Poetry

Here are my inadequate attempts at poetry. Though I never mind comments, I am not looking for a way to improve them, I just felt like posting:

No Words

No words are scratched upon the page,

yet so much is said.

No future has happened in our lives,

yet so much has taken place.

(That's all I got - it's not finished, I suppose.)

String of Life

The string dangles,

listless in front of my face.

I paw at it, 

I cannot grasp it.

It taunts me, 

laughs at my frustration.

My face reddens with fury.

I almost have it,

no, it slips gently through my fingers.

It appears delicate, silky and smooth,

but as my skin brushes it,

it turns jagged and rough.

To see it dangle allows hope,

but to reach for it creates confusion.

I need to let go,

want to let go,

but can't let go.

I realize I must let go.

I walk away,

I feel defeated.

I glance back as it dangles,

far enough to be content but close enough to desire.

This was written last May - I believe my focus was on life.

Let's Not be Doormats

Okay, a struggle I have had lately concerns how I act towards others, where my sympathies lie. As a Christian and a human being, I would like to do the right thing and treat people well. The problem is, where is the line? Where does that boundary run that separates being kind and caring and being a doormat to the world? I often am not sure myself.

From the Christian angle of it, it is very hard. Because many believe we basically are doormats. We are suppose to turn our cheeks and ignore injustice, right? WRONG! God doesn't expect us to allow injustice to occur while we sit back and smile foolishly. He doesn't think it is bad to feel upset when something bad happens. The question isn't should we be angry or not. The question is how are we channeling that anger. That is a question I am still unsure of the correct way to do it.

From any angle, it is a matter of judgement of whether to speak up or whether to let things go. We won't always make the right decisions but we can try. Sometimes it is best to ask for help with a situation so that we can prevent it from getting ugly too.

Anywhoo, my babble is trying to get at that we should be kind, caring and sympathetic -- but never doormats!

Songs in the head

As I walk around, the folk song "This Land was made for you and me" (or whatever the proper title is) playing in my head, I wonder how a song I haven't heard in a VERY long time could be stuck in my thoughts.

Have you ever noticed how that happens? It's never your favorite song that floats in one's head, it's always something strange and out of place. At one point, I had the song about accentuating the positive in my mind. You know, the one that goes "You have to ac-cent-tuate the positive, E-lim-inate the negative, latch on, to the affirmative, don't mess with Mr. in between . . ." I haven't heard the song since elementary school.

One must wonder. They say we only use approximately 10% of our brains at a time, and maybe as things are purged into the back, stored in the 90% we aren't actively using, that maybe things from our past sneak their way back up front.

What is even more annoying is when a song that annoys you gets stuck in there. For example, WGN is crazy and has brought back the horrible teen soap, 90210 and they run the commercial like every 5 minutes. For several days I couldn't get it out of my mind.

How do you fix something like that? It seems like no matter how hard I try, I can't get the songs I love stuck in there. All well, I guess I'll have to turn the radio up and blast out the songs in my head.

I know this is not exactly an intellectual topic but hey, who cares, right? That's life!

Starbucks to take over the world

Government officials recently discovered a plot developed by Starbucks to take control of the world, one cappuccino at a time. Many worry this situation could escalate far beyond the McDonald's franchise scare back in the 80's and 90's, and could cause the country to go into mocha-latte alert.

"Every street corner is slowly being consumed by a Starbucks establishment. They're even popping up in places like Utah, where only 3 percent of the population even drinks coffee," said an anonymous secret agent. "Our studies prove there are more Starbucks in the world than people in Australia and they use a secret lingo that causes confusion to outsiders. Once people are sucked in, though, it becomes a fluent language for them."

An ongoing confidential study exposed three lethal drugs placed inside of the beverages: grandetoxins, frappaventis, and espressocinos. The combination of the these chemicals causes dangerous reactions; such as, wearing Birkenstocks in February, carrying Prada manbags, buying ten different colors of Ralph Lauren polo shirts, driving BMWs, desiring to spend astronomical amounts for coffee and speaking Starbucklish, forgetting the subject-verb-object structure of the English language.

"My 19 year old daughter, who's been recently infected, can't even communicate with her mother or myself anymore - she's forgotten how!" said Tom Larry, a Chicago citizen. "The other day I asked her how her day was and she said 'Venti-nonfat-mocha-with no froth.' What does that even mean?"

Loretta Moon, a Starbucks consumer currently living in a halfway house, said she didn't even like the coffee. It upset her acid reflux disease. But she walked in every day and "mechanically ordered" a Nonfat Grande Cinnamon Dolce Latte with Sugar Free Syrup and just a dab of whipped cream. She admitted to being putty in the master scheme of things.

Current reports prove over the last five years the Starbucks corporation successfully seized control of Paris and Tokyo, as well as New York's Upper East Side of Manhattan, Hollywood California, and Chicago's Northshore, where undercover investigations witnessed a couple who tried to sell their ten -year-old twin boys for Starbucks cappuccinos when they did not have any money on them.

No city in the world is safe from the corporation, though efforts in the Detroit and Washington D.C. areas appear to have weakened and almost abandoned as a lost cause. Strategies to prevent further takeovers and to help those already affected are currently under investigation.

Names of individuals have been changed to protect them from harm.

This article was written in fun for a Grad school assignment in Satire and Humor.

Other Blog

For those who may want to explore a deeper, more personal me, check out my other blog: www.wedthump.blogspot.com

Pets

As most of my friends will be able to tell you, I adore animals. Sometimes, I think I like animals more than people . . . just kidding . . .  well sort of kidding.

I have this really adorable (monster) cat, Tigger. Now, always remember that when you name an animal, they will generally live up to that name. Granted, Tigger was a Tigger before he moved into my Chicago apartment (which is now his, he just lets me stay there and pay his rent) but he sure lives up to the title.

A great example would be this morning. That sweet, lovable orange and white tabby cat of mine turned into this psychotic blurr that ran through my apartment full speed. I will admit he has talent, he does this without damaging anything -- except for me on occasion. 

He leaps on the bed, off the bed, through the living room, flies from the bedroom door onto the bed, and makes a final leap landing directly on my back. Luckily he does not weigh nearly as much as my cats in Michigan (of course, he wouldn't be able to pounce like that if he did) but when a medium sized cat jumps on your back with his back claws out, lets just say it didn't tickle.

He continues his rampage a little longer and then finally curls up on my arm and starts licking me with that sandpaper tongue of his. I pulled my arm out and shoved it under the pillow to make him stop. He then starts licking my elbow. I finally shove him towards the end of the bed. After a few more attempts to clean me (that is what cats do when they lick right? I swear he's thinking, "I have to get that awful human smell off you!"), he finally curled up and went to sleep.

Finally, I can get a little more sleep . . .  what is that? Argh! My alarm clock!

Don't get me wrong, I adore Tigger. He's great entertainment - in the daylight hours. He's spunky, playful, and affectionate. But like a child, he doesn't know when enough is enough. But also like a child, he curls up next to me, gives me those pity eyes, and I just can't stay mad at him for long.

Well, you may think I am crazy for blogging about my kitty cat but remember my warning, this blog is "Like a box of chocolates . . . you never know what you're gonna get!" 

Until next time . . . 

Finally joining the 21st Century

So, I have finally decided to join the rest of the world in blogging. Though I am a writer, I avoided blogging for a few reasons -- one, I am somewhat technologically challenged and thought it was harder then it is and two, I have a stubborn gene that makes me want to resist doing what everyone else is doing. Surprisingly, I have over-powered my stubborn gene on this issue because I've come to believe it can be a great tool in life - especially for writer's like me.

So remember Forest Gump's words of wisdom, "Life is like a box of chocolates . . . you never know what you're gonna get." Well, that kind of sums up my blog. Enjoy! I hope that my thoughts will make you laugh or cry or feel something . . . even if it's just the impulse to call me a dork! : )