happy girls are the prettiest: Spittin' Game

Would you like the good news or the bad news first? Let's go with the bad news.

I didn't vote today. I am a horrible person.

Do you know how long it took African-Americans to obtain the right to vote?!

Do you know how long it took WOMEN to obtain the right to vote?!

And here I am, sitting in a coffee shop, relinquishing my civic duties all because I forgot to register.

Not to mention, "Vote in an election" is a goal on my Day Zero Project...

Anyway, I hope the rest of you were more responsible than me!

Ahh, time for the good news: I accomplished a goal!

053. Memorize a poem that I love

I took an Irish literature class last quarter

(hah! Last quarter! Because as of 11 AM today I am on summer vacation!)

and, although I was bored to tears in many of the lectures, I was exposed to some great authors

(Yeats and Joyce, welcome to my bookshelf. Make yourselves comfortable).

One of my favorite authors was William Butler Yeats.

That guy certainly had a way with words.

I posted one of his poems on my blog a couple weeks ago, if you remember?

I chose to memorize his poem, "When You Are Old," because it is easily the sweetest thing I have ever read.

So there I was, sitting in Barnes & Noble, wondering how I could prove to you that I have memorized it,

when I had an Aha! moment. I could record myself reciting it and post it on my blog!

However, since I, like most normal people, detest the sound of my own voice,

I decided I would record myself writing it!

(warning: this video is longer than I had realized! I thought I turned it
off after one minute! So ... I won't be sad if you stop watching haha)

As you can see, I was intercepted haha :)

I ended up talking to this old man for about an hour! Oh geez...

Anyway, I finished writing the poem. Bryan is my witness.

Here are the words, if you are interested:

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

♥

6.08.2010