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.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
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.
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