song of the week: jim croce - photograph sand memories.

It's fitting for many, many reasons. And I cry every time.


Photographs and memories
Christmas cards you sent to me
All that I have are these to remember you
Memories that come at night
Take me to another time
Back to a happier day, when I called you mine

But we sure had a good time
When we started way back when
Morning walks and bedroom talks
Oh, how I loved you then

Summer skies and lullabies
Nights we couldn't say goodbye
And of all of the things that we knew
Not a dream survived

Photographs and memories
All the love you gave to me
Somehow it just can't be true
It's all I've left of you

But we sure had a good time
When we started way back when
Morning walks and bedroom talks
Oh, how I loved you then

my fingers are rusty.

Right now I'm just sitting in my room. On my bed. With music playing. Bunny drinking his water... which happens to be one of the loudest noises that you would think wouldn't be so noisy. And i'm drinking water out of a mason jar... not because I'm hip and have these chic ideas on how to turn old junk into cute household items but because when you live with five people, sometimes an old jar is the only thing you can find to drink out of. So that's my Saturday.

I worked today. Which is something I'm not going to cry about. Yeah, it's not the ideal way to spend a Saturday but I get paid extra for working on Saturdays. And let's be real... what else would I really be doing.

Right now I'm really loving coconut oil. I put it all over my face and it makes it soft. Unfortunately, coconut oil doesn't give you a new, better face. But it does give you a face that is at least soft.

I just heard a lyric that made my insides shift sudden and low. It said

"when I see you again,
and i'm greeted as a friend,
it is understood,
we did all that we could."

I didn't really have a reason to start this post, but I just felt like my head and heart were very full and I needed an outlet. Before I started typing this I was just looking at my blog. I sat and thought as I stared at "Just Add Kaleena" in rainbow at the top of the page of this blog. The top of my stories and thoughts and feelings, and it suddenly registered to me how many different times I have logged in here and all the things that have happened to me since. The first time, that rainy Saturday when I was laying in (at the time) mine and Steve's bed and decided I should start a blog. Kaleena, why didn't you start this sooner? There have been so many special and precious moments these last six years. But I guess you can never truly know the value of a moment until it is a memory. When I think of this blog, what I see in my head is our (mine and Steve's) old apartment living room in the Avenues lit by the floor lamp that we bought together from Big Lots, me on my laptop - Steve on his. Family Guy/Scrubs/Fraiser on TV. Either super STICKY hot or teeth chattering cold-hiding under layers of blankets, and typing on here. Occasionally Steve and I would glance at each other to share a laugh at what just happened on TV. Some people would look at that and think "you guys just spent time on your computers when you could have been doing so much more" but no. Those times, to both of us, are our most treasured times because Steve and I were so connected that we felt connected and at peace with each other no matter what we were doing. It's one of those things that we could spend the whole day in silence but at the end of the day feel like we've had the best conversation. They were comfortable silences. Not everyone can understand that. It's something I am certain I will never share with anyone else in this life. It is so rare and I'm so grateful I got to experience that feeling with another human, even if it was just for a short time. Our time together was short but it was the best time of my life. But was it cause it was our first love? Or because we were just in sync? I don't know. Other times when I logged in here it was after I just had the worst day, emotions all over the place and needed to put it out into words. And other times was just when I was silly and wanted to be silly on the internet. And now to this time.... me alone, reflecting on my past and realizing that nothing around me is permanent. Everything is temporary except for the love in your heart. I don't know where all this is coming from... there is a good chance that when I read this tomorrow I will just scratch my head. But sometimes the best way to understand how you are feeling is to write it down.

merry christmas eve.

Have a Merry Christmas Eve and a Merry Christmas when it's tomorrow.

I plan to stay home tonight and watch Home Alone and Futurama.

Drink some Mountain Dew. Snack on some kettle corn.

Last Saturday, as a giant group, we went to Temple Square to see the Christmas lights.
It was okay.
Then we walked around City Creek to warm up a bit and because what else were we gonna do?

But Christmas lights on a bare tree is one my favorite things and one of the prettiest things to me.

It never gets old.

I wish Christmas lights were on trees all year round.

Alysha on the left and me on the right.
If one good thing came out of 2013, it's that I became really good friends with Alysha. I wish everyone could have a friend like her.

Instagram: kaleena__

can't concentrate.

One time when I was in 5th grade, I found out that all of my friends were talking bad about me behind my back. When I found out, all I wanted to do was take the hall-pass to the bathroom and cry.

Cry.
Cry.
Cry.

But I didn't. I held it in and acted like I didn't care and saved it til I got home. When I got home, I screamed as loud and as hard as I could into my pillow.

And I felt so much better.

It turns out, this method still works wonderfully today. But it kind of makes me feel like a crazy.

5th grade Kaleena was brilliant.

sometimes.

Sometimes you never get used to it and you just have to live with it.

Sometimes you just have to ask yourself to deal with it.

And sometimes when you are okay with dealing with it,

it all finally gets better.

And you find you had the courage all along.

that day was mine.

Just so you know

I loved everything about today.

-the spectacular weather
-the text messages
-my outfit
-the wonderful food
-the people
-work (shocking, i know)
-the music that came on during my shuffle on my ipod
-the everything

from j street to r street.

Is there anything worse than an appalling roommate? Besides stepping on a lego piece while barefoot? Or somebody with sweaty hands playing with your hair? Or thinking your roomate is out in the stairwell so you rip the door open to suprise/scare him but it's only the tenants across the hall judging you? The answer to all of the above is, no. nuh-uh. nope.

I would hate to bombinate you with poor-poor me stories of "roommates that made me want to nail myself to the road on the freeway" so I will keep it lucid.

Steve and I went through 8 months of complete anguish. Hell. Pandemonium!! That's how we ended up in our apartment here on R street in fact. Long, tragic, story short: we were graced with two roommates. great guys as individuals, terrible as roommates. we cut our lease short. did celebratory dances (think:celtic river dancing) when we got approved for apartment (just me and Steve). pack our boxes while cursing the house under our breath. settle into our new home. and we are living happily ever after on R street.

Why am I telling you this? Great question. I'm glad you asked! I'm telling you this because even though we were apart from done with that Cambodian snake pit back in February, I still had some of my belongings stored there. Today was the last day for me to get them out. Are you ready to have your mind blown?

I was an emotion wreck getting my things out of that house! Not emotional as in rage black outs but of pure sorrow of being officially done with the place. I mean, it was the first house me and Steve shared together. Silent memories were rolling in my head at the certain places I looked and remembered. Treasured. Retreasured?

When the room was empty, I took a final look, a breath, ignored the tears in my eyes and left our first home drowning in the feeling of melancholy.

same stuff, different day.

Bleh.

It's funny, I always come to my snoop bloggy blog ready to say something and then I catch myself 7 minutes later, dazing off at something across the room on our bookshelf.

I have an excellent memory. You should be jealous of my excellent memory. I remember a lot of things people don't even notice. Then I realized something today... this is turning into an ugly, bad thing. I mean, sure, memories are a great thing to contain! They are tied to you when they happen; when you feel like you are about to explode with whatever emotion you were feeling when the memory was created so it would always be there with you. To remind you. To teach you.

I feel like my memories have put me in a prison. I get so caught up in swimming in them, that I am missing what is going on around me NOW. That's all there is to it. I'm tired of starting every sentence with 'remember when' or 'i'll never forget' It's impossible to live in the present when you are trapped in the past. Now that I think about it, this is probably exactly why I have been feeling the way I have been.

If anyone finds the OFF or PAUSE button for your head, I would just love to know. :-)