Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Rachel's LiveJournal:

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Friday, September 4th, 2009
9:05 pm	beautiful, no? Who am I? I'm a fair-haired, freckled, blue-eyed girl, 22 for another few weeks. 5'3, athletic-ish body, small feet. (some have called me pretty. apparently i clean up well.) I work with animals for a living. Now dogs, soon a veterinary education. Yes, the pay's crap; yes, it's the best career in the world. I have a wonderful, supportive family and more friends than I could ever have hoped. I drink, smoke certain things on occasion, burp like a man, wear dirty socks. I'm somewhere between then and soon, walking the sunflower-lined side streets of Northeast Portland in my busted-up sneakers, pondering the pros and cons of living minimally. (I have very. Little. Money.) I'm fixing the cracks in the sidewalk of my life, the truly negative ones anyway. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009
6:52 am	in love again and as painful and beautiful as it always is, I find myself unable to leave. I'm always falling in love with cities. It's the best deal for everyone: there are no other women for your city. you do what you want, when you want. share private sunrise smiles before work. and when you need to leave, you are true to one another up to the very last moment. (and you can always come back.) glimpsed the foreboding end.
Saturday, August 22nd, 2009
7:02 pm	i am. i am Rachel. (though today is a lowercase day.) i am sad, tired, overly emotional, clingy, and lonely. i feel, as before, that i am a waste of the awesome person that Rachel actually is. she is smart, beautiful, interesting, talented. but i don't feel like Rachel. i feel that someone else, someone with more passion, would have played her role better - would have done more with it. maybe taken better care of her skin, her heart, done something with her hair, gotten better grades instead of dicking away a $100,000+ education. i wish i could be numb. in a way, i was doing better when i wasn't eating. i'd give anything to be 14 again. at home with Abby and Chesna, Lady and Philo, Moonie even. and my brother and parents. tall pines and a soft sweet breeze. (does that mean i've epic-failed at being an adult so far?) glimpsed the foreboding end.
Friday, August 21st, 2009
1:06 pm	summer of 2009. August 21. Slightly less heartbroken. Still in Portland, in the house, working there. Maggie the dog had a mast cell tumor removed on monday; I get the results by tomorrow. Clean margins - the tumor was removed completely! :) Grade 2, so we have to be careful and watch for regrowth, but this is very, very good news. I had a whole long, beautiful, angsty rant written, but happy news is happy news. There will be no more negativity today. I am in a city I love with good friends, good food, good health and a doggy on her way to recovery. The past is the past; the future is brighter. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Monday, August 3rd, 2009
8:58 pm	:) baby bluebirds on windowsills smile at mint chocolate kisses, barefoot in chicken poop - damn, it feels good to be a hippie. i am pretty fucking proud of myself. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, August 2nd, 2009
12:51 pm	let. let it go. let it be. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Friday, July 31st, 2009
11:00 am	end of july poor Maggie. it's been almost a month, yet I don't know if she'd recognize me without tears in my eyes. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Monday, July 27th, 2009
9:51 pm	portland, still. how good it feels, my beautiful city, to be able to write again. glimpsed the foreboding end.
9:34 pm	found The world had revolved for many a long night: rooms spinning, floors shifting, rusted hinges grating. Life itself had blurred to the point where trees were no longer recognizable. Sunsets burnt out into warm dry nights. The bluejay's feathers rumpled this way and that with the changing of the winds, first North then West; South and East had stopped to eat at Burgerville on Multnomah Boulevard. Thoughts flitted in and out of clear spaces without regard for the how and why of their movements. Today the spinning stopped. The front steps came to a slow gentle halt before a sign that read "This is your future." And I understood, sunset and bluejay and all. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Monday, July 20th, 2009
10:02 pm	. who am i kidding? i'm not a writer. glimpsed the foreboding end.
12:23 pm	quiet room portland summer days and nights, dawns and evenings quiet, bluebird babies with impolitely ruffled feathers flying low. it is hard to find the words for portland dusk. too beautiful. i feel myself grow. i feel my eyes rise to meet today tomorrow challenges the future. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Saturday, July 18th, 2009
1:24 pm	starting to believe that maybe life can be all these things: beautiful, sad, exciting, uplifting, depressing, disappointing, back to beautiful again, that maybe we really will all be ok, and i will find love with someone else. i'm entering the "smile because it happened," "in the end all that matters is that you loved" point. i never realized that i was the hopeless romantic, the one that wanted the happy ending, the one that would feel left behind. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Wednesday, July 15th, 2009
10:14 pm	a writer writes. if you want to be a writer, write. I sing in the shower sometimes softly, below the din of the water but loud enough to hear my own heart sing along. two dogs on the living room floor. one an alpha male, wolf-like and beautiful to behold, the other a shepherd mix, female: young, spry, expressive and loving. our pack feels complete. when I photograph animals, I do not seek to capture the physical grace of motion nor conformation, coloring or temperament. I ask the animal, "What are you thinking?" and their eyes, noses, ears, muzzles... reply. Portland summers are road construction, bicycle races, last Thursdays, drinking decathlons, green dried out, wildflowers tended to perfection. Perhaps I am the most upset about a summer breakup because the rain refuses to fall. My tears leave salty traces behind, redness, dryness. It is easy to curl up with a fleece blanket and cry: much harder when surrounded by brilliant blue skies, baby bluejays, happy pothead hipster couples. I am in a silly place. Because thinking does no good after four hours and I swear, if I cry one more time my contacts are going to be glued to my eyeballs. And being Rachel I'm trying to smile, laugh, cheer, stumble blindly through pain to the sunflower-lined roads ahead. I don't do "in pain" well anymore. I am the picture of perfect health: weight, hair, eyes. I am strong. I am strong, dealing, doing better every day, and yet I wish I could be small and broken. I feel like a hypocrite, crying and whining, when I look every bit of the perfect Rachel too many people know and love. Rachel is supposed to be happy, goofy, awkward, cow-obsessed, and driven. Rachel doesn't cry except when she watches sappy movies or drinks right before her period. I stared at myself in the mirror, deep blue eyes and long hair, toned legs and almost-perfect stomach, and I didn't look like the sort of person who should be in pain. Somewhere I switched trains - Jamaica, possibly, since we're always switching at Jamaica - and turned into this whole person. What the fuck? I asked my politely bewildered appearance. Since when am I pretty? Since when do people say, "Ah, that sucks, but you're dealing just fine"? Since when am I real? When did I turn into a person I can be proud of? It's like Corey would tell me. It gets better with time. It'll come out in the wash, Melanie's beautiful pig card reads. You will grow from this, Christy told me. And I believe all of this because I hold it to be true, and there is no doubt in my mind that one day soon I will, in fact, be fine. Perfectly imperfect, but perfectly ok. Since when am I the healthy one? glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, July 12th, 2009
1:26 pm	I have to leave Portland. It's the only way I'll make it through this mess. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Saturday, May 30th, 2009
7:29 pm	Writer's Block: Teaching Kids about Their Little Carbon Footprint What are some simple things we can teach kids to do to take care of Mother Nature? Sponsored by One Million Acts of Green brought to you by Cisco. View 191 Answers Recycle. Show them what the numbers on the bottom of containers mean, and which numbers are accepted in their town. Compost. Show them what can go in and what can't, how to start a compost pile or worm bin, how to maintain it, and what they get out of it. Garden. Show them how to grow their own food. Become an urban farmer. Let them raise chickens! Many towns and counties allow a certain number of chickens (or goats, turkeys...) without a permit. Get re-usable cloth bags for grocery shopping. Let them pick out their own: they come in many different sizes, colors and patterns. Show them that riding a bike or walking can be just as much fun (and better for the environment) than driving (when they're older). Don't litter, and respect nature. Teach them about plant and animal habitats and why they need to be protected. Keep the heat down in winter, AC down in summer. Eat less meat to have a (much) smaller carbon footprint. Turn off the lights when you leave a room. This, and so much more. Kids are so willing to learn about and respect Mother Nature - teaching them these simple yet vital acts now is a wonderful way to ensure tomorrow's leaders will be better equipped. To get started and do your own part, head on over to SixLinks.Org. These guys taught me more than sixteen years of education. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, May 17th, 2009
8:46 am	Wow, way to make me feel worthless. My cousin just made a really snotty comment about my job when I brought it up to her. Now I'm hiding from my family while they get ready for my grandmother's 95th birthday party. It's really frustrating to be in this position. I feel as though I've "let the family down" by not going straight into vet school. It makes me feel worthless, like I've let myself down as well. It makes me feel really, really bad. I'm going back to sleep. 1 Unicorn glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, May 10th, 2009
8:26 pm	what I have to offer I have come to terms with the fact that I am not a genius, a great orator, a natural leader, a musician, an artist, a supermodel. I am attractive but not striking, neither loud nor very quiet, a blade of grass in the great field of life: I am completely unremarkable and, so I've noticed, quite forgettable. Standing out is not (has never been) something I am able to offer the world. I cannot bring about great change or, indeed, much change at all as an introverted, humble dog daycare supervisor, after all. I don't mind that. I have something else. I am the woman who keeps an eye on the neighbor's dog; gives pep talks to new friends in distress; sits and listens carefully when the natural leaders of the world need a human whiteboard. I am a damned good person, and I will do anything in my power to make life better for those around me. I don't kill mosquitoes, for fuck's sake. I am the target audience of every tearjerker animal movie ever released. I. Feel. Things. I feel things deeply, too much, too hard, too powerful to forget. My smile is as wide as my tears are free. I listen. I care. I am the person who will. I am the person who does. And somehow, some way, I will change the world. Somehow, some way, some windy day. Why wait, anyway? glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, April 26th, 2009
1:45 pm	here now. happy now. My parents are on a plane, headed back to New York. I'll be there for a visit in 3 weeks. Pancakes happened at noon. Chickens are looking good. Their droppings are back to being solid and light brown. (yay for healthy GI tracts!) I'm in a good good good place. In so many respects. :) I feel inspired: to write, to love, to dance, to run, to hobbit around my backyard watering plants and feeding the chickens. But mostly I feel inspired to live. Perhaps green is my favorite color, after all. glimpsed the foreboding end.
Sunday, April 5th, 2009
9:26 pm	saturday market... on sunday. There is something I will never, ever stop loving: the feeling I get after a long weekend in the sun when the house is still warm and all the windows are open and i know i've gotten a bit too much sun. i can feel the slight warmth in my face, on my scalp. not enough to hurt, just... just enough to feel really, really good. happy happiness is warm air and a suntan, and extra freckles. 1 Unicorn glimpsed the foreboding end.
Saturday, April 4th, 2009
3:24 pm	spring. Damn. My life is pretty amazing. glimpsed the foreboding end.