Philosophical fever, OH YEAH!

I guess for some people the world keeps changing and they feel like they're standing still.

And for others they keep changing while the world around them becomes stagnant.

An elite few change the world.

As for me, MY world is changing.

If this gives me the chance to change the world I live in, I will seize it. It's about time I added my difference to the ever-changing world. If the world is stagnant then you aren't taking care of your part of the world. If you keep changing but leave the world behind then what world is there for you to look forward to? And further more, if either the world is changing without you or falling behind, then you aren't really paying attention at all.

Or you do not live on this world.

Sense and sensibility

Oh how I want. I want as I have never wanted before.

In the past what I wanted was always either beyond my reach, or something that I shouldn't have that wouldn't go to awry if I had it anyway. Now is different.

Something I want more than I can understand is in my reach. All I need do is ask for it. Also it's one of those things that I shouldn't have. But if I take it anyway, I will have violated my principles. It's not a simple want, like I want to eat pizza, and then I eat too much, but eh. I'll live. I'll take a jog and be done with it.

This time my world has changed shape solely on the desire of something that I can but shouldn't have. I want. To have, to hold, to care for. I need. But no. That's a feeling. In truth, this might destroy me.

Before me have many friends fallen to the same temptation.

I want to fail. I want to unsuccessfully attempt to abstain from this desire. So each action, no matter which way it goes, comes with regret. I don't call. This is right. I shouldn't prolong it. And so I do not call and am so unhappy because of it.

I shouldn't reply. But I'm so happy to see it that I reply anyway. I'm so excited! And guilty.

I thought feelings meant something. I don't know if they do now.

I believed in love. Love lifts us up, gives us hope! Love is the greatest and most powerful thing in this world! If it is love then it MUST be right! So I thought. Am I wrong?

What if I fell in love with what was obviously wrong? Does the love that is there redeem the wrongness? I feel like it should. It is because of love that we do right, isn't it?

A man who loves his friend might go back for him in the heat of battle. Lovers put aside the differences of two different worlds, all for love. But should they have restrained themselves in the first place, not allowed themselves to fall? Was it wrong? And does it stay wrong? A horrible stain on their souls for all eternity? Or does the love wash that away?

What is this supposed redeeming power of love?

But that's not what I'm worried about, yet. What I do worry about are the opposing persons within me. My Feelings have risen up to battle my Reason for control of my actions. I hope my Feelings win, but know that my Reason should prevail.

It's like in that terrible movie, War, where the guy you were rooting for the WHOLE MOVIE turned out to be the bad guy.

Either way, I lose. If I fall, I will regret not having the strength to resist. If I resist, I will regret never knowing what could have been, or whether it would have been one of the greatest stories of all time.

All is loss. And all is victory. So either victory is tainted by the bitterness of loss.

The disease

Hope.

It is what sustains us. It is all that stands between humanity and extinction. And how it does its job. Instinct? We haven't got much of that, anymore. That's what keeps the animals alive. But we do have hope. And that will keep us here long after the creatures have gone.

Hope is our cure.

And what is the disease? Is it our cruel, natural human condition? And what is that? The desire to kill, steal and destroy? Why do we do that? Because we want to live, and we want to live well. And the reason for that? It is because we hope for a better future. Hope.

Hope is our disease.

Our everlasting beacon of salvation and doom. Hope is what saves us from what we're doing to ourselves, and it is what keeps us doing just that.

Remember that story about Pandora's box? Apparently some bitter god or titan gave mankind and his wife a box, as a gift, but instructed that they never open it. She got so curious that she opened it anyway.

Out of the box flew creatures, embodying disease and suffering and misery and all the things that are bad in this world. Pandora shut the box, but by the time she did evil had already been unleashed on mankind.

And there was only one creature left in the box. A sad little critter named hope. And Pandora kept it and nursed it and cared for it.

Question: WHY would there be ANY good in that box?

It's an interesting story. But I don't know if I can deny hope the right to exist. Consider heaven and hell. Hell hasn't got a sting if it's citizens haven't got hope. If they couldn't dream of a better existence, then hell would be no worse than any other place in this universe.

Even if we couldn't hope for a heaven, then what use would anything better than the now exist? Mankind would lose his will to live. Hope is all we have to live for.

Is there nothing else we ought to live for?

Of course I'm bitter, I suppose. I too have hope. Lots of it. And honestly that hope isn't based on anything solid or real. So when the universe disappoints me I'll come crashing down from my cloud of hope. I know this. I know that I will be disappointed. And yet I cannot discourage hope.

I'd rather hope for something I'll have someday, rather than only for something I only might have, or worse might never have at all. I suppose it's meant to make me reach further than I might, if I'd hoped only for something I knew I could reach.

How simple and deplorable such a life would be, one in which I only reached for what I knew I could have. I'd never ask for more, from myself or anybody else.

I'd really hoped to pass judgment on hope and find it guilty. Yet once again hope has disappointed me. The worst part? That it might be a good thing, this disappointment.

Hope makes us miserable, but our misery might not be in vain.







LINK OF THE DAY!!! Yeah, I'm still promoting myself. BWAHAHAHAAA! Check out my *attempt* at a humor blog at http://clickypenstranger.blogspot.com DOOOOO IT.

Art, I miss you

We aspire to responsibility. Why?

Yes, being responsible is a very good thing. It makes you a good person, when you stick to it. It makes you a hero in times of war. Unless of course everyone does it. Suddenly it's just expected of you. It's a shame how something even as important as that loses its value as supplies increase.

(guess who's taking an economy course?)

But there are greater things to be responsible to, greater than just living day to day, making money, getting food on the table. These are the necessities. We all adhere to them as best we can because we have to. It's made it easy for us to deny our responsibilities to being true to ourselves, and encouraging that of others.

And so we have abandoned that which should matter to us, that which was part of being true to ourselves. And I miss it.

I miss painting.

I miss playing my guitar.

I miss writing.

I miss putting my songs together.

I miss learning for the fun of it and reading until the sun rises.

I miss four hour wikipedia bunny trails.

I miss scraping up weird, independent films and becoming a devoted fan.

I miss holding my nephew every day.

I miss that feeling when I first fell for the boy.

I miss having friends in town to go out with.

I miss Stephen and Jesse's stupid antics.

I miss spontaneous trips up the mountain and doing donuts in the taco bell parking lot.

I miss quietly drawing in a corner until I have it exactly the way I imagined it in my head.

How much have I abandoned that we should be free at any time to explore? We are free but fruitless. I challenge you to rise up to the potential beyond the requisites. Do something more than what's needed to get by. Look outside of your needs, and show yourself what you want to do.






Link of the day!!! This post too dramatic for you? I understand. It's okay. I've started another blog. I'm aiming for hilarity and nonsense, none of that dramatic, depressing or morally obligating blather! Check it out at http://clickypenstranger.blogspot.com

Sunrise

It was Friday night a few hours ago. I got off work early, did some banking, got some Chinese take-out. Then I conversed via the netterwaves with my friends until, one by one, they dropped off to sleep.

For once in a long, long while I do not work on a Saturday morning. So I decided, around perhaps two in the morning, that rather than going to sleep then and there, I would stay a while. I want to see the sunrise.

It's been a long time since I've been so "irresponsible", I suppose. But then again, I'm an adult now and it's my turn to decide what that means. This isn't a moment of irresponsibility. This is a life experience.

The last time I saw an actually sunrise, I cannot recall. I only recall the last time I was up whilst the sun was rising. I did not see that sunrise, though it ended a night marred with nightmares, which is what awoke me from my rest so early. That was late last fall.

It's very frightening, that hour before the sky really lights up. The sky is not so deep a blue as it was in the evening. It feels as though I could nearly smell the nearing dawn. And it's quiet. So quiet. Thus every sound is amplified. Each rustle of an insect in the brush is an imagined evil of the night. Every muffled tap of a cat hopping onto the roof of a car is the footsteps of a nighttime psychopath, fresh from the asylum.

To comfort my irrational fears I write. My creativity flows because suddenly I need it, like a shield, protection against the dark before dawn.

I sit on my porch and listen and breathe deeply. Someone's air condition near by shuts off and the silence is deeper even than it was before. The only sound is that of my typing and tiny, unnamed night noises.

I can see a planet. I think it's Mars. It's got an indistinct red tint to it. Or perhaps that's my eyes playing tricks on me. Is that the television on in my neighbor's front room? It is! Good grief. Everyone knows there's no good television on at five in the morning.

It's getting lighter in the east. Just a tiny bit. A solitary truck drives by and I wonder what could have possessed the driver to be up at this hour. Perhaps he is sleep driving.

The moon is nearly full tonight. This morning? I do not know. It's indistinct when you've yet to sleep. But of all the light, my streetlight is the brightest. There's one just outside my house. Usually it doesn't work. It's ironic that it should only work now, when I would make a bid to see the sunrise.

An indistinguishable tint of yellow permeates the deep blue at the edge of the eastern sky. It is nine past five in the morning. The sun should rise in twenty minutes, if the chart I looked up is correct. I wonder if the sun ever rises at the exact same time, or if it's always just a fraction of a moment out of pace?

There is a thunderstorm far to the north west. I do not hear the thunder rumbling, but every once in a while the northern sky lights up with a flash of lightning. It's almost surreal, somehow. The quiet, the purplish red below the belt of green and yellow beyond the eastern mountains, the flickering clouds in the north, it all seems like some unbelievable place, something from a sci fi movie or a fantasy realm.

It certainly doesn't ring true to what I've come to know of reality. Is this the world without people? With less people? I don't know what to make of it. The silence is like nothing I've ever experienced. What is in this silence?

I'm afraid that if I look away too long, I'll miss it. The sky is changing so quickly! There's a thin line of what could nearly be daytime sky blue between the deep blue and the yellow! And then an unsettling maroon at the edge of the sky.

I can still see Mars. The last lonely twinkle in the sky.

It's getting cooler. That's so strange. It just feels so odd, especially in a desert like this, for this sudden rush of cool that preceeds the sunrise. Perhaps it's what wakes up the birds. I can hear some of them now, quiety twittering, shouting out to one another from the trees.

It's truely amazing how one singular light, even one so great as the sun, can chase away the vast darkness of space. I say this because it's so strange to see the darkness flee, driven away. There is so much more darkness than there is sun. And yet the sun overpowers it daily.

I wonder when the streetlights will shut off. I wonder when Mars will fade.

Heh. Now it seems like the sun is taking its sweet time. There are some clouds on the east horizon. I wonder, is sunrise when the sun peaks over the mountains, or over the clouds obscuring those mountains?

For a brief moment, I wonder where that music, like bells, is coming from. Then I see that some unfelt morning wind has stirred the wind-chimes. It's perfect. I could not ask for a better instrument on which to play my sunrise.

Mars is dim. The sun would be up, if not for those clouds. A line of large, sleepy ants meanders past me. The early shift, I suppose.

I have a "I should be sleeping" headache. The sun was to rise around 5:35. It's nearly ten minutes past that and I still can't see it. It's those clouds. The world is illuminated, and I can't even quite see the sun yet. It's as though the sun has never taken such pains in rising before. Each moment the sky is brighter, but still the sun evades me.

I'm determined. I will see the sun before I submit to sleep and fail to extricate myself from warm, seductive dreams.

The world is bright but the sun is nowhere to be found! Perhaps it has disappeared, and left only its light to remember it by?

In the morning this desert city smells as the mountains do. Fresh and clean, cleansed somehow in the night. It's wondrous.

Oh! Some bold, foolish bird hopped into a dense potted plant here by my side! Looking for the bees that about in it, I suppose! I heard him rustling in the plant and turned abruptly, surprised, and frightened the silly creature away.

There it is! At last!I've seen the world awaken. And the shy but glorious sun comes forth and peaks through her curtain of clouds. Even the sun slept in on a Saturday. And now I think I'll do the same. Good morning! And Goodnight!

There she goes... there she goes again

GAH!! Always this ridiculous obsession with love!

Thank you Chritian's dad from Mulin Rouge! That'll be enough of your ranting!! It's my turn, and I'll raise your rant a rave. Love. I always come back to this one concept, which stands tall in the middle of everything and becomes the most important thing in the world.

How is it that it always comes back to love?

Avoiding it is like trying to escape a quick orbit around the sun. It just seems so impossible. It's always on my mind. I do try to think of other things, important things. Of course! I cannot really base my own value on the love that I wish I had.

There are many other important things in the world! Like what am I gonna do if/when the American government crumbles and we dive into civil war or poverty? They do love their penniless artists in France, I suppose. Perhaps the Canadians could smuggle me over somehow?

Or what about writing the next novel to go down in history? I've gotta get ON that! And what about READING all the classics that came before mine? And what about learning everything there is to know? And applying that knowledge? I still have to find a cure for cancer! And I didn't finish that hat I started knitting yet....

THERE'S SO MUCH TO DO! So why is my brain still all tied up and entangled in the wild concept of love? So much to do, yet does the hope of having love come and sweeps all my thoughts off the table and plunge me into fantasy.

Is love really this big, or is it just when we're young and hormonal? I mean, really? Plenty of people have time for war and peace and saving the environment and making money. Surely love isn't throwing them ALL off the same way it throws me and all my equally young and hormonal friends off!?

And then the many (really, it seems like everybody is either dating or undatable! Ludicrous!) lucky people that find a match to hug and kiss and hold or be held by, they don't seem to understand just how HUGE love really it!

They use it almost nonchalantly! Don't they realize just how important it is? The word love is not a term to be thrown around! Good heavens, what are you doing!? Getting past the third date SURELY does not unlock the level of love! LOVE IS NOT LEVEL FOUR, and romance is NOT a game!

Love is this powerful, unconditional thing, and teenagers are skipping around and tossing it like a Frisbee! NO! Don't say it until it is always true. And PLEASE. Be realistic. You've known each other only for a little while. Don't base love on feeling alone!

Love is a feeling, yes. It's also an action and a fact! Body, mind and spirit, right? Of course your spirit's soaring. Your body is pumped full of happy horomones, or what-have-you. As for your brain, somehow it ALWAYS gets left in the dust. Think about it, critically and realistically. Ask yourself, will this work?

If you don't know for absolute certain, then bite your tongue! Wait until you know beyond the shadow of a doubt. And allow me to remind you, it helps if the object of your affections feels the same. Love is a feeling, a thought, an infatuation as well as an agreement with another person.

Personally, I think you love somebody as soon as you plan on marrying them and staying forever by their side. Before that, it's an infatuation and a friendship. Before that, you really DON'T know for certain.

My feelings say there is no greater thing than love. My mind says, nuh UH! There's more to life than that! My body back-hands me with a large dose of hormones and I stand, confused. I look to my left, look to my right, make a wish at 11:11, cross my fingers and start moving forward.

That nifty knitter stabbed you with a knitting needle!!

THAT'S IT! I won't stand for it anymore! No fear! No foolishness! NO procrastinating!! I'm gonna do this thing! At long last, I will make me a hat!!

For too long we wait. It's a dream, but it isn't of immediate or obvious benefit to ourselves. Maybe it's a silly dream, and not doing it isn't a disaster to be averted. But really, it could be the saddest little truth. It's easy to do just enough. Work just enough to afford what you need, and your simple wants. And so it's all we do!

Believe you me, great artists, famous actors, the geniuses and celebrities of our times were not satisfied with "enough". They started out with just that much, and then they said NO! I want more, and I'm willing to get what I want!

Yes, this brings up an obvious argument. Selfish personal gain. DON'T USE THAT TO JUSTIFY WASTING YOUR LIFE!! I know that's not what I want!! I do not simply wish to exist! I wish to make some small impact on the world I live in!!

Or you know what? I'd be satisfied just to make an impact on a few people IN that crazy little world!! It's not selfish personal gain! It is you making the world a better place! Adding to it before you go! Don't just be satisfied to break even when you say adieu! There should be some kind of profit!

Profit for yourself, for others, it doesn't matter as long as you don't break even, and end up with a wasted life. There's nothing less spectacular in this world than that!! You can succeed spectacularly, you can fail spectacularly, but averaging out just does nothing.

This is a call to arms! Stand up and fight back the weariness that would send you to your grave with nothing to show for it! Sweep the lazy curtains back from your eyes and DO SOMETHING!!!

Write a book! Too much? Alright, a poem! Sing your significant other a song you wrote yourself!! Or sing along with a love song on the radio! Paint something and frame it! No? FINE! Doodle on a sheet of notebook paper and stick it on the fridge!! Personally, I'm gonna make someone a hat!! GO, GO, GO!!!









Link of the day!!!! ORRRRR if you wanna keep procrastinating, this is a fun way to do that....
HellOOOOOOO shopping cart hero!!!

Adventures in Craigslist

Intellect, atheism and theism.

I had the strangest random argument with a random stranger this week. He replied to an add I put on craigslist, of all things. At some point there was information looking for someone both intelligent and of a particular theism. It was to this that he replied.

You won't find an intelligent religious type, not often, he said.

I, in all good manners, replied, rather than deleting. I suggested it was closed minded of him to say so, and that I myself was acquainted with many an intelligent theist.

And then it got complicated. He attacked the particular theism that I had referred to, and claimed that all intelligent people were atheists, or would be, some day, because that was in fact the result of critical thinking.

Look, I'm not anti atheist, but good grief!! What a ridiculous, general statement! Yes, there were studies he cited, but there were just as many that in fact came up with exactly the opposite conclusion! And generally his studies only used groups of scientists as their intellectual guinea pigs!! Trust me, intelligence is not saved only for the scientists. There are english majors and teachers and philosophers and more!

For a while I enjoyed discussing the topic, but more and more often he was simply offensive and rude, rather than professional! Whatever happened to honest, respectful debate for the sake of learning?

What kind of lonely nut case wanders craigslist looking for people to call stupid? What, he can't get any REAL people to listen to him whine, so he looks online? Or perhaps he's a wimp that can't stand up to somebody unless it's anonymous and untraceable?

Stupidity abounds in atheists and theists alike! Just as not all atheists are scientists, not all intellects are atheists!

I played by his game for a while, in a respectful manner, of course (unlike him, I might add), but eventually I decided he was wasting my time. If he wants to toot his atheistic, intellectual horn, he should write a book or start a blog. Not search through craigslist personals for people to put on the defensive.

Because I for one don't care to argue with someone who can't be bothered to question their own beliefs, but delight in questioning mine.




LINK OF THE DAY!! This game makes me feel like an explosives expert! http://www.physicsgames.net/game/Demolition_City.html

An existential crisis

It on occasion bothers me, life. I sometimes feel that it doesn't have any worth on its own. Not for everyone. Some people make their lives valuable, by how they think, the people that they strive to be, rarely by what they do. WHO they are is valuable. It's something specific that I look for in other people of which I myself fall short on occasion, at least concerning my own personal standards.

Depth.

Perhaps that's a pretentious word. It suggests a certain distaste for "shallow" people, and often the kind of people that so desperately hate "shallow" people make nearly everyone out to be shallow. I could understand the majority of the population hating such a person, as well as being such a person. People are crazy. But we all knew that.

I had to take a step back from the chaos in my mind and figure out what I meant by depth. There was some great appeal to making my life worth something, in order to share it with those that matter to me. Friends, family, a special man someday, maybe even something bigger than all that. I want to have something of worth to share.

Of course I want a fair trade. Maybe it's too much to ask people to make their lives worth something? I doubt it. I think there are very specific things that lend value to a person.

Intellect, balanced with grace. Courage, balanced by wisdom. Love and loyalty. What is it that makes somebody valuable? What makes me worth anything? Does being intelligent but cocky about it lose me points? Is it even a point system at all!?

All I know is that this special kind of worth is what attracts me to certain people. Friends. Possible loves. Mentors. Then again there's my family. Are they somehow exempt from my system of worthy attraction?

Or perhaps it is just that the better I know a person, the easier it is to see their worth.







LINK OF THE DAY!!! Honestly I may have published this post specifically so that I could post this link. I've found the brownie bible. I wept when I found it for it was the truth, the way and all the recipes for the best brownies you never thought were actually man-bake-able. My life is now complete. http://thebrownieproject.wordpress.com/

Hunks of awesome awkward: A life story

Life is awkward. Which can honestly be great fun.

I don't hate being awkward. Yes, it makes meeting new people hard. Also yes, it makes alienating people that I dislike very, very easy.

It's like some kind of crazy super power! You don't understand. Keep overbearing, annoying salespeople from talking to you!

Those people from the mall kiosks that follow you around and ask you questions about your hair, teeth, skin and feet? They can be kept at bay solely via bad social skills!

Of course sometimes you will get nabbed, and will be obligated to slip away with multiple petty lies and obviously unfelt apologies. That's a different form of awkward, one of the kinds I'm less at peace with.

Everybody knows the random not-applicable-answer awkward moments. If you've ever bought or sold at a grocery store, you know what I mean.

"Hello!"
"Yeah, you too!"

"Have a nice day!"
"Not bad, how about you?"

These are very entertaining. Just keep the ball rolling and they'll do their best to pretend it didn't happen. Also, enjoy.

Dress oddly. Or boldly. Pick your adjective, either works.

Really conservative people HATE it. Eventually they will have to talk to you, and when they do you're sure to get a nasty stare, shrewdly judging your carefully crafted ensemble. It's ironic that grown men and women are no better than school children in this respect.

My favorite of these actually looked me up and down, asked me if I worked "here" (yes I dress oddly at work), and did a double take when I said I did. I suppose some people might have been offended, but I found it hilarious.

These are great fun. Grow a fetish for odd straps or outlandish hats. You'll like the results. Either you'll find it funny, or you'll have a great rude customer story by the end the day!

(this works even better in churches!)

Alright. My favorite of all favorite awkward situations would be the awkward date goodbye. (I am THE awkward date. See: The Last Stand) This one is fairly new. Two people with no ability to say goodbye have come to that point in the conversation.

You've regressed to small talk, and clearly are getting ready to head your separate ways. But neither seems to know where to draw the line and end it. I never had a talent for saying goodbye, I just tend to wait until my victim makes a run for it. It doesn't quite work this way when neither person knows how to go about it.

So, whilst still talking, begin to back away from each other, casually, slowly. It's like you're being sneaky or something. Circle each other, looking for an unguarded moment to make a break for it!

Once you finally get far enough away from each other that casual conversation voices are no longer prudent, shout a quick goodbye or wave awkwardly before dashing back to the safety of your various modes of transportation.

I suppose that could be considered unpleasant, if you're not a connoisseur of the awkward. People hate awkward. Most consider a date good if there were no awkward pauses. I think a new take is in order.

Look at your awkward moments in a new and amusing light! Awkward is just too much fun for you to suffer through it. Enjoy it! Life is awkward. Life is interesting!





DISCLAIMER: SOME OF THESE EVENTS MAY HAVE BEEN EXAGGERATED EITHER FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT OR FOR MY OWN PERSONAL SATISFACTION.


LINK OF THE DAY!!!!
Oh man. If you're too lazy to actually cook it, you can just read the recipe. It's like food porn. Just thinking about this uber delicious brickle recipe gives me shudders of delight. (but seriously. Make some. And make ME some. MMmmmmmm.)
http://www.macheesmo.com/2009/06/brickle/

Just STAAAAANDIN' in the raAAIIIN!

Extreme weather incurs powerful feelings.

The monsoon season is a time of terrifying beauty and intense power in the desert. Thunder rumbles across the sand and reverberates off of the distant mountains.

Lightning writhes throughout the heavens and casts shadows between the curtains of dark clouds in a light show never yet replicated by man.

It just doesn't seem natural to toss a city into the midst of this supernatural show of strength. Cars moving between sheets of rain. Traffic lights backed by by the majesty of a lightening lit sky.

It's like putting a statue (a glorious one such as Bernini's Ecstasy of St. Theresa) on the edge of a volcano or just above a towering water fall. It seems like nonsense. Such a strange contrast, such heights of extreme.

It is strange. But somehow it's one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen or known.

So I hike up my pajama pants and trek out on my bare feet as the rain pours down. I wander the incredible world changed by the water on the ground and in the sky, the lightning and the clouds. I become a part of it.

I kick through the puddles and the water weighs down my lashes and soaks my hair, and I have never felt so alive.

I am a banana

It's true. I am a banana. I'm yellow and frankly kind of weird looking. My outside is gross and odd, and really does nothing of interest. My insides, however, are delicious, and perfect for smoothies and banana bread. (but not banana muffins because muffins are really creepy)

Okay, fruity metaphor aside. So many people are focused on just how entertaining someone is outside of themselves. You've got to do interesting things, be seen in interesting places full of other interesting people.

Nonsense!

Nonsense, I cry! Those poor people of action never slow down and work on all the mad excitement that should be going on inside their brains! Thinking is nearly a lost art!

I think one of the more fantastic past times is just thinking. It develops your mind. You can just sit there and think, or you can read or listen, and think about what you've read or heard.

Maybe I'm just making this complaint because I'm a really boring person, and my only excuse for my deplorable state is that I'm thinking. Maybe I'm bitter because the only interesting thing that the outside of me does is get slipped on in cartoons. (back to the fruit metaphor)

But maybe if you'd talk to me, you'd see how interesting I am on the inside. Ask anyone, we all think the inside matters more than the outside, in the long run.

Now how do you find out what's going on inside their head? Talk to them. Speak up! I would be a prominent citizen in the city of Dictionopolis. There's nothing more important than words and the thoughts that create them!

I implore you, think! And I beg of you, speak! More interesting than all that you will do is all that you will think, if only you will tell me all about it.

Odyssey

It had traveled some time since it was bought for cheap in a distant, unknown store in the swimming section. It likely was bought just at the beginning of the summer, not but a month or two ago.

Perhaps it was carried by a group, and in their flurry and excitement, it was left. Maybe it was the same group that bought it to begin with. I rather hope not. I'd like to think otherwise.

Perhaps this particular bright green foam pool noodle has thus far had a long and rather adventurous life, for a child's pool toy. It had of course been received by a delighted youngster, probably as a cheap birthday gift. What better gift for a summer birthday at the pool?

The little child had probably ignored the momentary angry flash in his mother's eyes, a bitter dart shot toward the frugal mother that had been so cheap as to buy the birthday boy a pool noodle. The kid didn't care. he had a tool, a weapon, a pet sea monster. He had something that he could hit his friends with that didn't seem to anger any of the parents.

He'd struck gold, as far as he was concerned.

but on their trip back from the pool an argument broke out. Somebody had received enough noodle welts to last him a lifetime and finally tore the noodle privileges from the noodle king by force. A struggle ensued, and the noodle was dropped into the wash of no return, lost to it's barely new owner forever.

Perhaps a few days later a team of rowdy teenagers playing with airsoft guns happened across this lost treasure. Of course teenage boys aren't so different from little boys when it comes to flexible, foam clubs. The main difference is that they probably hit harder.

I'm sure that at some point these teens realized that carrying a neon green noodle about displayed their position quite accurately to their friends with the airsoft guns. So of course it ended up back at camp, where they might harass each other with it later.

But that harassment was never to be. A strong wind kicked up and swept the mysterious noodle away, across a highway and into a sheltered neighborhood. Adventures abounded, but this magical noodle never stayed in one place for too long. A pair of college students going for a lazy Sunday bike ride would find it in a week or two.

The college boy (not being too unlike his close cousins, the small boy and the teen-aged boy) picked it up and bothered his companion with it, poking and prodding with his new-found toy. His companion was vaguely amused, as were any other bicyclists or motorists whom happened to catch an eyeful of a grown man on a bike toting a bright green pool noodle.

At length the ride was over and the pair parted ways. He kept his little memento though. Left it in the back of his open truck bed. Too bad he forgot it was there when he drove some distance on a hot, dusty highway. It leaped from the truck bed and took flight, away to the desert unknown.

Who knows. It's probably still out there. Wandering the wasteland. Waiting for its next adventure. I almost envy it.




Long story short, we found a pool noodle. And then we lost it. Its time with us was fleeting. (I made up the rest)



I HAD to publish this post JUST so I could post this freakin amazing LINK OF THE DAY!!
http://www.nobodyhere.com/justme/nose_send.here It's INSANE. Which is kind of the point.

If only, If only

Have you ever had something you wanted and thought about often enough that it started popping up in your dreams?

Dreams are funny like that. If you think about it a lot, be it good or bad, it's bound to show up. Worry about school ALL the time and you WILL dream of showing up to the final naked. Or some other school related nightmare. Always thinking about that boy/girl? Yeah, he/she is definitely going to make an appearance in your dreams.

Not that there won't be lots and lots of really random, unnecessary dreams about evil construction cones and the dark side of the floating Bermuda triangle that rear-ended you in traffic the other week. But the occasional bit of what you really want is bound to make an appearance sooner or later.

I myself have had a topic to which I have been giving a great deal of thought for some time now. It just made it's first premier in my dreams this last week.

First a nightmare of high school past. Last came an unusual bit where Darth Vader made an attempt to keep children all over the globe from having fun, only to discover that he was in fact my father after he drew a beard on my face in crayon. In the middle of these two dreams was another, in which I was given a perfect slice of exactly what I wanted.

It felt so very, very real that I was convinced halfway through the next dream that it really did happen. At last! It really happened! I can't wait to wake up and tell everybody-- wait. Wake up? Oh NOES!!

Only after I had convinced Vader to leave the public library and he had introduced me to my long lost and much older brother (ironically a coworker of mine) and we'd gone to a family outing at Justin's Water World did the truth set in.

This was a dream. And so was that. The thing that I had most wanted, that I had been walking on air (sleeping on air?) because I'd finally gotten, it wasn't real. My subconscious had lied to me.

No, I AM your father!!
No. NO. That's not true. That's impossible!
Search your feelings. You know it to be true.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!




Link of the DAY!!
This game is addictive. This game is ridiculous. This game is... Perfect!!
http://www.cardtoss.com/ check it out!
(I know, I know, my second tossing game in two posts.... but could YOU resist?)

The last stand

Recently I found myself on the couch, embroiled in the last half of the last movie of the Lord of the Rings series, which was being shown on some obscure satellite movie channel. An army of men on horses faced what appeared to be an unbeatable foe: A massive army of angry looking bald men with painted faces and giant war elephants that were larger than your typical 2 story building.

At first there's a glimmer of hope as the courageous men on horses charge the evil elephants. Then they're brutally trampled to death.

You know what that massive elephant army reminds me of? Hint: one of my greatest fears of all time. (There's about nine of those now. Zombies, roaches, the dark, the thing, fear itself, failure, guitar strings (that's new) and that which I will reveal to you presently.)

Dating.

Don't get me wrong. I like guys. Just like any other woman I enjoy/bitterly hate a good crush, but I'm terrified of the whole dating scene. I feel just like what those poor dudes on horses must have felt. I'm facing something strange and unknown (a guy who's actually interested in me), and if I fail here I'll be promptly trampled to death (crushed).

Whilst comparing my love life to Lord of the Rings (dear lord what have I DONE!?) I might as well remember that the dudes on horses actually WON that battle. But I suspect they were the first to do so. I'm sure the evil elephant men trampled a lot of undeserving armies before they got to our courageous little horsemen.

So if this isn't the battle that I'm meant to win, then I certainly hope I won't be so trampled that I can't pick myself up, put myself back together and fight another day.




DISCLAIMER: to anyone of interest who may in fact read my blog: No worries. I'm exaggerating.


OH MAN. BEST link of the day EVAR!! This game is addictive. wind speed? I mean, really? AWESOME. Check out
http://www.widro.com/throwpaper.html

so much better than the real thing.

Let them eat Cake! (or some OTHER kind of comfort food!)

Ah, comfort food, comfort items, rituals and things and places and feelings that put us in the comfort zone.

I know that almost every motivational speaker tells you to get out of your comfort zone. But where there's a comfort zone, there's a zone right outside of it that's called a war zone. Heck, if you stay out of your comfort zone for too long, it's likely to get hit by a stray anti-aircraft missile.

BOOM! No more comfort zone. Sh**! Now what? Are we doomed to wander the war zone for the remainder of our zone occupation? Nooooo! I won't stand for it!!

There must be some semblance of comfort out here in the war zone!

And then there was pudding. And comfort objects such as the ratty old bunny that was presented to me at birth (*but* that I assuredly do *not* sleep with *anymore*). And best of all, comfort tv shows! Like scrubs, smallville and any form of animated batman (the best of said being the originals from the sixties, Batman the animated series, and The Batman).

On days when I eat pudding, I display it loudly and happily in all my status updates as a glorious time of pudding eating. But in reality, it means I had a bad day. And so pudding I must eat.

(what better comfort food is there? The sugar free is JUST as delicious as the regular, it's instant, and it's really, REALLY delicious!)

And then there was batman. Do I really need to explain why batman is so comforting? He's a man. ONLY a man. He uses his exceptional (but entirely normal and human) mind to uncover mysteries and predict people's actions, and to keep a large, successful company on its feet so that he can afford all his wicked awesome gear. He in turn keeps his body strong and tuned so he's ready for any bad guy. Human or otherwise. And his tv shows have ALL the best theme songs. Case in point.

As for that bunny that I *don't* sleep with, that's none of your business.

The take away of all this is that although it's good to get outside your comfort zone, it's good to take a little bit of it with you, out into the war zone. No soldier leaves his camp and goes out into the war zone without taking something to protect himself with. (hopefully)

The curious incident of the dog who knew too much

I find myself talking more often and more in depth and more at ease with my dog than with anybody else. Ridiculous! You say. Well. . . Maybe. Then again, why not?

Talking to my dog gives me a chance to speak freely without fear of misspeaking or offending. She won't think less of me if I say something that doesn't quite add up. She'll even listen intently when I don't make sense and have to repeat myself three times to get it right.

At one time I cared for two poodles who lived in a large lonely house. To qualm my fears at night (for my alone time in the large dark space gave my imagination far too much free time) I would banter happily with the dogs until I could not keep myself awake any longer. It was a comfort to speak so freely then.

Really it's just an inner monologue, spoken.

And I think everyone has those, on some level. Some people talk to themselves. Some just sort of think to themselves. Others choose inanimate objects as their hapless victims. It's good for you, I'm sure.

When you talk to yourself, or to your dog, or to your dashboard, you're practicing a real life social skill. You're learning how to better string your own words together out loud to say what's on your mind.

Plus it kind of helps that the dog is sweet and encouraging. She won't think less of me later. I suppose on rare occasion you'll find yourself a person that you can talk to.

There's somebody out there with whom you can be completely honest. You needn't fear what they'll think of you later. They admire you entirely based on who you are. You or I only might be lucky enough to find that person.

Until then my dog must suffice.




DISCLAIMER: I'm really not crazy. really. And I CAN talk to people. If I want.


Link of the day!! Check out Microsoft's new search engine. Does it suck? Well, it WAS made by microsoft. . . but what do I know? I'm a Mac, myself. Find out for yourself what you think of http://www.bing.com/

I rode my bicicle past your window last night...

Let me make perfectly clear to you my opinion on bicycles.

They're wonderful! What a clever invention! Except that some idiot had to go and invent the car. That spells imminent doom for some fraction of the bicycle riding population.

And then there's this: I live in a desert. Won't tell you which one, but there's sun, sand and cactus galore.

You think riding into a palm tree hurts? At least palm trees don't have spines. And once you actually hit the tree, you can pick yourself up and try again. Not so with cactus. With the cactus you're stuck till someone decides to brave the spines and untangle you.

And then there's that sun. In the summer it can get up to and even well over 110 degrees during the day. Oh it burns. Oh you sweat. Oh I hope you aren't going to school or work or anywhere else practical, because if you are you may have to tote a fresh change of clothes and some deodorant along with your briefcase or backpack.

And good luck with your hair. What nutcase invented bike helmets? Are those pathetic little slots supposed to keep your head cool and your hair dry? Because if so, EPIC FAIL!!!! And there is NO chicken for you.

Now then, have I explained for you the nasty and unpleasant bit about bicycles? Are you satisfied in knowing that I hate them? Because you would be wrong.

I have a sweet retro ladies street bike with shiny butterfly handles and a glistening red paint job. I have several conditions about riding it, however.

First of all, I mustn't plan on going anywhere. A bicycle is for fun and recreation ONLY! No practical uses!

However, I may violate that first one there if anyone goes about inventing a bicycle helmet that doesn't plaster your hair to your head with sweat. I could stand to tote clothes and deodorant, but I'm not bringing a collapsable shower to wash my hair in too. That's where I draw the line. There must be ventilated bike helmets!

Second, which may be ignored if the above clause is put into action, I hate helmets. Like I said, sweat. Gross. I will not wear a helmet whist riding a bicycle. Not until they invent a decent helmet.

Third and most important is this: I like to ride my bike at night and on rainy or overcast days. There's no better day or time to wander about on your be-wheeled beast of burden than at night, when the smells of evening like orange blossoms and summer barbecues permeate the air. Nor is there a better time than when you can smell the mud of the coming rain and the air is clean for once.

How perfect a time it can be, to fly over the streets and past the trees, and to let your mind wander as widely and freely as you can.

Breakfast for my Midnight Feast: A Memoir (not really, but that'd be the best title ever)

When did we get into this fantastic food feng shui (fung shway)? In a strange and magical land where certain things are best for breakfast, while others are more dinner items, what is fresh and new, and what is taboo? What can I say? It's food feng shui!

I love a good bowl of cold cereal for breakfast. Maybe it's cinnamon delicioso crunch or chocolate frosted sugar bombs. Whole milk or two percent, skim perhaps, or even soy milk will be my cereal's cool companion.

Remember when the more expensive, sugary cereals came with a prize in the box? The lucky kid remembered to keep the awesome spoon they got out of a cereal box a long time ago in a galaxy far away, that one that changes colors when they put it in milk? Yeah, we all had one. Don't deny it. If you didn't have it, you envied someone who did.

But can such a delightful dish be kept to only the early hours?

No! I will not make it so, Captain!! I will not let it be! Those aren't words of wisdom! Set it free!

Cereal is a meal for any time, and the guidelines are simple:

• If it's morning, you're good, no matter what. That first wake up meal of the day, no matter when YOUR morning starts, is breakfast, and so clearly a good time for cereal.
• If it's afternoon, you had BETTER be wearing PAJAMAS! This is the PAJAMA CLAUSE! It only works if you're in pjs, folks. Else your breakfast cereal rights may be suspended.
• Dinner? Of COURSE cereal is acceptable for dinner! But not a run-of-the-mill right on time dinner. It must be later than you usually would take dinner, OR after seven pm in your specific time zone.
• Breakfast cereal is a great snack even with out the milk. You can have THAT anytime, and in any condition. Except for at breakfast. If you're having it for breakfast, don't be cheap with the milk.
• Midnight snack. Ladies and Gentlemen, there is no greater midnight snack than this: That a man or a woman might lay down their Mac book for a bowl of cereal.

Amen.

The Time/Money paradox

Time is the most valuable thing there can be, in this world or any other. It's the most exhaustible resource that exists. It is priceless. You can never buy more time.

Time is the only thing we come into this world with. We can waste it, barter it, or use it to build and grow. It's the thing of great value that we can offer in this world before we have anything else. I'll trade my time for knowledge, and then, when I've added that knowledge to some more time, I can get a job out of the deal.

Then I can add that job and my knowledge to yet more time, and get money out of it. Then that money, with some more time, may someday buy me a home.

You'd think that by this point, I'd be exhausted. It's surprising how much of our time we like to keep for ourselves, to hoard away. It is, after all, our most precious resource.

What is the best was to spend this precious, priceless thing? Some must be given to get an education, to make money, to eat and to live. Where might the precious left-overs be spent, that they might not be wasted? Should we get more sleep, or while the time away in fantasy, or invest it in our television?

Perhaps. Enjoying something brought to you by someone else's well spent time is a worthy expenditure, is it not? I'm fairly certain that Van Gogh's Starry Night took much time. Just as I'm certain that Joss Wheden took time when he came up with his brilliant shows, and every great author took hours and days and months, and sometimes years to give us their glorious fantasies.

We could enjoy theirs, or do the same with our own. Of course, one of the best ways to spend something so valuable is with someone we value. I will give my time to my family, a significant other someday, my children, in the far future.

Take the time to create, to grow, to love. Surely it's worth it.