I shut my eyes

Someone I know IRL has committed to match half of whatever you donate towards a Compassion child's sponsorship fees.


That means if you can come up with $58 each month, with his contribution it'll be $86. $86 is enough to sponsor two children.

You gave $50 in the first day. So...you're pretty close.

I tend to think that once you commit to something a little too big, you sort of grow into it and find a way.

Shall we go for it? Two children?

***
I was this girl
wrapped up in a yoga mat and smuggled into your meeting
Tell me your secrets I said
You laughed in coalition and said
Eat our flesh, drink our blood, don't stop being merry

***

Returning to [my college] always stirs up a mania for collecting props. If I only have the right props--two copper bangles--a yoga mat--woollen tights--perfume, even though I don't wear perfume--one-and-a-half pounds of roasted chickpeas. If I only have the right props, exactly the right props and not a thing more, I will have the right semester. I know, it's not true.

We have to do a film critique this weekend for one of my sociology classes. I've picked the movie Taken. I'm going to tear it apart and I'm going to enjoy myself.

It's always a little dismaying to find that a person transferred onto a blog doesn't always make more sense there than in, well, person. Me, for example. I would like to post about Australia, post about how great you are for stepping up to the plate so quickly for Jeanima, then maybe some posts I've been saving, and then I could write about now. Now is always more interesting for me to write about though.

Now...I'm saying to myself, Stop being so angsty and weird, Holly. You don't have to do everything. People like you. You can sleep a little less. Have some cinnamon bread. Learn, learn, learn, Holly.