistry, we were sort of like a social version of alchemy. We all fell in love with each other before long, except Ian who couldn't decide whether he loved or hated Samantha. It was love; he was just confused.

Little by little, my classmates found out that I was LDS in one way or another. Ian, I told after sitting with him for an hour at a group lunch. I told him that I was a Mormon convert, and he responded by chuckling and saying, "No, you're not... Wait, really?"  I told Matt and Samantha the same night as well. We were just skirting around the conversation so I told them what I believed. They both proceeded to conduct a thorough interview after that, which lasted about an hour, one question after another. Somehow we ended up having an awesome conversation afterward, which lasted all of dinner and beyond. Ian sat at our table for dinner that night as well. From that night on, Matt made me the unofficial dinner discussion leader of mealtimes. It was so edifying that I'm pretty sure we all left every meal feeling like we understood ourselves and the world a little better.

But our talks were more than that. They were some of the most fun I've ever had, and I think they were for the others too. Even Ian would rather come out with us to get waffles and ice-cream and only end up at a bar after the sober group had exhausted all of their evening plans. We were just so dang silly.

We went to one Mom and Pop waffle restaurant in particular, and it was hysterical. Sam no sooner sat down with us than decided to leave to find a Haagen-Dazs waffle. When she didn't come back for 20 minutes, we figured we had lost her to the night, but she came back finally after half an hour with a waffle and a bag full of souvenirs. We tried to explain to her that it was shameful to bring a Haagen Dazs waffle into the restaurant, but the advice fell on deaf ears. Presently, a man at a table behind me spilled something and the waiter came by to wipe it up, but when I turned to see this happening, it sort of looked like the waiter was shining a customer's shoes.

"Wow, they shine shoes here!" I joked.
Sam turned to the waiter and asked him how much he charged. We all laughed, then realized that Samantha hadn't caught that I was joking. Also, she was wearing converse sneakers, so I don't know what she was planning on getting shined. Meanwhile, Ian kept asking all of us if we were going to get drunk tonight. We ignored him, except once or twice to say, "Yeah, are you going to stay in and read the Bible all night." Or, "Yeah, I'll get drunk when you start believing in Jesus." Ian is Jewish, so I was off the hook.

One day on study tour I was walking with Ian when I casually mentioned his anger problems to him. "What are you talking about?" he responded.
"Yeah you know, you curse everything, are angry all the time, etc."
"No I effing don't."
"Well, all I was going to say is that it's okay. It's going to be alright. You met me early enough in life that you can still bounce back and probably have a decent life."
"Oh, good," he said (or something like that).

The last night of our last night the group stayed in a hotel in the Hague. I remember this part in little images in my head. There's an image of my on a dolly flying down a Dutch hallway in full Titanic posture. There's an image of me pushing someone else doing the same thing. And lights and funny streets and an Asian restaurant.

I remember that Claire and I were rooming together that night. While we were getting all settled and readying ourselves for bed, people started coming to visit us. Matt, Keanu Reeves (Brett), Mary-the-sweet-and-Catholic. It started with Mary and Matt. I had been collecting euro-pennies because I had some idea about making them into jewelry when I got back to the states. They were the most darling little coins. I had been asking around to see if anyone would donate to my cause and even offered to do a dance to celebrate any donations to the euro-penny fund.

My victory dance was me rolling around on the the bed and plowing over Mary, who had also been sitting on the bed and exclaiming unintelligible things about my excitement. I though I might kill Mary by accident because she is the tiniest frailest looking human you could ever imagine, but the rolling and flailing couldn't be stopped. I remember the look of horror on Mary's face when she realized this. And after I rolled over her once how I saw her again and she was laughing.

When Matt came over, he sat down on the bed before also contributing to the fund. So naturally, I rolled over him a few times too. We sat around and talked and looked out the window completely thirsty for everything and felt nostalgic for the place we were rather than the places we've been, when Brett came over. He too, gave me a few euro-pennies.

The group told me that I reminded them of Kristen Gwinn. I thought that was an honor.

Be my guest.

Tonight I had plans to go to a Mormon party with a curse-every-other-word, Italian friend of mine. I was biding my time in Cafe Paludan reading when I got a headache that made it annoying to read anymore. So I set up a chess board at my lonely table, put all the pieces up and placed a sign in front of an empty chair for my would-be opponent: “Be my guest :)” I sat there for an hour wondering if anyone would sit down. I had myself in a central location near the bar, so a lot of people could see me. No one stopped.
An hour after I had designed the opportunity, a man saw it, did a double-take and asked me if I could wait three minutes. Of course I could. He came back three minutes later with a pint of beer and told me his name: Christos, from Greece. He’s studying meteorology and getting his Ph.D. in Copenhagen, and he’s a played chess for years. So he beat me twice in one hour, barely thinking about his moves.
I’m supposed to meet him to play again tomorrow at 6:00.

The Professional

So last night I went to a bonfire with pink eye and half a bathing suit. Bad decisions. I'm standing in a circle of smoke and every pollution known to LA is irritating my irritated eyes. Oh, and half a bathing suit? I just thought to myself as I was getting ready, "Self:" I said, "I will put that bathing suit bottom on, as a matter of fact, but I don't think I need to wear the top." What??? Why would I need to wear the bottom if not the top? I could wade halfway into the water with a shirt on, right? Wrong. I wore a dress for Pete's sake. So I could go shin-level in. And at that depth, I realized the water felt perfect and I wanted to go swimming.

The bonfire was a Mormon bonfire. We weren't burning Mormons or anything, but as a side note some of them, because of their Eagle Scout status, thought they could walk through fire and burned themselves. It was a Family Home Evening activity, a sort of Monday night mix-and-mingle thing. I walked up to someone I know, William, and he points out Kyle: who is, according to William, "the coolest person ever".

B-"Why are you the coolest person ever?"
Kyle-"I don't know. I do some music: guitar. And I used to design video games."
B-"Ah... You sound what might be the object of a lot of man crushes. What else?"
Kyle-"Um. I'm a professional wrestler."
B-"Hold the phone! I used to watch WWF with my brother every Thursday. (FACT) Do you do real wrestling or the fake stuff?"
*I think it's important here to note that real wrestling has always been sort of gross to me, but like I said: Fake stuff, like the WWF,  I can  respect (at least when I was 12)*
Kyle-"The staged kind. I almost took a job with WWE."
*Oh, okay, so he really is the coolest person ever. I get it. Ok.*
B-"How do they do that choke hold thing?"

DUMB question. He showed me. But he didn't really choke me. He didn't even really grab my neck, and like 3 seconds into it, he looked around at the crowd we were standing in and thought better of the whole thing.

B-"What do you do now?"
Kyle-"I work with hedge funds."
*Whaaa?*

What I like about all this, besides every single part of it, is that he wasn't like a MEGA TOOL guy. He was way humble and sort of shy about all of it.

That's it.
Kyle, the timid professional wrestler.

Of course, when my aunt asked me how the bonfire was, I told her: fine. It was fun. The water felt nice...

It's all about how you frame it.

La LA

So I've been in LA 2 whole weeks now. I've spent a moderate amount of time brooding over my feelings of leaving Nashville. It's like this: I was on Mill Ave before I left Phx, and a guy on the street played me a couple of original songs. He had just spent time traveling up and down the west coast pursuing music, and wrote a song about the experience. One of the lines in the song was: "If home is where the heart is, then how smart is it to love in so many places" (or something like this). And that is precisely how I feel. I love Phoenix: it's where I was born, but it's also where I came alive. I love Nashville: where the trees are as overgrown as the people's love. The clash of ambition and art. And I'm starting to like LA: full of things I've never seen or felt. Full of the easiness of tan-lines, and the hardness of being lonely in a crowd.

And now, an LA experience:

Two days ago, I was walking home from an interview when I almost passed a Goodwill. I stopped on my heel and went back. Inside, I found: an awkward conversation with an old man, Harry Potter y el prisionero de Azkaban, 2 X-men comic books from 1995 that are totally rad, and 2 dresses--one of which I could aptly be described as looking like a Mormon superhero in, if only I had a giant "M" tattooed on my chest.

Twilight contest (ie: why I will never be cool)

So I'm sitting in a service auction, minding my own business, when my friend Paul, whom I've known for a week at this point, flips his head around to randomly tell me there's a Twilight lookalike contest coming up in Provo. That's all he says.
"Oh? Really? And you think I should go?"
"Yes."

I didn't admit this then, but holy cow. I was excited. Finally a chance to cash in on my non-talent of having the same hair and head shape as Kristen Stewart. Woot. I went home and looked it up right away. It was the Very. Next. Day.

So lame am I, that I was the first person to show up to this gig. Alone, no less. My friend dropped me off at a contest... by myself. Even the people hosting the thing weren't there yet. Oh yeah: Serious. So I walked around the shops around looking as conspicuously Bella-esque as I ever have in my entire life.

Finally people showed up. The Barnes and Noble people, the 14 year-old super fans, and one twenty-something girl who made me feel like an even bigger dork than I already did. What's worse is that, in spite of my acknowledgment of said dorkiness, I was PROUD. I talked to the 14 year-olds. They thought I looked awesome. So I'm chatting with them, in a room full of lonely women, when I see a group come in from the corner of my eye.

It's 20 year old guys. Like a whole band of them, and the one girl who seems to have drug every one of them along. And then... Edward... Bahaha. They come in and sit down behind me. I get up to use the restroom. As I walk by, one of Edward's friends whispers Bella after me and tells me I look perfect.

When I came back from the restroom, some girls had come in and taken my seat. I left no sign I had been sitting there. So I sat next to the Edward clan. I look to my right and the best-looking Jane and Victoria I have ever seen are sitting two seats from me. Victoria even had that big white fury thing on.
And what?
"Woah, you even have red eyes! You look great."-says me.
Victoria turns to me and gives me the look of death.
Oh.
What?
Is she in character?
Or just a huge creep?

The judges called up the Edward lookalikes. I knew who my Edward was going to be. They asked if any of them wanted to give an Edward-speech. They were all dumb boys, and just said, "I'm Edward Cullen. Blah." I wanted more than anything in the world to storm up and do a scene with Edward. I was feeling theatrical. But I didn't. I didn't know what Edward would think of it. Haha. He won, easily. And when he came to sit back down, he sat right next to me. Like we were together. I liked that. Lol.

Then the Bellas went up. I went first, and stormed on stage to do what I had wanted to do with Edward: the I-know-what-you-are scene. I should have been nervous. I had never acted; I was in a room full of people I didn't know; I was dressed up as a teenie-bop movie character... But I wasn't nervous. I won.

Then the Victoria-girl won the female costume contest. She freaked me out a little. But after she won, she got really friendly with me, asked to take pictures with me and stuff. I think she was in character before.

That's about it.

Until! My roommate when to the midnight showing with me, since she helped me win the tickets. And she met Edward, blah blah, movie, blah blah. The end of my beautiful cast.

Then two days later she ran into the apartment after her guitar class. Apparently Edward is in her same guitar section. And is horrified that some girl who actually knows him in real life can testify of his lapse in general coolness by showing up to such an event.

My walk: line by line.

Nature writes its own poem today.

There is literally cotton snowing sideways in the field.

I can begin to feel the upsetting art in me.

A question: What do you think about in your greatest moments?

Here is clean. I want the messy woods. I want a chaos of trees.

An answer: There doesn’t need to be something wrong for a person to seek solitude.

There is no better moment than when I am alone in my own voice, listening only to my own thoughts.

They read me poems.

They see the world in its exquisite disorder.

They remind me of how richly, how heavily, how excruciatingly human I can feel.

There, the words stop. Can you feel me yet?

Because if you don’t feel it by now, if you haven’t felt it yourself, no one can explain it to you. Not me.

You are a stranger to your own romance, then.

A thought: I don’t want to see another human right now.

But one…

Because I don’t want to speak or hear.

At all.

And we just cannot stop it.

Save for these walks.

Just leave me alone to my art.

My maddening love.

My leaf and this pen—and I will write my heart onto it.

A turn: I cannot help but take the more beautiful one, even if it will get me lost in a place wanting desires.

It had them once, this turn.

Now a conspicuous void.

A memory: The problem is that we own this place.

A break: Do you ever have an indescribable feelings that drive you again and again to this spot, to your attempts to frame it? Ones that overwhelm you and keep you from moving. Ones that paralyze you in the grass while you watch the clouds. Ones that you ever recognize but can never identify?

A question: What are you doing?

An answer: I appear to be lying down, but I am actually writing a poem, collecting myself, doing exactly what I must, thinking, feeling, listening to classical music, monitoring the clouds, honoring the yearning inside me, watching ballet…

A wave: Everything is falling behind me the same way as I pass it all.

A correction: Ah! Alas, I had to see a someone, but she was barefoot and picking at a tree. A kindred spirit.

my gLee

I was walking home from some place on campus and there was a drunk kid singing/yelling "Don't stop believin". I turned to look at him because I thought it was just about the greatest thing you could do when you're drunk and fearless, but he probably thought I was sizing him up... He complimented my backpack. (It was dark out and he probably couldn't even see it but enough to note that I was wearing one...) I complimented his singing.

As I walked away he kept on going, and I turned back around and started shouting/singing back Lea Michelle's parts. :) Oh, night.

Notes from the Hunger Banquet

I think it's worth noting that the opening prayer was given in Japanese, and that it was one of the most memorable prayers I ever felt.
Many people throw up their hands and say that hunger is a huge problem that will never be stopped, or advanced upon, but it can be. The poor are not helpless. They are hardworking, HOPEFUL, merely lacking in circumstance.
Belief, Faith, Hope, Charity: has the power of these four heroes ever been so underestimated? Progress hit no brick wall when we discovered the "new world". When we geographically quit expanding, we did not lose the opportunity to start over, to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. We GAINED that power. We earned the means to become men of principle, rather than men of land. We earned the resources to help others, and not simply look out for ourselves. The pioneers are not extinct; they have found higher ground to conquer: humanity.
There is no "other" kind of people. There are no Americans and Africans and Arabs and Canadians. There are men and women and children, and dignity therein. Potential doesn't belong only to the rich. It is everywhere. In everyone. And there is power in those who believe that.
Let's change the world singing "Hare Krshna" and dancing and smiling.
Let's look back on our college years and be proud of what we were starting.

Then in closing:
"We pray that we will be able to carry these messages with us for the rest of our lives."

And the VMA goes to...

Pipe-cleaner hearts.

Today I bent up about 50 neon pipe-cleaners into the shape of hearts and hung them on little branches around campus as I walked from class to class. Solicited many smiles this way, but I'm pretty sure I also gave my name to an administrator who may or may not be out to get me for this. She seemed legitimately "foofy" in some respects, claiming that she was going home to blog about this later, smiley, wondering what made me want to do this... But--she also (for some reason) asked for my name. Sketchy. I know she's going to turn me in, whether that's to the Vandy authorities or into a blog entry, remains to be seen. At any rate, she sort of ruined my fairy-mood with the implicit threat of human practicality.

Why? There is no why. I just wanted to hang hearts on the bare twigs. It's my way of loving people.

My consolation was that when I finished and went back to my room, I saw a girl-photographer already taking advantage of what I had done. I wanted to thank her for understanding, but that would have positively ruined what I was doing.

Who knows from whence magic comes?
Who needs to?

Thank you for understanding.

RAHHHHHHH

Clayton cancelled. He "doesn't like cameras" and doesn't know how I got him to agree in the first place. BUMMMMMMMERRRR. But filming went awesomely in spite of his bail. Just... yeah, somewhat disappointed.

I'm especially sorry to Casey, Justin, and Abelle.

Sequel of "The VandyEdward" Installment.

Do you remember VandyEdward?
I'm sure you do... Silly question.

Hayden, Erin (new girl in the ward), and I are making a music video for a church activity coming up. To be honest, we've all been itching to make one anyway, and this just gave us the final push to get on with it already. We were struggling to come up with a song, when wonderful-wonderful Hayden says to me: "What about 'Decode' by Paramore--the Twilight song?" I immediately and without any control over it became maniacally excited and in a fit of joy that I think I blacked out for, I text my friend Clayton.
That's right people--the Vandy Edward himself. (haha, sorry I'm so theatrical, I'm just trying to help you find the pocket of excitement which are my insides right now. Moving on...) What did I say to him, proper and correct and seemingly unfoolish Clayton?
Stupid: I straight up ask him. And tell him my happiness depends on it.
Oh gosh.
But wait: He says, "Then it's settled. As long as I don't have to do anything too unreasonable." (key word here for me is "too". Something moderately unreasonable is okay, right?) And then, "What is it I'm supposed to do?"
Already I am climbing up the never-ending beanstalk of excitement and am much too far up to come down, and I cannot fathom him rejecting my proposal anymore. So I blurt it out: "Haha. Um... Well... We are planning on playing up the fact that you look like that vampire guy ((casual sounding, no? :))) and that I look slightly like the girl."
Him: "Oh... I should have known. Where is it being distributed?"
Me: "Just some people from my church"
Him: "Oh, ok. Should be alright then."
Me: WIN-OF-LIFE.

So basically: At the many requests of Anabelle and Casey, I am finally going to be able to share him with you via online media. And how better to do that than to put him in the context in which he belongs? (There is no better way. FYI)

Week one.

Yesterday was my first 15 minute date with the sky. It started out exactly how I wanted it, perfect. I was just lying there completely in control of my thoughts and everything else.

Then an emergency helicopter flew diagonal across my view.
And I thought: What a different world I occupy right now. I am lying flat on the earth caring about nothing and thinking about how beautiful the world is.
And in that helicopter... something else. Something hard and stressful and out of control. Something miserable.
And I was allowed to walk away from my reality, even this pleasant one I created on the grass spot, as soon as I felt 15 minutes go by. And that helicopter had no right to a new agenda. The person inside, the people?, would have in an instant chosen the reality I just left. And this to them, this glorious grass spot, went by the wayside in my life when I rolled over to grab my bag and go home.

And now... I'm typing on my blog, while wondering what the last 34 hours have done for the person in that helicopter. I hope he/she is okay. I really really do.

i resolve.

I decided to stop being a cynic about New Year's Resolutions.

Mine is to stare at the sky for 15 minutes every week. To spend 750 minutes this year laying flat on the earth thinking about nothing else. I think that by stopping to not-think, I might learn something, might tap into some sort of awareness that's was written into the constellations before Adam. I can imagine it. And I know that I'm very far from that point right now, but I want to get there. And I want to be able to sit and call it out from the middle of myself, and just feel aware. I want to eliminate all the false dichotomies in the world and become familiar with the correctness of the universe. The answer that is literally hanging over my head all my life. I want to find it, then own it.
Besides all this, I just really like the sky. I think he and I can become friends.

Pedro Jose Ortega Espinal

Dasha and I are trying to decide if my life is real, and if it is, then why?

I'm currently engaged in a month-long project with a couple of friends in which we take on picture per day. The photo is supposed to be of whatever strikes us during the day, whatever we find that is hidden and extraordinary.

So today, I was walking around with my camera in-hand after a bronze statue of Margaret Branscomb that I had passed an hour earlier while delivering inter-departmental envelopes. It was pouring, so water was rolling off of her like her entire being was crying. I was stricken. But on my way to go take this photo, a man crossed my path, and walked passed me. He was gorgeous. Here's the weird part, he stopped on his heel and turned back around to ask me a question.

I thought I died, then I came to the very quick realization that I had no idea what he had just said to me. Wha??? His words were lost in a beautiful Latin accent. I awkwardly search for the words I am looking for, fidgeting wildly and just being generally pathetic. Then I remember the words, "I'm sorry, what?" He repeats and I discern that he either wants a picture with me or of me or for me to take a picture of him. He gets his camera out and hands it to me, removing the ambiguity, explaining that he's going back to his country soon, but would like some photos as a momento. So I took some.
End of our story? Goodbye lovely foreigner.

Then he, remembering the camera in my hands asks me if he could take my picture to "repay me for my work". Pahaha. I, again, misunderstand him and so I say sure without knowing quite what I'm agreeing to. He offers to take my camera, which again, clears things up. He takes his pictures of me standing in incredibly awkward poses, and as I'm walking back over to him to grab my camera, takes one more. This one stops him and he notes aloud, "This is the one. You have a beautiful smile."

And that is how Brittany Bailey died.

I suddenly notice that he's not just beautiful and adorable in all foreign ways, but that he's sophisticated and makes me feel even younger and even awkwarder in his presence. Get a hold of yourself, Brittany.

Small talk: I learn he's from the Dominican Republic. He also tells me his travel plans, for what reason I cannot fathom. He's going to Pennsylvania tomorrow, but coming back from the 16th to the 22nd and then returning to the D.R. His Vanderbilt office is in Calhoun. He might apply here for a PhD program.

Then he gives me his card, points out the phone number and leaves.

The most astonishing thing, to me, about this story is how awkward I am for the entire duration of this exchange. I only reason that, with our apparent cultural disconnect, he assumed that girlishness was an eccentricity. Whatever. I can't call him, Dasha said he'll try to seduce me because he's 25ish and gorgeous and foreign. And I'm an American girl.

And that is why Dasha wants to take my life.

The end.

invincibility

Hayden and me. We were feeling invincible just because we left campus in blazers, home-made tees, and some ridiculous glasses. After we put these on, anything we felt like doing would be considered "normal and acceptable" for a person dressed "like that". Who knows what we're capable of, if such bold attire...? No one, not even us. All we know is that when we do something bizarre and dangerous, we will be fine.

Edward-theory end.

I hate for this to be the topic to follow the last one, but it's Edward.
He likes classical music.

This is the end of Edward-theory. I revealed him to himself and let him know that he looks like Rob Pattinson. We had dinner and talked for 2 hours; it was bound to come up... So at any rate, he has ceased to be so much of a mysterious curiosity and more of a real person, but that is more valuable anyway...

Adieu, conspiracy, adieu.

Edward Update.

Yesterday Edward came to sit with me and Chris again. Well, actually he came over to us, set his drink down and walked away--presumably to go grab the rest of his stuff. Only... He never came back. Chris and I just sat wondering what had happened to him. When we decided he wasn't coming back, I decided to confide Clayton's secret to Chris.

me: Do you know anything about the Twilight movie?
Chris: Um, a little. Like what?
me: Do you know what the main guy looks like?
Chris: Oh, yeah.
me: Do you see the resemblance between Clayton and that guy?
Chris: Haha, yeah. He hears that all the time. He says he hates it.
me: ... Glad I talked to you about this before I talked to him.

So I think. It's feasible that he did in fact know the entire time what I was thinking. And possibly playing it up a little on purpose. It's the only logical explanation I can come up with. Anyway, now that I know. I can play mind games too.
Any ideas on acting Bella-esque?
The only possible downfall here is that he's not playing mind games at all. And it was just coincidence, or he really is a vampire. In which case, I should think about this before I start acting like a girl he'll fall in love with. Do I want that? I think so. Haha.
Still, give me ideas.

the unofficial edward of vandy.

So my first week at Vandy I saw this guy whose striking resemblance to Rob Pattinson cannot be exaggerated. Vandy Edward dresses exquisitely, blazers, vests, scarves, every day of the freakin week.
It goes without saying that I made it a goal that I would become friends with him... Failure wasn't an option. To my great satisfaction, I discovered that I had become friends with someone (Chris) who was friends with VandyEdward. One morning, a serendipitous miracle occured in which I found myself sitting at a table with Chris and VandyEdward. Our first conversation went as follows:
me: [I sit down and look at him overeagerly because I know this secret about him.] "Hi. I'm Brittany."
VandyEdward: [Just looks at me and smiles... LIKE HE KNOWS THAT I HAVE THIS GIRLISH IDEA OF HIM. Note-VandyEdward doesn't introduce himself to me. I still don't know his name.]
me: [Thinking to self- "Crap. He's reading my mind. and I'm only thinking up retarded conspiracy theories about him being a vampire." I continue smiling and ask Chris about a math concept that I need help with.]
I run off to class texting Anabelle feverishly to tell her that I finally managed to meet Edward. She wants a picture. Edward and I aren't close enough for that yet. Far from it, as one can tell, because I still have to call him my his nickname. Thus: Goal Status: Underway, not yet attained.

My second time meeting him I decided that since he clearly wasn't going to admit anything I would just have to observe with elaborate scrutiny his every action and side conversation. Get this though... HE sat down next to ME. Granted, I was sitting with Chris again... Which Edward clearly used as a justification for sitting with me since he would have otherwise felt to uncomfortable to sit with me (ie. be alone with me and my delicious blood).
This particular morning I notice that, once again Edward is only drinking coffee. NO FOOD. Obviously he has a tendency to like hot drinks, and conveniently enough, coffee is darker than blood. It would be only too easy to dye blood black and call it socially acceptable to drink in public.
He sits down. And this time, I'm prepared for his mind games. I ask him for his name ("Sorry, I don't remember what you said you're name was..."). His name is Clayton.

The third breakfast. Scene opens. I'm sitting with Chris. Edward/Clayton is sitting in the same secluded spot as he was the previous two breakfasts. How had I not noticed this before? He avoids eating and socializing with humans. Except for me and Chris. Mostly Chris, but again, this is all just a fantastic strategy to get to "know" me. This breakfast is normal. Coffee again. Two cups. He's wearing a blazer that I wouldn't have had enough fashion sense to pick out.

Morning four. Chris skips breakfast. BUT Edward and I have spoken on 3 different occasions by this time, so perhaps it is time to take the relationship to the next level. I go to the secluded table. Of course he's there. I sit down.
me: [after some preliminary chit-chat] "I saw this morning that it was 45 degrees out, so I bundled up a little." (or some variation of this)
Edward: "I love the cold. I come to breakfast really early in the morning when no one is in here just to enjoy the cold and quiet." (again, a variation)
me: (to self- "?!?!?!"). Really? You wake yourself up for that?
Edward: "I don't like to sleep very much."
me: (to self- "This isn't real. Seriously? It's like he's trying.") [Silence].
Edward: "So how are you liking the cold weather?"
me: (I think I died.)

So far, this is it. If I go missing, you'll know why...

meteor shower up north...

Casey called last night at 11. She asked if "I had any plans tonight between 1 and 5 am?" Believe it or not, I didn't. So she invited me to go to Flagstaff with her and Abelle to watch a meteor shower. We went. And had a wonderful little breakfast with Arthur and his roommate Andrew the next morning.

On the way home we hit one of Sedona's thrift stores up. I found a really spectacular little outfit. When I tried it on, an elderly man told me that the outfit looked like it popped out of a 1950's Sears catalog. So i bought it. I had to. I plan on wearing it with red lipstick and thinking of my favorite blogger Taza often and fondly whenever I wear it.

P.S. It was $7. I know. I know. Pictures to come??