I am blogging from my living room. It's so warm from the heater and I could not be more thankful that I have a bed in the next room over in a warm space away from the frigid outdoors. Today was one of those days that if you didn't know it was December, you would have woken up, looked outside, and just assumed it was May and sunny. The sun was out from behind the four days worth of cloudy/rainy-ness and was shining just enough to tease me, when I walked outside and realized immediately what a bitterly cold day I was entering into. It was freezing, to say the least. Anyway, Brett and I went to our favorite juice shop and got a huge raspberry smoothie to share and then we headed over to Walgreens to attempt to develop my year and a half old film. I have two rolls that I decided to wait forever to develop for the sake of pure excitement when you finally get it done and don't remember taking any of the pictures. It's Kodak black and white 36 film, and come to find out Walgreens, nor Target, nor Wal-Mart develop that kind of B&W film anymore. Needless to say, I got really psyched up for total disappointment. Hoping to check in at the local camera store in the next day or so to see if they can help me out, otherwise I'm going to have to figure out how to develop these pictures myself. There's an unmatched feeling you get when you initially get your hands on the prints of the pictures you took with a film camera. The digital age has certainly spoiled us, and I can't complain because I would be nothing without my digital camera, but I truly wish there was some sort of film revival that could happen. I would definitely want to be a part of that.

Speaking of revival. I was talking to my friend, Austin, today. We both agree there needs to be a poetry revival in this generation. Poetry has lost so much attention (not that I ever knew of a time where it had more attention) but I wish schools, English teachers, writers, America would place more emphasis on poetry. Why has poetry become something that a lot of people do, but no one ever wants to share? Poetry is personal, deep, private. Lots of people write poetry in their journals or diaries but would never admit it or show any one. But poetry is the way we express so much in such few words; the way we connect in the white space. There is poetry going on before us every day of our lives; in the very way our breath dyes the air a dusty white when we exhale outside in the cold, or the familiarity of your sister's voice, or the way our sinks run cold clean water every time we turn them on. How beautiful is that? My English students are going to love me someday, aren't they? (Not. I will ramble on and on about poetry all day long.)

The rest of my day was spent working and cooking myself dinner when I got home. I am anxiously awaiting Saturday night's Christmas dinner with my best friends, Sunday's Christmas with my boyfriend's family, and then Monday when we head to Colorado for my first ever ski trip. There will be much too much to post about on this Christmas break! I will leave you with a poem of mine:

She would sit in the light all day long

Her body grew more on the right side than the left

Due to the direction the sun hit

Sometimes she favored the rain

And would swallow it through her toes

Other days the earth spun too fast

And the sun was white

And its stay was short

My how she longed for summer

Just like the school children

When the light got tangled in her lemonade eyes

And for months all she would see were diamonds