Cold Noodles

morning comparisons

imdeb — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 01:40:56 +0000

She leans against the countertop silently, her mouth gaped open slightly, the familiar face of any girl putting on eye make up. Its 9am. Already her teenage acne is covered, Sephora brand coverup plastered over her face like frosting. I look at my own acne covered face, except I’m not a teenager, ugh. “How was your night?” she asks. “Boring.” I reply. Another night spent on the couch of my ex-boyfiend’s house doing things you shouldn’t do with an ex-boyfriend. “How was your night?” I keep the conversation going even though I don’t want to know what she did last night, I’m just being nice. I tune most of her out as I go to work scrubbing my own face, hoping to scrub the zits away. Something about a party, how typical of her. I shove a tooth brush in my mouth and she goes on about people I don’t know and people I don’t like. She begins on her hair. It’s just a hue away from jet black. Her skin, tanned with expensive wipes from a store I’ve never been in in the mall, glows in the light. I’m white as a ghost. But I mean, it is January. I pull out the Covergirl coverup I bought at Wal-mart. It’s about three shades lighter than hers. I smear it onto my face. Discouraged, I turn to my hair. It’s mousey brown. I absolutely hate it. It looks dead and lifeless, frizzy, muted, ugly. I dyed it from blonde to brown to see if I liked the change. I don’t. It makes me feel fake even though it is closer to my natural hair color than the light blonde I had turned it. I look like a preteen, awkward, pale, tired. She is snapping in her nearly black extensions as I comb through my snarled brown mop. “What are you doing today?” I ask her. “Shopping with Alix” she responds. I’m not sure but I’m starting to think that shopping is one of her favorite activities. I glance at her in the mirror. Her low cut shirt I’ve never seen before, brand new. Her $50 bra does a lot more work then any of my bras have ever done. I look at myself in my old sweatpants and thread bare Fun-Run shirt that I got in the 6th grade. Who puts on a bra before 11am? I’ve made little progress on my appearance and I’m feeling pretty drained from looking at myself this long in the mirror. I look over at her again, she is curling her dark hair with a hot iron. I drag some mascara across my eyelashes and even trace my bottom lid with eyeliner. I don’t have any plans today.

20 sources

imdeb — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 19:39:43 +0000

Seriously?! The paper is only 15 pages! Do you really want 20 different opinions clogging up my paper? Because I’m trying to say my own, but everyone elses’ are getting in the way. If your worried about me not hitting 15 pages rest assured, I’ve got quite a lot to say, and I don’t need anyone backing me up on this one.

Happy Thanksgiving!

imdeb — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 16:00:27 +0000

the meaning of hey

imdeb — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 04:06:34 +0000

found this on a website, just not sure which one, hope its not copyrighted or some bullshit like that.

the ride home from NACA

imdeb — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 04:25:51 +0000

I’m not sure exactly what woke me but I opened my eyes slowly to the sunlight slanting through tinted windows. My jacket was balled up where my head had been, darkened in the spot where I had drooled in my sleep. We were very close, only maybe 15 minutes away from UNH. I looked around the rest of the bus. Limp legs fell into the asiles and sleeping tilted heads pressed against windows. Alison was awake and reading. We exchanged smiles, the only two awake on a silent bus…well aside from the driver. Slowly, stirring began, as if an internal gps knew we were practically home. Justin adjusted his glasses as Allie righted her ponytail. In silence we looked back at each other, quielty recalling funny stories from the past weekend. We all knew that this weekend would be something that only the people on this bus would ever fully understand. The gentle curve of the off ramp brought the rest of the bus to life. And as we re-adjusted our clothing and wiped sleep from our eyes, we rode into campus. We stepped from the bus, gathered our things, and with groggy goodbyes, we parted in all different ways across C lot, smiling. An unlikey group united in memories.

after class

imdeb — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 17:14:50 +0000

Walking barefoot across T-hall lawn, I try to remember the last time I felt alone. Right now seemed pretty close. My bare feet crunched satisfying over brown fallen leaves. The leaves were warm in the sun compared to the semi-frozen ground. Two people, but not together, were sitting on the lawn, that was it. The T-hall bell rang for 10:30am and I suddenly became aware of the rest of campus, alive but half asleep, strolling in light jackets to their next class along cement walkways. Was there some sort of rule that you couldn’t be on the grass unless it was 80degrees plus and sunny? A fat squirrel finishing off a granola bar seemed surprised to see me on his green turf, someone walking off the path way? In November? …what a shock. Delivery trucks and UNH busses hummed noisily on the busy road, stopping at every crosswalk to let girls in sweatpants and boys on longboards cross. There are always so many people around. Even from my room I can hear the buzz from the hand dryer, lively hallway conversations, the slamming of doors. The last time I felt alone I can’t even remember. Lonely, yes, that was just last night, or maybe right now. When was the last time I saw something beautiful? The last time I had my breath taken away? The last time I felt small? In a store, with an unwelcomed kiss, and trying to find a table in the dining hall.

Blonde hair whisps in front of my face, a gentle New Hampshire breeze. I’m going to dye it brown over Thanksgiving break. A bleach blonde passes me and the guy walking ahead of me turns to look at her from behind. Maybe I won’t dye my hair after all.

the only thing I’ve absorbed from Turner’s American Frontier (1893)

imdeb — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 17:22:18 +0000

Come my friends, ’Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the Western stars until I die

my year by year life highlights

imdeb — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 20:54:11 +0000

1991 I was born

1992 I forget

1993 I remember

1994 Claire is born

1995 preschool in the library basement

1996 I swim in the deep-end of the pool

1997 I write my ‘5’s the correct direction

1998 I can’t do math

1999 I start to retain what I learn

2000 I lose my grandfather

2001 I try to train my cows

2002 I feel pretty

2003 I move into Hopkins

2004 I reconsider my friends

2005 I become class president

2006 I quit the violin

2007 I start my junior year

2008 I put on prom

2009 I work in Yellowstone

2010 I fall in love

2011 I am an RA

~12ft?

imdeb — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 13:02:41 +0000

So I jumped off this ledge into the water. It’s kind of a big deal considering I’m afraid of heights. Proud of myself, hehe

there’s something about 20…

imdeb — Sat, 30 Jul 2011 03:11:15 +0000

…that’s just not agreeing with me right now. I have an hour until I’m 20. It’s not that 19 was anything that special, but that my 10-19 has been so, well, important. It’s the last decade that has shaped me into the person I am this very minute. The experiences, memories, the things I’ve learned in the past 10 years that are the most meaningful. And think about it, what happens when your in your 20s…a shit load! I’m going to graduate from college, maybe get married, have a kid?! I mean typically thats what happens. I have a life list right now, I might get through most of it as it is now by 29! Its possible. I could live my life in 10 years while in my 20s! Oye. I’m terrible at goodbyes. I recall being sad when we had to say goodbye to the 20th century when the ball dropped on January 1st, 200o. I like being young and having more to go then more behind me. It’s like James Taylor says, with 10 miles behind me and 10,000 more to go. Eventually I’m going to have 10,000 miles behind me…but I guess I’m not there yet. Bye bye teenager, hello 20, bring it on. I promise to make it count.