kitsjay: (Default)
Two sweet stories:

Two nights ago as I was walking along my route at 12:30 at night or so, I walked past a pretty older woman. I smiled at her, as you do passing someone, and she smiled back.

"Be careful!" she cautioned me, continuing on her way.

The second happened last night. It was about 1:00 in the morning, perfectly quiet and still, and I swung my legs over the guard-rail of one of the fountains on campus. The fountain cascades over pools staggered on top of each other like steps, so that I was sitting next to one pool and it was a ten-foot drop or so to the next one below me. It's incredibly peaceful.

As I was sitting there, kicking my heels against the stone, a security guard walked past, hands behind her back as if out for a contemplative stroll.

"Hi," she said, almost shyly.

I smiled warmly. "Hi."

She continued walking, then paused slightly. "You're not planning on jumping or anything, right?" she said uncertainly.

"No," I said laughing.

"Good!"

So, completely random, but charming nonetheless. People are completely different in the wee hours of the morning.

And, because I can, a poem:

I caught this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, - the achieve of, the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

--Gerard Manley Hopkins
kitsjay: (Default)
I wish to be as witty as Dorothy Parker,
As sensational as Zsa Zsa Gabor,
As darling as Audrey Hepburn—
But mostly I wish,
Never, ever to be poor.


*bows*
kitsjay: (Default)
Instead of a poem, I offer a toast:
When we drink, we get drunk.
When we get drunk, we fall asleep.
When we fall asleep, we commit no sin.
When we commit no sin, we go to heaven.
So, let's all get drunk, and go to heaven!



or, for those you don't like:

May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we'll know them by their limping.


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St. Patrick's Day is an enchanted time -- a day to begin transforming winter's dreams into summer's magic.
Adrienne Cook

This is one race of people for whom psychoanalysis is of no use whatsoever.
Sigmund Freud (about the Irish)

Only Irish coffee provides in a single glass all four essential food groups: alcohol, caffeine, sugar, and fat.
Alex Levine

In Ireland the inevitable never happens and the unexpected constantly occurs.
Sir John Pentland Mahaffy

On she went, and her maiden smile
In safety lighted her round the Green Isle;
And blest forever was she who relied
Upon Erin's honor and Erin's pride.
Thomas Moore

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kitsjay

January 2014

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