How to Build a Beautiful Fort: Quest #7 in Review

Hey guys! So last night we built probably one of the best forts mankind will ever see! It was so much fun. Forts are perfect for snuggling up in, having deep conversations, and basically laughing til you die.

Step 1: Gather an extensive collection of goodies and movies to watch. Our movies were “Clueless” and “Dirty Dancing” (I don’t care if Patrick Swayze’s dead, he can still completely ruin all of our future relationships by building ridiculous expectations)*.

Here’s our food (notice the cookie dough is already ripped open):

I think it’s necessary that we state all the things we bought. Alright here we go: 5 cartons of Ben&Jerry’s, 1 carton of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, Double Stuf Oreos, 2 packages of cookie dough, packages of York pieces, Sour Patch Kids, a carton of Whoppers, a box of Smart Pop Pocorn and a box of reduced fat Cheez-its (yea, we know we’re super healthy), a huge bag of m&ms, a box of fruit rolls-ups (they’re fruity and thus healthy…right?), a package of mini Reese’s, Hot Cheetos, Lemon Drops, and Little Debbie’s Chocolate cupcakes. Oh, and this was before we ordered pizza…..

Just so you guys know…we didn’t even make a dent in all of this food. And trust me, we tried super hard.

Step 2: Gather the sheets and hang them from things. We hung one giant sheet from the fan and draped the rest on top of that. 

Step 3: Add loads of pillows and soft blankets. 

Step 4: Distribute lights. We used two strands of battery-powered flower lights purchased from the Guggenheim in Bilbao, but Christmas lights would also work if you have access to a plug.

STEP 5: PARTYYYYYYYY!

Our fort didn’t collapse on us in the morning, but a few key pieces did end up falling every which way. It was still basically the most epic thing ever.

Loads of Love

-E&P

*Note: If you watch Dirty Dancing you will probably spend the rest of the night talking about Patrick Swayze’s unbelievable sexiness and wistfully wishing you could dance.

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Sharing the Burden

“One weak, one strong. One scared, one bold. I was beginning to understand though, that there is no such thing as absolutes, not in people, not in life. Like Owen said, it was day by day, if not moment by moment. All you can do is take on as much weight as you can bear. And if you’re lucky, there’s someone close enough to shoulder the rest.” -Sarah Dessen Just Listen

Kisses,

P

10 Reasons That I Love E

Hey ya’ll! E is busy being a studious IB student and slaving away on her second World Lit paper due this week. So I’m writing a post to cheer her up (:

10. She is an amazing painter/artist and is always making, drawing, or doodling beautiful things.

9. She has an amazing personality—she is truly a good person. She never speaks bad about anyone and she is SO kind.

8. She is really creative. She’s always coming up with new ideas and plans and things to do and I love that about her—it means there’s never a dull day in our friendship (:

7. She is freaking GOOD at baseball/softball. Like, she should play in the major leagues.

6. #7 was actually a complete joke, but I had to somehow work in that E managed to get a black eye playing softball for an intramural team…I doubt any of YOUR best friends can manage to be that awesome.

5. She writes this blog with me and goes on random quests and adventures. And on Tuesday lunches she is the perfect combination of hilarious and consolatory.

4. She is very thoughtful, always considering others people’s feelings and opinions and she is very aware of how people feel around her. She has a knack for bettering people’s days.

3. She’s freaking smart. NUFF SAID. (Okay wait, I have to add more. She’s read like every book and ever and is the perfect person to go to for book recommendations.)

2. Together we are unstoppable. We’re warriors, we’re superwomen, we’re PB&J. We’re soulmates and BFFLS! E brings out the best in all of the people around her, especially me(:

1. She is compassionate, brave, and honest. She’s drop dead gorgeous, witty, and extraordinary. And the most amazing best friend anyone could ask for. But I guess the number one reason I love E is because she’s my sister.

-P

Lucid Dreaming: Quest #6 in Review

“I’ll see you somewhere in dreamland… Somewhere in dreamland tonight…”

For those of you unfamiliar with strange vintage cartoons, the picture above is taken from a 1936 short film about children during the Great Depression. After picking up firewood and eating flat bread and water, they escape to dreamland where they eat all the goodies they want. It has a nice ending that I won’t give away. It’s actually pretty entertaining, and instructive as to how dreams are windows into what we really want or feel. 

Here’s a link to the adorable cartoon:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZB4M1OYaPCQ&feature=fvst

Priyanka and I did not exactly master lucid dreaming this week. However, by thinking and talking about our dreams, and keeping dream journals, we learned a lot about ourselves. We used a combination of dreammoods.com and our own insight to analyze our dreams. As far as lucid dreaming goes, I think I was aware I was in a dream for about a second two days ago, but then woke up. This seems to be one of those quests that we can keep working on. 

See you in dreamland!

E

Dreams

So while I was taking a nice little nap today I had a dream and I actually remembered it! E and I got to analyzing it and there were tons of details and stuff. The one thing that was crazy is that in my dream in the room on the wall there was a quote that said, “I suppose I love this life, in spite of my clenched fist.” And E found out that its part of a poem!!! The poem is absolutely beautiful. Here it is.

For Jenn
  
At 12 years old I started bleeding with the moon
and beating up boys who dreamed of becoming astronauts.
I fought with my knuckles white as stars,
and left bruises the shape of Salem.
There are things we know by heart,
and things we don’t. 
 
At 13 my friend Jen tried to teach me how to blow rings of smoke.
I’d watch the nicotine rising from her lips like halos,
but I could never make dying beautiful.
The sky didn’t fill with colors the night I convinced myself
veins are kite strings you can only cut free.
I suppose I love this life,
 
in spite of my clenched fist.
 
I open my palm and my lifelines look like branches from an Aspen tree,
and there are songbirds perched on the tips of my fingers,
and I wonder if Beethoven held his breath
the first time his fingers touched the keys
the same way a soldier holds his breath
the first time his finger clicks the trigger.
We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
 
But my lungs remember
the day my mother took my hand and placed it on her belly
and told me the symphony beneath was my baby sister’s heartbeat.
And I knew life would tremble
like the first tear on a prison guard’s hardened cheek,
like a prayer on a dying man’s lips,
like a vet holding a full bottle of whisky like an empty gun in a war zone…
just take me      just take me
 
Sometimes the scales themselves weigh far too much,
the heaviness of forever balancing blue sky with red blood.
We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways,
but you still have to call it a birthday.
You still have to fall for the prettiest girl on the playground at recess
and hope she knows you can hit a baseball
further than any boy in the whole third grade
 
and I’ve been running for home
through the windpipe of a man who sings
while his hands playing washboard with a spoon
on a street corner in New Orleans
where every boarded up window is still painted with the words
We’re Coming Back
like a promise to the ocean
that we will always keep moving towards the music,
the way Basquait slept in a cardboard box to be closer to the rain.
 
Beauty, catch me on your tongue. 
Thunder, clap us open.
The pupils in our eyes were not born to hide beneath their desks.
Tonight lay us down to rest in the Arizona dessert,
then wake us washing the feet of pregnant women
who climbed across the border with their bellies aimed towards the sun.
I know a thousand things louder than a soldier’s gun.
I know the heartbeat of his mother.
 
Don’t cover your ears, Love.
Don’t cover your ears, Life.
There is a boy writing poems in Central Park
and as he writes he moves
and his bones become the bars of Mandela’s jail cell stretching apart,
and there are men playing chess in the December cold
who can’t tell if the breath rising from the board
is their opponents or their own,
and there’s a woman on the stairwell of the subway
swearing she can hear Niagara Falls from her rooftop in Brooklyn,
and I’m remembering how Niagara Falls is a city overrun
with strip malls and traffic and vendors
and one incredibly brave river that makes it all worth it. 
 
Ya’ll, I know this world is far from perfect.
I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon.
I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic.
But every ocean has a shoreline
and every shoreline has a tide
that is constantly returning
to wake the songbirds in our hands, 
to wake the music in our bones,
to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that brave river
that has to run through the center of our hearts
to find its way home.

-Andrea Gibson

Kisses and Hugs,

P