Wouldn’t It Be Nice…..

….. if pop/soda/carbonated beverages could stand on their own as drinkable beverages when they lose their fizz?

 

Also, am I the only one who has trouble swallowing those drinks because of the amount of fizz??  I actually have to let them sit open for a while or shake them if I don’t want to feel like I’m just gulping air!

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The Inconstancy of the Mind

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That is the Question

Zest
Main Entry:  zest

1 : a piece of the peel of a citrus fruit (as an orange or lemon) used as flavoring
2 : an enjoyably exciting quality : piquancy <adds zest to the performance>
3 : keen enjoyment : relish , gusto <has a zest for living>

Zest for life: founded in appreciation through curiosity and questioning?

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rollercoasted through my life.  As I’ve mentioned to a few people, I live in stages.

First Generation Blues

Today I received a message from one of my uncles.  He wished me a Merry Christmas in Serbian, as it’s Serbian Orthodox Christmas today.  That got me thinking.

The Answer, My Friend…..

is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind.  ♪

One Hundred One

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What Do I Want To Be?

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you know, I could do it too:
hair parted, to the side

long, just long enough

maybe highlighted

face airbrushed with

foundation

concealer

powder

eyebrows darkened

plucked into perfect arches

eyes lined with dark brown

not black, that’s whorish

lashes lengthened, strengthened, darkened

teeth bleached, no gaps

posture perfect

like a ballerina

simple, elegant, regal in composure

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and sometimes I want to be

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but I think of everything I’d miss

if I couldn’t touch animals because they’re dirty

if I couldn’t watch bugs because they’re creepy

if I couldn’t skip in fields because I’m an adult

if I couldn’t sing aloud because I’m mature

if I couldn’t play in the sand because I’m not a child

if I couldn’t run in the sun because I’d get tanlines

if I couldn’t be who I am because it’s not who I should be

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so I draw on my own picture a pirate’s eyepatch

a curly mustache

and a tasteful goatee

because it’s more fun

than striving for perfection

and I want people to know

that they can’t threaten me with shoulds

that people who love me

can also have fun around me

because I love when people smile

and I love even more when it’s because of me

that’s the me I want to be

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Copyright L.M. 2008.

What Needs To Be Said

I don’t really know why I’m writing this.  I kinda feel like I need to get something off my chest, but I don’t know what yet, so I’m hoping that by starting a post, I’ll figure it out as I go along.

Lately, it seems everyone has been stressed around me….. not because of me (hopefully!), but I don’t think I’ve talked to one person recently who hasn’t been stressed.  Come to think of it, I don’t even remember the last time I talked to someone free of stress.  What about you?  Think about it; who do you know that is stress-free?  Has it become such a constant in society that people don’t know how to live without it?  What would you do if you had no stress in your life?  Would you be happy?  Or would you be anxious as to why you weren’t stressed about something — “Wow, I have absolutely nothing to worry about right now….. I wonder what I’m forgetting?”  Is stress an essential element to life?  Of course, in the days of survival of the fittest and hunting for food, that would have made sense.  But now, when life is fairly regimented and secure for some, shouldn’t there be less worry?  Is it a case of the more you have, the more you have to lose?  That can work for both superficial materialistic possessions as well as deeper, more meaningful aspects of our lives.  Are we so insecure that we must worry in order to feel like we have control over our lives?  I mean, worrying is essentially creating stress over something that has no immediate solution (otherwise, we would just act in a way to overcome the problem)….. so do we feel like we must control every single situation in our lives to have good foundations and therefore be happy?  Some might….. I don’t think I do though, which is why I think some people think I’ve got a good handle on life.  Maybe they’re right, I don’t know.  All I know is that if I want something, I’m going to work at getting it; if something doesn’t work right, I’m going to try to fix it; if someone needs help, I’m going to help them; if I need help, I’m going to ask for it; and if things seem to be going wrong, I’m not appreciating enough everything that is going right.

I’m not sure if I’ve satisfied what I need to say yet, so I might be back in the near future to continue this.

Day 5.7

  Back again.  Well, I’ve got new tan lines!  In fact, my back is downright burnt.  It would probably be crispy if I hadn’t put cream on it.

  We went to Caddy’s tonight with our family friends to celebrate my mom’s birthday January 19th….. they won’t be here to celebrate on the day as their daughter is due to have her baby boy very soon, and they’ll be going back the day before me.  Caddy’s is a beachfront restaurant in the truest sense of the term.  It has indoor seating, then it has what appears to be an added-on section with wooden plank floors and picnic tables, and then it opens up onto the beach, where they have more tables.  It’s a very fun place to go to see the sunset, because it’s busy-busy, and everyone is there to see the sun set and enjoy good food — so everyone is very happy.  When the sun’s last sliver disappears into the water, everyone claps and cheers.  It often has live music — I’m not sure if just on weekends, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s every night.  4 of the 5 of us had grouper sandwiches again — deeeeeelish!  We enjoyed some extra entertainment as a few customers had brought their youngsters (couple month-olds and up), and we watched as some danced/jumped around to the music, and others worked on just standing up, and their interaction was very amusing.  One little girl, probably 6 months old (though I’m terrible at guessing when they’re that small), was very interested in her surroundings.  Another little girl went up to her and tried to get her to dance, which of course failed as she was too young….. then she’d jump around her and kiss her and try to hug her…… but the younger one would have none of it.  The older girl would go in for a kiss on her cheek, and she’d intercept with her arm and push her away — it was hilarious.  You just know she’s gonna be fighting off kissers for years 😉

  Another funny thing happened when I went for a walk along the ocean while waiting for our food.  I was just meandering as I do, looking at the shells, the water, around….. and I hear, “Excuse me miss!”  I turn around and the man who is talking to me appears to be somewhat drunk (must be anyway!) and pauses, then comes up with this precious one: “….. are you an angel?” 😆 Oh man, I think. I hadn’t stopped walking luckily, so I carried on and just laughed and said no. He walked with me though and continued, “Are you sure? I was sure of it — I mean, the hair, [something I couldn’t hear, then another pause]….. I was certain you were an angel!” I laughed again, awkward as heck, said, “No, no, far from it, ha ha…..” and kept walking. He wished me a good day then continued talking but I couldn’t really hear at that point, and I was just grateful he didn’t follow me to my parents’ table….. now that would’ve been awkward. Ahh alcohol. Making people cheesy since…… well, forever I guess! haha 😛

I think it’s time for today’s daily list:

• FISHIES!!!!  Everywhere.  Seriously, I’d look a couple feet away from me and they’d be there.  There were soooooooo many of them.  Probably about 15-20 cms long, so not big or anything, but they were plentiful!  Oh and there were little guys too…… more silvery.  Maybe minnows  😀
• BIG FISHIES JUMPING!!!!  I guess it’s spawning season, because I saw a group of large fish moving parallel to the shore, jumping straight out the water…… bringing those pictures of grizzly bears and spawning salmon to mind.  These fish were probably….. oh geez I’m terrible at estimating…….. over a foot long I’d say, but as to how much over?  Not sure.  Anyway, they were big, you could cook them if you caught them.  haha.  That’s a good way to judge size in a fish — “Can you cook ’em?  Yeah?  Okay, big enough!”
• 2 crab legs…… little guys
• a few shells I’ve always called screwdrivers (actually called augers — yay, I can finally be accurate thanks to this new wonderful resource: http://www.shellmuseum.org/sanibel_shells_pictures6.html  !!), including 1 cerith I think.
• a couple sunray venus halves, small ones
• Maddy!  (and a group of tourists staring at him — I told them his name and how he’s the resident heron, and the teenage (?) girl in the group seemed really happy to find that out….. I saw them later on my walk back and she smiled enthusiastically at me  haha 😀 )
• 1 busy beach
• 1 gorgeous (and burnnnnnnnnning) sun

  Lately, my dad has been curious as to how cashews are harvested.  Actually, I was too when he brought it up the other day.  He just came in to ask me to look it up, and I thought I’d pass on the knowledge to anyone else curious:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cashew  It grows on a cashew tree, beneath the “cashew apple”, which, itself, is harvested in some places for a variety of uses.  The outer urushiol (new word, yay!), which is an oil found in the nut shell of the cashew fruit, causes skin reactions similar to poison ivy.  Then the seed inside is processed, and that’s the nut we eventually enjoy.  A lot of effort for one little nut!  Kinda makes you appreciate them a bit more, eh?    🙂

  There’s a lot of election talk around here, which is always interesting.  I’m actually not being sarcastic either, even though people who know me know I’m not a big fan of politics.  It’s just interesting to hear the propaganda, hear the propaganda’s analysis, hear about all the policies the candidates find important, hear the serious talks about how one word can mean the difference between a win and a loss…….. it’s such an intricate system, and can get so silly in my humble honest opinion.  So many people get paid to talk and analyze and all their prattle could be essentially useless and embarrassing if they chose the wrong person to win.  Then, of course, they say how some new factor had come in and whoops, turned the tables, not, of course, that the whole predicting thing was a farce to begin with……… oops, am I being too cynical again?  Sorry.  What I meant to focus on was how interesting it is to compare elections with lotteries.  People buy in to one set of ideas/numbers, try to reason how those will be the best to win it all, and then as the numbers are called out, people start readjusting their bids, and start the excuses as to why they might not win……. and then at the end, they either win or lose.  I’m not even sure that I agree with the main concept of Presidents and Prime Ministers.  Can any one person really represent a country?  Look at B ush. [I write his name like that to try and avoid having all those silly ads on the side referring to politics — that’s right, I really don’t like politics!!]  The guy gets picked apart left, right, and centre, but he has a tough job, let’s not forget.  I mean, the guy’s an ignoramus, but still.  You have to be somewhat dull to be able to put up with all the chiding and nitpicking, and is that kind of person really what a country needs?  ….. someone to go to the most important nations on Earth, and hold intellectual discussions?  Just for a laugh, I’m going to include some Bushisms…… not to attack him (this is just supposed to be a musing on politics in general), but just for fun.  Besides, he gets attacked enough anyway!  This is courtesy of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bushisms  :

“We need an energy bill that encourages consumption.”

“Rarely is the question asked, is our children learning?”

“I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully.”

“Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.”

“Make no mistake about it, I understand how tough it is, sir. I talk to families who die.”

“I think that the vice president is a person reflecting a half-glass-full mentality.”

“You’re working hard to put food on your family.”

“Too many good doctors are getting out of the business. Too many OB/GYNs aren’t able to practice their love with women all across the country.”

“Families are where our nation finds hope, where wings take dream.”

“This is still a dangerous world. It’s a world of madmen and uncertainty and potential mential losses.”

“You teach a child to read, and he or her will be able to pass a literacy test.”

“Childrens do learn.”

“There’s an old saying in Tennessee—I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee—that says, fool me once, shame on—shame on you. Fool me—you can’t get fooled again.”

Beautifully put, Georgie.  As a linguist, I appreciate all his many attempted contributions to the English dictionary.  I wonder, how many speech-writers have stormed off the job during his term in office?  I can just picture, some person, sitting, listening intently, and then — a Bushism!  Head falls into hands, answers mother’s phone call insisting that no, it *wasn’t* actually written that way, and goes back to office to try once more to write a fail-proof speech.  I joke, but it really is quite scary to put all a country’s eggs in one person’s basket, n’est-ce pas?

  Forgive me if I seem a little unintelligible, or unintelligent for that matter, in this post.  I’ve had a lot of sun today, and my brain is slowly taking stock of the fried brain cells and adjusting my output to reflect said loss.  Wwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

As a testiment to the last statement, I actually had initially typed the similar variant: Wwwwwwwoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!  but for some reason, this was deemed ‘not as accurate’ and was subsequently replaced.  Do you notice I start to use a more eloquent manner of speech when I’m tired?  This is due to repeated conditioning; often when I’m up late, I’m writing essays.  Therefore, when I’m tired, my body thinks there’s an essay to be written.  I’m frankly surprised I haven’t started speaking French or Spanish yet.  Oh!  I did say something in French up there, too!  Haha, wow.  Time to go, methinks.  Have a good night everyone  🙂

Beautiful Blue, Beautiful You

In high school, I came up with a shade of blue.

It was beautiful — a combination of sky blue, light mauve, baby blue.

Every day as I’d walk through the hallways, I’d look up through the windows as I passed to see if today was a Beautiful Blue day, and, if it was, it was a good day.  It became difficult in winter to keep my spirits up, as the cold depresses me sometimes, but if there was a patch where I saw Beautiful Blue skies, it would lift me up and give me strength.

I love nature like others love religion.  In fact, to a certain degree, I equate the two.  This is really very personal but why not…… in my egotistical mind, I would see the colour showing up as a sign, a spiritual offering of a hand to help me stand again — or, if I was already standing, would help lift me to happiness — or, if I was already happy, would help lift me to elation.  Natural beauty is something that never replicates; each instance really is a moment in time to treasure.  You will never have that exact opportunity again to feel its presence, its power, your part in it all.  All you can hope for, if you shun that moment, is another chance.  It is likely for this reason that I have become a fervent advocate of spontaneity; part of carpe diem requires the ability to forgo plans and live for the moment as it presents itself.  Part of beauty is unpredictability.

Beautiful Blue might look different to others.  As much as I describe it, I will never know if anyone else sees the exact shade I do — not that I believe myself to be the only one capable, but when you take into account differences of perception, differences of colour receptor cones in the eyes, differences perhaps of data transmission between cones and the brain?…… but this Beautiful Blue, to me, is nothing less than hope itself, embodied in a shade of pure beauty.

    

A couple years after I’d begun this tradition of sky-searching at school and elsewhere, I was listening to the radio and heard the DJ mention a new song was going to be played by an artist whose songs I knew and liked.  The artist: Holly McNarland.  The title: Beautiful Blue.  This initially stunned me.  Then, my senses came around and I realized: to others, they were simply two words strung together, and could be used to describe a multitude of things…… I suppose.  This is what she has to say about her song:

“The big song [on the cd], ‘Beautiful Blue,’ came a week before the
last time we went into the studio,” she says. “That was shortly
after September 11.  It’s not about that, but the whole vibe, the
whole doomsday thing, was pretty apparent, and I was just
hanging out with my son.  In the middle of all of this tragedy,
I would wake up and have this perfect little angel by my side.”¹

It’s a beautiful song; I loved it immediately, and not simply for the connection I had with it.   One day I’d like to perform it live — in a way, to realize another dream of mine, as I’ve already recently been given the opportunity to realize one of my life dreams of being part of a band.  I don’t want to suggest it, as it’s not particularly in the style we perform, but I figure that the opportunity will somehow present itself at some point in my life — just like the song did initially — if it is meant to be interpreted by my (in comparison) highly unqualified voice.  This is not a case for carpe diem, after all; this is a chance to see just where my Beautiful Blue will guide me next.

      

So, my dear readers, after I expose my vulnerable nature to all your mysteriously faceless souls, I ask you: what is your Beautiful Blue?

      

      

If you would like to comment on this, you need to click on the title to load the post anew, where you will be given the option to leave a comment if you so desire (and I hope you do!).

¹ (http://umusic.ca/hollymcnarland/)