gotta see, gotta be

Two poems I wrote this semester:

Roommate

She is brushing her hair in the dark
the light from my bedroom makes shadows
I watch her from my desk. Does she know
how beautiful she is, the mirror
we can barely see reflecting her
only slightly? It’s hard to see her
but I realize she’s smiling at me
while I stare and wonder, reflecting
on her reflection. I smile back, and
our mirror interaction holds us,
for merely a second, together
then she leaves. Her hair is smooth and sleek
and I return to my work once more.

Sunday Afternoon
The leaves are crunching underneath her feet,
they hiss and rattle with each step;
she’s ankle-deep, and weeping as she walks,
her face a tragic portrait. Tears go dripping down
to fall on dress, on shoes, on ground—
her heart is broken. Those who pass her on the path
know not to reach a hand or look away
so gaze at leaves, their bright and vivid colors
the purpose for the expedition on this day.
A pity she who cries can’t see them.
Her eyes are blurred too much with tears.


Yep. Now I'm going to keep working on my story.

"Hope on Fire" ~ Vienna Teng

dead of night how bright you glow

The moon and I had a chat the other night. I've always felt a special little affinity for the moon; she's a lot like me (and not just because of the name). Thursday night I was driving home from work and she had just risen over the mountains, about halfway up the sky. Wreathed in clouds and illuminating them so that half the sky was bright, she was full. (Awkward sentence much?) Her light was persistent, distracting me from the road and urging me to look at her, look at all the cool things she can do in the sky with those clouds.

I could hardly look away. I tend to be a dangerous driver just because nature is so lovely (when my essay is finished, I'll post it here and you can have another example of that). I even stopped at the store even though I didn't buy anything, just so I could look at the moon for a couple more minutes.

After work I went back to school. I had assignments to complete and the buildings don't open until six in the morning, so an evening job I went to. It didn't work out (my lab protocols rarely work out) and I was a little disheartened as I left campus.

The moon was high in the sky, shining down like a little spotlight. "Don't be sad," she seemed to be saying. "Look at me!"

I did. But you can't walk very far with your neck craned all the way up, so I didn't watch for long. It was so much smaller than it had been earlier. The clouds had all disappeared, and the stars were dull compared to the brilliance of the moon.

The next morning I walked to school just before sunrise. The moon was in the west, large and luminous as before, but in a background of blue rather than black and gray. "Hello," I said. I stole glances at her as often as I could, this new incarnation somehow more beautiful than any of the others. "Remember when I was a spotlight?" the moon still said to me. "I was really bright!"

later on that morning I couldn't help it; I looked for the moon again. once found, though, i had to recoil. This was not my shining companion of the night. She was pale, listless, fading. "I don't want to talk to you," I whispered.

She shrugged, apathetic in this new incarnation. "I'll be bright later on, if you will wait for me."

All I heard from the moon that night was a subtle glow at the rims of the mountains. "i can't wait for you to rise all the way," I said. "I am cold and tired and hungry, and you were so different this morning I don't know if I can face you."

"Maybe later."

"Feather Moon" ~ Vienna Teng

everybody looks so luminous and strangely young

I tried an experiment this week. In Marriage Prep sometime last week we brought up the sad fact that girls have to wear makeup and guys don't. (I talk a lot about marriage prep. It's a good class.) We discussed why that is. I decided to rebel against society and not wear makeup.

Monday was okay. I was dressed in pastels and my hair was down, so it was overall a light effect and I thought, "This isn't so bad. I can do this." Tuesday wasn't as good because my hair fought a little bit with me and I couldn't hide it behind a little bit of makeup (not that I put makeup on my hair, but a prettier face can distract from sloppier hair sometimes), so the overall effect was a little slovenly. Wednesday and Thursday got progressively worse, and Friday I stopped caring and just wore a sweatshirt, completing the "I don't care how I look" appearance.

I was scared for Saturday because I went home for my dad's concert (he's in Craig Jessop's new choir [he used to conduct the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, for those who don't immediately pick up on the name] and they sang Mozart's Requiem, which is a really awesome piece) and my mom's not afraid to tell me that I look ... like I could be improved with the application of some makeup. but she didn't say anything.

That's about the point that I thought that this might all be in my head. Nobody made a comment all week long, and maybe it was just my insecurities that made me feel a lot less attractive than usual. Sunday morning (today) I was excited, but also a little apprehensive. I asked my roommates if they thought I looked respectful enough for the Sabbath, and they didn't even think about the fact I wasn't wearing makeup. They just laughed at my nun clothes. (The word was actually "harvard choir girl" but isn't that about the same thing?)

So now that I know that people don't say anything when I don't wear makeup, what's next?

I'm going to go back to wearing makeup. I didn't feel comfortable talking to people (this includes boys, girls, professors, employers, etc.) because I felt like they were judging me for not enhancing my natural beauty (actually especially girls, because they WERE wearing makeup). I'm a lot more insecure about myself without knowing that I've made at least some effort to look pretty. On one occasion or more I saw someone cute (oh shut up) and they were looking back at me, then I ran away because I didn't want them to see me not at my best. And except for Friday I did try to look at least presentable in my dress.

So that was an interesting experiment. You all should try it sometime. That is, if you're a female that conforms to society mores, which most females at BYU do. I think once I get married and move out of the bubble I will feel more secure about my face without enhancements, but right now it's...not that way.

(I did think my friend Andrew was a lot more handsome that time he came to school with foundation and eyeliner still leftover from the roadshow the night before. Why shouldn't guys wear makeup?)

The end.

"Nothing Without You" ~ Vienna Teng

they're handing out doughnuts and pizza pies

In Preparation for Marriage we do this thing where you sign up for a Friday to bring something that symbolizes what you "bring to the table" in your relationship. Food is preferred, because it's 8 in the morning and people need the extra energy.

So I signed up for a day and started thinking about what I wanted to bring. I had it narrowed down to ham'n'cheese puffs and rolls. I asked my mom and my sister and they both said that our famous rolls would be the best shot. I had some homemade raspberry jam in the fridge, too, that wasn't get used at all because I don't eat bread. So, great, rolls and jam.

But we were supposed to talk about how that showed what we brought to the table in a relationship. People so far had been saying, "We like making these cookies at my house." I wanted to be different. I thought at length about it.

It was about 5 in the morning when I started making the rolls for class that day. I didn't have a whole lot of hope that they would turn out, because I have this weird curse of things I make never looking/tasting the way they should. "That's something I can bring to the relationship," I thought when it didn't look like the rolls were rising. "Failures despite effort."

When it came time to taste the rolls, they seemed to be okay. Actually, they were pretty good. By that time I decided that the real thing I was bringing to the table was raspberry jam, to make me look domestic. The rolls were just to eat the jam with. Of course, I didn't make the jam. But I could've!

(That's what I bring to the table, I thought. Credit-stealing.)

I wanted the rolls to still be warm when I got to class. It was 7:30 and time to leave. I wrapped them in foil and then in two plastic bags to insulate them. Then, to insure that they didn't succumb to the brisk morning air, I stuck the package inside my jacket and wore it to school. I was holding it from the bottom, which looked sort of silly, especially when it started falling out.

"That's it," I decided, head held high against the weird looks I was getting. "I bring to the table a lack of caring what I look like as long as the function is improved. These rolls are not going to be in the best shape ever after their travail against my stomach, but they'll still taste good. And they'll be warm."

So I got to class, displayed the rolls proudly in their foil-and-grocery-bag decor, and was a huge hit.

But the teacher didn't give me the opportunity to say why they represent what I bring to a relationship. I was disappointed, and decided that all that rumination called for a blog post. So there you go. :)

"City Hall" ~ Vienna Teng

so far, so good, but you can't go on much longer like this you know

I disappeared off the face of the earth!

Still don't have time to make the posts I want to (for reference, they are a eulogy for my old phone and what I Brought to the Table for Marriage Prep a couple weeks ago), but I wanted to not be emo.

I even changed my blog title so I look more defiant than scarred.

Well, got to run! Love both of you lotsa and lotsa.

"Shasta (Carrie's Song)" ~ Vienna Teng

she is a dress wearing a face

The weirdest thing happened to me a little while ago. I started singing "Polaris" by Jimmy Eat World, then I stopped for a second because there was a peculiar sound coming from my pocket.

My phone was singing "Polaris" with me. I have no idea how that happened.

Oh yeah. I got a new phone. My much loved Motorola LG was confiscated by my mother, because "it's so ugly". So I have a Nokia camera/music phone. Fun, but I still miss my phone. *sigh*

Also just a little while ago, I was down in the ballet studio dropping off my music, and Isaac was there. (I'm pretty sure I know his last name, but I want to preserve some of his privacy.) He was ward choir director freshman year, so I smiled brightly at him as I left.

And he totally just ... looked away quickly. He was talking to Jeff at the time, but I wonder about that. This brings me to something I've been thinking about lately, and that is the acquaintances I've had in my wards.

I pretty much remember everyone's name and face. Not everyone, but I recognize most people and where I know them from. I'm also good at pretending not to see them, so if they want to say hi to me, they have to start. Most of the time they just glance away quickly as well.

Unless I happen to be in a class with them. Then they're all chummy "We were in the same ward two/three years ago!" and I wonder what changed. I don't really care if you talk to me or not.

And I wonder why I'm not good at keeping friends? Ha!

My computer took half an hour for me to be able to use it just now. Silvey is getting old.

This is one of my more random posts. >.< Sorry about that.

"Whatever You Want" ~ Vienna Teng

feather moon, starlit sky, dead of night, my blinded eye

My roommates commented the other night that various things about my blog seem emo -- namely, my title and subject lines. I'm not an emo person. I promise. I'm a generally happy person.

Just not today.

Yesterday when I walked to school, the stars were still out. Nice and bright. I picked out Orion and the Big Dipper (the only constellations I can actually identify). When I walked home from school last night, the stars were out.

The reason for this? My Mentored Lab Techniques class. I've never hated a class so much.

Basically, what I do is try and follow lab protocol and get the right results. Have I ever managed to get the right results? Never. But I always keep trying. I spend hours and hours in the lab, doing and redoing all the various steps.

All in vain, of course.

But that's not the worst of it. I sort of realized last night/this morning that this class will probably ruin my life more fundamentally than a failing grade and a possible non-graduation.

See, I spend a lot of time around ethidium bromide. EtBr for short, this molecule intercalates between the bases of DNA (which makes it a great gel stainer). If you touch it, it can intercalate between the bases of your DNA. It causes mutations. Since I'm just a tiny bit reckless (I do try to be careful, but I do silly things like wear my gloves to not get it on my skin, then use my gloves on my computer, then later on take off my gloves and still use my computer) I'm certain I've been very exposed to EtBr.

I'm going to get cancer.

Worst of all, I think, is if it goes and gets in my oocytes and mutates them. That means that I will have mutated children.

Dang it, I'm crying again. I've been crying all day.

I also have carpal tunnel. At least, I think I do. My wrists hurt a lot, at any rate. The lab work requires a lot of little intense turning things -- changing the pipets, opening the autoclave, and ... other things. today my wrists are so stiff I can hardly type -- I'm going to have to mark at voice lessons, and that makes me feel bad for the singers. I can't keep doing this.

What would make a good name for this disease I have where I cry for no reason? Lachrymosia? Lachrymosis? Ooh, I like that one.

I want to have beautiful, healthy, normal children. I want to play piano. I don't want to work in a lab all my life.

title from "Feather Moon" - Vienna Teng

flannel and satin

FHE is about to start (have I mentioned how much I love having it at my apartment?) but I thought I'd get started anyway.

Today I wore a pink sweater I got for Christmas a couple years ago. It's not a hard-core sweater, because it was only a little chilly at 6 this morning[1], but it is long-sleeved and whatnot. I like to wear my pink necklace with it.

It also has a red heart sticker on it. When I first saw it, I was surprised. Had I really not worn the sweater since Valentine's Day? That's when I got the sticker. Karyn gave it to me at ballet. She actually gave me two, one for each wrist, so I would remember to lift them[2].

that day, I got a lot of comments about my heart sticker. I don't know why. It was Valentine's Day. More people should've been wearing heart stickers.

Today, I got 0 comments. I don't know what to think about that. Everyone I know must be so used to my eccentricity that the fact I wear stickers on my clothing is accepted as a matter of course, like when I wear a flower in my hair.

Of course, I didn't think anything of the sticker until this afternoon, when I got a glimpse of it in the mirror. So maybe they just all ignored it like I did.

Maybe I should wear a sticker every day just to see if anyone notices. The only problem with this plan is that I only have spider stickers. I guess this is the right time of year for it!

[1] I couldn't believe how dark it was as I walked to school this morning. All the stars were still out, and I could identify constellations. Last time I walked to school it wasn't that dark. (I mean, last time I walked to school around 6, not when I ran to class at 8:45.)

[2] Just a note, I play piano for ballet classes. Karyn was the teacher I played for last year. I love her. I miss her. She was nice and easy to play for and she liked me.

[3] (no, there is no 3 footnote. get over it, I do this all the time.) Speaking of Valentine's Day ... no, I don't want to talk about it. Never mind.

Title from "Recessional" ~ Vienna Teng (sensing a pattern?)

People are coming over for FHE. I'd better go out.

Wrap life in the brilliance of death and humble us all

Saturday morning, bright and early, I went on a field trip with my Mentored Lab Techniques class. I really hate the class, but I enjoyed the excursion. It was only a little chilly at 7:30 down at the greenhouse parking lot, and I felt fine in a t-shirt. (I try to live up to my rearing in Utah and tough out the cold.) I ended up in the front seat of the minivan with the teacher, which means that we mostly talked to each other and everyone else talked among themselves. I didn't tell the teacher how much I hate the class, for which I think I deserve bonus points.

The sun rose as we drove up Provo Canyon. We turned into the "Sundance Road" and there began the beautiful, beautiful autumn foliage. I was rendered just a little bit speechless, craning my neck to find the vibrant reds and oranges and yellows backdropped against the green. I never get to see enough of the leaves.

I think we were all a little bit surprised at the field trip. We had a guest professor and it turns out he was there to give us a lecture on aspens. So we tromped up a path for a while (I realized that I'd neglected to mention that I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous) until we got to a particular stand of aspens he wanted to talk about. The lecture was okay, but despite the exercise-ness of the hike, I loved it even more. Every time I looked up there was a beautiful new vista to take my breath away. Rain was imminent, so the sky was the deep blue-gray that is my favorite color, and with the autumn leaves against it I had to force myself to watch where I was going or I would've tripped.

It rained a little bit. Then on our way back down the path to find an aspen clone down by the road, it began to hail. Ow! That was fun. It was even more fun when I realized everyone was getting in their car and I was just standing out there like an idiot. I'm good at that.

This is about the time I started regretting just wearing a t-shirt. It was cold. My sparse little arm-hairs were extended to full height to increase the barrier space between the air and me, but to little avail. Eventually the sun came out and I was appeased. But I still decided to ride in the car instead of walking because I'd already done too much walking (though I didn't mention that, I just let them think I was lazy).

And it's quite the experience to hang around with a bunch of biology nerds. At one point the two professors were discussing with each other the best protocol to get something done and I zoned out. It just wasn't interesting to me. I don't know what that says about the appropriateness of my major to me. Nothing good, probably. But it was also sort of fun.

The most lasting effect of my field trip, besides a little extra soreness of the leg, was a desperate desire to spend some more time among the autumn leaves. If I were at home, I could simply hike up to Eck Hill and my life would be easy. But here ... I don't know if it's worth it to just go wandering by myself.

Speaking of weather, it rained yesterday. Being the tough Utah girl I am, I didn't have a jacket, and I was cold. All the buildings had their AC on. I went home to get a jacket, but by that time it was already warm enough that I didn't need one. That's how my life goes. :)

Title: "Drought" ~ Vienna Teng (quintessential fall song)

It's the crowded room that breaks me

I've been lucky the past three years. I've not had too many classes that require me to walk in the area between the library and JFSB. This year, unfortunately, that is not the case. I have a class in the JKB, then one in the MARB, then another in the JKB, then one in the WIDB.

Good crimeny.

Between every class is a desperate struggle for my life. So many students, all going different directions (and very few of them headed toward the MARB, so traffic fights against me). I have never once made it across the courtyard without having at least one near collision. And they often happen when both of us realize contact is imminent, but neither of us know which way to deflect. Yeesh.

And the saddest part is, I can't really do anything about it. I could go all the way around the library and head for the less-traveled path, but despite my fear of getting hit, that would take a lot longer and I like being on time to my classes.

I'm just glad I'm better at navigating a car than I am at navigating myself. Maybe we should make a rule that you always pass on the right? That would make my life easier.

/rant that's more like a complaint

Title: "Nothing Without You" ~ Vienna Teng

Hey, love.

I have no idea how to start this blog. Maybe I can skip the pilot post and just get on with my blogging?

Here's what you can expect to see in the next week or so:
+A description of my field trip
+A reflection on the Russian movie I watched on Friday
+A small rant about people in classes
+A small rant about the JFSB square

But that's just when I get around to it. I'm trying to make my writings of this nature more scholarly and less "And then we got in the car and drove up the mountain. And then we drove down again." I do have mild aspirations toward being a writer after all.

Incidentally, my name is Leslie Moon. I'm a BYU student. In 6 words or less, that's my most basic description. Other things about me may come out as the blog progresses. Or you may spend months (is anyone going to be following this for months? Heaven help you) trying to figure me out. I'm fairly open, though; it'll be hard for you not to know too much about me.

Well. Here's a tidbit. I'll toss it to you free. My blog name comes from the song "Gravity" by Vienna Teng. Awesome song. I can play it on the piano.

I'll start a real blog sometime soon. It's not like I have other things I desperately need to do. Not me. :)