January 2nd, 2003


Rose Parade

As I was hurriedly getting dressed yesterday, I snatched a few moments to watch a bit of the Rose Parade.

The Rose Parade is a big deal out here in SoCal. Last year when I talked about it and guingel didn't even know what it was, I was completely shocked. I mean, it's THE ROSE PARADE. (By the way, the Rose Parade is held on the 1st of every year in Pasadena. There are about a hundred floats covered in flowers in it, many marching bands, many equestrian groups, and many many many other cool things. A million people camped out along the streets this year to watch it. Every network channel out here covers it, and channel 5 has it on constant repeat all day after it's over.)

I used to get up at the crack of dawn to watch it. Yesterday I was still too blitzed from the night before to do so, but that's not the reason I didn't. I haven't actually been watching it all for the last few years now. Has it lost it's enchantment? I don't know.

This was my thought this year while watching the few bits that I caught: I wish I had been in a band. It looked so neat! Marching in spiffy uniforms playing instruments and just, coolness. I read reina's posts about her band experiences and am envious. I listen to my sisty talk about her high school marching band days and the lifelong friends (including her husband) she made with her bandmates and it sounds neat.

Yesterday, I watched the bands and listened to their songs with more interest than the floats. In my younger years, I used to begrude all the time spent on the bands and pay attention to mainly the floats. Age changes you, I guess.

I still love the Rose Parade.

Maggie Gyllenhaal

I have a little girlie crush on Maggie Gyllenhaal. Isn't she gorgeous?

I saw this picture of her in last Sunday's Parade Magazine suppliment in the LA Times. The flower, the smile, the eyes...

She is just so divine. Is she not divine?

Yes, well, I just strange.
  • Current Mood

a poem

"I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.
Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth."

-- "East Coker," T.S. Eliot