Tonight my sister, brother-in-law and grandmother are over for my father's birthday. We had dinner, dessert and opened presents. The usual mundane family birthday activities. I retreated to my room afterwards to work on some papers I have due later this week, along with other homework.
Sooner or later someone suggests the whole "lets watch old home videos" game plan. I say "no, thanks" and continue work on my marvelous laptop. After a while I hear the echoes of the television seep through the walls as they often do. I hear my squeaky four year old voice, excitedly muttering something about Santa and my sister. I immediately know which home video this is. Christmas 1995. My eyes bulge out of my head as I open a gift that has a dalmation on it or something, a dinner plate or like objects. Everything I open I want to share with someone.
I hear the bells of "Santa" a.k.a. my Uncle, and the family makes a huge fuss over him as he walks through the front door carrying presents in arm. I talk so fast no one can understand me. I hear my late grandfather's voice directing me where to go, who to hug, and when to smile for a picture. This is the reason why I can't take a break and go watch our ridiculous antics with everyone else. If only he was here today to tell me where to turn, who to trust, and what I should do. I hear his voice travel through the walls and into my ears, soothing like an old melody you used to know. I had forgotten what it sounded like. God how I loved his voice.
For fear that tears will begin to flood my eyes, I'll stay in my safe room in the comfort of solitude. I know I'll never have a Christmas like that again. I'll never be so excited over a pillow, plate, or stuffed puppy. He'll never be there again to help me rip off bows, save me from his rabid cat, or listen to me follow along as we sing Rudolph the Rednose Reigndeer.
Seeing him along with hearing him would only push me over the edge. Maybe I need that, I don't know. It's too hard, so I run. I can't face him on a video, but I know he's right here with me, tattoed on my shoulder. Sometimes I forget he's there because I can't see him very well. That's sort of how it was when he was alive. He was always there even when I was too oblivious to know he was. When people we love die it leaves an open wound on our hearts. Although wounds heal and our platelets make our blood clot, the wound still leaves a scar and scabs over. Years can go by. But if something hits you just right, slices you deep enough, it can rip right open again. Maybe we need that. Maybe pain is a way to know that you're alive, and scars are a way to know that you have lived.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Eggs
Lets face it, eggs are delicious. They are delicious cooked by themselves, and we also use them as ingredients in many other foods. But who was the first person who thought to cook an egg? Take a second and think about how weird that concept is. Who was the first man or woman to see an egg come out of a chicken, know that somehow whatever is inside forms into a chick, and think to themselves, "hmm.....if i crack that open and heat it over the fire, it might taste good with some cooked wild boar bacon"? Exactly. MMMMMM! Chicken embryo! Sounds delicious to me. Or even if no one knew that a baby chicken would form from the goo, still. ITS GOO! I'm not sure about the rest of the population, but when I encounter a bodily fluid or substance, my first thought isn't "hey, I think I'll cook and eat this". That person was probably said to be crazy, until they convinced another person to try it. And even still, after cooking eggs and eating them became a common practice, who was then the first person who decided we needed them in order to make such things as cake, bread, etc? These discoveries could possibly have been by accident, as many discoveries are. Although I have no idea how that could've happened either. They probably took place long before written history. Caveman ages, whatever. Well, to whoever invented the concept of cooking and eating eggs, be it chicken or otherwise, our society thanks you.
P.S.- how did eggs become a signature breakfast food instead of dinner or lunch?
Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for tuning in to one of the many events of what goes on between my ears.
P.S.- how did eggs become a signature breakfast food instead of dinner or lunch?
Ladies and Gentleman, thank you for tuning in to one of the many events of what goes on between my ears.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Summer I Started Learning
In March of 2010, I stopped going to college. I didn't even technically drop out, I just stopped going and didn't sign up for spring classes. The last day of my last winter class, I immediately caught a flight to Florida for my "spring break", although I wouldn't be returning to school after I got home. It was more like the beginning of my seven month "summer". I visited my oldest sister and my best friend. Spending ideal time with each of them, while with my sister I learned that you can have everything without having a constant significant other. You can own a house, have a great job, have fun with friends, drive a decent vehicle, and be independent. While with my best friend, I learned that family is there for you when the world turns its back. Things can get hard, but its never any more than you can handle. I learned that beauty resides in nature, and you can't buy happiness. Happiness is a sunset under the causeway, dimly lit by streetlights, sipping on Captain and Coke with those you hold dear, watching a dolphin break the surface of the water.
In the following months at the ripe eighteen years of age, I learned what lust, infatuation, and love was. I was made to feel special and important in a way I had never felt before. I began to care about another person and make them a priority in a way that frightened, yet excited me. I learned about intimacy and how one person can make your whole day better without saying one word at all. It began with lust, the newness of someone intriguing, attractive, and interested in you. Lust turned into infatuation. Infatuation with the way he showered me with attention, gifts, and the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach when I was with him. It was the first time a man made me his priority, the first time I was treated like a lady instead of "one of the guys". Infatuation turned to love, although it was short-lived. Love made us long for each other in each passing moment apart. We needed one another to get through the day. Our time together was more precious than any other person, event, object, or activity.
Eventually our infatuation phase wore off. When this happens, hopefully you're left with trust, passion, and a deeper level of love than you knew before. Unfortunately this wasn't the case for us. We wouldn't talk for days, and neither of us got upset. We didn't "need" or miss each other when we were gone. We were different people with different goals and prospective life paths, and were just starting to realize it. It changed from an I-can't-sleep-without-you-near-me feeling to an I-kinda-wish-I-was-with-my-friends feeling. In May, we broke it off.
This being said, I learned that you can't define yourself by another person. You shouldn't have to change yourself to fit into the mold someone else makes for you. I also learned what true heartbreak is like. It's sort of like having broken ribs. On the outside it appears as if nothing is wrong, but every breath hurts. Sometimes love just isn't enough. Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it's better to just leave it broken rather than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.
After this I learned how blessed I am to have the circle of friends that I've acquired from the restaurant where I work. My coworkers were nothing short of amazing to me through really tough times. They took me out and made me have fun, got me out of my sweatpants, and threw me back into the world with them. They helped me self-medicate, drank away my sorrows with me, smoked away my negative thoughts, let me sleep on their couches, cry on their shoulders, and pour my heart into their ears. There to save me from dangerous situations I put myself in, make me laugh when I wanted to cry, and encourage me to try new things, they helped me get back to myself. Never did I feel alone. I learned that friends can make a chosen family.
My 19th birthday fell towards the end of May, and my friends made it worth it when my original plans had to be rescheduled. You know someone loves you when they let you crash on their couch with your five pound bag of sour patch on the bathroom floor, your Jack Daniels at your feet and a barf bag near your head. My celebrations continued into the next week, where I learned that burning your parents' furniture in an act of revolt is NEVER a good idea, as good as it may feel in the moment. I was barely at home for three consecutive days, coming home after I knew they were asleep and leaving in the morning before they awoke. My father ceased to speak to me until a week and a half later. Don't burn furniture that isn't yours!
May turned to June and June to July, in which I mostly worked my ass off at the restuarant during the days and partied with coworkers well into the night. I learned not to sleep with anyone in your circle. I learned that not only do you pray before you eat, we pray before we bong. I learned that drinking Jack Daniels straight probably isn't the best idea. Always bring a sleeping bag. I learned that shots of tequila make me throw up at work the next day and give me panic attacks at night. I learned that you should never try to cut your hair while intoxicated, or text, call someone, walk, basically anything that requires cognitive thought and logic should be out of the question.
There is a God and he works at McDonald's.
I learned that sometimes you can trust people that you never thought of confiding in. You have at least one thing in common with every person on this earth.
August brought changes, and many of them. A best friend of mine moved far away, financial and health related hardship struck my family, and the majority of aspects in my life became unstable, stagnant, or unreliable. School started up for many students, and I found myself with tons of free time when my peers were getting prepared to move forward in thier lives and careers. I ended up panicking and running back to the same private community college from which I originally ran away from. I threw myself into it all the way, taking enough classes to be considered full time this year and scheduling my classes so I can work as much as possible.
September rolled around, and started off with a bang. In the first week I went to one last party, and ended up getting an M.I.P. because someone called the cops. I blew a whole .03 on a breathalyzer test I wasn't aware that I could have refused. Don't drink in large numbers, especially with people underage, even if you are included in this category. You are safer with your elders. Tuesday smokedowns and video game tournaments came to a rolling stop, along with parties on weekdays, disc golfing(I learned I cannot physically throw a disc or mentally care about where it lands when in altered states of consciousness) and gathering around a t.v. on Sunday nights to watch HBO. This week was my first week of classes, along with working six days this week, I've been forced to learn and exercise good time management skills, and take care of myself better.
The start of classes marks the end of my seven month summer, in which I have never learned so much in such a short time. I've never been so thankful for my trails and tribulations. Here's to a successful school year, a more mild way of life, and learning from our mistakes.
In the following months at the ripe eighteen years of age, I learned what lust, infatuation, and love was. I was made to feel special and important in a way I had never felt before. I began to care about another person and make them a priority in a way that frightened, yet excited me. I learned about intimacy and how one person can make your whole day better without saying one word at all. It began with lust, the newness of someone intriguing, attractive, and interested in you. Lust turned into infatuation. Infatuation with the way he showered me with attention, gifts, and the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach when I was with him. It was the first time a man made me his priority, the first time I was treated like a lady instead of "one of the guys". Infatuation turned to love, although it was short-lived. Love made us long for each other in each passing moment apart. We needed one another to get through the day. Our time together was more precious than any other person, event, object, or activity.
Eventually our infatuation phase wore off. When this happens, hopefully you're left with trust, passion, and a deeper level of love than you knew before. Unfortunately this wasn't the case for us. We wouldn't talk for days, and neither of us got upset. We didn't "need" or miss each other when we were gone. We were different people with different goals and prospective life paths, and were just starting to realize it. It changed from an I-can't-sleep-without-you-near-me feeling to an I-kinda-wish-I-was-with-my-friends feeling. In May, we broke it off.
This being said, I learned that you can't define yourself by another person. You shouldn't have to change yourself to fit into the mold someone else makes for you. I also learned what true heartbreak is like. It's sort of like having broken ribs. On the outside it appears as if nothing is wrong, but every breath hurts. Sometimes love just isn't enough. Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it's better to just leave it broken rather than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.
After this I learned how blessed I am to have the circle of friends that I've acquired from the restaurant where I work. My coworkers were nothing short of amazing to me through really tough times. They took me out and made me have fun, got me out of my sweatpants, and threw me back into the world with them. They helped me self-medicate, drank away my sorrows with me, smoked away my negative thoughts, let me sleep on their couches, cry on their shoulders, and pour my heart into their ears. There to save me from dangerous situations I put myself in, make me laugh when I wanted to cry, and encourage me to try new things, they helped me get back to myself. Never did I feel alone. I learned that friends can make a chosen family.
My 19th birthday fell towards the end of May, and my friends made it worth it when my original plans had to be rescheduled. You know someone loves you when they let you crash on their couch with your five pound bag of sour patch on the bathroom floor, your Jack Daniels at your feet and a barf bag near your head. My celebrations continued into the next week, where I learned that burning your parents' furniture in an act of revolt is NEVER a good idea, as good as it may feel in the moment. I was barely at home for three consecutive days, coming home after I knew they were asleep and leaving in the morning before they awoke. My father ceased to speak to me until a week and a half later. Don't burn furniture that isn't yours!
May turned to June and June to July, in which I mostly worked my ass off at the restuarant during the days and partied with coworkers well into the night. I learned not to sleep with anyone in your circle. I learned that not only do you pray before you eat, we pray before we bong. I learned that drinking Jack Daniels straight probably isn't the best idea. Always bring a sleeping bag. I learned that shots of tequila make me throw up at work the next day and give me panic attacks at night. I learned that you should never try to cut your hair while intoxicated, or text, call someone, walk, basically anything that requires cognitive thought and logic should be out of the question.
There is a God and he works at McDonald's.
I learned that sometimes you can trust people that you never thought of confiding in. You have at least one thing in common with every person on this earth.
August brought changes, and many of them. A best friend of mine moved far away, financial and health related hardship struck my family, and the majority of aspects in my life became unstable, stagnant, or unreliable. School started up for many students, and I found myself with tons of free time when my peers were getting prepared to move forward in thier lives and careers. I ended up panicking and running back to the same private community college from which I originally ran away from. I threw myself into it all the way, taking enough classes to be considered full time this year and scheduling my classes so I can work as much as possible.
September rolled around, and started off with a bang. In the first week I went to one last party, and ended up getting an M.I.P. because someone called the cops. I blew a whole .03 on a breathalyzer test I wasn't aware that I could have refused. Don't drink in large numbers, especially with people underage, even if you are included in this category. You are safer with your elders. Tuesday smokedowns and video game tournaments came to a rolling stop, along with parties on weekdays, disc golfing(I learned I cannot physically throw a disc or mentally care about where it lands when in altered states of consciousness) and gathering around a t.v. on Sunday nights to watch HBO. This week was my first week of classes, along with working six days this week, I've been forced to learn and exercise good time management skills, and take care of myself better.
The start of classes marks the end of my seven month summer, in which I have never learned so much in such a short time. I've never been so thankful for my trails and tribulations. Here's to a successful school year, a more mild way of life, and learning from our mistakes.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
To Know Such Intimacy
On a quiet August afternoon, some friends and I were out disc golfing when all of a sudden two beautiful dragonflies, in the middle of the mating process, soared above us. The first thought I had was, "Wow, to know such intimacy".
A male dragonfly's genitalia fit only the female of his species. Imagine never having to deal with trying to find who is "right" for you. You are built for one person, or at least one kind of person only. All others simply won't fit. Once the male has chosen a "fitting" suitor if you will, the two fly together for some time before anything really happens, perhaps getting to know one another. The male usually takes care of the flying while the female rests, what shivalry.
Once the fun begins, the two take on a wheel position, which looks like a heart. Coincidence? Possibly. After about fifteen minutes of heart shaped humping, the female breaks the wheel of love and goes about her day in one of three ways: She may leave the male entirely, detach but remain close to him, or the couple may stay together in flight while she goes about laying eggs. Sounds all too familiar if you ask me. What do humans do after they're done banging? We either leave and never talk to the other person again, stay in a relationship of some sort, or you get pregnant and raise a child together.
If only we could live the life of a dragonfly: Be equipped to physically and emotionally fit only one other person, fly and make love simultaneously, our men shivalrous, our women independent, to soar across the skies, flying, head over wings in a heart with one another. Oh, to know such intimacy
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Perfection
There is no such thing as perfect, for every individual's idea of it differs. There comes a time where you have to tell yourself that it's better to be hated for who you are than to be loved for who you're not. No one can please everyone, so you have to start with yourself. If you are truly happy, you can more easily help others achieve the same thing. Be secure with yourself, who you are, and your decisions. There are people in your life that will always judge you, never quite understand, and will never walk a mile in your shoes to try. Screw those people, and spend your time with those who enjoy spending theirs with you.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Change
Change is inevitable, and never ceases. Some change you just have to deal with. You can also make change happen, which is the beauty of it. If you are unhappy with something, find a way to change it. If it is something you don't possess the power to change, change the way you look at it. I find myself unhappy with many things in my life, and today it hit me. One at a time, I have to grow up and put my plans into action. The majority of complaints I have I can morph into something better for myself, and things I can't, I'll just have to live with. Nervous, scared to the bone, excited for the possibilities, here I go. Wish me luck.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Comfort Zones
I've been thinking about comfort zones. Everyone has them, whether it be the place they live, their current circle of friends, job, relationship, etc. It is said that change is good, and that stepping out of these zones is an honorable action. But what happens when you don't choose to step out of the zone, your whole platform of comfort slides out from beneath your feet, leaving you dangling in the air for a few seconds, then falling in search of somewhere to plant your heels? Change is supposedly good, as we grow and become more mature, experienced human beings from it. This doesn't mean it isn't scary as hell. Courage is not the absence of fear, only the knowledge of something greater. It's hard to be courageous when it seems like everything you knew and loved is falling apart, fading, or moving to uncomfortable distances. How do you optimistically find a new zone, when you had no choice about being pushed out of the last one? Thomas Edison once said, "We shall have no better conditions in the future if we are satisfied with all those which we have at present". I'm not perfectly content with the present, but it's pretty damn good. Or was. Thomas Edison was a pretty smart man though, and I hope that maybe he's right.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Pizza
Why does a round pizza come in a square box? I could understand if maybe most of the company's pizzas were square. If that was the case, why the hell would they start making round ones? What is the appeal of different shaped pizza? Its not like it will taste any different if the slices are triangular or rectangular. Maybe certain shapes are easier to hold for certain people. You would think that round pizza is easier to make, because the dough you just have to glob into the right sized balls. Or maybe round pizza boxes are really difficult to make. In which case why is the box square? Wait! If there was a round pizza box, wouldn't calling it a "box" be contradictory? It would just be a cardboard cylinder. Maybe the boxes were originally for a different product or food, and when pizza came around people just tossed it into the same box, although if that was the case why is it called a pizza box if it started out holding something else? Why don't pizza boxes have handles? They aren't difficult to hold or anything, but its a thought. They could have little notches where they would easily stack and hold together in the case of large orders and out of convenience. Hmm. This is just one of the things that go on between my ears
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Katy Perry Rapes The Radio
Yesterday 
as I was driving away from my house, escaping the responsibilities of household chores, I switched my truck radio on. Being a mild Katy Perry fan, I chose to stop scanning when I heard her newest single "California Girls". It's a song about chicks in daisy dukes and bikinis, beaches, tiny dogs, melting popsicles, the usual perks of summer. When the song ended and commercials for State Farm resumed I switched the station to a preset. "California Girls" was playing again. Excited, I blasted it and sang along. Same vicious cycle as before. As the song came to an end once more, another preset station was chosen. "I Kissed a Girl" blared in my eardrums. "Wow," I thought. "This bitch is raping the radio". I listened to her gush about cherry chapstick and touchable female skin. Having had my fill, I switched to the fourth preset on my radio when her duet with Timbaland, "If We Ever Meet Again" floated into my ear canals and made my smallest ear bones vibrate. My fifth and sixth radio preset buttons fail to work properly. Katy Perry, you've officially raped the radio.
as I was driving away from my house, escaping the responsibilities of household chores, I switched my truck radio on. Being a mild Katy Perry fan, I chose to stop scanning when I heard her newest single "California Girls". It's a song about chicks in daisy dukes and bikinis, beaches, tiny dogs, melting popsicles, the usual perks of summer. When the song ended and commercials for State Farm resumed I switched the station to a preset. "California Girls" was playing again. Excited, I blasted it and sang along. Same vicious cycle as before. As the song came to an end once more, another preset station was chosen. "I Kissed a Girl" blared in my eardrums. "Wow," I thought. "This bitch is raping the radio". I listened to her gush about cherry chapstick and touchable female skin. Having had my fill, I switched to the fourth preset on my radio when her duet with Timbaland, "If We Ever Meet Again" floated into my ear canals and made my smallest ear bones vibrate. My fifth and sixth radio preset buttons fail to work properly. Katy Perry, you've officially raped the radio.
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