As I wander through life, I've come to accept the fact that I have memory issues. It's not an easy road to follow, as I can't remember the directions to wherever I'm heading. And, in the chance instant that I actually arrive in the appropriate location, I can't remember why I am supposed to be there. I've blamed it on using too much space to store mostly useless information, like every phone number I've had, and every phone number I've ever dialed. Or thought about dialing. Or saw someone else dialing.
But what was I saying?
Oh, my memory!
Just this week I realized the true cause. Growing up, I ingested enormous amounts of cleaners. By the bowlful, and with a spoon. I'm not exactly sure when my desire for this concoction first reared its ugly head. I can remember being five years old, at the earliest. A glorious cleaning agent, also a degreaser, a known fertilizer that has caused algae blooms if allowed to flow into bodies of water... it was one of my favorite treats.
And I have to admit, it's because I fed it to my dog that this all came into the light. You see, I've also been feeding it to my kids. And the other day, during breakfast, some of this glorious substance spilled onto the floor. Before it could be cleaned up, my dog was into it. And he went from puppy-happy, to crack-happy. And with every bite, it was another burst of energy, like he was on a high from the tiniest amount. My dog became a whirlwind of uncontrollable impulses, crashing several moments later into a deep sleep. It was like a super drug, causing me to ask myself, "What am I doing?".
So, beware. I have a feeling trisodium phosphate is everywhere. It's in your local hardware stores. It's in your grocery stores, for sure. And it may already be in your cupboards. In the meantime, I'm going to think twice before buying Kix.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I've Never Eaten A Snail
The European Union was created in 1993 as a means to compete with the US for power and the rights to act superior. It hasn't been easy to mesh different ideas and 23 languages, but all countries involved seem to thoroughly enjoy gathering together, with earpieces to sort out the cacophony, and form new ways to confuse American tourists while they travel abroad.
That being said, only a few decades ago, this may not have been possible. (Thank God, Al Gore invented the idea.) As an example, it was only in 1945 that the enmity between Germany and France ended and the Franco-German Partnership was created. This truly seemed to be an impossibility, and some days may not logically make sense, especially with the never ending battle for who has the superior cars. The French argue their Peugeot reigns supreme, while the Germans stand by their Volkswagen. It's an argument that, like many American Chevy vs. Ford disagreements, has been known to ruin the best of relationships.
And yet, now France and Germany stand strong, side by side. They have overcome their Euroscepticism, and are now known in the EU as the "twin engine that could".
So, why the history lesson? In an amazing turn of events, I have now come to realize I have absolutely no clue who I am. I am but a random person in this world, whose origins are questionable. I'm a foreigner in my own body.
True, I could be feeling this way because I have been suffering from a migraine. They tend to make my mind cloudy. It could also be the smoke in the air, here in Oregon. There's always much speculation as to what we're actually breathing in, as the locals burn their choice, er... incense?
But largely it's due to the fact that I have grown up identifying myself as mostly Dutch/German. I have found my pride in my roots, and also blamed my heritage on my prideful ways (and to quote my Grandma, "Big bones."). Maybe I should have been more aware, and realized that not only is my pride evident, but also arrogance. If I could have seen this in myself, but a bit more clearly, maybe I would have foretold the events that happened this week. This week I found out that, as much as I am German, I am also French. Oui, it's true. So, today I make an internal Franco-German Partnership and pledge to continue life as I have known it. I will try to judge less, and though I will never get over the terror of working with an irrational blind Frenchman, I will live more peaceably with the French. And above all, to avoid more conflict, I will continue driving a Jeep.
That being said, only a few decades ago, this may not have been possible. (Thank God, Al Gore invented the idea.) As an example, it was only in 1945 that the enmity between Germany and France ended and the Franco-German Partnership was created. This truly seemed to be an impossibility, and some days may not logically make sense, especially with the never ending battle for who has the superior cars. The French argue their Peugeot reigns supreme, while the Germans stand by their Volkswagen. It's an argument that, like many American Chevy vs. Ford disagreements, has been known to ruin the best of relationships.
And yet, now France and Germany stand strong, side by side. They have overcome their Euroscepticism, and are now known in the EU as the "twin engine that could".
So, why the history lesson? In an amazing turn of events, I have now come to realize I have absolutely no clue who I am. I am but a random person in this world, whose origins are questionable. I'm a foreigner in my own body.
True, I could be feeling this way because I have been suffering from a migraine. They tend to make my mind cloudy. It could also be the smoke in the air, here in Oregon. There's always much speculation as to what we're actually breathing in, as the locals burn their choice, er... incense?
But largely it's due to the fact that I have grown up identifying myself as mostly Dutch/German. I have found my pride in my roots, and also blamed my heritage on my prideful ways (and to quote my Grandma, "Big bones."). Maybe I should have been more aware, and realized that not only is my pride evident, but also arrogance. If I could have seen this in myself, but a bit more clearly, maybe I would have foretold the events that happened this week. This week I found out that, as much as I am German, I am also French. Oui, it's true. So, today I make an internal Franco-German Partnership and pledge to continue life as I have known it. I will try to judge less, and though I will never get over the terror of working with an irrational blind Frenchman, I will live more peaceably with the French. And above all, to avoid more conflict, I will continue driving a Jeep.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
The Root of All Evil
Until recently, I didn't realize that I had surrendered all rights to my brain. It's kind of like I'm in a horror movie, and I didn't realize I was living it.
As a child, I watched the movie "Invaders from Mars" (the 1986 edition). If you haven't seen it, these giant aliens that take over the world by drilling holes in the back of people's necks. They all became drone-like, and the way you could know they'd been transformed was by the trade-mark Band-aid on their necks. Needless to say, it was highly inappropriate for me to sneak and watch. I suffered endless nightmares from the movie, the only more disturbing images to ever enter my mind's-eye being "Cocoon". [If I ever found a cocoon on the back of my neck, it may be the death of me, especially if ants are involved.]
But back to my decreasing mental capacity.
Lately, when asked a question, I have only had one answer. It's like it was drilled into my brain, and there's only one answer that can come out. It's not that I don't possess any other knowledge, it's that I cannot overcome. There was a seed planted, it's taken root and all that now grows is this lone thought.
It can be a question regarding the weather, an address, a scientific fact, someones height. And, as I find my brain is relying heavily on this lone idea, I now find that my phone is infected as well.
Be warned, it's viral, highly contagious and may soon take over the world. "What is it?" you ask.
As the movie suggested on it's ads, there's no place on Earth to hide.
I can only give you only the same answer I give everyone regarding everything else;
GOOGLE.
As a child, I watched the movie "Invaders from Mars" (the 1986 edition). If you haven't seen it, these giant aliens that take over the world by drilling holes in the back of people's necks. They all became drone-like, and the way you could know they'd been transformed was by the trade-mark Band-aid on their necks. Needless to say, it was highly inappropriate for me to sneak and watch. I suffered endless nightmares from the movie, the only more disturbing images to ever enter my mind's-eye being "Cocoon". [If I ever found a cocoon on the back of my neck, it may be the death of me, especially if ants are involved.]
But back to my decreasing mental capacity.
Lately, when asked a question, I have only had one answer. It's like it was drilled into my brain, and there's only one answer that can come out. It's not that I don't possess any other knowledge, it's that I cannot overcome. There was a seed planted, it's taken root and all that now grows is this lone thought.
It can be a question regarding the weather, an address, a scientific fact, someones height. And, as I find my brain is relying heavily on this lone idea, I now find that my phone is infected as well.
Be warned, it's viral, highly contagious and may soon take over the world. "What is it?" you ask.
As the movie suggested on it's ads, there's no place on Earth to hide.
I can only give you only the same answer I give everyone regarding everything else;
GOOGLE.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Physics and Physical Labor
In a continued effort to enlighten the masses and help people attune themselves to their daily surroundings (and the insanity of my own), I bring you a thought that's weighed heavily on my head. The law cannot be broken.
Every day I try to live my life abiding by the law. We all do. Yet, lately I have desired more earnestly than ever to break the law. It's driven me to the brink of insanity, yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot physically accomplish the task. I have a theory about why this happens (but theories typically don't hold a chance standing up to laws). But it all comes back to the law. And the law is set. It cannot be broken.
Blast these laws of Thermodynamics!
The Second Law says that entropy always increases in a closed system. One of the things engineers generally do is to define the boundaries of a system such that it is closed. That is, they combine the open system and the outside source of energy into a larger, closed, system.
Have I lost you? I'm sorry. Okay, basically, it all has to do with heat, or energy... but it's also been proven to apply to many other aspects of life. Think of it this way, a wall will not spontaneously build itself, but will fall apart. Energy has to be used to create a wall, but it cannot spontaneously create itself. It can, however come crashing down... everything goes from order to disorder. At best, you can break even and nothing will change, but it will never improve.
Another example is a car rolling along a road that has kinetic energy can do work (by carrying or colliding with something, for example); as friction slows it down and its energy is distributed to its surroundings as heat, it loses this ability. The amount of entropy is often thought of as the amount of disorder in a system.
So, in the system that is my home, as I mop my floors, I earnestly desire to break the law. The law is set though, no matter how much energy I expend, eventually it will all be in vain... dirtied and ruined... and I will mop again, all the while contemplating how thermodynamics has ruined my life.
(and if this is all completely incorrect, well...it's not surprising)
Every day I try to live my life abiding by the law. We all do. Yet, lately I have desired more earnestly than ever to break the law. It's driven me to the brink of insanity, yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot physically accomplish the task. I have a theory about why this happens (but theories typically don't hold a chance standing up to laws). But it all comes back to the law. And the law is set. It cannot be broken.
Blast these laws of Thermodynamics!
The Second Law says that entropy always increases in a closed system. One of the things engineers generally do is to define the boundaries of a system such that it is closed. That is, they combine the open system and the outside source of energy into a larger, closed, system.
Have I lost you? I'm sorry. Okay, basically, it all has to do with heat, or energy... but it's also been proven to apply to many other aspects of life. Think of it this way, a wall will not spontaneously build itself, but will fall apart. Energy has to be used to create a wall, but it cannot spontaneously create itself. It can, however come crashing down... everything goes from order to disorder. At best, you can break even and nothing will change, but it will never improve.
Another example is a car rolling along a road that has kinetic energy can do work (by carrying or colliding with something, for example); as friction slows it down and its energy is distributed to its surroundings as heat, it loses this ability. The amount of entropy is often thought of as the amount of disorder in a system.
So, in the system that is my home, as I mop my floors, I earnestly desire to break the law. The law is set though, no matter how much energy I expend, eventually it will all be in vain... dirtied and ruined... and I will mop again, all the while contemplating how thermodynamics has ruined my life.
(and if this is all completely incorrect, well...it's not surprising)
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Oh, how times change...
I recently came to realize the great deprivation going on in our culture, mostly affecting our children. I don't know what came to bring about the changes, most likely it was someone in Washington with some grand idea... but I came to the understanding that the youth of our nation are no longer living the many life-enhancing experiences of what most of us older generations knew in our childhood.
My childhood, to me, was rather ordinary. And seeing how my friends were raised, we all shared the same experiences. Life was full of fun, random excursions. But there were also circumstances necessitating that I should have to earn some wages, even early on in life. And that led to complete and utter emotional devastation brought upon by rejection. I can think of days and weeks on end of nearly trying to sell my soul to the next stranger, trying to make a single dollar, only to be sent away... the shame. It still resonates heavily in my soul. And yet I know, that without these experiences, I wouldn't have the spirit to persist despite adversity. I wouldn't know how to overcome that dreaded shame of refusal and become stronger as a person of worth.
So, as I deal with all that I have learned and apply it daily to my life I have so many questions... though I do understand some concerns, I wonder why people no longer force their children to do door-to-door sales of candies and other hardly-useful items? Why must it be encouraged that they sell only to friends and family? Why must we spare them the shame?... or rather, why wasn't I spared?
My childhood, to me, was rather ordinary. And seeing how my friends were raised, we all shared the same experiences. Life was full of fun, random excursions. But there were also circumstances necessitating that I should have to earn some wages, even early on in life. And that led to complete and utter emotional devastation brought upon by rejection. I can think of days and weeks on end of nearly trying to sell my soul to the next stranger, trying to make a single dollar, only to be sent away... the shame. It still resonates heavily in my soul. And yet I know, that without these experiences, I wouldn't have the spirit to persist despite adversity. I wouldn't know how to overcome that dreaded shame of refusal and become stronger as a person of worth.
So, as I deal with all that I have learned and apply it daily to my life I have so many questions... though I do understand some concerns, I wonder why people no longer force their children to do door-to-door sales of candies and other hardly-useful items? Why must it be encouraged that they sell only to friends and family? Why must we spare them the shame?... or rather, why wasn't I spared?
Friday, October 17, 2008
It looks like my mama was right...
Mom said I should turn this into a blog, or that it sounded like it was becoming one... I guess it is.
The way I was raised, I grew up in a very specific religion. I've been grounded in my ways, not only taking on these beliefs because I was taught to, but because they were my own. Truly ingrainded in me, as I have lived my 26 years in this lifestyle. There are days when I don't know if I could exist outside of the realm of my beliefs, or could seperate myself from my own tenets.
When I met Todd, I knew we may eventually have difficulties blending our ideas. He was raised on the complete opposite side of the belief spectrum as myself. I can look at things honestly and know that, while he is a man of peace, his morals are based around peaceful thoughts as well. And I can look at how I was raised, and know that, I was taught intolerence. Where Todd was raised to embrace, I was taught to repel. When he was taught to show compassion, I was to show wrath. If he was told to feed the hungry, I was told to scare them away, using force if necessary. I guess it's a testament to how we can all appear as any part we want to be in this play called life. After all, no one would ever guess my father had instilled in me such things, but it his to him I attribute all of this.
And so now I face a cross-roads in life. Todd and I been married for eight years without ever having a problem sharing our lives. We've both changed, and changed eachother. I've seen him be less tolerant at times, and feel shame knowing I've helped him become this way. I also know that, I have softened. I also am able to be thankful that our sons have wandered away from what I stand for and are following their father's ideals.
Seeing them look at me, asking me how I could deny others help, I have to ask myself why I would. And I wait for someone else to help, knowing that no one else will.
I am conflicted. I want to set the right example, but I have no idea how to cross that line. And I'm afraid in doing so, I may alienate myself from some of my family.
I'm afraid of, in embracing this new lifestyle, I'm condemning my own life. How do I make up for a lifetime of living on the wrong side of the line?
It truly seems I have come to a point in my life where I will have to decide which life to follow.
As I look out the window toward the neighbors, I have to ask myself, "As a dog lover, could you truly ever care for this creature? Could you really actually care for...a cat??"
The way I was raised, I grew up in a very specific religion. I've been grounded in my ways, not only taking on these beliefs because I was taught to, but because they were my own. Truly ingrainded in me, as I have lived my 26 years in this lifestyle. There are days when I don't know if I could exist outside of the realm of my beliefs, or could seperate myself from my own tenets.
When I met Todd, I knew we may eventually have difficulties blending our ideas. He was raised on the complete opposite side of the belief spectrum as myself. I can look at things honestly and know that, while he is a man of peace, his morals are based around peaceful thoughts as well. And I can look at how I was raised, and know that, I was taught intolerence. Where Todd was raised to embrace, I was taught to repel. When he was taught to show compassion, I was to show wrath. If he was told to feed the hungry, I was told to scare them away, using force if necessary. I guess it's a testament to how we can all appear as any part we want to be in this play called life. After all, no one would ever guess my father had instilled in me such things, but it his to him I attribute all of this.
And so now I face a cross-roads in life. Todd and I been married for eight years without ever having a problem sharing our lives. We've both changed, and changed eachother. I've seen him be less tolerant at times, and feel shame knowing I've helped him become this way. I also know that, I have softened. I also am able to be thankful that our sons have wandered away from what I stand for and are following their father's ideals.
Seeing them look at me, asking me how I could deny others help, I have to ask myself why I would. And I wait for someone else to help, knowing that no one else will.
I am conflicted. I want to set the right example, but I have no idea how to cross that line. And I'm afraid in doing so, I may alienate myself from some of my family.
I'm afraid of, in embracing this new lifestyle, I'm condemning my own life. How do I make up for a lifetime of living on the wrong side of the line?
It truly seems I have come to a point in my life where I will have to decide which life to follow.
As I look out the window toward the neighbors, I have to ask myself, "As a dog lover, could you truly ever care for this creature? Could you really actually care for...a cat??"
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Actions speak louder than words....
In an effort to live life the way I'm supposed to, I'm going to attempt to become more transparent. I live my life as a front. I know I try to appear peaceable with others, accepting even, but I know the truth. I truly have far too many enemies. Life has become taxing trying to hold a grudge against the many that I find offensive. And I know there have to be many in the world that feel the same about me, but I find it sad that I have to live repulsed by so many.
So I began to think of what appropriate actions should be taken. I can't fix others, and it's not fair to keep everyone that's disagreeable away. Especially when we all have equal rights to this world. I can only work at fixing me. Sounds like I've been watching Dr. Phil or something, but I haven't. It's just the truth as I see it.
And as much as thinking can pain me, I continued to think. To think about the way I'm supposed to treat my enemies. I was reading in my Bible and in Romans 12 it says "If your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." And I decided it was time to take this verse literally. Not just trying to fake a smile, or keep my reaction low-key (like a grimace), but truly show care. To actually take a physical substance and give...to my enemies...to feed them.
And so, looking to my fridge (or at least the top of it), I grabbed a bottle and went outdoors. In the cool October morning, I shared my patio and its comforts and gave nourishment... with the knowledge that it would become like coals not only on my enemies heads, but in their stomachs as well.
Yes, I overcame my myrmecaphobia enough to share some Terro with those nasty, little... er...well, you can see what I'm talking about in this picture.
So I began to think of what appropriate actions should be taken. I can't fix others, and it's not fair to keep everyone that's disagreeable away. Especially when we all have equal rights to this world. I can only work at fixing me. Sounds like I've been watching Dr. Phil or something, but I haven't. It's just the truth as I see it.
And as much as thinking can pain me, I continued to think. To think about the way I'm supposed to treat my enemies. I was reading in my Bible and in Romans 12 it says "If your enemy is hungry, feed him, if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." And I decided it was time to take this verse literally. Not just trying to fake a smile, or keep my reaction low-key (like a grimace), but truly show care. To actually take a physical substance and give...to my enemies...to feed them.
And so, looking to my fridge (or at least the top of it), I grabbed a bottle and went outdoors. In the cool October morning, I shared my patio and its comforts and gave nourishment... with the knowledge that it would become like coals not only on my enemies heads, but in their stomachs as well.
Yes, I overcame my myrmecaphobia enough to share some Terro with those nasty, little... er...well, you can see what I'm talking about in this picture.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Are Bizarre Things Happening Because October is Coming?
I'm starting to think that fate {definition-an event (or a course of events) that will inevitably happen in the future} truly rules the course of my actions. Perhaps it's my surroundings contributing daily to these happenings. Possibly, I'm genetically inclined to such behavior (though past has proven this isn't probably the case). But bizarre happenings are occurring.
I live in Eugene, OR. [yes, that is weird, but a topic for another day]
I'm starting to think that, after immersing myself in the culture that is Eugene, it may be impossible to resist conforming to a certain extent. Granted, never in this lifetime will you find me wearing patchouli. I wont be caught with my toes enjoying soggy surroundings in Birkenstocks & wool socks. I will not be found driving a Volkswagen van (though I'm still fond of the old-school square-back VW's). I wont be attending either the Country Fair or the Eugene Celebration.
I'm talking about something that is more offensive than I care to admit. I've spent years swearing I wouldn't. I fought teachers in my freshman year of high school, and the battle has never ended. I will not be me. I will not cross that line. I will not become one of them.
Last night I found myself, yet again compromising... conforming. The waffle iron has won. I donned my Nikes, slipped into the cool darkness, turned up my iPod and started running.
It's true. And this isn't the first. I'm starting to feel like I need a daily fix, to feel the light breeze in my face. I need the adrenaline rush that comes from dodging cars that almost hit me.
After all, I live in "Track Town USA".
I may never help carry that title with grace (please don't laugh when I run by, stumbling!). I may not even carry it long-term, or hold my own in any marathons. But living here, in the spirit of all the title embodies, I can't help but partake. And I can't help but think that maybe all of us should join in, bringing our own unique style to the fun.
So, if our eyes meet in the dim light, our feet moving faster than a walk, I promise to not laugh. After all, I'll be the one wearing the bright red cape.
I live in Eugene, OR. [yes, that is weird, but a topic for another day]
I'm starting to think that, after immersing myself in the culture that is Eugene, it may be impossible to resist conforming to a certain extent. Granted, never in this lifetime will you find me wearing patchouli. I wont be caught with my toes enjoying soggy surroundings in Birkenstocks & wool socks. I will not be found driving a Volkswagen van (though I'm still fond of the old-school square-back VW's). I wont be attending either the Country Fair or the Eugene Celebration.
I'm talking about something that is more offensive than I care to admit. I've spent years swearing I wouldn't. I fought teachers in my freshman year of high school, and the battle has never ended. I will not be me. I will not cross that line. I will not become one of them.
Last night I found myself, yet again compromising... conforming. The waffle iron has won. I donned my Nikes, slipped into the cool darkness, turned up my iPod and started running.
It's true. And this isn't the first. I'm starting to feel like I need a daily fix, to feel the light breeze in my face. I need the adrenaline rush that comes from dodging cars that almost hit me.
After all, I live in "Track Town USA".
I may never help carry that title with grace (please don't laugh when I run by, stumbling!). I may not even carry it long-term, or hold my own in any marathons. But living here, in the spirit of all the title embodies, I can't help but partake. And I can't help but think that maybe all of us should join in, bringing our own unique style to the fun.
So, if our eyes meet in the dim light, our feet moving faster than a walk, I promise to not laugh. After all, I'll be the one wearing the bright red cape.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
To my former friend... now my enemy.
You used to thrill me with your coming. I'd wait in anticpation for the moment of your arrival. I'd try to tune my ears, listening intently to discern the engine in your vehicle from the others passing by. I'd restlessly wait by the window. Your very coming, if but for a passing moment was always enough for me. It was a gift, as you never arrived with your hands empty.
But now I wait and watch. I watch and I wait. You never call. My emails are never responded to. I've seen you drive past and wondered why you wont stop here. I wait to greet you warmly, but the cold rumble of your truck is all I now know, as it quickly flies past me.
I can't help but think that you're doing this intentionally, trying to avoid me. Trying to ruin the days leading up to my birthday, to ruin the gift of the day. Trying to appear casual as if we never met. As if you never cared enought to bring delight to my doorstep in the past.
So I wait. And hope. And can't help but feel that there is no hope, but that it's lost. All that we had has been lost. You may never return, and I may never ask you to again.
UPS, didn't you know? Didn't you know there are others more reliable? FedEx. DHL. Goodness, even the United States Postal System.
*note to my missing shoes- "Please come home. My feet long to wear you."
But now I wait and watch. I watch and I wait. You never call. My emails are never responded to. I've seen you drive past and wondered why you wont stop here. I wait to greet you warmly, but the cold rumble of your truck is all I now know, as it quickly flies past me.
I can't help but think that you're doing this intentionally, trying to avoid me. Trying to ruin the days leading up to my birthday, to ruin the gift of the day. Trying to appear casual as if we never met. As if you never cared enought to bring delight to my doorstep in the past.
So I wait. And hope. And can't help but feel that there is no hope, but that it's lost. All that we had has been lost. You may never return, and I may never ask you to again.
UPS, didn't you know? Didn't you know there are others more reliable? FedEx. DHL. Goodness, even the United States Postal System.
*note to my missing shoes- "Please come home. My feet long to wear you."
Friday, September 19, 2008
Today....
Every day brings with it a new task for cleaning. I don't deny that this is the majority of my work in the day. My first goal is always to love my boys and keep them alive. A good day would be finished without requiring staples, band-aids or ?? The next goal, which is also a little hard to attain, is that of a somewhat sanitary existence. I'm not saying I want my house sterile, the kind of home where it looks like no one has ever walked into. I'd just like to survive walking across the living room or using the bathroom without getting toothpaste all over my hands...
Each day truly has its own challenges.
Milk in the carpet. That was yesterday.
Marker on the walls was two days ago (thank God for "goof-off").
Random bug parts... hourly.
Broken toilets. Clogged sinks. Stained clothes. Muddy floors. Spills in the fridge. Spills under the fridge. Broken glass. More broken glass. Still more broken glass. Broken glass from a lava lamp.
But today I have a new dilemma I had never faced. My chocolate-brown microfiber chair, my sole piece of furniture that I like has been tainted. It received an extended visit from a school of goldfish. Granted, I think I could handle having the kind that actually swim. These were the kind that have oil and flour and more oil. And they left their marks....their little silhouettes...on my chair. So, today I ponder how to clean the chair, or if the fish and chocolate should remain paired. *sigh*
Each day truly has its own challenges.
Milk in the carpet. That was yesterday.
Marker on the walls was two days ago (thank God for "goof-off").
Random bug parts... hourly.
Broken toilets. Clogged sinks. Stained clothes. Muddy floors. Spills in the fridge. Spills under the fridge. Broken glass. More broken glass. Still more broken glass. Broken glass from a lava lamp.
But today I have a new dilemma I had never faced. My chocolate-brown microfiber chair, my sole piece of furniture that I like has been tainted. It received an extended visit from a school of goldfish. Granted, I think I could handle having the kind that actually swim. These were the kind that have oil and flour and more oil. And they left their marks....their little silhouettes...on my chair. So, today I ponder how to clean the chair, or if the fish and chocolate should remain paired. *sigh*
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Repulsed By Another Hobo...(don't miss the fine-print)
Maybe it hasn't been stated before, or maybe it's been said too much. And living here in Eugene, where all life is valuable (unless it's a pre-born human), I will probably find myself in trouble for writing this. I truly find hobo's repulsive. I loathe them. Despise them. Hate them even. What brings this about? Lately, I've had several close encounters with them. They always seem to be shirking about in some random location, waiting to prey on some unsuspecting person. I feel that they are completely useless in this world.
Harsh? Hardly! Have you seen the wounds they've inflicted? Have you heard of the nightmares they've induced? And, as their presence is only increasing, people are starting to feel less secure both in and outside of their homes. I know I am. And it's justifiable for having such a fear. Today, as I was in my own back yard, enjoying the cooler weather with my boys, we were charged at by a single hobo. Here is where trouble may arise as I state the truth of what happened next; I hit it with a shovel. I felt we were threatened and there was justification in my actions. As we screamed in terror, I knew there was nothing else I could do but weild my shovel and deliver a deadly blow.
I can't say I mourn the loss of this nameless hobo. I doubt many will. There is no marker on the grave. There was no fine farewell or eulogy. Not a single tear shed. Goodbye, nameless hobo. May spider eternity treat you well.
(for more info on hobo spiders, please don't ask me as I may come at you with a shovel out of pure fear that in speaking the word 'hobo' another vicious spider may arise from the grave and attack)
Harsh? Hardly! Have you seen the wounds they've inflicted? Have you heard of the nightmares they've induced? And, as their presence is only increasing, people are starting to feel less secure both in and outside of their homes. I know I am. And it's justifiable for having such a fear. Today, as I was in my own back yard, enjoying the cooler weather with my boys, we were charged at by a single hobo. Here is where trouble may arise as I state the truth of what happened next; I hit it with a shovel. I felt we were threatened and there was justification in my actions. As we screamed in terror, I knew there was nothing else I could do but weild my shovel and deliver a deadly blow.
I can't say I mourn the loss of this nameless hobo. I doubt many will. There is no marker on the grave. There was no fine farewell or eulogy. Not a single tear shed. Goodbye, nameless hobo. May spider eternity treat you well.
(for more info on hobo spiders, please don't ask me as I may come at you with a shovel out of pure fear that in speaking the word 'hobo' another vicious spider may arise from the grave and attack)
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Breakfast Renewed??
Every morning I try to sit down and read the paper, while drinking my coffee and eating a little breakfast. It sounds grown up, which I find depressing. After today, I may be combining some of these actions into a whole new breakfast routine.
What am I talking about? The new toaster capable of burning the news, images, whatever... straight onto your toast. Truly, this is the greatest breakfast invention since breakfast. Don't want to look up the weather? Your toaster will tell you. Mad at your spouse but don't want to talk about it? Your toaster will tell them for you! Birthday greetings, anniversaries, to-do lists... all on 
toast.
toast. I actually think this is as 'green' as breakfast can get. Truly, how much less paper would we use? Unfortunately, this product isn't in mass-production yet, though I will count the days until.
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