Check this out. If you ever need a new hobby:

Cheese ‘n rice.

My Rome project movie trailer will be posted tomorrow! Keep on ze lookout, jah?

Graceee

thedw.us

Grace

PS: Has anyone seen or ordered this Palin paraphernalia?

]]> http://www.hearandsay.com/blogs/surprize/feed/ 0 http://www.hearandsay.com/uncategorized/never-surrender/ http://www.hearandsay.com/uncategorized/never-surrender/#comments Sat, 06 Mar 2010 19:26:14 +0000 admin http://www.hearandsay.com/?p=540

Deceptionz

I’m in Sorrento.

Oh, the coast is gorgeous. It makes me sad, how gorgeous it is. I wish I could actually believe it exists; everything looks so untouchably Hollywood. I feel like someone produced those cliffs. Er, and casted the locals to be so charming…

The blankets that currently cover me are fire-proof.

Which brings me to my next point. Cara, being the worry-warted Wendy, always thinks about escape plans in any kind of situation.

Standing on the train platform: If I fell onto the pit of train tracks, I’d climb the fence and held on tight on the other side before clambering back onto the track pit.

Tunnel during earthquake: TBA

So today, we made a plan for the Apocalypse. In Meagan’s words, I will “find the light” and crawl towards it. Cara will tend to Meagan’s wounds, and with our powers Intelligence and Dry Humor we will defeat any challenge at hand.

This is all assuming we have these powers, but as you probably guess we indulge ourselves in these assessments.

12/12/12, people. Gotta be prepared. The Boyscouts might have to step it up.

Ha.

Well, what would YOU do? Haven’t you wondered about these morbid plans of escape?

Grace

What Would Aslan Do

Imagine the possibilities.

You have ten people, randomly chosen from anywhere, everywhere in the world.

It’s the scene from The Magician’s Nephew.You’re in an ancient, crumbling building, with large, tomb-like columns; a large hallway leads your curious cat-mind into a chamber of echoes, tall, distant ceilings, and a faint, flat light.

The ten people stand before you. Still as statues. Yet life-like; eerily poised;

Their expressions are surprisingly vivid, and their eyes are pools of thought. You can look and peer into them, and discover their most intimate emotions:

; what it felt like for them to climb a tree in crisp, fall weather; their callouses rubbing against the bark, the smell of leaves as they crackle and crumble; the strength of their grip as they reached for the skies;

; the smell of their dusty luggage;

; the texture and pull when they’re combing their hair;

; how the person they admire makes them feel when they approach each other, cautiously– in an empty hallway;

; the turmoil of their first kiss;

; how it feels when they smile;

; the depths of their thoughts when they become keen of their mortality;

And you realize how similar everyone is, how the boundaries of individuality are gently erased by the smallest, most humane moments (the catch in your throat as you step out into a windy day), and that nothing in between is formidable enough to remind us of our collective humanity.

Imagine the possibilities of someone else’s life. The knots in their stomach, or their greatest happiness swelling in their chest. Is it so hard to forgive anyone? It’s not so hard as it seems.

, , ,

Gra

ce

eee

choo

Dear Seattle, you have my flannel heart…

So I’m in Roma, still. The land of muscular jaws, Armani-Exchange stubble, and proud tans. Of surprisingly short men, who are all talk…but really, this city isn’t all about the male specimen. I’m not obsessing. Or complaining…I might be complaining, I miss Seattle boys. They might not smell as nice, but I’ve never complained about that…

TWO WEEKS ’til I come back! I know I shouldn’t already be reminiscing about Seattle, or Roma, and I should just rejoice in the moment (arms of joy! flail those arms of joy!) but what’s life without the spice of angst? It’s nothing; no, it’s an episode of Friends. It’s fettuccine from Maggiano’s– bland butter in a swamp of noodles.Yeeeck.

So here’s to the cusp of spring; of the beautiful happy, the gorgeous sad, the silent contentedness of cool evenings. I can’t wait to see you, Sir Tomorrow. Because you’ll probably have a nice coni of gelato waiting for me…

If I don’t puke from my own cheesiness.

Gracious

In the fascinating plot of my Real Life, I have this terrible class that could potentially be super cool/hip/relevant (and whatever sarcastic adjectives hipsterrunoff can think of) but … isn’t. The teacher works as a Father in the Vatican for his “day job”, but I don’t think that sort of job has shifts, hm? Besides, isn’t the point to give your life up to Him? How is it possible to partition/pick and choose? Anyway, students in the class feel as if his biases and opinions are becoming obstacles to teaching objectives; whether or not that be the case, the point is that they feel that way, so there must be something a-wry…

To end on a better note, start hopping on that waiting list for your Robert Pattinson pillow-man.

TUH

Doesn’t even look like him.

Your team.

Graceee

calls for some gelato

gelaattooooo

YUM TIME
G

ps i miss u tara