acgt

-    Death in the Family, James Agee
-    Bastard out of Carolina, Dorothy Allison
-    In the time of butterflies, Julia Alvarez
-    Bless Me, Ultima, Rudolfo Anaya
-    The handmaid’s tale, Margaret Atwood
-    Parable of the sower, Octavia Butler
-    Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card
-    The awakening, Kate Chopin
-    The house on mango street, Sandra Cisneros
-    Crime and punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
-    Invisible man, Ralph Ellison
-    Bride Price, Buchi Emecheta
-    The bear, William Faulkner
-    Cold mountain, Charles Frazier
-    A lesson before dying, Ernest Gaines
-    Grendel, John Gardner
-    Ellen Foster, Kaye Gibbons
-    Catch-22, Joseph Heller
-    Farewell to arms, Ernest Hemingway
-    Siddhartha, Hermann Hesse
-    Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
-    Schindler’s List, Thomas Keneally
-    The beekeeper’s apprentice or On the segregation of the queen, Laurie R. King
-    Painted bird, Jerzy Kosinski
-    To kill a mockingbird, Harper Lee
-    The Left hand of darkness, Ursula LeGuin
-    The member of the wedding
-    Beauty, Robin McKinley
-    The fixer, Bernard Malamud
-    Nectar in a sieve, Kamala Markandaya
-    In country, Bobbi Ann Mason
-    Shizuko’s daughter, Kyoko Mori
-    Beloved, Toni Morrison
-    The things they carried: a work of fiction, Tim O’Brien
-    Everything that rises must converge, Flannery, O’Connor
-    The chosen 67, Chaim Potok
-    The grass dancer, Susan Power
-    Killer angels, Michael Shaara
-    The grapes of wrath, John Steinbeck
-    Picture bride, Yoshiko Uchida
-    Montana, Larry Watson
-    Native son, Richard Wright
-    Briar Rose, Jane Yolen

-   Through the Looking Glass,
-   Harry Potter series book 1-7
- Howl's Moving Castle
- Over the Edge of the World,Laurence Bergreen

I was mowing this weekend, and I accidentally mowed over one nest. The hen barely made her escape as the tractor went over two-thirds of her eggs. Oh, I was pissed at myself, and the guilt was like a hook to my neck. There were three eggs left, so I took them into my possession. I looked over the other crushed eggs to see how far along they were. The eggs were just new; there were no formed chicks yet as far as I could tell. I saw the hen return with her mate some time later. They flew over the area where the nest was, which was now open to predators and the element, and they flew onward and away. I felt terrible; I still feel terrible. Earlier, I had mowed too closely to another nest. While I was able to avoid that nest, the hawk that flew away from there twice (hinting to me it was there), it was exposed, too. So, I went back and took those, too. They were white and much too small to belong to the hawk. And, I fear that they may have been there for far too long baking in the sun's heat. It was 91 degrees Farenheit that day, and when I picked up the eggs, they had been sitting in the heat for about three hours. So, I have five eggs: two unknown white ones and three (Mallard) duck eggs. They are sitting under a lamp right now, with a digital thermometer in the center. I read online that the incubation temperature is between 97 to 100 degrees farenheit. Because the eggs are new, it will be approximately 28 days before the duck eggs hatch. I am excited, but scared at the same time. And, very angry with myself. I feel absolutely terrible for mowing the ducks out of house and home and on top, crushing her nest. I feel responsible for these three remaining eggs, including the two unknown eggs. I never saw the hawk return to them, nor any other bird after I mowed the coverage next to them.

I called Kat because I know she has an incubator, but she hasn't returned my call, and she's usually very good about returning phone calls. And, I don't have Olson nor Roger's phone number. I highly doubt that Roger is in town anyway.

On another note, I've been sleeping too much. I don't know why, but after a certain time in the afternoon, about 1pm, I can't stay awake anymore. I don't like this heat, and I worry a lot about things I can't grasp.

And, it was dinner with Brian. He was reluctant to have dinner with me. He said that he didn't have any money. I never ask him to pay for dinner, so why would I start now? It wasn't the first time he told me that. I hadn't seen him in a long time. I asked him to dinner to make sure that he was okay (which I could tell from his online posts alone, but I also needed to know that we were okay, too), and to give him a housewarming gift. He probably doesn't realize that I do keep up with his blog, even if I don't see him, and it probably won't register in his mind even if I told him. I know he's got a lot on his mind--a lot of other more important and interesting things. We went to a pho restaurant (I don't think of it as a restaurant; it's more like a noodle shop to me). He ordered pho, and I had the ginger chicken rice dish. I let Brian talk because that was the whole point of my asking him to dinner. It was about him, not me. He talked briefly about the breakup, how he felt, how it ended and when he got over her. He talked about his family, work, where he was at now, and he talked about his new apartment. When he mentioned his apartment, I gave him the bag with my gift in it. I got him a Brita water filter pitcher. Then, he told me that he was heading to Illinois next week. I knew immediately he was going to go pick up his friend Jen. I conceded with him. I've never met Jen, but just hearing Brian talk about her, I really liked her. She was going through some hard times and what Brian was doing was just the sort of thing I'd expect from Brian. He's a caring and loving person. He asked if I had time to see his apartment. I hadn't planned on it, but I said that I would like to. He had parked on the other end of the shopping corner, so I offered to drive him to his car. I followed him to his new apartment on the southeast side of town (where I lived for one year with my ex-boyfriend). He gave me a tour of his apartment and shared with me his favorite Linkin Park songs, then we parted. Him to someone else. Me to Elisabeth.

I feel the disconnect. I am afraid that perhaps I have just become like every other friend to Brian. Brian means so much to me. When I think of him, all I remember is his laughter. That was the one thing that kept me going when he went to Florida for school. I knew how much I wrote to him, but towards the end of the three years before his return, I don't think I understood how many letters I sent to him, until he came back and showed me the binderfull of letters that he kept from me, and only me. It was a shock to me that even though he didn't write or call and email me that he still thought of me. By then, it was set in my mind that he was too busy. It deterred me from worrying too much about it. Here was someone I admired, someone I love very much, and someone unreachable to me. He didn't make much of an effort to see me when he got back, and it hurt my feelings in a way. I didn't know how to approach him. Yes, he was my best friend, but three years was a long time, and it confused me that he didn't seem interested in catching up. I was interested in catching up; I wanted to catch up so badly... and I didn't know how to just pick up the friendship where it ended. He was really depressed one night last year (a few months after he returned from Florida), and I called him on it. I told him how I felt, and it worked. We started hanging out again. It was temporary; school started for me and I didn't have as much time to hang out. I ran into other problems, too, and I think I put too much pressure on Brian. And, again we fell out of it. I can't fix it this time, because I think as I've said in a previous entry, I need to fix myself. I feel that I have been casted aside by Brian. And, that's nothing new. I think I put too much focus on Brian anyway; it's not healthy for me or the friendship. I have other friends that I should think about, too. Besides, I've always known in my head how different Brian and I are. He plays video games, and is interested in all these different things that I've had no previous exposure to. I feel that I have nothing interesting to offer to him, and that is the failing on my part to keep Brian interested in me as a friend. For now, I will sit. I didn't tell him that I would be working at Dinkey Creek all summer. I didn't think that it was important. He will find out sooner or later... better later than sooner.

Elisabeth was ill. I did what I could for her. I feel so useless. I had my own agenda in mind, and I was trying to focus on her, too. And, it just didn't work out. I feel stupid. I made some stupid comment that I wish I could take back. Chris, her boyfriend, reminds me that I am stupid; he puts me to shame for not knowing my biology better. I feel inadequate.

I feel tired and in need of comfort.

I don't belong anywhere. I distrust my abilities. I distrust my intelligence.

I don't feel comfortable. I'm going to go lie down and read my book. (Three weeks, and I will be gone. I didn't tell Brian. What does that mean? He's going to Illinois to pick up Jen.)

I know we all feel it. Sometimes we just need some space of our own to breathe, to say what we have to say. Sometimes, an admition is heavy on our chest and while we want someone to care, there just isn't anyone around. And, sometimes it's easier to be ourselves around people we don't know because they don't expect anything from us, which means no worry of disappointing anyone. This is how I feel often. My friends are good to me, but we've known each other so long that perhaps we've grown careless around each other. And then, there are just some things I won't write about if I knew there was someone I knew reading my thoughts.

ACGT are the bases that make up DNA.