Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in caralou's LiveJournal:

[ << Previous 20 ]

Tuesday, December 9th, 2008
5:34 pm	I am alive.  (2 Comments |Comment on this)
5:30 pm	Writer's Block: Gone but Not Forgotten Many beloved television shows are no longer with us, like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Six Feet Under, and Mystery Science Theater 3000. What defunct television show do you miss the most? View 501 Answers Freaks and Geeks Arrested Development X-Files Unsolved Mysteries Rescue 911 (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 28th, 2008
7:13 pm	perfect dream A drink, a book, a beach, my honey... (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, February 12th, 2008
3:39 pm	a memoir in only six words Advantage in.  Deuce.   Advantage out.  Damn.  (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 25th, 2007
9:09 pm	colin powell says... "What is the greatest threat facing us now? People will say it’s terrorism. But are there any terrorists in the world who can change the American way of life or our political system? No. Can they knock down a building? Yes. Can they kill somebody? Yes. But can they change us? No. Only we can change ourselves. So what is the great threat we are facing? "...It should not be just about creating alliances to deal with a guy in a cave in Pakistan... We are taking too much counsel of our fears."  (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 16th, 2007
3:38 pm	I wish more people knew who Brandi Carlile was.  I suppose no one else in the world likes sappy folksy music, hence the fact that no one knows of Brandi Carlile.   (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, September 15th, 2007
10:55 pm	So, raise your hand if you ever thought Cara would ever have two squirrels in her freezer. Anyone?  Anyone? (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 17th, 2007
4:33 pm	Today I have accomplished precisely nothing but acquire a better knowledge of the ways of Scott Baio. (Comment on this)
Monday, July 16th, 2007
5:02 pm	Do you think Hillary Clinton ever cries? (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, July 12th, 2007
10:41 pm	AIDS camp/Bahamas journal To those who expressed an interest in reading my real journal stuff: This is completely unedited, and perhaps there are a few typos. If I were to revise this, I'm sure it would be much different. This is as raw as it gets. I make no apologies, I just explain. Thanks for being interested in my life enough to want to read this. :o) I had a five-stringed guitar and no room to sit. I stepped first into the room followed by the four cooks-for-the-week. This room - Erica's whole living space - was maybe twice as big as the space I have in my house to store my clothes. There were no pictures on the splintered wood walls. No belongings or mementos. Counter clear of clutter, but not necessarily clean. There was only a fan, a broken television which served as a table for the basketful of mostly herbal and some prescription medications, a bed covered by only a fitted sheet, and the shriveled body of a woman named Erica. Her short black hair was matted in spires around her head. Her legs lay twisted, tangled, emaciated in the middle of her bed. She had not walked for some time and perhaps not even been moved at all for weeks or months - there was no wheelchair even near her. I realized very quickly that the apparent tidiness of Erica's room had less to do with her living there and more to do with her imminent death. At that thought I could hear her breathing, labored and heavy, that low tickling gurgle, that tell-tale sound of the walls of her lungs giving way, filling with liquid. Felicia, the head cook, went straight for Erica's hand. My borrowed guitar and I took up more than our share of the room, so I stepped aside to let Felicia near its resident. She immediately ran her bare fingers through Erica's hair, gently searching for sores. I winced in fear for Felicia - Erica was dying of AIDS, and any unknown open wound on either one of them could send Felicia into a long and painful death. Felicia thumbed through Erica's hair without hesitation. She proclaimed that Erica's head was free of sores. I sighed in relief to myself, but still shaken by the whole thing. Felicia talked to the other cooks about possibly washing Erica's hair, as Erica kept grabbing Felicia's hand and putting it in her hair. I assume as a distraction, Felicia asked me to sing a song. Obediently, I played an old praise song, a Sunday morning staple - one of the very few songs I knew. At the end of the last chord, I felt a nudge to sing a song called Home. My heart fails My mind falters Is this the right song for right now? I thought. Where I hadn't had much practice in playing guitar and singing as of late, the words literally came to me as it came time to sing them. Sometimes my passion fades Sometimes my desires change Sometimes I turn my head and look the other way Erica laid very still, but breathing very hard. My breath and the words came more easily now. When I'm restless You are rest When I'm helpless You are help When I'm nervous You settle me When I'm empty You fill me When I've got so far You gently bring me home 'Cause You are home I was still not completely sure why I was singing this song. Then suddenly, it hit me. Home is where my history begins Home is where You delight in me Home is where Your voice is in my ear and home is where You dance with me The sound of Erica's breathing softened, her chest still rising and falling to the beat of her heart, still hard at work. You dance with me Salty rivers gushed from my eyes. Pools collected in hers. Without blinking, they drained quickly down her cheeks. You dance with me I could have sworn I saw her legs move. I repeated the last chorus, trying with every fiber of my being to hold my sobs until the last chord. My fingers grazed the strings the last time. I froze. In a flash, Erica grabbed my hand, kissed it and held it to her cheek, stained with her tears. My first instict was a jolt of fear - her bodily fluids were a slow burn of her life, nearly ready to be snuffed out. Her poison tears soaked the back of my hand. The kiss from her lips burned my skin. That flash of fear for my life - that sense of self-preservation which had suddenly grown silent - became an instant release. If Erica's grateful tears were to be the cause of the end of my life, I had to be okay with that. And, at least for that moment, I was. (5 Comments |Comment on this)
10:31 pm	premium celluloid This has been doctor week. I realize now that I have scheduled every possible appointment for this week since I have been absent from the real world until this week. In the past few days I have had syringes in my ears, invaded by whatever that thing is that causes "a little bit of pressure," picked, x-rayed, and I'm about to be popped and cracked tomorrow. Makes me thankful that the state of Kentucky wants me to stay well so badly that they will pay for all of my ailments. Makes me feel sad for those who are not so lucky. Anything we the wee could do about this? (Comment on this)
Friday, June 22nd, 2007
5:38 pm	What's the best thing to do to keep your mind off of something crappy? (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, June 1st, 2007
2:15 pm	I currently have no obligations and no clue what to do with myself. One year down, 26 more to go. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, May 24th, 2007
5:29 pm	Grading papers in my undies. It's so effing hot in this house. (Comment on this)
Monday, May 21st, 2007
6:30 pm	I have eaten nothing but light Twinkies and drunk nothing but Coke all day. At one point, I swear I could hear the Coke splattering onto the spongey goodness in my tummy, and then foam up, and make me burp. And then I realized how disgusting it is to consume nothing but Coke and light Twinkies all day. Twinkies aren't so light anymore when they're supersaturated with high fructose corn syrup. (Comment on this)
Thursday, May 17th, 2007
10:10 pm	I kinda miss the good ole days when I didn't have a TV. (Which was July '05 - May'06.) I had to work a little bit to be entertained. Now I can watch CSI all day if I feel like it. (Comment on this)
Monday, May 7th, 2007
4:00 pm	i was wrong As I reread my post from last night and the responses I got today, I suddenly felt like the not-fat girl who says "I'm fat!" just to get people to say that she's not fat. That was not my intention! But it is good to know that people care. I'm glad that livejournal is still alive and kicking! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, May 6th, 2007
11:15 pm	I feel like I could almost write anything I want about anyone I want on my livejournal and it wouldn't matter. It's like a secret forgotten loose floorboard that I have buried so much in over the years. I seriously doubt that anyone ever reads mine anymore. (6 Comments |Comment on this)
1:42 am	My brain has literally turned to mush. One could crack open my skull right now and all that would be there is melted ice cream, CocaCola and peanut butter cups. My brain cells can no longer smack together and make any kind of spark of knowledge, no epiphanes or great realizations will occur this evening. Oh no, my brain is officially cashed. I would love to be writing about Plato or Freire, or even perhaps some Dewey, just to get this damn paper over with. I try to get going in the direction of teaching or learning or something like that, and then I feel like someone is sitting on my chest, and then I go grab another Coke so I can stay awake for a few minutes longer as I try to trudge through all the theories by theorists that were handed to me by Dr. Whatshisface and try to piece together something - ANYTHING - that makes enough sense so I can be done with this effing paper and move on with my life. I'd much rather just shit in my hand and hand that to him than to sit here, chained to my computer, a complete zombie, couldn't sleep if I wanted to even though I know my body is exhausted. I'd just lay there for days counting the things I've yet to do for this ass clown before I can be done with him forever. I am so tired of this. GAH!!!! (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 29th, 2007
8:29 pm	Procrastinating writing a paper. It's hard to get motivated because I know that no matter how awesome my paper is, I will not get any better than an 80% on it, which is barely passing in grad school. I'd do much better if the assignment was to write a novel. Current Music: Brandi Carlile - Turpentine (Comment on this)