So it goes.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2009-10-21T15:28:00

2009-10-21T21:05:20Z

Figured I'd update for those of you who actually read this thing.

I'm doing pretty well. Been re-evaluating a lot of things lately. Kind of tired of certain things, but realizing that I can make my own decisions. No more being a pushover. Classes this semester have been alright. My Astronomy lab and lecture are kicking my butt, but it's all good. Just a lot of information.

I'm going to change my major to history. I love my history classes and I do well in them. I still don't know what I want to do, but I figure a major in something I'm good at couldn't be a bad thing. Maybe I'll get a teacher's licensure.

Desperately needing a job. Tired of not having money to do anything. I would like to be able to go see a movie without having to starve part of the week.

Getting stuff ready for my Spring Break trip to Nicaragua. I'm so excited. It's my first out of country mission trip and all the people that went two years ago said it was amazing. I need to get my shots for ...tetanus... or something like that.

The rooming situation is working out wonderfully so far. I love living with Kelly and Kelsey. Kelsey has me inadvertently eating better. She buys all this whole grain, banana chip, oatmeal, protein stuff and I feel guilty eating my poptarts. Whatever. I feel healthier. I will say this though. We all love boring breakfast cereal, and going to bed early. Perfect.

Kelly and I bought holiday decorations for our little apartments. It's pretty cute. It's all fall-y. We have a giant light up spiderweb on our deck, fall leaf garlands on the tops of our cabinets, and a cute stuff turkey on the coffee table. I feel like an old woman, but I love it.

Ryan and I have been dating for almost 7 months. Everything there is going pretty well. He's debating transferring back next year. He's not happy at Bethel and he can get a Philosophy major here and go to seminary in Nashville. We'll see what happens. He surprised me a few weekends ago with flowers and my favorite scented candles. We may fight sometimes, but he certainly can be wonderful.

My mom's birthday was a few weekends ago, and I had the idea to redo the den for her birthday. We painted and rearranged the furniture. We also go a slip cover for the couch. It looks pretty good. A heck of a lot better than it did.

Life has been really low key lately. I love it.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2009-06-02T01:47:00

2009-06-02T06:56:22Z

Summer has started. Lovely, beautiful summer. It's shaping up to be a weird one. I'm living in Murfreesboro, but I'm commuting at least twice a week to Nashville. I don't feel completely isolated.

I'm babysitting Evie (my two year old niece) once a week. So much fun. That little baby girl makes me so happy. I accidentally locked myself out of the house while she was still inside last week. Now, before you pass judgment on me being the worst aunt/babysitter/person ever, let me explain to you their door. It's lock is opposite of how mine locks, and it also feels like it's unlocked from the inside regardless of whether it is or not. AAAND it sticks. So the cards were stacked against me. Luckily, their neighbor was outside and let me use his phone, and Chris told me how to break in by using a gardening tool. Didn't make me feel too safe...but whatever.

It's almost my birthday. I'm almost 19. So, so crazy. What a weird age to be. It's like teenage purgatory.

Feeling kind of under the weather. It's either a cold or some crazy allergies. Or pneumonia. Ryan's dad went to the hospital a few days ago when i stayed the night, and ended up having it. Crazy.

I'm on the leadership team at PSF. I never ever would have imagined a year ago I would be where I am now, and as happy as I am now. I love everyone I've become close with in college. So much. PSF is something else, man.

Thinking about changing my major. Pray that God moves me. I'm confused.

I'm missing certain people something fierce. My red headed lady needs to come back from ait stat. The army has had her long enough, thank you very much. And my lady doing it big in pulaski needs to come visit me and miss kelly. We neeeeed her. Can haz heather webbz?

More later.
I"m happy.
Exceedingly so.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2009-04-14T20:58:00

2009-04-15T02:24:04Z

The laundry never ends. Ever.
Three weeks till sweet sweet freedom.
All I want to do this summer is read, run, and lay in the grass with a huge glass of tea and my raybans on.
Warm summer sunshine.

Goals for the summer-
spend less money
learn stick
steal dads VW bus
drive to some place sunny and arid
wear sun dresses every day
read kerouac every day
take my fisheye with me everywhere
stock up on polaroid film, then use it all
freckles
tattoo
nose piercing
spontaneous roadtrip
backpack
lose another dress size
go to the mountains
take my puppies to the dog park
pull a thoreau, and go to edith's cabin in monteagle by myself
write something i can be proud of

Realistically, I'm aware the possibility of most, if any, of this happening is slim to none, but it's nice to daydream. Idealistic summer thoughts are always a beautiful thing to have.

I'm thinking about entering something I wrote in high school (and have been tinkering with lately) into the mtsu literary journal. Nervous, but willing to try.

“The smoke that doth so high ascend
Shows that our lives must have an end
The vapor's gone 
Man's life is done 
Think on this when you smoke tobacco”
-Tobacco is an Indian Weed, James VI

The seasons passed in my childhood just as they would in any other. Spring brought rain and soft blowing buds on the pear trees in my neighbor’s yard. Winter meant a short relief from school burdens and sleeping mysteries hidden in the morning frost. Summer ushered in recognition of the passage of time and the onslaught of unavoidable maturity, but fall…fall meant twilight.

My father’s office has always (regardless of location) been a cave of books and papers. I grew up with the crooked face of Andrew Jackson staring solemnly down at me from his off-kilter position on the wall. The prints that adorned his office were paintings done by an old friend. My father had often posed for him. In these pictures I saw the imposing brow and rounded nose of my father, but he was magically dressed as John Smith, or he was a singular militiaman gazing placidly down across a smooth river at a small herd of drinking deer. He was a time traveler.

His floors were barely distinguishable amongst the stacks of books scattered around the room. Obviously read, their edges were bent and smudged with the oils off his commanding finger. The bookshelf behind his desk was of medium height and was covered with books and relics of his past. Studying the items placed on the painted wood was like gaining access to an archaeological dig of his subconscious. A small model airplane, a crudely crafted clay skull, a picture of a young boy in a Scout’s uniform with the same brow and nose, just a softer eye and countenance. My brother. A picture of my father with long hair, his face engulfed by a pair of glasses congruent with the style of the time, and his arms around a small blonde girl with an open face and a self-conscious smile. My mother. Several small vials of ink sat quietly awaiting their use. A picture of a raven-haired toddler in a cherry red jacket struggling to mount a bale of hay. A fall noon many years ago. She tumbled and grinned, forever smiling with her baby face turned up to the autumn leaves. This baby now taking care of a baby all her own, one who owns an almost mirror likeness. My sister. A model VW bug, a few boxes of buckshot, a small day calendar that had been forgotten. These objects adorned the shelves of my father’s office. Time frozen.

It was on his desk, however, where the crux of the room was stored. Amid the papers covered with the long scrolling script of his hand and the odd assortment of pens, pencils, and business cards sat a deep, round, cherry wood container. My father’s pipe carousel. The embodiment of fall. Around the edges there were vertically drilled holes, specially made slots for his collection of pipes. He had many, all different colors and sizes. Some ornately decorated, others crudely whittled by a dull blade. In the center was a smaller container, half filled with the mystery stuff. The material that, on crisp fall evenings, my father would pack into his choice pipe. I would sit and watch in silence as he reclined and enjoyed this special providence. The blue smoke left his mustached lip and curled into the twilight, mixing with the orange and red glowing embers that bejeweled the poplar tree in our front yard. The evening fell into the trees, and the stars appeared, turning the smoke into a purple ribbon, and I would watch it dance into the twilight. The stars dripping onto the sliver in the sky. With my father it was a slow process.

The stars commandeered the horizon and the moon become the compass rose for the sky map in his mind. Do you see Orion Nik? Yes sir. And you see the Great Bear, and Orion’s Dog? Yes sir. You know what he’s doing. He’s still chasing the seven sisters, the Pleidas. He became so ardent for them that Zeus, their daddy, feared for them. He turned them all into twinkling doves and placed them in the night sky. Orion still chases them. That’s love.

Then he sent me off to bed, where I would lay and let it seep into my pores. The stars, the lore, the smoke. Those evenings as I lay in bed, my mind would refract all I had seen and heard. I could feel my brain buzzing and glowing within my skull, smoke swirling and twisting between the folds. I would close my eyes and grow woozy from the scent of the tobacco tingling in my nose. I would fall swiftly to the dream cavity. Here I could dance and leap from star to star, talking with the sister’s as they shivered brightly in their celestial prison. I too felt the fear and love Zeus the father felt surging through his skin. I looked back and saw Orion climb on. Always remaining a certain distance, never gaining, never losing. And, if I looked hard enough, I could see my own father, sitting on the front stoop. Time frozen, staring through the fading trees at the night sky, the smell of tobacco in his hair.

A lot of the emphasis is lost without the italics.
You get the gist though.

I'm tired. I want to sleep till May.
Maybe I will...

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2009-02-09T15:25:00

2009-02-09T21:33:15Z

Well, I got a twitter.

If you gots one, you should follow me.

https://twitter.com/Ni_kiW_rd

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2009-01-05T19:14:00

2009-01-06T01:26:27Z

Going back to Murfreesboro tomorrow.
I'm so ready to sit around my apartment and do nothing for a few days.

I had such a great weekend. I helped my sister and her husband clean out their upstairs. They were making a space for his drum kit (he used to drum professionally before he started his carpentry business). I ended up getting a bunch of my sisters old stuff, a la more van goghs for my room and a tiny lego luke skywalker keychain.

They took me out to dinner as thanks for helping. Had sushi for the first time. Yum yum.
Then we went back to their house and watched E.T. Evie, my niece, kept ribbiting at the screen because she thought he was a frog.

It was a good day.

Bring it on 2009.

I love xkcd.

Things from 2008

2009-01-01T17:01:19Z

-Participated in a play I will never forget, and one I wish I could
-Cut classes
-Stayed out past curfew
- Graduated High School
-Was a Junior Camp counselor for the fourth year in a row
-Sold my first car
-Watched way too many movies
-Was disappointed
-Made new friends
-Lost old friends
-Moved out of the house
-Backpacked on the Grayson Highlands in Virginia, with wild ponies
-Officially changed my major to Art History
-Started playing the ukulele
-Bought more books than I had time to read
-Bought my first lomography cameras
-Quit my first job
-Lost an influential person in my life because of Church ridiculousness
-Got over my first heartbreak
-Voted
-Successfully completed my first semester of college
-Read a book that changed my life

Pretty good year.

baha.

2008-11-06T23:25:08Z

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-11-01T22:22:00

2008-11-02T03:26:04Z

I love big quilts, cold pizza, bad jokes, and 70s horror flicks with friends.

Hooray for life.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-10-25T23:05:00

2008-10-26T04:32:07Z

I think true independence is a laughable idea. No one can be truly self-reliant. I've always known this. I never wanted it anyways. I had always thought, though, I had a fraction of independence in my marrow. I could go places by myself. Eat dinner alone. Go to the park alone. Watch a movie alone.

I'm a liar.

The tree outside my window keeps me from going insane. Some nights, when there are no hastily made plans with friends, it's just the tree and me. If I lay on my bed at a certain angle, I can block the view of the traffic light and busy intersection, and it is just us. I wonder about my tree. His small quivering leaves and pale bark. He doesn't ask a lot of questions. It's refreshing. I think about his age, who lives in his long limbs, how far his roots extend.

I think I love him.

Sometimes I almost miss getting off the bus at my stop because I'm frozen in my seat. Maybe it's the jazz music my favorite bus driver plays. Maybe it's the way the others sway to the bumps and dips in the road.

I get lost. And sad. But I exist. Thanks Descartes. I have that much.

I'm a liar simply because I never do those things. I don't go to the theater by myself. Or the park. Anywhere for that matter. I always have something to occupy my thoughts. A book. A camera. It's never just me. Never. Because, I guess I'm scared to be alone with myself. What if I don't like me? No, it's easier just to avoid it and to revel in my pseudo-independence.

Maybe it's God in the tree, but I commune with it. I swear I do. I breathe in his waste and use it up. He does the same with mine. We have a decent system worked out, the tree and me. Give and take. That's all I'm asking for...from anyone.

I can still feel that raspy jazz music in my skin. I guess it got stuck in my pores. It influences me, actually. I can feel it's release when I make beats with my keys as I twirl them around my fingers when I pace up the stairs to my room, and to my tree. That's usually my day. Tree, jazz, knowledge, jazz, tree. Repeat. Maybe I'm frozen in my seat because the equilibrium of my days is pressing in from both sides so tightly that I can't. I just can't get up. It's physically impossible. I know that's not true though. I can't move because I'm scared to.

I dreamt the other night that I told my tree my deepest secrets, my saddest memories, my highest ambitions. I told him everything. And all he said was nothing. He just drank the soil and ate the sun. So I waited. Nothing. I cried. Nothing. I screamed. Nothing. So, I chopped him down.

I burnt him. Along with my books, and film, and letters. All of it. Gone. And I breathed him in. His ashes swirled within me and coated my lungs. I fell back into the wet grass and froze to the stars.

It was beautiful.

It was only a dream though. My tree was still there. My books were still piled all over my floor. I'm glad of it. I would have missed him.

I plan on waking up sometime soon. But not yet.
Not yet.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-10-01T22:12:00

2008-10-02T03:47:29Z

I've been sleeping a lot lately.
It has got to stop.
Albeit...I've been having some craaazy nap dreams.
Still, all this sleeping can't be a good thing.

I'm going to miss the Motion City concert tomorrow. Kelly has a intramural football game and we were going to ride together. Oh well. I've seen them once, and it was amazing. I figure I can wait to see them again.

I feel like I have my schoolwork under control, but that makes me nervous. I know I can't get too relaxed. Bad things happen when I get too relaxed. Although, I made a 100 on my last math test (even though it was ridiculously easy...I was still amazed.)

Today was the first legitimately chilly day.
I was so excited.
I can stop kidding myself that it's sweater weather, and not feel like an idiot wearing cardigans everywhere.
I love fall.
Love love.
I've got to figure out how the film in my Diana+ camera works though, because I keep screwing something up.
This would be an awesome time to start using it.
Hooray for lomo.

I hate thinking that I miss two summers ago.
I mean, I do...but there is no use in missing it.
It happened.
I had fun.
Now I'm here.
But the thing is, I don't really feel like I'm here. I don't know where I am.
I observe, but I don't process.
I keep it filed in my brain, waiting to examine it all later.
I guess I'm too frightened to really put myself in any position to fail.
Friendships.
Academics.
Spirituality.

I'm frightened. Of what, I'm not sure.
Which makes it worse, I guess.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-09-24T21:06:00

2008-09-25T02:13:51Z

Ok I'm only going to say this one time. If you're answering with "Hey guys," then that means that more than one person is on the same phone when they are calling you.
I am one person.
And a guy. Well, actually I'm a girl, but I would be the singular. So...you might want to think about that, because it's a little weird. "Hey guys," There's just one of me. Now I feel alone...and sad...that I don't hang out with more people.
To be more.
To be a plural.
Think about that Nikki.

-voice mail from my lovely sister, Tosha M. Barber.

Every time I change my voicemail, she has to critique it.
...
I love my family.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-09-08T21:53:00

2008-09-09T03:13:20Z

I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck. I have since only very rarely seen the tree with the lights in it. The vision comes and goes, mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the mountains slam.
- Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard

I have had this passage ringing in my mind ever since I got back from the backpacking trip I took in early August. Thought I might share.

Things are going...well. We do have a roommate. Her name is Haley, and she is one of the nicest people I've met. Plus, she's amazingly easy to live with. I'm getting used to my classes and dealing with the different teaching methods the professor's have. My French class is going to be a struggle for that reason, but besides that I'm enjoying them. I love my apartment, and I love my room. I haven't really been meeting a ton of people, but that will come when it comes. I'm really not worried. I am getting involved with this group called PSF, however. (Presbyterian Student Fellowship) So far they seem to be a really awesome group of people, and I think I'm going to enjoy learning with them.

I ride the shuttle to campus in the mornings, and I'm listening to my ipod, and I feel like I'm in a music video. Or a part of a movie where they play music over the actions. It's probably the best part of my mornings. (I don't even care how weird that sounds, it's true.)

I think I'm happy.
If I'm not, I'm pretty close.

Ah-oh little girl, psychotic reaction.

2008-08-06T01:32:25Z

I hate packing. I really, really do. I have no idea what to take. I have two boxes full of movies and dvds. I really should use the library more, but I like to ooown books. It's one of my weaknesses.

They still haven't told us who our third roommate is going to be. Fingers crossed they will just lock the room, and I will only have to pay three bedroom rent for a two bedroom. Score.

I'm going to have to get a job first semester, or I will not be eating. That is not going to go over well.
I really don't like all this growing up business.

And this is about the point in the entry when I realize that I have absolutely nothing to talk about.

Oh well.
(A little side note - I will marry Ben Gibbard. I will.)

Customs.

2008-06-25T22:42:18Z

I had orientation this week. It royally blew, but at least it's over.

Tentative First Semester Schedule

Monday, Wednesday, Friday

Mathematics for General Studies 910-1005
Introduction to Philosophy 1240-135

Tuesday, Thursday

Elementary French I 940-1105
Survey of United States History I 100-225
Foundations of Government 240-405

I'm really excited.
Nervous, but excited.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-06-19T21:38:00

2008-06-20T03:07:29Z

long time no post nikki.

basic life things/happenings.

-just got back from junior camp. i had tons of fun. those kids mean the world to me, and i love being a counselor. i think i would enjoy going to a real camp like that and being a counselor for a summer...but then again...maybe not.

-work for my dad now. WHAT? yea...

-i've been feeling kind of lonely lately for no real reason. i have no reason to, at all, i just do.

-i turned 18 and haven't done anything too crazy. i'm lame...basically. i did get red vans though. they make me happy.

-my shoulder's are getting those summer freckles. sweet june sunshine.

-regardless of that silly "lonely" whining a few bullets up, i am happy. exceedingly so. i take so much for granted, it's pathetic.

-i love when people randomly remember things about me. (quirks, pet peeves, favorite drinks) honestly, it makes me so happy. i don't know why. it's happened a few times recently. strange.

-i think i'm going backpacking in august. it's a long overdue trip. i need four days in the woods. woot. i miss it.

-mckay's=love

-i say "dude" too much.

-my deep love for the strokes has been reawakened. yeeees.

-life is good, man.

If I could have a say in my future life

2008-05-12T02:26:39Z

I would want a low stone house with shuttered windows and creeping ivy. A yard full of irises and poplar trees with a low fence. My grandmother's wrought iron bed covered in quilts. Minimal furniture and books everywhere. A lazy cat sleeping in the window sill. Cotton curtains. Sweet tea. Four pairs of shoes by the door. A big pair, a medium pair, and two tiny, dirty sets of sneakers. Lavender soap by the sink.
And light.
Lots of light.

Idealism at it's finest.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-04-19T22:51:00

2008-04-20T03:58:12Z

i think...my heart stopped during this.

i'm way too emotionally invested in this pretend relationship.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-04-07T23:03:00

2008-04-08T04:09:11Z

Jane Eyre is quite the book.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-03-26T19:38:00

2008-03-27T00:50:33Z

I cannot believe she is almost one.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-03-24T21:53:00

2008-03-25T03:07:01Z

Weirdest spring break ever.
I went to Chattanooga with my grandmother. It's a pretty neat town.
My grandmother would get lost in her own house. It was the most frustrating thing trying to explain the map to her.
Over.
and over.
and over.
But I love her.

i got this at a little folk art store in Chat.
i thought it was too great not to get.
i'm weird...i know.

Pray for my mom. She has to go in for a biopsy. Breast cancer runs in my family and she is worrying.
So...just keep her in your thoughts.
As well as Camryn Thompson and her family. Her dad passed away. It's entirely surreal.

i'm so tired of dealing with college people's crap.
you're in coooollege.
come on now.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-03-08T13:35:00

2008-03-08T19:41:36Z

Dear Common Sense and Composure,

Thanks for coming back. You were dearly missed.

Sincerely,
Nikki

P.S.
Next time you decide to run off like that, make sure it's worth it.

Goals to be accomplished sometime in the near future:

2008-02-28T04:50:30Z

1. Stop talking so damn much. It really is ridiculous.

2. Actually take the time to do my homework.

3. Throw away all the crap in my room. I mean, really. Decorative candles?

4. Be more frank. Being direct is not a bad thing.

5. Accept the fact that, honestly, nothing on this list will get done.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-02-21T20:55:00

2008-02-22T03:00:36Z

So, my sister forgot to record Lost for my mom tonight.

Time stands still in the Ward household.

Dum dum duuum.

In Heroes...

2008-02-21T04:21:36Z

Linderman looks like Colonel Sanders.

Just an observation.

kitschy_rcknrll @ 2008-02-18T01:05:00

2008-02-18T07:10:03Z

my sister lent me a book of charles bukowski poetry.

i didn't ask her.

it's so weird how well she knows me.