Friday, December 28, 2012

I have never met a slurry with worse manners; the sequel

 I thought I had met the most misbehaved slurry the other day. Today I realized that it really does have the worst manners imaginable.

 A dark, claustrophobic coffee shop was crowded. A line filled the place. It was a line of innocent people waiting for their caffeine. Upon seeing the extensive amount of people filling the place, my Hippie Aunt and I headed for the other side of the stores lining the road. It was a perfectly normal day, and the following story goes to show that a normal day can turn disastrous in a moment.

 As I strolled down the sidewalk, bouncing a fist-sized ball and passing absent-mindlessly the millions of shop windows and advertisements, I heard a noise. It wasn't just a noise, it was a crashing. Something was falling. Instinctively, I turned to see. All the while, thoughts rushed through my head, "What did I break? Do we have to take Aunt Jill to the hospital?". I turned just in time to see a sheet of ice plummeting from an awning onto my unsuspecting Aunt. The sheet shattered over her red hair like glass. It wasn't over yet. The ice was followed up .06 seconds later by a smattering of snow. Again, the slush was totally not socially acceptable. It could have thought "Oh, you look cold already, I'll just land a bit to the right." or "It will be most beneficial to the shoppers for me to land just seconds later.".

  I saw my Aunt double over, but she stood back up with her glasses in hand, laughing. Fortunately, minimal damage was done.
Yes, people were staring. I even saw one shopper's jaw drop. We successfully escaped that incident, and the shoppers returned to their shopping, exchanging murmurs and whispers among themselves. Though she did lose a hairpin.... as I said, minimal damage.

Now, for those of you who don't know my Aunt, she always elaborated that she wanted to die in a "freak accident". That's my aunt. All aversions to normality. She came up here from Alabama, expecting some nice white snow. Instead she almost experienced death by ice sheet.


Wednesday, December 26, 2012

I have never met a slurry with worse manners.

I braved the elements today, with all the mentality of avoiding procrastination. "Today," I told myself "I'll shovel the driveway without even taking time to double-layer socks. Then I'm sure to avoid procrastination." Only a minute later I was dressed and shoveling the thick clumps of the indignant, icy stuff off the pavement. I silently congratulated myself for not procrastinating on this arduous task. About fifteen minutes into the job, I was bent over my shovel, hauling the maximum amount of snow possible, back straining, eyes tearing from the blistering wind, mind focused, when everything changed.

 I heard a low rumbling, and looked up to see my soaking demise. Red, flashing, and screaming in a fury best described as "huge", a snow plow came around the corner. I was happier when my view of it was obstructed by the hill in the yard. Just in the split second that I looked up to see the brutal machine, I saw flying towards me a monumental pile of ice, slush and other unidentified gray matter from the road. In a splendid trajectory towards me, this pile had no plans of stopping or saying "I'll be considerate and land just to your right.". I have never met a slurry with worse manners. So I was to be found, continuing my task of snow removal from the driveway covered (from the fur-lined top of my hunter green parka to the tips of my black boots) in the previously described pile of snow, ice, and gray matter.

 Upon speculating the evidence of my task completed, a clear driveway, I dropped the shovel by the door. I strode into the gloomy garage undefeated. So you see, even though I was indignant towards that particularly rude spray of snow, the snow plow itself was no match for me.

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Date a Girl Who Reads

There is story that I nearly fell in love with. Though I see that the world tends to bring dating and relationships into everything. If the story wasn't about "dating", I'd like it a lot more. Never the less; read on.


Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Stack o' Literature

Just a picture of books that I own and have to read.

I'm making my New Year's resolution right now.
"Read through this list of books"

Books on my e-reader that I don't have pictured here are:
Green Tea, Joseph Sheridan
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Washington Irving
The Blithedale Romance, Nathaniel Hawthorne
Emma, Jane Austin
Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austin
Story of My Life, Helen Keller



Thoughts on these titles?

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Have a Very Geeky Christmas.....

Doctor Who is my favorite. "Party like it's 1705, 2015, 1991, 1942, 1233, 302BC, 1998."



( I hope Hank sees this xD )

Saturday, December 1, 2012

How Not to Comfort Someone

 It hurts to see how inept the human race is at comforting a fellow human. We're the same species, after all. So, read this, and get an idea as to how not to comfort someone. Pay much attention to the "NOT" part of this. If you try to comfort someone in these ways, it's worse than just leaving them be.

 Number 1: Try to change the subject while they're telling you about a traumatic/painful situation. When they're disclosing, it's their turn to talk about what they NEED to talk about, not what you WANT to talk about. It doesn't seem as though this needs said, but it does. Changing the subject will not create an easier situation for anyone.
"I just miss her so much, I -"
"So, did you see that Bears game?"

Number 2: Tell them to move on. Seriously. A person doesn't simply "recover" from a traumatic/painful situation. If it is a terrible thing, especially loss, they likely will think about it every day of their life. They will not move on because someone alluded to the fact that they should. They need to COPE with the grief, not move on.
"I can't believe it's been a year since [thusandsuch] happened."
"Only that long? Time to move on."

Number 3: Upon hearing of the event, message them on Facebook, email, etc. Use your phone to CALL them, if you must, but for the sake of sanity, no Facebook. These messages are impersonal and seemingly not thoughtful. Unless you have no vocal cords to utter the words, CALL them. Or, in select cases, visit them. Unless it is a death in the family, and the family wants to be alone to grieve together. Oh, and when you make this phone call, be prepared to... are you ready for this? *LISTEN* TO THEM! They might need to unload some thoughts, and hey, you have EARS with which to listen! It is amazing how consoling an open ear can be. Which brings me to my next point.
[instant message from ---]
"hey man. heard wut happned. srry. need anything u can lemme know dude."

Number 4: Well, you'll have to say something, right? WRONG. You can just let them talk and unload their thoughts, without saying a word! If you're honestly prepared to listen, you're the most useful to that person. Avoid asking questions pertaining to the event. They'll tell you the information they want you to hear, asking questions will likely lead to sometime that will trample their feelings or make them feel as though you do not feel the gravity of the event.

Number 5: Tell them you know how they feel. You don't. It doesn't matter if you've experienced the same situation, you haven't. Every situation is unique. Nothing gives you permission to tell them how great you are comforting someone.
"My grandfather passed away. His heart failed."
"Oh yeah, mine did too. And I know exactly how you feel. This one guy tried to relate to me but he totally didn't get it."

In summary, be there for them, but don't prod them or tell them how to cope. Healing will come with God and time, but you can't control either of those.


Go comfort someone.