Me: I need to get ready...so you still have time to find Jesus and Hitler.
Ashley: I'm going to find the best Jesus.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
An open letter to our marketing department...
from an 11-year-old who came to my office on some sort of lame (but deemed "educational") field trip.
And my response.
(If you cannot just squint your eyes and read the print, double click and it should take you to flickr where you can change the image size.)
And my response.
(If you cannot just squint your eyes and read the print, double click and it should take you to flickr where you can change the image size.)
Monday, December 24, 2007
The hopes and fears of all the years...
are met in thee tonight.
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town.
And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."
And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:
"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."
When the angels went away from them to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."
So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.
Luke 2:1-20
Merry Christmas...from my home* to yours!
* The Anderson-McFarland household...pictured above.
In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. This was the first enrollment, when Quirinius was governor of Syria. So all went to be enrolled, each to his own town.
And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."
And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:
"Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."
When the angels went away from them to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us."
So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.
Luke 2:1-20
Merry Christmas...from my home* to yours!
* The Anderson-McFarland household...pictured above.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
dinosaur valley = dinosaur awesome
Not too terribly long ago, Grant and I ventured into a land of dinosaur tracks and poorly marked trails known as Dinosaur Valley State Park.
This magical land is less than two hours away from my house, but sadly I had never visited. The day included over six miles of hiking, encounters with dinosaurs (See Exhibits J-O) and poisonous berries (see Exhibit C), crossing a river by jumping from rock to rock (and subsequently getting my feet wet), fruit snacks, a guy in an Indiana Jones hat, and a few dinosaur tracks (created by the government I am sure).
I have included photographic evidence of the day-trip below, so you can share in the awesomeness.
A.
We were disappointed to see that fire was not allowed in the woods. I cannot fathom why they have this ludicrous rule. We put our Zippos back in the car, defeated.
B.
Rules were everywhere. No fire allowed. Keep out. Pish posh. We hopped the fence.
C.
We soon realized why they were trying to keep us out. They didn't want anyone else to know about their collection of brightly-colored poisonous berries.
D.
Behind the fence, they were also hiding beautiful, fall-colored leaves. One of my favorite things about fall.
E.
In hiking down the river, we saw a group of fellow hikers at the peak. We immediately decided this was our destination. Once we got there, the view was great. But the fruit snacks and M&Ms were better.
F.
On the way back down, we stumbled upon many paths that looked like maybe one or two other people had ever walked down them. If I had had a compass on me, I would have been using it at this point. I am not Eagle Scout. Luckily for me, Grant is.
G.
And sometimes taking "the road less traveled" does end up making all the difference, because you find little secluded areas that may have been a secret hang out spot for only the hippest dinosaurs. Or maybe it was where the T-Rex Kiwanis Club held weekly meetings. Who wouldn't want to hold parties at a hidden pond?! (Note the reflection of the trees in the water. I loved that.)
H.
Surrounding the pond was a short wall with tiny waterfalls and stalactites. It was pretty cool. I think "stalactite" is Latin for an ancient, gooey, hangy-down thing.
I.
We heard this path was "chock-full of dinosaur sightings", so we were excited to begin our journey down this trail and back to the truck.
J.
First, we came upon the Brontosaurus. Edgar was a friendly dinosaur, but he was too big to capture in one frame, though I tried.
K.
Edgar did not like the angle of the first shot, being that it wasn't his "best side", so I took another photograph to appease him. When you are around something that big, you generally do what they ask. He still didn't fit in the frame, though I believe the side angle is far more slimming.
L.
I was trying to capture Edgar's charming smirk when, out of nowhere, the mighty T-Rex appeared. When I stood on Edgar's back to shake hands with the T-Rex (because my mother taught me the importance of social manners), he introduced himself as Francis.
M.
When I laughed at his name (not meaning to, but a T-Rex named Franis?!?), he got very angry. Not cool.
N.
Francis began to growl and throw punches with his tiny T-Rex arms and I knew I had to act fast. Grant was hiding behind Edgar. Edgar had his tail whipped around, covering his squinty Brontosaurus eyes. So, still on Edgar's back, I leaned in incredibly close (I know it was a stupid, dangerous move) and took a Polaroid* (it came out far too blurry to post). The flash threw Francis off and in all the chaos he lost his balance and toppled over on his side. I had single-handedly taken down the T-Rex. I was filled with adrenaline (and probably sugar from the fruit snacks and M&Ms), but it was still, by far, the scariest moment on our trip to Dinosaur Valley.
O.
Or so I thought. About 3/4 of a mile later, we ran into this monster. I can tell you right now...you have never experienced this kind of fear, and I pray to God you never will.
P.
As we peeled out of the park, we saw this large yellow sign. At first, after what we had seen on our trip, I wasn't sure we should ever return. After all, it was pretty treacherous at certain points. But Grant assured me that with a high-powered camera flash, a state of the art taser gun and maybe a machete, we can most definitely take on an army of 100 dinosaurs. Unless one of them is a Velociraptor. Then we'd be dead for sure. I mean, you've seen Jurassic Park.
* A special thanks goes to Ashley Anderson, for being awesome and purchasing the Polaroid camera and film...a wonderful gift that would later save my life.
This magical land is less than two hours away from my house, but sadly I had never visited. The day included over six miles of hiking, encounters with dinosaurs (See Exhibits J-O) and poisonous berries (see Exhibit C), crossing a river by jumping from rock to rock (and subsequently getting my feet wet), fruit snacks, a guy in an Indiana Jones hat, and a few dinosaur tracks (created by the government I am sure).
I have included photographic evidence of the day-trip below, so you can share in the awesomeness.
A.
We were disappointed to see that fire was not allowed in the woods. I cannot fathom why they have this ludicrous rule. We put our Zippos back in the car, defeated.
B.
Rules were everywhere. No fire allowed. Keep out. Pish posh. We hopped the fence.
C.
We soon realized why they were trying to keep us out. They didn't want anyone else to know about their collection of brightly-colored poisonous berries.
D.
Behind the fence, they were also hiding beautiful, fall-colored leaves. One of my favorite things about fall.
E.
In hiking down the river, we saw a group of fellow hikers at the peak. We immediately decided this was our destination. Once we got there, the view was great. But the fruit snacks and M&Ms were better.
F.
On the way back down, we stumbled upon many paths that looked like maybe one or two other people had ever walked down them. If I had had a compass on me, I would have been using it at this point. I am not Eagle Scout. Luckily for me, Grant is.
G.
And sometimes taking "the road less traveled" does end up making all the difference, because you find little secluded areas that may have been a secret hang out spot for only the hippest dinosaurs. Or maybe it was where the T-Rex Kiwanis Club held weekly meetings. Who wouldn't want to hold parties at a hidden pond?! (Note the reflection of the trees in the water. I loved that.)
H.
Surrounding the pond was a short wall with tiny waterfalls and stalactites. It was pretty cool. I think "stalactite" is Latin for an ancient, gooey, hangy-down thing.
I.
We heard this path was "chock-full of dinosaur sightings", so we were excited to begin our journey down this trail and back to the truck.
J.
First, we came upon the Brontosaurus. Edgar was a friendly dinosaur, but he was too big to capture in one frame, though I tried.
K.
Edgar did not like the angle of the first shot, being that it wasn't his "best side", so I took another photograph to appease him. When you are around something that big, you generally do what they ask. He still didn't fit in the frame, though I believe the side angle is far more slimming.
L.
I was trying to capture Edgar's charming smirk when, out of nowhere, the mighty T-Rex appeared. When I stood on Edgar's back to shake hands with the T-Rex (because my mother taught me the importance of social manners), he introduced himself as Francis.
M.
When I laughed at his name (not meaning to, but a T-Rex named Franis?!?), he got very angry. Not cool.
N.
Francis began to growl and throw punches with his tiny T-Rex arms and I knew I had to act fast. Grant was hiding behind Edgar. Edgar had his tail whipped around, covering his squinty Brontosaurus eyes. So, still on Edgar's back, I leaned in incredibly close (I know it was a stupid, dangerous move) and took a Polaroid* (it came out far too blurry to post). The flash threw Francis off and in all the chaos he lost his balance and toppled over on his side. I had single-handedly taken down the T-Rex. I was filled with adrenaline (and probably sugar from the fruit snacks and M&Ms), but it was still, by far, the scariest moment on our trip to Dinosaur Valley.
O.
Or so I thought. About 3/4 of a mile later, we ran into this monster. I can tell you right now...you have never experienced this kind of fear, and I pray to God you never will.
P.
As we peeled out of the park, we saw this large yellow sign. At first, after what we had seen on our trip, I wasn't sure we should ever return. After all, it was pretty treacherous at certain points. But Grant assured me that with a high-powered camera flash, a state of the art taser gun and maybe a machete, we can most definitely take on an army of 100 dinosaurs. Unless one of them is a Velociraptor. Then we'd be dead for sure. I mean, you've seen Jurassic Park.
* A special thanks goes to Ashley Anderson, for being awesome and purchasing the Polaroid camera and film...a wonderful gift that would later save my life.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
CSS + creative liberty= music madlibs
I will now replace the word "music" in the song Music is My Hot Hot Sex by CSS.
From all the drugs, the one I like more is words.
From all the junks, the one I need more is love.
From all the boys, the one I take home is J.D. Salinger.
From all the ladies, the one I kiss is a canine.
Paris is my boyfriend.
London is my girlfriend.
Mexico is my dead end.
My journal is my imaginary friend.
Miles is my brother.
Melia IV is my great-granddaughter.
Miles in a dress is my sister.
Lifetime Television for Women is my favorite mistress.
From all the s**t, the one I gotta buy is Diet Coke.
From all the jobs, the one I choose is professional traveler.
From all the drinks, I get drunk off wit.
From all the b******s, the one I wanna be is Beyonce.
Scotland is my beach house.
The danger zone is my hometown.
Weekends are my king size bed.
Coffee is where I meet my friends.
Chenin Blanc is my hot, hot bath.
Dessert is my hot, hot sex.
Pilates is my backrub.
My neck is where I'd like you to touch.
From all the drugs, the one I like more is words.
From all the junks, the one I need more is love.
From all the boys, the one I take home is J.D. Salinger.
From all the ladies, the one I kiss is a canine.
Paris is my boyfriend.
London is my girlfriend.
Mexico is my dead end.
My journal is my imaginary friend.
Miles is my brother.
Melia IV is my great-granddaughter.
Miles in a dress is my sister.
Lifetime Television for Women is my favorite mistress.
From all the s**t, the one I gotta buy is Diet Coke.
From all the jobs, the one I choose is professional traveler.
From all the drinks, I get drunk off wit.
From all the b******s, the one I wanna be is Beyonce.
Scotland is my beach house.
The danger zone is my hometown.
Weekends are my king size bed.
Coffee is where I meet my friends.
Chenin Blanc is my hot, hot bath.
Dessert is my hot, hot sex.
Pilates is my backrub.
My neck is where I'd like you to touch.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Haiku: Part 7 of 7
I don't understand
why it is called a toothbrush
when it's a teethbrush.
the end.
why it is called a toothbrush
when it's a teethbrush.
the end.
Friday, December 07, 2007
This day would be much better...
if I had one of these to greet me at the door.
We're talking exponentially, really a lot better.
We're talking exponentially, really a lot better.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Something has to give...
I am officially lazy and have been putting off a blog post complete with photos, etc. simply because I'm not "feeling" it right this moment. So, I thought I would buy myself some time by posting these incredible lyrics by Miss KT Tunstall. Lyrically, I believe this is the strongest song off of her latest musical offering, "Drastic Fantastic". Check it out. Personally, it was a bit of a let down after her debut album, "Eye to the Telescope". But, I suppose it's difficult to create genius of the same caliber back to back.
Anyway, maybe this weekend I will discover the gumption to post something written by me. Novel idea.
Paper Aeroplane by KT Tunstall
Well, this stone that I have swallowed
isn't going down so well.
And this road that I have followed
is leading me to hell.
And you said it didn't matter,
but I think you're a liar.
Is this one of your talents
that stokes the very fire that burns you
each time you try to live?
The earth will turn below you.
The pressure is building
and something has to give.
And when I build you a steeple
you say it's incomplete.
'Cause you need the whole cathedral
to satisfy your need.
And you're like a paper aeroplane
that never seems to land.
Flying blind through anything
straight into the hand that chokes you
each time you try to live.
And the earth will turn below you.
The pressure is building
and something has to give.
Something has to give.
Something has to give.
Something has to give.
Anyway, maybe this weekend I will discover the gumption to post something written by me. Novel idea.
Paper Aeroplane by KT Tunstall
Well, this stone that I have swallowed
isn't going down so well.
And this road that I have followed
is leading me to hell.
And you said it didn't matter,
but I think you're a liar.
Is this one of your talents
that stokes the very fire that burns you
each time you try to live?
The earth will turn below you.
The pressure is building
and something has to give.
And when I build you a steeple
you say it's incomplete.
'Cause you need the whole cathedral
to satisfy your need.
And you're like a paper aeroplane
that never seems to land.
Flying blind through anything
straight into the hand that chokes you
each time you try to live.
And the earth will turn below you.
The pressure is building
and something has to give.
Something has to give.
Something has to give.
Something has to give.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
I really really really...
want to open my Wii and play tennis. But I made a stupid promise to my mother that I would wait until Christmas. And I forgot to cross my fingers when making said promise.
So...it's just sitting in the dumb box, waiting to be played. It makes me sad.
Instead I am watching the newest additions to the apartment-- a replacement fish (John Adams) and a frog (the First Lady)-- chase each other around the bowl. No substitute for the Wii. Not at all.
28 days and counting.
Snap.
Postscript: R.I.P. George Washington (the very handsome beta that lived with us for almost two years). Your flamboyant fins will be missed by many.
So...it's just sitting in the dumb box, waiting to be played. It makes me sad.
Instead I am watching the newest additions to the apartment-- a replacement fish (John Adams) and a frog (the First Lady)-- chase each other around the bowl. No substitute for the Wii. Not at all.
28 days and counting.
Snap.
Postscript: R.I.P. George Washington (the very handsome beta that lived with us for almost two years). Your flamboyant fins will be missed by many.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate...
...Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
--Marianne Williamson
--Marianne Williamson
Thursday, November 15, 2007
I am sitting in my cubicle thinking about...
the conversations that would ensue after someone uses this product.
Play-Doh Cologne Spray
Eau de Play-Doh?!
In my head, it would go a little something like this:
(Elevator in a high-rise office building)
Doors open. Man enters. Stands next to woman.
Awkward silence.
Woman: Why, what is that whimsical scent?! It's...reminiscent of my...childhood.
Man: It sparked a memory for you, eh?! Good...good. Yeah, it's just this new Play-Doh Cologne. Brings back all of those fresh-from-the-can, full-of-potential childhood memories! Pretty awesome, huh?!
Doors open. Woman exits.
Woman (mumbling): Um, yeah...pretty...awesome.
And I had several other conversational scenarios in my head, but really...the end result was always confusion, curiosity, and even disbelief. Because...why?! Why would anyone choose to smell like a can of Play-Doh? Sure. I love Play-Doh and when you take off the lid there are memories associated with its very distinctive smell. But I also love the smells of the following items, though I would not want to smell like them (including but not limited to, and in no particular order): leather, puppy breath, Mr. Bubble Bubble Bath, cookies, gardenias, old/new books, rubber cement, garlic, new car, bananas, babies, crayons, rain, pie (pumpkin or otherwise), autumn. So, the point is...just because you love how something smells and the fact that it evokes memories of yesteryear does not in any way mean that you need to purchase that smell in liquid form and dab it on your pressure points. You can (and probably should) love these smells from a distance...have your nostalgic moment...and leave it at that. A moment. Not an all-day experience for anyone that comes within a 10-foot radius of you.
Play-Doh Cologne Spray
Eau de Play-Doh?!
In my head, it would go a little something like this:
(Elevator in a high-rise office building)
Doors open. Man enters. Stands next to woman.
Awkward silence.
Woman: Why, what is that whimsical scent?! It's...reminiscent of my...childhood.
Man: It sparked a memory for you, eh?! Good...good. Yeah, it's just this new Play-Doh Cologne. Brings back all of those fresh-from-the-can, full-of-potential childhood memories! Pretty awesome, huh?!
Doors open. Woman exits.
Woman (mumbling): Um, yeah...pretty...awesome.
And I had several other conversational scenarios in my head, but really...the end result was always confusion, curiosity, and even disbelief. Because...why?! Why would anyone choose to smell like a can of Play-Doh? Sure. I love Play-Doh and when you take off the lid there are memories associated with its very distinctive smell. But I also love the smells of the following items, though I would not want to smell like them (including but not limited to, and in no particular order): leather, puppy breath, Mr. Bubble Bubble Bath, cookies, gardenias, old/new books, rubber cement, garlic, new car, bananas, babies, crayons, rain, pie (pumpkin or otherwise), autumn. So, the point is...just because you love how something smells and the fact that it evokes memories of yesteryear does not in any way mean that you need to purchase that smell in liquid form and dab it on your pressure points. You can (and probably should) love these smells from a distance...have your nostalgic moment...and leave it at that. A moment. Not an all-day experience for anyone that comes within a 10-foot radius of you.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
I'll stand if you want me to...
If you have not heard of Serena Ryder, do yourself a favor. Recently, I have had the good fortune of seeing concerts with opening acts I have never heard of and then instantaneously grown to love (in some cases more than the bands I have actually gone to see). Surprising opening acts as of late include: A Fine Frenzy opened for Brandi Carlile...awesome. Grand Ole Party and The Bird and the Bee opened for Rilo Kiey...very yes. The Start opened for Kenna and She Wants Revenge...pretty yes. And Serena Ryder opened for Sara Bareilles and Paolo Nutini...incredible. I highly recommend purchasing her Joplin-esque EP, Told You In A Whispered Song, from iTunes. It's only $4.49; you can't beat that. I mean, unless you steal it. And if anyone "official" is reading this...I never ever ever ever never ever hardly ever steal music.
Below are lyrics to one of my favorite (I cannot pick a favorite off of the EP...they are all too good) Serena Ryder songs. Also, check out Brand New Love. Enjoy!
Weak In The Knees
Would you mind if I pretended we were somewhere else,
doing something we wanted to?
'Cause all this living makes me wanna do
is die 'cause I can't live with you,
and you don't even care.
Would you mind if I pretended I was someone else,
with courage in love and war?
I use to think that's what I was,
but now this lying hurts too much,
and I don't know what for.
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong and I'll move on,
but honey I'm weak in the knees.
Would you mind if I walked over and I kissed your face
in front of all of your friends?
Would you mind if I got drunk and said
I wanna take you home to bed?
Oh, would you change your mind?
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong and I'll move on,
but honey I'm weak in the knees.
It was over, it's over before it began.
I'm a witness to love...
why can't you understand?
I won't give up my heart.
I won't sell you my soul.
Don't you know it was you?
You could have had it all.
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong. I'll move on.
Honey, I'm weak.
Oh, honey I'm weak for you.
For you.
Below are lyrics to one of my favorite (I cannot pick a favorite off of the EP...they are all too good) Serena Ryder songs. Also, check out Brand New Love. Enjoy!
Weak In The Knees
Would you mind if I pretended we were somewhere else,
doing something we wanted to?
'Cause all this living makes me wanna do
is die 'cause I can't live with you,
and you don't even care.
Would you mind if I pretended I was someone else,
with courage in love and war?
I use to think that's what I was,
but now this lying hurts too much,
and I don't know what for.
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong and I'll move on,
but honey I'm weak in the knees.
Would you mind if I walked over and I kissed your face
in front of all of your friends?
Would you mind if I got drunk and said
I wanna take you home to bed?
Oh, would you change your mind?
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong and I'll move on,
but honey I'm weak in the knees.
It was over, it's over before it began.
I'm a witness to love...
why can't you understand?
I won't give up my heart.
I won't sell you my soul.
Don't you know it was you?
You could have had it all.
I'm weak in the knees for you,
but I'll stand if you want me to.
My legs are strong. I'll move on.
Honey, I'm weak.
Oh, honey I'm weak for you.
For you.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
A room full of dragons and superheroes...
This morning, as I walked out the door and down to my car, a grim reaper whizzed by in a golf cart. I immediately thought, hmm... I hope this is not some sort of foreshadowing of my day.
Turns out, it was just the crazy apartment maintenance guy in his Halloween attire. Nice.
I like to think of my encounter with the "reaper" as a warm up for the rest of the day. When I got to work I was barraged with people in costume. I ran into Barbie and a black cat (more possible foreshadowing?) in the parking lot. When I stepped out of the elevator and onto the second floor I immediately saw a devil, a fairy, and Spiderman. It was all very surreal. In having to take a few things up to the third floor I ran into a ghost, Snow White, the doppelgänger of the grim reaper from earlier, several witches, and Skipper from Gilligan's Island. Mind you this was all before 9 a.m. I could have done without the second grim reaper of the morning. But, I figured that with Snow White and the grim reaper in the same room...maybe the good would outweigh the evil...or they would at least cancel each other out, right?
I have never been a big fan of Halloween. I suppose I am my mother's daughter and she passed on her loathing of the holiday to me. I mean, sure...I enjoy seeing kids dressed up. They're so happy shoving various chocolate creations into their hollowed out plastic jack-o-lanterns. I remember getting dressed up several times as a child. I had a ladybug costume I was quite fond of. There was also a pumpkin costume that I was in love with. I remember putting it on at random times throughout the year just because I thought it was awesome. It had this little hat that looked like the top of the pumpkin and it had this tiny stem and white elastic chin strap. Looking back, it was in fact awesome. I would wear it right now if I still had it. I think I might have also been a witch at one time...maybe. And I was a hobo (I'm sure there is a more politically correct way to say that) once or twice. There were always church carnivals with bean bag games and plastic sacks we would fill up with delicious snacks. And I know I like these very specific Halloween cookies that are orange and shaped like pumpkins. They have no sort of decoration at all. They are not glamorous. In fact, they are made by grocery store bakeries. I don't even recall them being that flavorful, but I love them. And to me, that's Halloween.
Growing up in a Halloween-hating house...and in a genius move by my parents...my brothers and I actually got excited about playing a little game I like to remember as turn-off-all-of-the-lights-both-inside-and-outside-the-house-
and-ignore-the-doorbell-as-children-approach-reciting-trick-or-treat. What a fantastic pastime! I can remember my brother and I peaking out from behind the curtains in the living room thinking we were pulling something over on the poor kids outside. "No candy for you...suckers! Yeah, that's right. Just walk away. Hahaha!" Never...not once did we stop and think, wait. Wait just a minute. We're sitting at home in the dark...in our pajamas. It's 8 o'clock. Those kids are outside getting candy. We're stuck in our living room huddled around a pizza watching Uncle Buck and we think the joke is on them?! Oh, come on. But yeah, we never thought it. Maybe we were just slow on the uptake, but I remember being perfectly content and thinking the kids outside posing as Batman or Cinderella were dumb. Were we jaded or is it just a McFarland thing? A tradition of some sort? Who knows.
So today, I kept a running tally of all of the costumes I saw. I mean, why not have my own fun with this holiday?! So, when I made mental notes, I played a little game. Have any of you ever been asked: If you could invite 3 people, dead or alive, to dinner, who would you invite? Well, I thought about each of these costumes/characters (not necessarily the people in them, but rather what they were portraying) being invited to my fantasy dinner party, and the possibilities are both delightful and endless. I will list them below. Read them and let your imagination run wild. Thoughts of my dinner party and the chosen hors d’oeuvres and cocktails got me through the last hour of work today. I think it would be the best dinner party ever and, of course, I would request that the dinner party be held on Halloween, because maybe if I had something super awesome happen on this day my thoughts about the festivities would change radically.
1. Grim Reaper
2. Black Cat
3. Barbie
4. Devil
5. Fairy
6. Spiderman
7. Ghost
8. Snow White
9. Skipper
10. Witch
11. Batman
12. Superman
13. Harry Potter
14. Supergirl
15. Clark Kent
16. Dragon
17. T-Rex
18. Bob the Builder
19. Minnie Mouse
20. Wizard
21. Unicorn
22. Stitch (from Lilo and Stitch)
23. Woody (from Toy Story)
24. Dorothy (from The Wizard of Oz)
25. Princesss
26. Cowboy
27. Indian
28. Monkey
29. Tooth Fairy
30. Little Red Riding Hood
31. Pirate
32. Dog
33. Gypsy
34. Tony Romo
35. Giant Lego
Imagine them all around a large dining room table. Maybe they have silver goblets and bibs. Maybe they are passing side dishes from person to person while the unicorn refills their beverages. Maybe the T-Rex starts a food fight. As I said...possibilities. Endless.
Turns out, it was just the crazy apartment maintenance guy in his Halloween attire. Nice.
I like to think of my encounter with the "reaper" as a warm up for the rest of the day. When I got to work I was barraged with people in costume. I ran into Barbie and a black cat (more possible foreshadowing?) in the parking lot. When I stepped out of the elevator and onto the second floor I immediately saw a devil, a fairy, and Spiderman. It was all very surreal. In having to take a few things up to the third floor I ran into a ghost, Snow White, the doppelgänger of the grim reaper from earlier, several witches, and Skipper from Gilligan's Island. Mind you this was all before 9 a.m. I could have done without the second grim reaper of the morning. But, I figured that with Snow White and the grim reaper in the same room...maybe the good would outweigh the evil...or they would at least cancel each other out, right?
I have never been a big fan of Halloween. I suppose I am my mother's daughter and she passed on her loathing of the holiday to me. I mean, sure...I enjoy seeing kids dressed up. They're so happy shoving various chocolate creations into their hollowed out plastic jack-o-lanterns. I remember getting dressed up several times as a child. I had a ladybug costume I was quite fond of. There was also a pumpkin costume that I was in love with. I remember putting it on at random times throughout the year just because I thought it was awesome. It had this little hat that looked like the top of the pumpkin and it had this tiny stem and white elastic chin strap. Looking back, it was in fact awesome. I would wear it right now if I still had it. I think I might have also been a witch at one time...maybe. And I was a hobo (I'm sure there is a more politically correct way to say that) once or twice. There were always church carnivals with bean bag games and plastic sacks we would fill up with delicious snacks. And I know I like these very specific Halloween cookies that are orange and shaped like pumpkins. They have no sort of decoration at all. They are not glamorous. In fact, they are made by grocery store bakeries. I don't even recall them being that flavorful, but I love them. And to me, that's Halloween.
Growing up in a Halloween-hating house...and in a genius move by my parents...my brothers and I actually got excited about playing a little game I like to remember as turn-off-all-of-the-lights-both-inside-and-outside-the-house-
and-ignore-the-doorbell-as-children-approach-reciting-trick-or-treat. What a fantastic pastime! I can remember my brother and I peaking out from behind the curtains in the living room thinking we were pulling something over on the poor kids outside. "No candy for you...suckers! Yeah, that's right. Just walk away. Hahaha!" Never...not once did we stop and think, wait. Wait just a minute. We're sitting at home in the dark...in our pajamas. It's 8 o'clock. Those kids are outside getting candy. We're stuck in our living room huddled around a pizza watching Uncle Buck and we think the joke is on them?! Oh, come on. But yeah, we never thought it. Maybe we were just slow on the uptake, but I remember being perfectly content and thinking the kids outside posing as Batman or Cinderella were dumb. Were we jaded or is it just a McFarland thing? A tradition of some sort? Who knows.
So today, I kept a running tally of all of the costumes I saw. I mean, why not have my own fun with this holiday?! So, when I made mental notes, I played a little game. Have any of you ever been asked: If you could invite 3 people, dead or alive, to dinner, who would you invite? Well, I thought about each of these costumes/characters (not necessarily the people in them, but rather what they were portraying) being invited to my fantasy dinner party, and the possibilities are both delightful and endless. I will list them below. Read them and let your imagination run wild. Thoughts of my dinner party and the chosen hors d’oeuvres and cocktails got me through the last hour of work today. I think it would be the best dinner party ever and, of course, I would request that the dinner party be held on Halloween, because maybe if I had something super awesome happen on this day my thoughts about the festivities would change radically.
1. Grim Reaper
2. Black Cat
3. Barbie
4. Devil
5. Fairy
6. Spiderman
7. Ghost
8. Snow White
9. Skipper
10. Witch
11. Batman
12. Superman
13. Harry Potter
14. Supergirl
15. Clark Kent
16. Dragon
17. T-Rex
18. Bob the Builder
19. Minnie Mouse
20. Wizard
21. Unicorn
22. Stitch (from Lilo and Stitch)
23. Woody (from Toy Story)
24. Dorothy (from The Wizard of Oz)
25. Princesss
26. Cowboy
27. Indian
28. Monkey
29. Tooth Fairy
30. Little Red Riding Hood
31. Pirate
32. Dog
33. Gypsy
34. Tony Romo
35. Giant Lego
Imagine them all around a large dining room table. Maybe they have silver goblets and bibs. Maybe they are passing side dishes from person to person while the unicorn refills their beverages. Maybe the T-Rex starts a food fight. As I said...possibilities. Endless.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I never wanted anything so much...
Gravity by Sara Bareilles
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do
I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown
in your love and not feel your rain.
Set me free, leave me be.
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while
and all my fragile strength is gone.
Set me free, leave me be.
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
I live here on my knees as I try to make you see
that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down.
But you're on to me, on to me
and all over.
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do
I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown
in your love and not feel your rain.
Set me free, leave me be.
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while
and all my fragile strength is gone.
Set me free, leave me be.
I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
I live here on my knees as I try to make you see
that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down.
But you're on to me, on to me
and all over.
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Pushing when you should pull...
In visiting one of my favorite restaurants with my family, I proceeded to go in the side door, because that is the door you go in. Especially if you park in the side parking lot. It just makes sense. Side door. Side parking lot.
As we got to the door I saw a sign, not small but not large, that said, "Please enter through the front door to be seated." It was chilly outside and as my mother and brother rushed up behind me I informed them that we, very inconveniently in the cold, had to walk around to the front.
Once inside, the waitress seated us in the back room. We were a few feet from the door we had wanted to come in. We always go in and out that way, but now it is tightly shut and bolted, and with that sign...there should be no confusion. Well, there was. A lot , actually. And we witnessed it throughout the course of our meal (pun not intended). I guess old habits really do die hard.
As we sat there we saw several groups of people approach. The first was an old woman who walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Pulled. Repeat. Leaned over and looked in the window, where we motioned to her that she needed to go to the front. Mind you: She could have simply read the sign. The second was a mom with two teenage children. They walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Finally read the sign. Walked to the front. The third was a group of ladies. Sadly, even collectively, it took them about 20 seconds to read the words right in front of them. This 20 seconds was filled with the same actions listed above. Then, two big guys walked up. They jiggled the handle. They pushed. My brother and I sat there and mumbled about their inability to, again, simply read. And, moments later, the door blew open. They had, in their frustrations, broken down the door. This startled me, obviously. But, it also made me think.
How is it possible that so many people can be given signs...words right in front of their faces...and continuously ignore them? The words were placed there in order to simplify things for customers, but instead it just caused them frustration and, seemingly, mental anguish because they tried to do things their own way and, caught up in a habit, could not stop to take a second to read...to assess the situation.
Maybe that's how things are though. Not just with doors (I know I am not the only one that has unsuccessfully tried to push the "pull"), but with bigger things. How many times is the sign right in front of us, whether delivered verbally or through gut intuition or by any other sensory manner, and we ignore it? Maybe if we go about business as usual we can force it. I swear we just went through this door the other day, so it shouldn't be a problem. It must just be stuck...maybe if we push it hard enough. All the while, the sign is right there...telling us what we need to do. But we are stubborn. We don't see it. We don't hear it. Or maybe we don't truly see...or listen. We don't want to rely on outside help. We don't want to accept answers we don't come up with ourselves. But why? Why do we spend time time trying to break down the door, when maybe it's easier to accept the sign at face value and walk?
As we got to the door I saw a sign, not small but not large, that said, "Please enter through the front door to be seated." It was chilly outside and as my mother and brother rushed up behind me I informed them that we, very inconveniently in the cold, had to walk around to the front.
Once inside, the waitress seated us in the back room. We were a few feet from the door we had wanted to come in. We always go in and out that way, but now it is tightly shut and bolted, and with that sign...there should be no confusion. Well, there was. A lot , actually. And we witnessed it throughout the course of our meal (pun not intended). I guess old habits really do die hard.
As we sat there we saw several groups of people approach. The first was an old woman who walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Pulled. Repeat. Leaned over and looked in the window, where we motioned to her that she needed to go to the front. Mind you: She could have simply read the sign. The second was a mom with two teenage children. They walked up. Twisted the doorknob. Pushed. Finally read the sign. Walked to the front. The third was a group of ladies. Sadly, even collectively, it took them about 20 seconds to read the words right in front of them. This 20 seconds was filled with the same actions listed above. Then, two big guys walked up. They jiggled the handle. They pushed. My brother and I sat there and mumbled about their inability to, again, simply read. And, moments later, the door blew open. They had, in their frustrations, broken down the door. This startled me, obviously. But, it also made me think.
How is it possible that so many people can be given signs...words right in front of their faces...and continuously ignore them? The words were placed there in order to simplify things for customers, but instead it just caused them frustration and, seemingly, mental anguish because they tried to do things their own way and, caught up in a habit, could not stop to take a second to read...to assess the situation.
Maybe that's how things are though. Not just with doors (I know I am not the only one that has unsuccessfully tried to push the "pull"), but with bigger things. How many times is the sign right in front of us, whether delivered verbally or through gut intuition or by any other sensory manner, and we ignore it? Maybe if we go about business as usual we can force it. I swear we just went through this door the other day, so it shouldn't be a problem. It must just be stuck...maybe if we push it hard enough. All the while, the sign is right there...telling us what we need to do. But we are stubborn. We don't see it. We don't hear it. Or maybe we don't truly see...or listen. We don't want to rely on outside help. We don't want to accept answers we don't come up with ourselves. But why? Why do we spend time time trying to break down the door, when maybe it's easier to accept the sign at face value and walk?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
For those of us who have ever missed the boat...
there's Modest Mouse.
While we're on the subject,
could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ears.
Don't worry, you were always out.
Looking towards the future,
we were begging for the past.
Well, we know we had the good things,
but those never seemed to last.
Oh, please just last.
Everyone's unhappy.
Everyone's ashamed.
Well, we all just got caught looking
at somebody else's page.
Well, nothing ever went
quite exactly as we planned.
Our ideas held no water,
but we used them like a dam.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Saying, "Yes, this is a fine promotion."
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Of course everyone goes crazy
over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar,
but we just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain.
At least I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water,
but we just built that good goddamn.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
I'd assume as much for other people.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
We've listened more to life's end gong
than the sound of life's sweet bells.
Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well, we knew we'd missed the boat
and we'd already missed the plane.
We didn't read the invite.
We just danced at our own wake.
All our favorites were playing
so we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.
Tiny curtains opened and we heard the tiny clap of little hands.
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all the folks
sitting, drifting around in bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them,
when we finally got it figured out that we had truly missed the boat.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and we owned all the tools ourselves.
But not the skills to make a shelf with.
Oh, what useless tools ourselves.
While we're on the subject,
could we change the subject now?
I was knocking on your ears.
Don't worry, you were always out.
Looking towards the future,
we were begging for the past.
Well, we know we had the good things,
but those never seemed to last.
Oh, please just last.
Everyone's unhappy.
Everyone's ashamed.
Well, we all just got caught looking
at somebody else's page.
Well, nothing ever went
quite exactly as we planned.
Our ideas held no water,
but we used them like a dam.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Saying, "Yes, this is a fine promotion."
Oh, and I laugh all the way to hell.
Of course everyone goes crazy
over such and such and such.
We made ourselves a pillar,
but we just used it as a crutch.
We were certainly uncertain.
At least I'm pretty sure I am.
Well, we didn't need the water,
but we just built that good goddamn.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
I'd assume as much for other people.
Oh, and I know this of myself.
We've listened more to life's end gong
than the sound of life's sweet bells.
Was it ever worth it?
Was there all that much to gain?
Well, we knew we'd missed the boat
and we'd already missed the plane.
We didn't read the invite.
We just danced at our own wake.
All our favorites were playing
so we could shake, shake, shake, shake, shake.
Tiny curtains opened and we heard the tiny clap of little hands.
A tiny man would tell a little joke and get a tiny laugh from all the folks
sitting, drifting around in bubbles and thinking it was us that carried them,
when we finally got it figured out that we had truly missed the boat.
Oh, and we carried it all so well.
As if we got a new position.
Oh, and we owned all the tools ourselves.
But not the skills to make a shelf with.
Oh, what useless tools ourselves.
Monday, October 15, 2007
“Nothing gets past ol’ eagle eye…”
Somehow, this is how I am seen at work. I am known, at least to the individual quoted above, as a person with keen attention to detail. A person that observes closely. A person that lets nothing past them. But, in the lingering of this co-worker's words in my head I realized that, although this may be true in a purely professional sense, it is not currently applicable personally or creatively.
I feel that, sometimes, quite a lot gets by me. I have been feeling that way especially when it comes to any sort of creative outlet. I let events and snippets that spark a thought...that could be elaborated on...just pass by.
For me, looking at this blog is disappointing. Every once in a while I will hit the buttons on the side and suddenly I am transported, reading words from 2004, some of which I do not even remember writing. But, I look at the pages and pages of entries, where I found inspiration in the tiniest things, and I can look at myself now and it just feels like I am in a rut.
Is it that I have lost inspiration? No. Inspiration can be found in anything…from a late night conversation with a friend, to a song on the radio, to a current event, to a work meeting…which is what got my wheels spinning to begin with. Inspirational things are abundant, so what is it?
In looking at previous posts, most of them were during a time when I was in school and the majority of my jobs were work/study. Meaning that, after I loaded some 8.5 x 11 paper into the community printer, I was free to do whatever until I had to leave. So, I wrote. Now, I write for a living, sitting behind a computer from 8-5, so the last thing I want to do when I get home is write more. This attitude needs to change. The answer to the above question (“so what is it?” ) is simple: laziness and forgetfulness.
I have forgotten how much I enjoy writing. Finding humor and meaning in the little, seemingly insignificant things brings me happiness. Sharing a wonderful excerpt from someone else’s writing or lyrics from a song that has impacted me is exhilarating. And I think, for me, writing is what is missing right now. Granted, I have been writing, but it’s only been personal/for myself writing. The kind that comes slowly but surely. Bits and pieces coming together…like a jigsaw puzzle. Only right now, I barely have all of the edge pieces in a pile.
My imagination needs a jump start. Yes, I said that right. This is a need…not a want. A few weeks ago, upon visiting Hardin-Simmons, every professor I spoke with asked me the same question: Have you been writing? And other than some scrawlings here and there, on the backs of envelopes, on yellow sticky notes, on a legal pad in the bottom drawer of my desk, no…I haven’t. It’s sad because I feel so much better when I do. When I put something out there, even into this cyber no man’s land. So, here we go.
I feel that, sometimes, quite a lot gets by me. I have been feeling that way especially when it comes to any sort of creative outlet. I let events and snippets that spark a thought...that could be elaborated on...just pass by.
For me, looking at this blog is disappointing. Every once in a while I will hit the buttons on the side and suddenly I am transported, reading words from 2004, some of which I do not even remember writing. But, I look at the pages and pages of entries, where I found inspiration in the tiniest things, and I can look at myself now and it just feels like I am in a rut.
Is it that I have lost inspiration? No. Inspiration can be found in anything…from a late night conversation with a friend, to a song on the radio, to a current event, to a work meeting…which is what got my wheels spinning to begin with. Inspirational things are abundant, so what is it?
In looking at previous posts, most of them were during a time when I was in school and the majority of my jobs were work/study. Meaning that, after I loaded some 8.5 x 11 paper into the community printer, I was free to do whatever until I had to leave. So, I wrote. Now, I write for a living, sitting behind a computer from 8-5, so the last thing I want to do when I get home is write more. This attitude needs to change. The answer to the above question (“so what is it?” ) is simple: laziness and forgetfulness.
I have forgotten how much I enjoy writing. Finding humor and meaning in the little, seemingly insignificant things brings me happiness. Sharing a wonderful excerpt from someone else’s writing or lyrics from a song that has impacted me is exhilarating. And I think, for me, writing is what is missing right now. Granted, I have been writing, but it’s only been personal/for myself writing. The kind that comes slowly but surely. Bits and pieces coming together…like a jigsaw puzzle. Only right now, I barely have all of the edge pieces in a pile.
My imagination needs a jump start. Yes, I said that right. This is a need…not a want. A few weeks ago, upon visiting Hardin-Simmons, every professor I spoke with asked me the same question: Have you been writing? And other than some scrawlings here and there, on the backs of envelopes, on yellow sticky notes, on a legal pad in the bottom drawer of my desk, no…I haven’t. It’s sad because I feel so much better when I do. When I put something out there, even into this cyber no man’s land. So, here we go.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Hold me now...
by Jennifer Knapp
From glass alabaster she poured out the depth of her soul.
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotries known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt
of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt.
She is strong enough to stand in your love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now.
Let he without sin cast the first stone if you will.
To say that my bride isn't worth half the blood that I've spilled.
Point your finger and laugh if you choose
to say my beloved is borrowed and used.
She is strong enough to stand in my love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now
From glass alabaster she poured out the depth of her soul.
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotries known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt
of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt.
She is strong enough to stand in your love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now.
Let he without sin cast the first stone if you will.
To say that my bride isn't worth half the blood that I've spilled.
Point your finger and laugh if you choose
to say my beloved is borrowed and used.
She is strong enough to stand in my love.
I can hear her say....
I'm weak.
I'm poor.
I'm broken Lord
but I'm yours.
Hold me now.
Hold me now
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
I am, I am, I am...
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Art imitates life...or is it vice versa?
I want to loosely tie together 3 seemingly unrelatable things, that when listed together may seem even more improbable.
1. "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows
2. Owen Wilson's recent suicide attempt
3. "Home" by Chris Daughtry
Though in my mind these two songs and the above current event from the celebrity world fit together seamlessly, picking apart the sciffywoo of my brain to adequately express it in a controlled manner is not the easiest task, but I will hit you with my best shot...and fire away.
Let's dissect...one at a time.
I love the Counting Crows. They are the first band I fell madly in love with and it was mostly because I had never heard music with a truly literary element. The depth of Adam Duritz's poetry, and the way that it is both deep and relevant to everyday life, still amazes me. Anyway, I am sure all of you have heard "Mr. Jones", but have you ever heard the live version off of their vh1 album "Across the Wire"? If you haven't, do yourself a favor and itunes it people! The two versions, the studio version and the live version, take on completely different tones. The differences are subtle, but most definitely there. The studio version was their first major hit. It's all about the dream of becoming a rock star...of a life where everything is handed to you on a plate. A life of glamour and fame, free from loneliness. The live version is this very life realized...the jadedness, the pressure, and the forthcoming depression when you realize that maybe there's no real substance behind achieving a dream driven by the desire for the bigger and better in a purely materialistic sense. If you listen to the slight changes he makes to the lyrics on the live version, you can hear the pain and the let down of something he once wanted (back to the studio version) more than anything. Together, Mr. Jones and Adam would "tell each other fairytales" and "look into the future" to a time where they were going to be "big stars," but after time passes and the fairytales turned into reality, they "don't see each other much anymore." They never sit and dream and soak in the simplicities of life. Finding joy in the little things, conversations with Mr. Jones over a few beers, has been overshadowed by what he thought he wanted. Compare the differences in tone for yourself:
Studio version:
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I want to be a lion.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We all want to be big, big stars, but we all got different reasons for that.
When everybody loves you, that's just about as funky as you can be.
Mr. Jones and me staring at the video.
When I look at the televisionI want to see me staring right back at me.
We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why
and we don't know how.
But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as I can be.
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars.
Live version:
So you wanna be a rock n' roll star?
Well listen now to what I say.
Just get an electric guitar and learn how to play,
just learn how to play.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We, we all wanna be big, big, big, big, big stars,
but then we get second thoughts about that.
Well man, when everybody loves you, that can be about as
f****d up as you can be.
Well can't you hear me 'cause I'm screamin'?
And I did not go outside yesterday.
Don't wake me, cause I was dreamin',
and I might just stay inside again today.
Cause Mr. Jones and me, we don't see each other much anymore.
This week it was announced that Owen Wilson, actor and screenwriter, was found in his home and taken to the hospital after a suicide attempt. I learned this via radio on my way to the post office. The person covering this headline followed the news by saying, "Why would someone like Owen Wilson want to commit suicide? I mean, really...what's the hardest thing he faces? Choosing which parties to go to and which girls to sleep with?" I found this comment both sad and true. Sad because we will never have any idea what he is really faced with. What kind of demons he fights off day after day. But, on the other hand, I find it true because this is a guy who seemingly has it all: money, fame, upcoming projects, family, friends, etc. It truly looks like, from the outside, this guy has it all and has it all together. Obviously, this is not the case. The radio guy went on to say, "If this guy can't find the will to live, with practically everything he could ever want, where do we find the motivation?" I understand his point, but I also think it's in the attitude in which everything is perceived. We may find motivation and passion in what we do on a day to day basis, who we meet along the way, who we come home to, etc. We may find our drive in the real, palpable things that affect us. Just like Adam Duritz believed that fame would open every door...I am sure that fame has opened many doors for Owen Wilson, but maybe he finally got to a point where he wanted more. Maybe he wanted to be affected instead of just going along for the ride. Fame and fortune are worldly abstractions and distractions. If, in life, you get to a point where you have all you thought you wanted but you have nothing satisfying, nothing of substance, I cannot imagine anything more frightening. I think this is the point Adam Duritz was making. I know there is no way of knowing, but when people only see what Owen Wilson or other countless celebrities have, maybe no one stops to think about what they don't have...what their seemingly full lives may possibly be missing.
I recently heard Chris Daughtry speak about his song "Home," and it made me appreciate him both as a musician and as an individual. This is the final item on this list of comparisons because it seems to me that this is what the other two people, both Owen Wilson and Adam Duritz, may be searching for quite unsuccessfully. When Daughtry spoke about his newfound fame he said it has been difficult, just as we see Adam Duritz relaying, but he referred to his wife (who he speaks to directly in the song: “The miles are getting longer it seems, the closer I get to you. I've not always been the best man or friend for you, but your love remains true and I don't know why. You always seem to give me another try.”) as his rock and his hero, and his children (a step-daughter and adopted son) as his life. He talked about being out on the road and finally living the dream that he has been chasing for so long, but that the shiny coin of fame definitely has another side: "Be careful what you wish for,'cause you just might get it all. You just might get it all, and then some you don't want." He is away from what is most important to him...his family. They keep him grounded and they greet him with love and open arms. He made it clear that he doesn't regret the path his life has taken, but the day to day mingling of strangers and other musicians, etc. cannot equal the unconditional love and familiarity he has at home, stating, “These places and these faces are getting old, so I'm going home…to the place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.” Daughtry seems to have his priorities straight, saying his heart is always firmly planted at home, “the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me,” even though he may be a continent away. He says he has quickly learned about the cost of achieving your dreams and that sometimes things you care about get lost or left behind along the way. Daughtry closed by saying that with a fast onset of fame, you have to cling to everything you want to survive in the end and you must have your priorities straight, because if you don't...good luck.
I agree with that, and I feel like Adam Durtiz and Owen Wilson would agree as well. You have to live a life of meaning. You have to realize value, both within yourself and in the people that love you/you love. You have to work to protect and preserve what is important to you. And mostly, in life, you have to wrap up everything you treasure, hold it close, and run like hell through a crowd of people that want things from you, that ask you to spread yourself too thin, that shoot flaming arrows, and that have rigged land mines beneath your feet all in an effort to slow you down or take you down...and you just have to pray to God that when you get to the other side everything you love is still with you.
1. "Mr. Jones" by Counting Crows
2. Owen Wilson's recent suicide attempt
3. "Home" by Chris Daughtry
Though in my mind these two songs and the above current event from the celebrity world fit together seamlessly, picking apart the sciffywoo of my brain to adequately express it in a controlled manner is not the easiest task, but I will hit you with my best shot...and fire away.
Let's dissect...one at a time.
I love the Counting Crows. They are the first band I fell madly in love with and it was mostly because I had never heard music with a truly literary element. The depth of Adam Duritz's poetry, and the way that it is both deep and relevant to everyday life, still amazes me. Anyway, I am sure all of you have heard "Mr. Jones", but have you ever heard the live version off of their vh1 album "Across the Wire"? If you haven't, do yourself a favor and itunes it people! The two versions, the studio version and the live version, take on completely different tones. The differences are subtle, but most definitely there. The studio version was their first major hit. It's all about the dream of becoming a rock star...of a life where everything is handed to you on a plate. A life of glamour and fame, free from loneliness. The live version is this very life realized...the jadedness, the pressure, and the forthcoming depression when you realize that maybe there's no real substance behind achieving a dream driven by the desire for the bigger and better in a purely materialistic sense. If you listen to the slight changes he makes to the lyrics on the live version, you can hear the pain and the let down of something he once wanted (back to the studio version) more than anything. Together, Mr. Jones and Adam would "tell each other fairytales" and "look into the future" to a time where they were going to be "big stars," but after time passes and the fairytales turned into reality, they "don't see each other much anymore." They never sit and dream and soak in the simplicities of life. Finding joy in the little things, conversations with Mr. Jones over a few beers, has been overshadowed by what he thought he wanted. Compare the differences in tone for yourself:
Studio version:
When everybody loves you, you can never be lonely.
When everybody loves me, I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I will never be lonely.
I want to be a lion.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We all want to be big, big stars, but we all got different reasons for that.
When everybody loves you, that's just about as funky as you can be.
Mr. Jones and me staring at the video.
When I look at the televisionI want to see me staring right back at me.
We all want to be big stars, but we don't know why
and we don't know how.
But when everybody loves me, I'm going to be just about as happy as I can be.
Mr. Jones and me, we're gonna be big stars.
Live version:
So you wanna be a rock n' roll star?
Well listen now to what I say.
Just get an electric guitar and learn how to play,
just learn how to play.
Everybody wants to pass as cats.
We, we all wanna be big, big, big, big, big stars,
but then we get second thoughts about that.
Well man, when everybody loves you, that can be about as
f****d up as you can be.
Well can't you hear me 'cause I'm screamin'?
And I did not go outside yesterday.
Don't wake me, cause I was dreamin',
and I might just stay inside again today.
Cause Mr. Jones and me, we don't see each other much anymore.
This week it was announced that Owen Wilson, actor and screenwriter, was found in his home and taken to the hospital after a suicide attempt. I learned this via radio on my way to the post office. The person covering this headline followed the news by saying, "Why would someone like Owen Wilson want to commit suicide? I mean, really...what's the hardest thing he faces? Choosing which parties to go to and which girls to sleep with?" I found this comment both sad and true. Sad because we will never have any idea what he is really faced with. What kind of demons he fights off day after day. But, on the other hand, I find it true because this is a guy who seemingly has it all: money, fame, upcoming projects, family, friends, etc. It truly looks like, from the outside, this guy has it all and has it all together. Obviously, this is not the case. The radio guy went on to say, "If this guy can't find the will to live, with practically everything he could ever want, where do we find the motivation?" I understand his point, but I also think it's in the attitude in which everything is perceived. We may find motivation and passion in what we do on a day to day basis, who we meet along the way, who we come home to, etc. We may find our drive in the real, palpable things that affect us. Just like Adam Duritz believed that fame would open every door...I am sure that fame has opened many doors for Owen Wilson, but maybe he finally got to a point where he wanted more. Maybe he wanted to be affected instead of just going along for the ride. Fame and fortune are worldly abstractions and distractions. If, in life, you get to a point where you have all you thought you wanted but you have nothing satisfying, nothing of substance, I cannot imagine anything more frightening. I think this is the point Adam Duritz was making. I know there is no way of knowing, but when people only see what Owen Wilson or other countless celebrities have, maybe no one stops to think about what they don't have...what their seemingly full lives may possibly be missing.
I recently heard Chris Daughtry speak about his song "Home," and it made me appreciate him both as a musician and as an individual. This is the final item on this list of comparisons because it seems to me that this is what the other two people, both Owen Wilson and Adam Duritz, may be searching for quite unsuccessfully. When Daughtry spoke about his newfound fame he said it has been difficult, just as we see Adam Duritz relaying, but he referred to his wife (who he speaks to directly in the song: “The miles are getting longer it seems, the closer I get to you. I've not always been the best man or friend for you, but your love remains true and I don't know why. You always seem to give me another try.”) as his rock and his hero, and his children (a step-daughter and adopted son) as his life. He talked about being out on the road and finally living the dream that he has been chasing for so long, but that the shiny coin of fame definitely has another side: "Be careful what you wish for,'cause you just might get it all. You just might get it all, and then some you don't want." He is away from what is most important to him...his family. They keep him grounded and they greet him with love and open arms. He made it clear that he doesn't regret the path his life has taken, but the day to day mingling of strangers and other musicians, etc. cannot equal the unconditional love and familiarity he has at home, stating, “These places and these faces are getting old, so I'm going home…to the place where love and feeling good don't ever cost a thing.” Daughtry seems to have his priorities straight, saying his heart is always firmly planted at home, “the place where I belong, where your love has always been enough for me,” even though he may be a continent away. He says he has quickly learned about the cost of achieving your dreams and that sometimes things you care about get lost or left behind along the way. Daughtry closed by saying that with a fast onset of fame, you have to cling to everything you want to survive in the end and you must have your priorities straight, because if you don't...good luck.
I agree with that, and I feel like Adam Durtiz and Owen Wilson would agree as well. You have to live a life of meaning. You have to realize value, both within yourself and in the people that love you/you love. You have to work to protect and preserve what is important to you. And mostly, in life, you have to wrap up everything you treasure, hold it close, and run like hell through a crowd of people that want things from you, that ask you to spread yourself too thin, that shoot flaming arrows, and that have rigged land mines beneath your feet all in an effort to slow you down or take you down...and you just have to pray to God that when you get to the other side everything you love is still with you.
Friday, July 06, 2007
I keep your picture in my worn-through shoes...
Someone Else’s Life by Joshua Radin
And somehow I'm leading someone else's life;
I cut her star down with my knife.
And right now I still see the way the moon
plays this tune though our night's died.
My hands shake.
My knees quake.
It's every day
the same way.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost
I look at my picture of you.
And somehow I'll make tonight our own,
show you every way I've grown since I met you.
And right now I'll be the boy in your next song
I'll learn the parts and play along if you let me.
My hands shake.
My knees quake.
It's every day
the same way.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost
I look at my picture of you.
If you let me, I'll show the world to you.
Yes, if you let me, I'll know just what to do.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
When I'm lost in your eyes
I see the way for me.
And somehow I'm leading someone else's life;
I cut her star down with my knife.
And right now I still see the way the moon
plays this tune though our night's died.
My hands shake.
My knees quake.
It's every day
the same way.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost
I look at my picture of you.
And somehow I'll make tonight our own,
show you every way I've grown since I met you.
And right now I'll be the boy in your next song
I'll learn the parts and play along if you let me.
My hands shake.
My knees quake.
It's every day
the same way.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost
I look at my picture of you.
If you let me, I'll show the world to you.
Yes, if you let me, I'll know just what to do.
'Cause then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
in my worn-through shoes.
When I'm lost in your eyes
I see the way for me.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
It's the little things...
Going to Target on your lunch break is a death wish. Seriously. Pandemonium.
I wouldn't go there unless I needed something desperately, and it just so happened that I needed something...desperately. So, I made a mad dash. Foregoing a cart I knew what I needed and made a beeline. Walking fast, I of course found myself on the heels of a mother lecturing her child, an older woman who was trying to decide between Kleenex or Kleenex with lotion, a couple debating Diet Coke vs. Diet Coke Plus. Ugh.
Doesn't it seem like when you are in a hurry the world moves in slow motion. "Lady, no one in the history of the world has ever walked this slowly. Ever." Wonderful and uplifting thoughts like that enter your mind when you feel put out in the least. Well, my hour lunch break was dwindling and I knew exactly what I needed, but people and Target employees and spilled drinks kept getting in my way.
Finally, I had what I needed in hand and made my way to one of the supposedly-faster-checkout-lanes. It wasn't. So, going against my gut I switched. Don't ever switch lanes. You are guaranteed a longer wait in the line you switch to. Or maybe that is just my luck. I was now standing in the 10 item or less line, frustrated. I was undoubtedly looking at my watch, checking my cell phone, keeping an eye on the line I had been in...when I noticed the people standing in front of me.
I wouldn't go there unless I needed something desperately, and it just so happened that I needed something...desperately. So, I made a mad dash. Foregoing a cart I knew what I needed and made a beeline. Walking fast, I of course found myself on the heels of a mother lecturing her child, an older woman who was trying to decide between Kleenex or Kleenex with lotion, a couple debating Diet Coke vs. Diet Coke Plus. Ugh.
Doesn't it seem like when you are in a hurry the world moves in slow motion. "Lady, no one in the history of the world has ever walked this slowly. Ever." Wonderful and uplifting thoughts like that enter your mind when you feel put out in the least. Well, my hour lunch break was dwindling and I knew exactly what I needed, but people and Target employees and spilled drinks kept getting in my way.
Finally, I had what I needed in hand and made my way to one of the supposedly-faster-checkout-lanes. It wasn't. So, going against my gut I switched. Don't ever switch lanes. You are guaranteed a longer wait in the line you switch to. Or maybe that is just my luck. I was now standing in the 10 item or less line, frustrated. I was undoubtedly looking at my watch, checking my cell phone, keeping an eye on the line I had been in...when I noticed the people standing in front of me.
A grandmother and grandson were ahead of me in line. I imagine it was the little boy's birthday. Or maybe he did something spectacular that his grandmother wanted to recognize. He had a stack of Pokemon cards in his hand and the biggest smile on his face. When it came time for him to put the cards up on the counter, he laid each of them down gently and paid close attention as the woman at the register scanned each one and placed it in the bag. He quickly moved to hold the bag as his grandmother paid for the cards and his excitement was contagious. In watching this I had forgotten all about the time and the fact that I was frustrated and on my lunch break. My attitude completely changed. As he walked away I said to the cashier, "How does it feel to have just made that little boy's day? I haven't seen someone that excited in a long time." She said, "I know...oh, look at him. He is excited." At this point, the girl behind me spoke up and said, "That's adorable." To which I replied, "I haven't been that excited about anything in a long time." And as I walked away both of them said, "Yeah, me either."
As I left, I passed the grandmother kneeling beside the boy and opening a package of the cards. He couldn't even wait to leave the building.
As we get older, it seems that things have to be bigger and better to make us happy. The happiness that was once caused by a candy bar in the checkout line is now an ipod or a new car or a vacation. I wish I could get back to that simplicity. I mean, I still have glimpses of simplistic joys: a vanilla Diet Coke on a crappy day, an ice cream cone before lunch. But yeah, to anticipate getting something as small as a pack of cards so much that I have to rip it open before I step foot outside the store...that would be nice. Wouldn't it? Finding joy in the smallest things. I think the world would be a happier place if we could all master that perspective.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
I want to carry you...
"Carry" by Billy Collins
I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.
Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly
in a rowboat on the far side of the lake.
They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.
I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.
Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly
in a rowboat on the far side of the lake.
They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Team sports and relationships...
When I was a child I played several sports: basketball, soccer, softball. These, of course, are all team sports and it just so happens that I was always on the worst team. But being on the worst team never held my spirit back. Our record could be 0-8 and I could still be found practicing in the backyard every night, putting forth my best effort at practice, and having hope at the games when batter after batter was struck out and every ball that was hit to the outfield was fumbled or just completely missed. It was the love of the game and the desire to work on something and become better. The feeling of working hard, even through the losing streaks, and coming out on top...being a winner.
I can remember going home after games in tears and my mother telling me, Melia...it doesn't matter how hard you work. If the other players on your team don't care or don't put forth the effort that you do, you're never going to win. You can be the best player in the world, but unless your team works together you are going to lose every time. You can't expect to single-handedly hold up an entire team.
My mother's words span across many areas in life, not just team sports. Let's take relationships for instance. You can be in a relationship for all the right reasons...to have fun, to work as a team, because you have that desire and love for a person. You can give 100% day in and day out...putting forth all the effort you can muster. You can work hard, through any issues, and try to come out on top. You can be loyal and driven. You can have faith and hope and all of the elements of perseverance. But, unless the other person on your "team" is willing to put forth the same kind of effort, it's a lost cause. It doesn't matter how hard you work or how much hope or faith you have. You can be the best version of yourself, but unless that desire is returned...unless together you can attempt to muddle through any rough patches with the knowledge that your "team" will come out on top, you're never going to win.
I was never very good at accepting that fact about team sports. That's why I switched to tennis.
I can remember going home after games in tears and my mother telling me, Melia...it doesn't matter how hard you work. If the other players on your team don't care or don't put forth the effort that you do, you're never going to win. You can be the best player in the world, but unless your team works together you are going to lose every time. You can't expect to single-handedly hold up an entire team.
My mother's words span across many areas in life, not just team sports. Let's take relationships for instance. You can be in a relationship for all the right reasons...to have fun, to work as a team, because you have that desire and love for a person. You can give 100% day in and day out...putting forth all the effort you can muster. You can work hard, through any issues, and try to come out on top. You can be loyal and driven. You can have faith and hope and all of the elements of perseverance. But, unless the other person on your "team" is willing to put forth the same kind of effort, it's a lost cause. It doesn't matter how hard you work or how much hope or faith you have. You can be the best version of yourself, but unless that desire is returned...unless together you can attempt to muddle through any rough patches with the knowledge that your "team" will come out on top, you're never going to win.
I was never very good at accepting that fact about team sports. That's why I switched to tennis.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Just a passing moment gone...
White Daisy Passsing by Rocky Votolato
Please slow it down.
There's a secret magic past world
that you only notice when you're looking back at it.
All I wanna do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn't let go when the water hit the setting sun.
Passing white daisies taking turns,
close the door walk into the street
catching raindrops on your tongue.
And for a minute it all stops.
But it won't last long, just a passing moment gone.
Please slow it down.
There's a secret place that I know
where I could dig a grave out and climb underground for good.
All I want to do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn't let go when the water hit the setting sun.
Passing white daisies taking turns,
all those evenings on the back deck of our first apartment.
They meant everything but the wind just carried them off.
And you can't go back now, just a passing moment gone.
Please slow it down.
There’s a secret magic past world
that you only notice when you’re looking back at it.
And all I wanna do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn’t let go of the water at the setting sun.
Because I couldn’t let go of the passing moment gone.
Please slow it down.
There's a secret magic past world
that you only notice when you're looking back at it.
All I wanna do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn't let go when the water hit the setting sun.
Passing white daisies taking turns,
close the door walk into the street
catching raindrops on your tongue.
And for a minute it all stops.
But it won't last long, just a passing moment gone.
Please slow it down.
There's a secret place that I know
where I could dig a grave out and climb underground for good.
All I want to do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn't let go when the water hit the setting sun.
Passing white daisies taking turns,
all those evenings on the back deck of our first apartment.
They meant everything but the wind just carried them off.
And you can't go back now, just a passing moment gone.
Please slow it down.
There’s a secret magic past world
that you only notice when you’re looking back at it.
And all I wanna do is turn around.
I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
because I couldn’t let go of the water at the setting sun.
Because I couldn’t let go of the passing moment gone.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
This blog has been abandoned...
Or so you thought. I know it’s been a while. So long, in fact, that I was probably removed from you RSS feeds this time last year and since then these scrawlings have become just another distant memory…a “remember when” type of thing.
Well, I am trying to repair and rebuild. Little by little…blog by blog…filling in the cracks of a foundation that is several years old and has been neglected, like one of those condemned houses you see along a Texas highway. I don’t want this to be one of those houses.
I hope you follow that metaphor, because I almost just completely lost it and began writing about my infatuation with home repair/flipping shows. But, I will press on.
I am here. I have always been here, just not here…you know? But now I am back and ready to attempt to write something. Just to put thoughts, ideas, lyrics, and everyday observations down on a clean sheet of cyberpaper. I am hoping it will be therapeutic…give me something to look forward to. A tiny creative outlet, perhaps.
So before I begin in the present and move forward, I feel as though I should give you a bit of insight into the past. And what I mean by “past” is the last year or so. Let’s see…the last time I posted anything was on May 25, 2006, which I believe was a Thursday. That day I woke up sometime in the morning and sat on the couch in my pajamas looking a little out of sorts for at least a half hour. For lunch I had a sandwich, which I think was probably pretty delicious. I am guessing turkey, a little mayo. At some point I put on clothes and I did some stuff. I probably had some reasons for doing that stuff. And I know for a fact that I drank more than one Diet Coke as the day progressed. Later in the day I began thinking about dinner. At this point I would put money on the fact that Ashley and I drove (we did not walk because we are just that lazy) to Pei Wei and ordered food that we took back to the apartment and ate. It was probably pretty delicious too. Then I probably did some more stuff, which most likely included the Internet, a television, and some laughter here and there. And finally, I went to bed.
Now imagine what I have just written…with slight variations, and then fast forward 398 days and here we are. I am glad you’re here to peek in upon a hodgepodge of snippets from life, pop culture, and conversations I hear in my cubicle at work. Albeit at times mundane, I hope it proves to be a place of ideas, humor, and those random tidbits that do not fit anywhere else.
Well, I am trying to repair and rebuild. Little by little…blog by blog…filling in the cracks of a foundation that is several years old and has been neglected, like one of those condemned houses you see along a Texas highway. I don’t want this to be one of those houses.
I hope you follow that metaphor, because I almost just completely lost it and began writing about my infatuation with home repair/flipping shows. But, I will press on.
I am here. I have always been here, just not here…you know? But now I am back and ready to attempt to write something. Just to put thoughts, ideas, lyrics, and everyday observations down on a clean sheet of cyberpaper. I am hoping it will be therapeutic…give me something to look forward to. A tiny creative outlet, perhaps.
So before I begin in the present and move forward, I feel as though I should give you a bit of insight into the past. And what I mean by “past” is the last year or so. Let’s see…the last time I posted anything was on May 25, 2006, which I believe was a Thursday. That day I woke up sometime in the morning and sat on the couch in my pajamas looking a little out of sorts for at least a half hour. For lunch I had a sandwich, which I think was probably pretty delicious. I am guessing turkey, a little mayo. At some point I put on clothes and I did some stuff. I probably had some reasons for doing that stuff. And I know for a fact that I drank more than one Diet Coke as the day progressed. Later in the day I began thinking about dinner. At this point I would put money on the fact that Ashley and I drove (we did not walk because we are just that lazy) to Pei Wei and ordered food that we took back to the apartment and ate. It was probably pretty delicious too. Then I probably did some more stuff, which most likely included the Internet, a television, and some laughter here and there. And finally, I went to bed.
Now imagine what I have just written…with slight variations, and then fast forward 398 days and here we are. I am glad you’re here to peek in upon a hodgepodge of snippets from life, pop culture, and conversations I hear in my cubicle at work. Albeit at times mundane, I hope it proves to be a place of ideas, humor, and those random tidbits that do not fit anywhere else.
Monday, June 25, 2007
A Bedtime Prayer...
MY LORD GOD,
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see
the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will
end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am
following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please
you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope
that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know
that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may
know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not
fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to
face my perils alone.
Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton (1915—1968)
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see
the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will
end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am
following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please
you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope
that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know
that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may
know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though
I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not
fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to
face my perils alone.
Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton (1915—1968)
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