Holiday Blues

Took a vacation from the computer this Holiday season, to focus more of my time on family. I was disappointed with the outcome. Much of my family found it especially hard to be in the Holiday spirit this year. Finances and Fatigue seem to have turned them as blue as the pacific. Unfortunately, it seems to be catching for as the New Year approaches; I am in a little of a slump. The clouds are closing in. The misty atmosphere is humid and hopelessly depressing. I've made sugar cookies, fudge, Penuche, and numerous other holiday sweets. Unfortunately, none of this has helpped me except made my New Years Resolution be extra exercise and weight loss. No worries though it can't be this impossible for much longer. I hope I will be in the mood to write more in the next few days, when the holiday blues has passed for the New Year celebration. Hope all is well in cyberspace. Wish me luck!

Just Think About What THEY put in the Candy Cane stripes...

A little conspiracy Christmas spirit for those of you out there who don't believe in coincidence, random acts of kindness or selflessness. For the honest few who check all labels, believe that the elves are spies and watch the skies for UFOs...that might be Santa. For anyone that has ever thought they would call the police and report Santa as a burglar. For the naughty and the ones with coal in their stockings...this is for you....you Scrooges!

A Recipe for Christmas Spirit

Ingredients:
A Few good and close friends and family
1 warm fire
A plate of Christmas cookies
2 or 3 Christmas CDs (a mix of old and new: Some Bing Crosby, a little Rosemary Clooney, some Nat King Cole)
1 6ft tall Bushy Noble tree
3 cups. Memories
1 cup painted walnut shells, strung popcorn and cranberries
2 cups candy canes
Pinch of ribbons
Dash of handmade children gifts
Enough Lights in a variety of colors to cover
1 Angel or Star for the topping

Directions: Put Family and Friends in front of fire, add music. Mix in the Christmas tree, set out the memories to reach room temperature. Together put on Lights, walnut shells, popcorn and cranberries. Sprinkle on memories, candy canes, handmades and top with Angel or Star. Finally switch on lights, and turn off the lamp. Bring family and friends to the tree. Grab sugar cookies mix with Friends and Families and enjoy the Tree. Laugh, Remember, Listen and Watch.

The Mystery of Music

Some of my favorite bands have very odd names 'Canned Haggis,' 'Tears for Beers,' or 'Celticburn.'
While some bands...not my favorites of lesser repute...are oddities of the profane and ridiculous : A Box of Fish with Tartar Sauce
A Boy Named Gomer
Above Average Weight Band
A Cat Born In An Oven Isn't a Cake
Adickdid
Adult Children of Heterosexuals
Afghanistan Banana Stand
Agnes Morehead
Albino Toilet Boys
Cookie Mould and the Smegmettes
The Couch Slugs
Cortizone 5
Crappy the Clown and the Punch Drunk Monkies
Craven Morehead

Let us not forget the Famous Limp Bizkit...who has an album called Chocolate Starfish and Hotdog Flavored Water. Really where do these things come from. Some bands provide us with a nutshell explaining their name choice, others are a cute twist, oxymoron, attention getter or simply a mystery. Some are down right disgusting and offensive...others belong in the black lagoon.
Chris Harwood the author of 'Life as I know it blog'...introduced a very interesting game I'd like to share with you...a little parody on band name choices:
1) Go to wikipedia.org and click "Random article." That's your band name.
2) Click "Random article" again. That is the album name.
3) Click "Random article" 15 more times. Those are the names of the songs on that album.

Here was my Choice
Band name:MITES
Band Album:Vous êtes toujours là
Songs:
1. Conservation of energy
2. Walthamstow Central station
3. Alfred Pink
4. Moloko Temo
5. List of asteroids
6. Crash Crew
7. Sister Angelica
8. The Kennedys of Castleross
9. Ogbomosho
10. Painkiller
11. Iles
12. Halle, Saxony-Anhalt

To gift or regift? That is the Question

Through out the year we walk to and fro along crowded sidewalks, with hardly enough space to breathe. People focusing on nothing more than the next cup of coffee, work, or their finances. In today's world when credit cards are a dime a dozen. Receiving enough fake plastic in the mail to decorate a Christmas tree. Temptations creeping into the mind like nuts in a peanut cluster. Why is it so strange that gifts have become so important? Whether to buy name brand...how much to spend, are you spending enough, is that too cheap? Curiously questions arise of what to do with those totally needless terrible gifts you receive from Aunt Laudie or Uncle Claud. Should one regift? Isn't regifting a form of free commerce and capitalism? Or is regifting an ungrateful extension of materialism. Affluenza symptom: regifting those gifts that just don't jive with your tastes. Rude? Or Enterprising? Look to the wisdom of your Elders: My Grandmother Juanita was an avid regifter. She literally regifted everything she was ever given. She only kept what she bought herself...but the trick was in her old age, was not regifting the same gift to the person who gave it to her. Now that was a mighty tough task when you are 83 and have 6 children, and numerous grand and great grand children with a slight bit of senility. I on the other hand often forget what I have for breakfast and have to write all birthdays and anniversaries on the calendar know the answer to that question is: No regifting. Yet all the papers, bows, ribbons, buttons and tissues of bright ruby and emerald....I reuse so that I can call my self a Green Elf....so that all our future generations my enjoy the Holidays.

Richie Rich? Investment in Entertainment or Stupidity on the Rocks?

Guinness World Records held a special ceremony to crown an original Trader Vic’s Mai Tai as the most expensive cocktail in the world. At $1480 per cocktail at the Merchant Hotel in Belfast in Northern Ireland you can sip this sweet confection. This Mai Tai is made from 17-year-old Wray and Nephew Rum used by trader Vic Bergeron to create the original Mai Tai over sixty years ago. Even though the 750ml bottle of rum looks plain but it costs £26,000 per bottle. A rare batch of the 17-year-old rum was recently acquired with one bottle being purchased by Merchant’s Bar. There are only three of the world’s most expensive cocktails have been made. Can you believe it? Honestly....the more money the less worry over what is done with it, but the more worry over making it? I wouldn't know, I don't even have enough for the toothpick afterward. Take a look, I dare you!
http://www.forbes.com/wineandfood/2007/04/05/cocktail-expensive-decadent-forbeslife-cx_pl_0406cocktail_slide.html
For me its impossible to imagine spending that much on a cocktail. Definitely not what I would do with that much money. Can anyone explain to me how you can rationalize spending more than 5 bucks on a cocktail? Maybe at a wedding, anniversary or birthday, but still more than 20 dollars is ridiculous.

Sleep is Overated

Last night, for once I felt tired. Can you imagine? Usually I am up for hours till 2 or 3 am...fighting the battle of inconsistent insominia. Yet, last night I thought ...lets try to go to sleep early. Explore the unknown realm of sleep. Allow the Sandman an easy trick this time. It was a terrible experience I woke up every hour on the hour. Exhausting...finally I turned the light on and opened Popular Science. I think the Sandman slipped a little bit of nightterror into to that dust. There is something traumatic about moving from sleeping to waking over and over all night long. Anxiety, frustration, sour stomach...accompany the experience. Its one long game of cloak and dagger where I am running from something I can't see. Have you ever been there?
I've made the decision, never to again. Tonight I am staying awake til at least 2, then I should sleep like a dream. I find it curious to think that this system should work. During this night; of on and off consciousness I didn't dream. I never fell into REM sleep to dream. Dreaming seems to be an important part of my ability to rest. Freud asserts dreams are wish-fulfillments, of those wishes that are the result of repressed or frustrated sexual desires. THANK GOD, such assertions are no longer accepted as true. Others like my dear Mother insist it isn't the dreams we should worry about, but the absence of dreams.We have all had a few wierd dreams. I had a dream about a chess board that recurred throughout my youth. After mastering a mediorce ability to play chess, I never experience this plague of chess again. Wierd? Any one out there want to guess what frustrated sexual desire that is? No...please don't! Foolishness ruled the roost in my childhood, I had nightmares by the dozen. Know anyone who doesn't dream? I think they are lying...everyone dreams in some fashion...Don't they?

Wanted

Someone to tell all my dreams to,
A friend to share all my fears,
Someone to drink hot cocoa on a cold night with,
A partner for walking on the beach,
A person to watch television with on the weekend,
Someone to finish the other half of a beer I can't,
and that special person who knows the difference between conversation and yakking.

Skills: Good listening skills, ability to smile and laugh.

Reason: Winter break and Loneliness

Please apply in person.

P.S. If there are readers out there or cyberspace friends...this is a personal entry

I Think Therefore I Am

Curious Article: I found in a Daily Daton News. Michelle Incanno a confessed Starbuckian is now boycotting Starbucks coffee due to what she calls an offensive quote printed on her cup of Java. Printed on the cup was: "Why in moments of crisis do we ask God for strength and help? As cognitive beings, why would we ask something that may well be a figment of our imaginations for guidance? Why not search inside ourselves for the power to overcome? After all, we are strong enough to cause most of the catastrophes we need to endure."

She now will not support Starbucks for their offensive practice and anti-religious rhetoric. Curiously I wonder why this is so offensive to her, in the world Religious people should be open to questions that make us doubt our own faith and ways of thinking. Religion in its most pure form lies in the middle of knowing, believing and doubt. It should spur the soul towards truth but never be stuck in the depths of stagnation. Religions teach one to enrich the mind, body and soul, not to isolate the self.Religion isn't conservative, but Creative. For me, Jesus teaches transformation and the urge to move forward affecting the world with compassion and love. I must admit I am a strong opinionated person, but even with God's help I can't overcome and endure a lot. Without him I feel I would loose my compassion and love, and I find It takes a very cognitive person to discover this and search after it. It takes time and work.

I think Starbuck's quotes are a way to open the mind to a whole new way of thinking, even if oppositional to my own. Keep it up Starbucks! God can take care of himself...and Believers don't need to be told to believe...we just do!

(http://www.daytondailynews.com/n/content/oh/story/news/local/2007/05/06/ddn050607cup.html)

Hope, Joy...Financial Woe?

Thank goodness, there are very few times in my life when I can look back and say my family forgot their holiday spirit. We are not the Lampoons or the Family down the block that use 2,000,000 Christmas lights to cover the house with holiday cheer. We are usually the family who waits to mid-December before putting up a string of lights down the fence, around the bay window and up the banister of the back steps. We are the family who must schedule the tree pick up because we are all running 3 separate ways, but we are also the family that always trims the tree together. Unfortunately this year, the house seems to be covered with a haze of the Scrooges and Ba humbugs. Its been a hard year financially for all of us, but it seems that is all anyone can think about. Sorrow becomes me, because I can't figure out a way to pull them from the depths of despair to hot cocoa and cookies. I've come out with an idea. That is truly revolutionary, well...at least in my family. The idea...to have a Christmas with no presents. I want to invite our entire family for a meal, coffee, a yule log and some festive music. At this Christmas party the only gift to be exchanged will be Christmas cards, kind words, hugs, kisses and smiles. I'm tired of feeling as though the world has been turned upside down because of gifts. What do you think Masters and Geniuses of Cyberspace? Do you find this idea invigorating and enlivening for the true Christmas season or do you find it a drag?

Tis The Season For Thought...

Have any of you watched the American sitcom Golden Girls? It's what the younger generation refers to as an old show. (Golden Girls: re-runs on daytime and late night TV) Tonight I watched an episode. It really made me think. The episode was about the girls going to a homeless center to look for a lottery ticket. Disturbingly, it really made me think about how much we ignore the needy. IN the USA we think of homelessness as a problem that is at the root of it a personal problem. Our answer is to prescribe 'pull yourself up by your boot straps' or occasional charity. Really, How dare we sleep in our warm houses every night and shrug off helping those who need it. The least we could to is give our time in volunteering or donating money for shelters, medicines, hosing, job training, life enrichment programs. The majority of homeless in the US is Mentally ill and Veterans of the armed forces. How dare we turn our backs on them? During this holiday season...give more than just one glance when you see a chance to help. No matter how small the act, everything counts. A warm blanket, a cup of coffee, a few cents or just a small smile, Give dignity and respect to all. You think your so different, that just in one minute you could be sharing their circumstances. We are all fellow servants on the journey of life.

Little Gems From Mistland

Winter Wonderland! Natural Symmetry? Perfected Asymmetry?
I love these very simple, yet very complex distinct snowflakes. Each one is different, like a fingerprint. How many fingers does Jack Frost have? This is my tribute to an amazing man. Mr. Wilson Bentley. On January 15, 1885, at the age of 19 years,Bentley took the world's first photomicrograph of a snow crystal.
Bentley had an irrevocable love of snow. He wrote:
"they came from that mysterious and then but little known cloud and mistland above, so seldom entered. How unique their place of origin and how strange it seemed, and indeed seems yet, that solid crystals in such immense quantities should form unsupported, up above, within the thin gas we call air, and come to us from on high. What worlds of mystery, truly how much of mystery enshrouded their origin and life history and manner and habits of growth. There seemed to be a delightful and gem-bestrewn realm of nature awaiting exploration and discovery and sure to richly reward the investigator. So I marveled not only at the exquisite loveliness of form and interior of these peerless gems from cloudland, but equally so at their almost universal habit of assuming the hexagonal form and dividing into six. What magic was there in the rule of six that made them conform so rigidly to its laws to divide into six and made these crystals from mistland conform so rigidly to its mandate?"
("Marvel of the Snow Gems" (1910), Technical World Magazine, 13, 24-27. By Wilson A. Bentley)
http://www.bentley.sciencebuff.org/BentleyWritings.htm
Let it Snow, Let it Snow!!

Let the Clover and the Harp Ring supreme!

Listen...............................................This is the sound of a deep breath after 3 take home finals. Only one more to go! History 313 at 11 am, Irish History. Let me just pass it! Let luck be on my side.....Let my essays ring passion and mightiness like these words of a forlorn patriot:
"Lend me your ears. So that I might do justice to the patriots and the politicians who gave Eire her freedom. Let the Irish blood split not be in vain, but for future generation to remember her cries. Long Live Eireann...Long Live Peace....Long Live the memories of Micheal Collins and Eammon DeValera"

Prince Charming...?

I've been tagged by a fellow blogger Mr. Stark Files to open up on a what I believe my ideal guy would be...but boy is that like opening a can of worms. I could say he would be tall dark and handsome...but truly that is much more my idea of an ideal chocolate bar. My ideal man really has no physical profile. I am much more the emotional, intellectual type. Appearance always has been and will be of very small consequence to me. I do appreciate someone who dresses for the occasion whatever it might be...and cares about himself. Really that's all that matters in the appearance section...although I use to have a thing for long hair...those adolescent days are behind me....When ever a friend asks me what my ideal guy is I always wonder if their is a recipe? I haven't met him yet, so I don't know. I am attracted to men who care about the actions they do and present to the world. That converse in more than four letter words, that care about what goes on in the world and look in depth at politics, life and the norm. Who questions absolute conformity, but enjoys the striaght and narrow. They must be critical, thoughtful, well read, and love to talk. He has to love to talk....and not about video games, but about what really counts: himself, the world...etc. I don't want a guy that views a relationship out of bed more important than in it. Mostly, I am looking for a man willing to spend his life as my partner, who will involve me in his with goals and dreams as well as care about mine. With a large helping of integrity, humor and true character and a dash of sarcasm.
So if your out there...Look me up!
p.s. Someone who doesn't mind an opinionated female would be helpful.

Honey, you belong in the kitchen with a baby on your hip....

I will not allow double standards, stereotypes, or backward thinking exist in my world any longer. I am sick and tired of being seen as an incapable female. To any man or woman out there who believes women should be mothers and daughters and allow the Patriarchy to rule the world...THE TIME WHEN THAT EXISTED IS OVER...GET OVER IT! I am a woman and I am just as capable as any man. I am sorry for who this might offend, but I can't stand the thought that women are only equal to men part of the time. My Mother and Sister just finished explaining to me how a woman could not be president due to the fact that they are "emotionally unstable" What are they saying? How can they say that? So I am less than a man and can not ever be president, a CEO, a international leader...I will always be subordinate and ruled over by men because women were made different and think with their hearts? ABSOLUTELY NOT! I will not be defined by the fact that I am able to bear children...that fact doesn't change my intelligence, level of stability, logical or critical thinking ability or incapacitate me as a human being. It drives me insane that in the world of today...under my roof...there are intelligent women who are okay with saying they deserve less pay...deserve less respect. HOW?.....I can't go on....I better stop now...PLEASE....Look around and Listen to reason, Women are Equal and not just on paper, I am not less stable than a man, I have the ability to lead, live and think at the same level as any man! Understand, I am not man bashing...I am simply stating that there are several successful woman that lead countries such as The president of Finland, Bhutto from Pakistan, Madeline Albright, Janet Reno, Margaret Thatcher....and many more...they served their countries as well as any man. Women and Men share the same abilities one is not the stronger sex. Men and Women are different nature vs. nurture...but the differences are not so big that it should serve to force a label of "emotionally unstable."

Celebrate!

Celebrate as often and as much as possible. Do so with love, joy, sadness in times that are tough, in times of excess. Do so with a heart overpowering with emotion or with a heart hardened by the daily grind. Many cultures around the world have parties where they give away everything they have such as the Potlatch of numerous Northeastern tribes and Aleutians and Inuit. You give until it hurts and then you give more. I wonder if any body in America would be willing to throw a birthday party and instead of getting gifts they give gifts to their mother, father, friends and family for coming. I say start a new custom...give a reverse party!

When did Thanksgiving become the New Christimas?

I think I missed the wagon, somewhere, when the Corporates who obviously control the world decided that Thanksgiving would be the new Christmas. I believe it should be against the law to play Christmas carols before the month of December. Call the Fire Investigator! Isn't it a fire hazard to start selling Christmas trees the November 19th. Christmas trees dry up, the poor lifeblood of the numerous evergreen pines is sucked dry each day until the 31st....I think I once heard a demonstration that a Christmas tree will burn to ashes in less than a minute...like an exploding roman candle. Picketers....should picket the injustice that is done to society...when holidays with true strength and character like Thanksgiving are shown aside for profit, consumerism and affluenza. Unfortunately, I got into a drawn out conversation with a college professor last week, he claimed that Thanksgiving is all about food. How sad it is when even the educators of the next generation forget the true meaning of Thanksgiving. I say donate the money you would spend on Thanksgiving to the homeless shelter, the food bank or UNICEF and eat peanut butter in jelly. Allow others to enjoy the riches of your spoil...give to those that have less. Find the true meaning of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is about giving thanks for the blessing we receive. We receive these blessings in the form of family, love, conversation and friendship. Thanksgiving is about overcoming the selfish, arrogance of daily life and coming together with those that mean the most to us. Never forget that Thanksgiving isn't about the food. Food is a benefit and a pleasure...but not what the holiday is about.
Today as my family sat scattered throughout our living room sipping Applejack after the meal...that is when true Thanksgiving started. We set around telling stories and listening. My Grandfather told stories of his time in the army....about home brewing applejack. Grandma spoke about family nights in front to the fire. Mom and Uncle Mark exchanged hopeless tales of childhood mischief. Dad gave a hilarious car story. Eventually the conversation switched to politics, presidential candidates and finally to how much we love getting together. To me this is the recipe for a real Thanksgiving. Happy Thanksgiving!

Please To Remember The Fifth of November

Do you know what holiday is celebrated in Britain on November 5th in England? Guy Fawkes Day. I have always heard of Guy Fawkes day, yet never knew what it meant. I figured it was likely a famous British man celebrated for some noble accomplishment. Interestingly however it might be said that Guy Fawkes is celebrated for his notoriety. I guess you might say it is an English Nationalist holiday reinforcing a national narrative of how good forces won over the devilish plot of a treasonist. Guy Fawkes planned to blow up the Parliament and James Stewart with barrels of gun powder. The Plot is commonly called the Gunpowder Plot. In 1605, Guy Fawkes was apprehended in vault below the house with barrels of gunpowder. Guy Fawkes and 3 other men were executed for their treason. The Holiday is celebrated by young teens running the streets with blackened faces begging for pennies "penny for a guy", chanting rhymes "please to remember the fifth of November, Guy Fawkes die, hit him in the eye" or "Remember, remember, the fifth of November Gunpowder treason and plot I see no reason why Gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot" and the burning of life size effigies of Guy Fawkes on large bonfires. Hmmm...very interesting...guess where I learned this? The New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes episode 'the gunpowder plot'...but don't worry, I researched it too....interesting. Can you believe it? Did you know it? Is there more too it? What about possible prejudice towards Catholics?

Inspiration in Waite

One day you wake up and realize this might be your last....that in the blink of an eye you could cease to exist...or that 5, 10, 15 years of your life can be taken away from you, all for the good of a cause...an ideology. Ideology is a righteous thing...when founded in natural virtue, human rights, life and liberty, but it is a bloody wicked force when in the hands of extremists. For Terry Waite his life became a symbol for a body of people ruled by ideology, religio-political extremist ideology. Mr. Waite's inspiration was not in his words truly, because words can be practiced, theaterized and subterfuged. His inspiration was in his person. He stood before us as a man surviving 5 years of death for many years of affirming life. In some ways Mr. Waite is the Responsible self that Niebuhr speaks of....He is a Relativiser and affirmer of life. I hope someday, I have the pleasure to say, I've lived up to my responsibility as a human being. That I have turned a philosophy of death into a philosophy of life.

Hostage to Negoiater

Yesterday, I had the honor to attend a private speech given by Terry Waite. This man was one of the most inspirational speakers I have ever had the pleasure and honor to hear.Mr. Waite was taken hostage in Beirut, held in solitary confinement for 4 years and 1 year in confinement with others. On returning to Beirut in 2003, Mr. Waite harbored no resentment to his captors. For a world traveler and International renowned figure and a survivor, he was surprisingly down to earth and kind. He laughed and smiled quite often. He is who every person should want to be. One of my fellow students asked Mr. Waite about his feelings towards his captors and If he would forgive if he could? Mr. Waite said "You must not loose hope, their is always hope, because bitterness is like a cancer that gets into the soul" Wow...I don't know what else to say...I have to let these thoughts stew for a while. Stay tuned for part two of "Inspiration in Waite"

Naughty Pleasures!

Who isn't a fan of BBC? I love Blue Planet...Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple...numerous shows of the yester year and a few new. I have a confession to make to all BBC humor fans: I found the Monty Python films very disturbing, and vowed never to watch anymore after the Search for the holy grail. I thought I had put to bed any love I had for BBC humor. I was wrong...I confess I have found a well of humor in FAWLTY TOWERS. I believe it was first aired in 1975 and only aired for a short time ,but its wickedly humorous and terribly naughty.The episodes are not the least bit Politically correct...but I nearly laughed myself into the hospital after the episode "The Wedding Party." John Cleese is spectacular...his legacy shall be remembered forever. It should be illegal to have as much trouble as poor Basil does! Fawlty Towers has redeemed BBC humor and given me the itch for a bit more.Now..I may not go in for Hotel Babylon or the Office, but Fawlty Towers will go down in the Softhearted handbook of hilarium. Any recommendations?

P.S Starbucks has their Gingerbread back! Having soft fresh slices of gingerbread at a coffee house should be illegal...there are probably 400 calories...in one slice. What I would do for a pill that would make those 400 calories disappear with no work...

What is Meme?

It is time to face the facts. I am without understanding. The Sweet Poetikat/Kathleen sent me a "meme," but do to my inability to pull away from school work and complexities of life never responded. I plead with the creator of the meme...to forgive my ignorance and all others who find this a useful tool to learn about bloggers especially Poetikat. I believe the point of this quaint blogging custom is to generate visitors to the blogs and awareness to the people who write them. So, if anyone is listening please explain the meaning to me...if you wish. Please don't find me arrogant, but I figure I will follow the example of friends and tell you a little about myself as well as tag a few other of my favorite bloggers to talk a little about themselves...letting them know I enjoy their blogs:

The Stark Files
Poetry
Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes
Parnell Corder Orchids
Never count on tomorrow
Motifs- Snap Shots of Life
Lights Out For Darker Skies


What was I doing 10 years ago?
I was 11 years, my mind was on pursuit of finding friends and loving life.

What was I doing 1 year ago?
Last year, I was working through my 3rd year of the University and working as a chair aerobics instructor at a Senior Citizen Community Home.

What was I doing yesterday?
Yesterday, I was revising, rewriting, crying and pulling my hair out over a Term paper on the the complexities of H.R. Niebuhr's Christology in The Responsible Self.

Five snacks I enjoy:
1. Cherries
2. Popcorn
3. Toostie Roll pops (Cherry and Orange)
4. Raw Almonds
5. Dark Chocolate

Five things I would do if I won 100 million dollars:
1. Help out my parents with University Debt accrued by me
2. Donate the rest to numerous Charities
3. Donate
4. Donate
5. Donate

Five locations I would like to run away to:
1. Ireland
2. Scotland
3. Germany
4. Czech Republic
5. Shangri La

Bad (weird) habits I have:
1. Talking way too much
2. Practicing Psychology with out a license
3. Collecting Stamps
4. Buying a bottle of Alcohol to try it once and regifting it
5. Cricticalism


Five things I like doing:
1. Conversing
2. Arguing
3. Listening to Old Radio Shows
4. Collecting and learning about Stamps
5. Cooking

Five tv shows I like:
1. Justice League
2. Mightor and Moby Dick
3. Jakers
4. Bones
3. House

Five things I hate doing:
1. Driving
2. Running
3. Wearing dress shoes
4. Paying bills
5. Working to make money


Five biggest joys of the moment:
1. Spontaneous Goodwill
2. Beauty in the face of a person
3. Smiles
4. Kind words
5. Spontaneous Conversation

I Refuse

I refuse to believe it! I am not going to even think it...its utterly impossible...I can't be getting sick. Time is terrible...two weeks till the end of the quarter. Two papers, 3 finals in three weeks...getting sick would be a catastrophe. I will not let it happen! Yet I feel the heaviness in my sinuses, the slight ache in the knees and back. My head feels a little light...no...no...no I will not succumb to the seduction of sickness. I will push on bring on the orange juice, grapefruit juice, water and soup, I will banish the thought of illness from my mind. Positive thinking, vitamins and aroma therapy. I will not let the season change throw me for a loop. Raise your glasses fizzing with Airborne tablets and raise them high,Toast with me those of us who will not bow down to the tyranny of Colds, Flu or Allergies. Drink to Healthiness! Drink to Strength of will! Drink for the right to Life! I will not let the nastiness of under the weather rain on my parade. I will finish this quarter even if it kills me!

Halloween Musings

A day of harvest moon,
Demons and devils crone,
Beliefs held dear by the celts,
Harshly Bishops dealt,
Spirits wandered,
Where once saints pondered,
Wax and flame flicker,
Turnip to pumpkin they did dicker,
As time passed,
Although harassed,
Deep magic persists,
Leaving things amiss,
For one night only,
Spirits taunt lively the lonely,
Seeking sanctuary from torment,
Live and weary waiting for ascent,
A Pageant of pagan tradition,
A time for the lose of volition,
Here and there,
Once thought rare,
Today's Halloween,
A holiday for teens and tweens,
A time of chocolates, sweets and treats,
In some cultures fireworks and sweetmeats,
Forever more,
It's trick or treats children roar,
Lost is ancient mystery,
Replaced foremost with entertaining history.

I Had No Idea!

Etymology lesson...Sort of. Do you know the historic origin of the word boycott? I had no idea. Last Thursday in my Irish History 313 class we read an article my a prominent Irish historian about the Land Question in Ireland. Out of the blue...or shall I say out of the green Isle of Erin the case of Boycott arose. Lord Boycott was the landlord of a piece of land in Ireland. Boycott expelled the tenant he rented this land to in order to plant large plots of Corn...the UK type'. The Irish tenants rose against Boycott...refusing to allow his villainy go unpunished. The Army and the Peelers had to be called in to save Boycott's crops and life. Yet, it was unsuccessful. Boycott took such losses that he gave up and returned to Britain. Therefore when we use the word boycott...praise Erin. We can also praise Erin for Oscar Wilde, Celtic Music, Shamrocks, beautiful mythology and St. Patrick's day...especially green beer!

Song A Day Keeps The Dull Away

For all those Starbuckians out there...have you heard of the new Starbucks partnership with itunes. Each day Starbucks gives its customers a free itunes song download. To me there is no better way to relax than sitting with a cup of coffee listening to wonderful music. Music not only heightens but intensifies the warm sensation coffee gives me. Music opens the mind to numerous avenues of exploration while coffee delights the senses. For me this is a refuge from stress, the rat race, life and work. In a world where we are expected to build an island for the self to reside in which were a totally individualistic and with out connection building material and success, the refuges of connection, exploration and relaxation are not only a comfort but necessary. The human existence is one of communion spiritual, emotional and sensual. To deny the existence of anything except the present is to deny humanity. After weeks of stress, fast pace and disturbance I crave refuge through word, connection and love. Although coffee and music only give comfort and exploration, they relax the body so that the mind can be released from the prison of life. Freeing the mind to search out refuge and procure friendship and connection. We are all interrelated whether we wish to be or not. Celebrate interrelation through engagement, responsiveness and openness....find refuge and pursue life with new meaning.

Be not a loner all the time for sometimes the spirit craves to be human---Anonymous.

From The Desert I Emerge Smarter...But Sleepier

I'm back. I returned from the desert. I am stronger after the laborious last few weeks. I feel worn out, beat up and run through the wringer, but I am alive. Praise all the powers in the universe, I live! I survived my 21st birthday, I can add a margarita to my belt....but I've got to be honest, I could only stomach about 1/8 of it. I....I'm just not much of a drinker. I have two new additions to my zoo. Chino and walnut, two quarter sized red eared slider turtles. Terribly illegal! That's why I bought them. Walking into a discount 99 cent store in East Pomona next door to West Covina I see a row of teeny tiny reptiles. I couldn't believe it, don't the owners know first of all that it is illegal to sale animals from an unlicensed provider and second, that it is illegal to sale red eared sliders under the size of a palm? I couldn't pass up the chance to purchase to of these tiny trooper of the illegal turtle sales. Chino is the smallest named after the town next to Pomona and Walnut after the town on the other side of Pomona...what original names. Well, I am practically insane and blank after two 2 and half hour midterm exams today. Both exams were essay...I wonder if you can sue professors for causing arthritis. Well...Goodnight cyberspace...I can barely keep my eyes open. Good wishes, Good thoughts, and Good works!

The Sunflower...Musings To The Self

What does the sunflower mean for Simon Wiesenthal? For me the image is very disturbing. How could God…allow a bright beautiful flower to grow on the grave of a despicable SS trooper? Why don’t these sunflowers wither and die like the rotting bodies they decorate? What an irony? In a way it could be seen by an observer as redeeming the evil that the body did in life, but how could such a disgusting debacle exist. The thought is sickening…Wiesenthal at least in the first part of the book suggests that the Sunflower seems to act as an axis mundi for these dead Nazi connecting them to life even in death, the butterflies swooping from grave to grave bringing messages to the dead that are transferred through the sunflower to the dead officer. Yet, how can it be right or good that such a connection exist, when as Wiesenthal believes that his people lie in mass graves that sunflowers will never grace. I am still unsure what the sunflower represents or what it means to Wiesenthal. All I can do so far is wonder if the old woman was right in claiming that God was on leave. How else could such an atrocity happen…even though it goes against everything I believe about God…

Shhhh....

Sit for 3 minutes in silence. Take deep breaths, close your eyes. Its harder than it sounds, but I believe if you do this 3 times a day you will be a better person for it. Do it I dare you! Silence is a very powerful thing. When used in the right contexts and situations the change it makes can be creative and transformative. In silence the workings of the mind become loud and unyielding. One must deal with them and conquer them or once again return to noise and chaos in order to tame the mind....Mother Teresa claims "See how nature-trees, flowers, grass-grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls." Without the soul we are beings lost into a void of nothingness, the abdication of thought is what causes most evil in the world. Others like Thomas Merton assert "solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say".Silence allows one to examine the deepest layers of being and gather up the dregs of goodness deep inside that we alienate with daily life....use at least 3 minutes of your day to recharge your being in concentrated thought, it will be a refuge for your soul.

Hurt, Lingers like...

Sometimes the people you love and care about the most do you the most harm. Spouses, Lovers, Friends, Family, with close contact comes propensity for aggravation, irritation, hurt and great joy. In times when my best friends push me away, alienate me and turn me into a object to deny relation with...I wonder how they can sleep at night. My mind and heart ache at these small rejections and losses of moments where we can experience great joy. Life is so short and filled with so much terror, horror and disintegration. Why do we work to tear one another down?
Why be selfish when you could be selfless?
Why deny when you can give?
Why have pleasure if it causes so much pain?
Martin Buber asserts that all life is relation and when we deny this relation we treat one another as an It...an object. We treat the other human if we own it, we alienate ourselves from God and from one another. Great atrocities in history were committed when Nations abdicate humanity in favor of objectification and ownership...The Holocaust, Darfur, The Holmodor....when will it end...Could it end if we would just stop hurting one another in our daily lives and squelch our propensity to treat each other as ITs and begin to treat one another as YOUs....living breathing human entities interconnected in every action, breath and word.

Back to the Grindstone....Maybe

I can't believe it! The time flies by...consistency is only a myth. Everything thing is temporal and impermanent...ask the Buddha. Nearly 2 weeks since I last posted...that might be an exaggeration. Life keeps running marathons, I am just trying to keep up. I hate running...I am ragged. School and work all week, then trips on the weekend. Not that I am complaining, I do it to myself. I don't have the money to go on trips, yet I plan them anyway as cheaply as possible.Convincing myself that I am broadening my horizon, beautifying my mind, opening the my eyes to a world beyond the self and occasionally relaxing. What I can't stop are these thoughts: Work....homework...money...life....ahhhhhhhhhhhh... I cut back my hours when school started, money became scarce...so I picked up a few hours. That sorta defies the purpose of cutting back on hours. Have you ever felt like the weasel in the song Pop goes the Weasel : "Round and Round the mulberry bush, pop goes the weasel" I am the weasel and I am being chased by Life...hmmm...no really, I am finally starting to get adjusted to the high pace....give me strength. Besides the hard work, frustrations and worries that go along with life, a few good things have happened: I've finished three really good books.

The Great Irish Potato Famine by James Donnelly,
Gods, Graves, and Scholars by C. W. Ceram, and
The Burning of Bridget Cleary by Angela Bourke.
I recommend these books to anyone interested in history and the past. They are quite engaging, well written and not at all the usual snore.

It's funny though...I've barely kept up with the reading in my University classes....whew! You wouldn't believe the extreme load. I must be gaining a reputation in the University two students came up to me in class and asked me to take notes for them....who do they think I am? Really, I can barely translate my own notes....I couldn't refuse...but I'm afraid they will be terrible disappointed at the results! Wish me luck! Hope to write again soon, maybe about something a little more engaging...Goodnight Cyberspace

Another Socrates In The Making?

Today in my Profiling Violence class the Professor cheerily announced "Instead of a term paper, I have decided to give you a creative writing assignment. Your task is to create a serial killer and do and extensive profile on him including background: childhood, parents, adolescence, and adulthood, Detailed Crime descriptions and any other pertinent additives. This assignment is meant to test your ability to understand the principles and idea of Profiling" Yet at the end of his speech, I got an itch on the back of my neck and a twitch in my eye....isn't this a bit disturbing. Serial killers exemplify a-typical, anti-social, Psychopathic behavior, that is ultimately dangerous because of its unpredictable and incomprehensible nature. Should we really be engaging a class of 75 college students to mimic this behavior...even as a creative writing assignment? To think of horrible exotic crime is half the danger, Yet isn't freedom of expression, thought and creativity what we have a right to in the United States under the 1st amendment? Hmmm...will the dean of students see this coming? Will our lovely professor be put on trial for exciting the youths of the University? Hopefully, these questions are all the over dramatic musings of a bored College student....Goodnight Cyberspace

Odd Decor

I look around my room. Finding my eyes wandering tither and ho...and back again. What does this room say about me? What would a person think if they saw it? Better yet, what if they then tried to decipher it? Is it indicative of my personality? First of all it is a cluttered, disorganized, mumble jumble of items collected over the years of my life. Center stage is a huge Pink Satin drapery...just about the color of bubble gum.. Stage right is a pink silk robe hanging on a hook attached to the back of the door. I never wear it, but it matches the curtain. A necessary accessory. Stage left a huge steamer trunk circa very old with a small 15 inch TV perched atop. Further left a dresser stacked with books, markers, color pencils, paints and albums. Against the Far wall a cedar chest, a Stereo cabinet, and a book case. Stacked with a cityscape of book skyscrapers, knick knack parks, school paper houses and odd alley ways of miscellaneous treasure (a.k.a rubbish). Find a place with free space, its impossible every inch is meticulously used like a University parking lot...even a few naughty items double parked. Upon the walls occupants range from rare Russian Orthodox icons to The Virgin of Guadalupe sharing space with Abstract artwork in brightly bold colors, Oriental paintings and a pin up poster of a Bengal Tiger from a children's magazine. Royals and commoners alike lay claim to wall space, a huge Charcoal drawing of an eye and nose...hmmm stares at A war productions poster of Rosie the riveter....she is my hero. Oh...wait one must not forget the ominous statue of Buddha beside the Bodhi tree...several Chinese dragons...and a huge martini glass with Olive my Betta fish swimming in it all crowding small shelves hooked to the wall with braces and hooks. What would you say my personality is? Make a guess....it could be terrifying...

21st Birthday Plans

Without a doubt your 21st birthday is quite a milestone. Yet isn't every year along the path a milestone. I don't know one person who has turned 17 twice or 32 three times. Each year you reach, you will never reach again except in the depth of your dreams. Introspection leads me to question whether I should be that excited about my 21st birthday. My Mother sweetly asks, "Darling, what would you like to do for your 21st birthday?" My thoughts center on the facts surrounding my birthday I have to be at school the whole day till 6, half my family will be gone 4 days before my birthday, the other half will leave to go on a cruise the day after my birthday. So what I am suppose to plan my own birthday party for them to all enjoy as they stop their busy lives for one hour? Sorry, I don't think so. I'm thinking about sending out invitations with the following inscription "I was born 21 years ago, October 16th 1986, On a day like any other, Thanks Mother, Thanks Father, without you, I would not be, please send any money you would spend on gifts in an Envelope to the charity of your choice" Do you think that would be offensive? I'm a firm believer that the only reason to celebrate is to be the company of Good Company and Good Food, otherwise I always have my new best friends Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Captain Morgan and Jose Cuervo. Who knows I just might set sail with Captain Morgan and never leave dry land....but seriously, just buy me pound of coffee and a jug of Irish cream...who needs anything else. I don't ever want to be drunk and I am not a particular devotee of any liquor cult...My question is why don't we make the 21st milestone be that of a person being old enough to take up a cause or begin to donate blood...this special holiday to celebrate coming of age to consumer liquor...doesn't really appeal to me...any one can drink a beer, but home many of us can say we have donated 20 gallons of blood?

Vacation Time Already....Trust me I am Sure

Schools been in not yet two weeks, but already I was in search of a getaway. Three hundred pages a night, even the first day! Its an outrage, there should be a law against it. In order to save my summer burnt brain, I did the responsible thing....NO I didn't read, I left Thursday night for a long weekend at the coast. Who needs money? I have a credit card. One of my favorite coastal artists Rosi Lusardi is unveiling a new exhibit "In a Different Light" at the Gallery at Marina Square in Morro Bay. That's a good enough excuse. Rosi Lusardi specializes in fused glass and paper weaving collages they are spectacular! This new exhibit is of masks...replica African masks that are done in brightly colored glasses fused with silver, gold and other sparkling foil papers...they are uniquely remarkable. She is such a small time artist that her most expensive piece was $475. Except for the exhibit the trip turned out to be more of a hassle than school. My hotel was beside the freeway and cars zoomed up and down the freeway all night, and someone had a drinking party next door. Would anyone think I was crazy if I came home early? Wait...is that a Starbucks across the street? Maybe the day is looking up...

What Will The Icons Of Our Time Be?

What will our century be remembered for?
Will we be enlightened? Primitive? Destructive? Bloody? Genocidal?
Social disorder,
Genocide,
Environmental destruction,
Divorce,
Abuse,
Death,
War,
How about Hiroshima and Auschwitz? Have we done anything in the years after WWII to further the advancement of Humanity? Not technology, but to further Ethical behavior, Human decency, Equality, Respect? To bring health, to end suffering, to insure life?

"What will intelligent people one hundred years from now regard as the icons of our times?" (David Blumenthal)

I don't want to be remembered as a citizen of the only country to drop an atomic bomb. I don't want to be remembered as the person who watched others starve as I ate and got fat. I want to be remembered as a human, who worked to empower the humanity of others by remembering and taking responsibility. Yet, I must be remembered as this person who was apart of this as all human must, in order for the memory to live on. David Blumenthal asserts that in order for humanity to respond to human suffering we must feel guilt and responsibility for what happens in the world. He rightly asserts that the icons for our century will be Hiroshima and Auschwitz because the terror of these events and their effects on our lives far out ways any advancements that have been made. With out identifying with victims, how can we ever come to know them. Be with me, stand beside all victims, all those who starve, need, cry, hurt, and die, feel and be horrified for them, so that we can find cures, solutions and ends to their many sufferings.

A Few Good Tips For College Students

Some of these tips are from personal experience, a couple in retrospect watching of friends, but mostly reflection on my last year of College. Honestly, I just wanted to collect some interesting things I have discovered:

Fun Tips:

1. A free lunch from a credit card company is never free
2. Credit cards may come in bright colors and promise big rewards, but the fees are brighter and bigger
3. Expensive books don't always mean Big pictures, but can be bought for half price from other students
4. Professors may have PHDs but that doesn't make them God
5. Sell ideas, not your soul to classes
6. Make Professors work hard, they make you work hard
7. Don't decide to send a nasty email to a professor until after the Final Exam
8. Just because you don't see the Campus Police checking for parking permits doesn't mean they don't
9. Going to the pub after failing an exam is a recipe for disaster
10. Motorcycle parking really is for Motorcycles
11. A speed bump at 55 mph or faster will ripe the exhaust pipe right out from under most mid-size cars

A little more serious:

1. Alcohol may seem like a good remedy for stress, but really it just creates more problems
2. College is the only time in your life where you get the chance to soak in so much knowledge, people, activities and networks don't waste it by partying to hard
3. Grades are insignificant measurements of learning and only follow you for a short time, Integrity or Dishonesty will follow you for the rest of your life.
4. College is 10% work, 50% using your head and 40% showing up
5. Just because your an adult doesn't mean give up on your Parents
6. Keep an Open mind, Don't forget where you came from and Leave your drama at home
   

50 First Days!

The title is only a reflection of a friendly recommendation gone wrong. Frankly, I hate Adam Sandler. I find his humor frequently obscene, x-rated and prejudice. One night a friend invited me to watch 50 first dates, I had no idea he was one of the stars or I would have made up a creative excuse. Forgive me! Friend accuse me of being a prude, stuffed shirt and in the most extreme cases an old lady, they may be right. Yet, I'd like to think of myself as appreciating culture, tact and genuine entertainment. Decide for yourself: my last movie rentals were "over the hedge" "the ghost and Mrs Muir" and Vincent Price's "House on Haunted Hill", the last horror movie made this in the last 7 years I have watched was the new "House on Haunted Hill" I still have nightmares, I get recommendations of books and movies from my Grandparents. Really, Life is about enjoyment, don't feel your mind or your time with disturbing horrific images look for truth, dignity and worth. Any way this is sort of a disjointed blog post....I just have a few thoughts and worries to mull over. I realized that unlike in grammar school, middle school, junior high, and high school where you only have one first day for the whole year, In college you have several first days depending on your course load. I have 4 first days, that is so unfair. 4 new professors, 4 new groups of students. Its quite exciting, but nerve racking. I worry that I have taken too many hard classes together or managed to get a professor with a chip on his or her shoulder. My biggest problem is I worry...Well....that is enough worrying tonight...its off to Irish history tomorrow morning. Give me a speedy commute with safety, Hot coffee, nutritious breakfast and intelligent stimuli. Goodnight Cyberspace...hope that tomorrow I have better things to add to the mix.

1st Day Of School

Like a blank page, the new school year starts...with felt tipped colored markers for notes to keep the mind awake, colored folders for classes so papers don't take trips and notebooks for more notes so the notes stay together for the long haul. Tomorrow marks the first day of my last year of my Bachelor degree. Its somewhat disturbing and liberating at the same time. I have worked so hard to reach this point, yet I am waiting for something to go wrong. Some requirement forgotten, some class misplaced, money not paid, papers missing signatures. The anxiety of the last year rivals that I felt the first year. I wonder if....I have planned, saved and done all that needs to be done. I pray that I have, this last year will be the hardest, squeezing in the last general education, checking transcripts, grad checks, getting approval for AP Exams. I pray that I find refuge from the stress that I feel now. Uniquely I am very excited over the prospect of Irish History, Religion and Moral Choice, Archeology, and Profiling Violence....Powers above, give me strength and fortitude to continue and succeed. Goodnight cyberspace, I want to be rested for my early morning commute of an hour. Give me one morning of no traffic, hot Starbucks Nonfat 1 pump mocha, extra shot and a 7-grain bran muffin....Welcome the Fall, a new school year begins...only 1 month till my 21st birthday!

Refuge...From...

In a world where chaos, selfishness, desire, pain, greed....the many human weaknesses flourish with ravenous speed. I look hard in the hope of discovering places of refuge. Refuges where peace can be sought if only in a second. At times they are far and in between. Sometimes the only peace I can find is in the confines of a brief glance. Life is a mumble jumble mess of to and fro movement, here and there constant noise. One can loose themselves and all they believe in an instant. I look to family, friends, neighbors, people on the street, writers of blogs.....anywhere. An Oasis in the desert of the hustle and bustle, where the thinking mind delves into the true self. Self exploration, Compassion, Empathy, Beauty, Creativity.....spots of color among all the gray. Rosebushes are a refuge from the rows, blocks, yards of square well watered and manicured plots of lawn. Almost like coffins waiting to be buried in plots of cement, with mourners all alike standing in mournful attendance....I can't stand tract housing. Tract housing eats up farm land, animal habitats, peace and quiet, spoils the water, clogs the streets....and for what...to destroy just one more refuge. Today they broke ground with gleaming golden shovels on one more tract of a 100 or so houses. People need houses, but why empty out houses and move to little burbs outside of town? To waste more gasoline, leave ghost neighborhoods, string out Albertsons and Starbucks into the prairies...why not slow down...plant roses and fix what makes the city an impossible place to live. How about creating communities, neighborhoods and parks where people don't have to wear bullet proof vests or carry pepper spray? When will the world see that humanity needs refuges of the mind, the body and soul.

How Blue Can You Make Me?

Honestly, All those who hate blogs that rant about the world, family and life in general...you might want to ignore this post. I intend to rant about Selfishness. Tonight I came face to face with a Mother and Father who care for nothing other than themselves. They ripped their son from our home to take him out on the street. They have no home, no food, no money. They took him from our home out of vindictiveness because they were angry that My Father couldn't allow them to do drugs and drink in our home. They are using that boy as a bargaining chip. They are so selfish they think of their addictions and wants before his safety and sanity. Its understandable that they need time to work out their lives, but not at his expense. He needs stability and love. In his whole life he has never been a top priority, numero uno, but last to least . How dare any parent put themselves first when they make a life! When two people share intimacy and create life, its not a mistake that can be wiped away and forgotten. When that child is allowed to grow, mature and become a person, no one has the right to use him as a tool. To work a system, to build guilt or blackmail people . I young life is a precious thing, where dreams, imagination, and promise bloom. V.F. the boy, has high hopes of joining the coastguard and saving people someday, yet his Father and Mother want to take him out of school and football practice...for what? For selfishness, just to punish My Father. How can they be so cruel to their son? My Mother's tears flow uncontrollably, she feels sick with worry about this young boy that she has grown to love and care for. I have so much more I'd like to say, but I will finish before I continue. I am stopping now in order for anyone who reads this not to think of my words but to think of the boy, V. F. , He is a human being just beginning with his whole life ahead of him. How dare his parents put his life on hold so they can fulfill hedonistic urges! Responsibility, Respect, Compassion and Love, Remember and Use your heart and Your mind! REMEMBER THE CHILDREN!

Fresh Basil!

I love Basil! With a scent sweet and spicy. A flavor reminiscent of anise. My taste for Basil has matured into an addiction. I eat Thai two days a week during the fall, winter and Spring quarters. I don't know how I survived before, if you've never tasted a true Thai curry you haven't lived. Do you know that Basil makes or breaks a true Stir Fry, Pad Thai, and Curry? Now I am the proud owner of Cinnamon Basil, African Blue Basil, Holy Basil, Red Basil and Italian Basil. Who knew that it was more than just a spice? That it was powerful, amazing and beautiful. Basil has a powerful history riddled with myth and holiness. To certain cultures it is holy herb that can heal, protect, and bring good fortune. The etymology of 'basil' comes from the Greek word for King: its fabled that Basil grew on the spot where St. Constantine and Helen discovered the Holy Cross. Basil is the symbol for love in Italy (I wish someone would send me a bouquet of Basil) and hatred in Greece. Religiously it purifies water in the Orthodox church, revered as holy by Buddhists and Hindus. Jew's believe basil strengthens resolve during fasting. African mythology asserts that basil wards off scorpions in the desert. Mysteriously Basil in many cultures protects one after life providing them safe passage to the underworld. Never eat to just eat, Eat to Live! Know what you eat! Life is more than what meets the eye!

Raise your hand!

Raise your hand if you are as angry at 1 800 numbers, computer animated voices and the phrase:"All our operators are busy, please hang up and try this number later" I have called three offices, the University Financial Aid, Dell Tech support and University Registration office. All three times I heard that phrase 6 times trying to get a hold of someone. Finally I gave up...then the semi-colon key fell off my laptop.....Please what have I done to bring this upon myself? So in order to stop myself from complaining about my ADD cousin yanking the key of my laptop or about the Financial Aid debacle, I have decided to stop right here and not write a word more until tomorrow.......its too depressing....

Its Bath Time For The Baby...

No, I don't have a baby...I have a chihuahua...is there a difference? Don't laugh so loud! Honestly, he is as much a responsibility as a child. I have always been a 'big' dog fan: Rottweilers, Mastiffs, Chows, German Shepherds never teeny tiny ones. Then out of the blue, I get a chihuahua puppy from a friend. I couldn't resist him...he is chocolate brown...a dog that is the same color as a dark chocolate Hershey bar...is after my own heart. He fit in the palm of my hand. Chico is now in his 8th year he is 10 times as big and 10 times more trouble. Every year he gets a cold during the summer that is if I don't cover him up at night from the cooler. He will get heat stroke if he lays in the sun too long. Yet, he is a 'big' dog at heart...he will take down a pit bull or a pile of rattlesnakes if given the chance. I've had to save him from his ego a few times. He braves dark halls, bullies the cat, chases the PG&E and mail man...yet he cries like a little baby when he hears the sink water. He hates water...rainwater, ocean water, puddles or hoses. They all feel him with disgust. He tiptoes across the car wash water puddles and will not go outside if its raining. Today he gets his once every two week bath and now he is hiding his head in indignation. He will milk a piece of chicken or ginger snap out of me before the night is over. His eyes bring me to my knees. Where is my dignity? I gave it up for a chocolate pup....Pobrecito!

Starbuckian

Without a doubt I have an addiction. I fight it daily, starting with the first few drops falling from the coffee pot. The smell of fresh ground coffee sends my tastes buds into a tizzy. With too many cups I will be a bit dizzy. I must watch my intake....yet the devil snared me with a magnificent trap a.k.a. Starbucks. Don't let them fool you, it wasn't God or his court of heavenly angels that devised the plot of a shop where one could obtain both chocolate and coffee in every form imaginable. How is one so very human being suppose to survive when faced with decadent mochas or Chocolate covered coffee beans. If there ever was a sin built to lead the strongest will astray its their perfect blend of chocolate and java. There should be a clinic for those of us who just can't afford 4 dollars a cup....Its bad enough that when the clock strikes ten I am one my walk just down the block to find another cup. I must draw the line when I find myself washing pockets of these choco covered beans and wondering if they are still edible. Between classes...at the end of the day I'm wondering if there is a way to hit Starbucks before I close my eyes. I must confess my problem is quite embarrassing when I pay my credit card and the statement reads Starbucks from top to bottom. A twinge of pride should make me smile when I hear that Starbucks is a fortune five hundred company.Why? I helped them get there. My face turns crimson when I drive to the window and the Barista hands me a cup before I order. This must come to an abrupt end, I have to take a stand and ban this product from my system. As a reward for my virtuous stand I think I might just take a break for an Iced Cafe Orange Cafe Mocha made with Nonfat milk. I will work harder tomorrow.

Grandma's Anniversary

People scurry to and fro, back and forth, left and right, all packaged chaotically in a small home. The heat is unbearable, the swamp cooler just won't do the trick. Hey Mom how about we go buy a block of ice and drop inside? People murmur loud and quite about memories from the past. Some sitting close on dinning room chairs, others lounging on the couch, a few squished uncomfortably in white plastic patio chairs used on these occasion as living room furniture. (The Genius of Rednecking it!) Two sets of Grandparents sharing stories of times far forgotten in the minds of the youth present. One of the youth sets hanging on every word (that's me) just trying to capture these memories for herself, Another types away on a aged laptop trying to play dogfights with slow Internet, the last two set arms intertwined with thoughts of loving on their minds. Conversation drifts from Oil Derricks to Missions.

Finally the Feast is set with BBQ chicken, Potato salad, one dish that might still be alive brought by an Aunt that you just smile and pass by, beans with no spice, and bread that wasn't cut through the bottom crust so that half a dozen dinners must wrench loose hot chunks of garlic buttered toast. As dinner comes to an end the Family searches for a delectable dessert but all come up blank. I wonder do they not realize their is no dessert. Grandma and Grandpa whose anniversary it is move their eyes to me....Grandma says, "Wheres my Anniversary cake?" Wide eyed I answer, "We have no cake" Grandma smiles with a twinge of irritation, "Your fired" The group bursts in to laughter but Grandma keeps that expression of hurt. I race to the Kitchen for a Cupcake or Snack cake anything that will satisfy the sweet tooth of an old woman. Finally in desperation I break my Organic Dark 70% Chocolate bar in half and present it to Grandma and Grandpa with smiles and laughs. Yet, Grandma can only wonder, "Is this sweetened?" A wayward Aunt goes into the kitchen looking for any remnants of the Chocolate she didn't share. Sorry, there isn't a bite more......I will never again not make a cake....I love my Family. Welcome to the Family!

What If All We Had Were Muskets?

What if Mr. Winchester had been a bridge engineer, Smith and Wesson were cookbook writers like Betty Crocker ? What if AK47s , bazookas were slang for chocolate bars or pretty girls? What if we all still used black powder guns? Would there be drivebys?

Just Think: "Ok boys, ready the powder horns stuff those wads and balls down....don't forget to powder them good" says the leader driving the low rider Cadillac pimped up with top notch gray primer. Hands and arms rush all over. One gangbanger looks to the other, "Have you seen my powder horn?" The other looks at him and says, "Man I don't swing that way" The leader says, "Hurry up boys, don't forget to set up the next round....don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes" he whispers. The others set busily readying their muzzle loading muskets. "Come on hurry up here comes the that lazy no good Crypt, we need revenge for our Blood brothers" said the Leader once more as he slowed down. The muskets explode off and the bangers start to reload. By the time they raise their muskets for the next shot the Fuzz is on them like fleas on a dogs back. Causalities....no one, the whole neighborhood is awake and their are 100 witness down the block of the shooting...

What a world? One would wonder if it would be worth the effort.....if all we had were muskets? Something tells me life would be a whole lot safer.
Laugh, Love, Live and Lounge don't Shoot, Starve, Strike or Stab!

AHHHHHHHH

I am beyond good thought, I have lost all patience, virtue is thrown out the window along with my laptop, subscription to Netflix, and wireless internet that costs 110 dollars a month. What a huge waste! Its over...I am done...God please give me patience tomorrow....goodnight cyberspace

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, Its Off To School I Go

June, July, August, Where have you gone? Wasn't it just yesterday I was basking in the glory of a long, eventful and exciting summer? How young you looked, bright, glittering in golden rays of hopes and dreams. All shattered by the looming coming of September...11th. As if that wasn't enough I signed up for 4: Tuesday, Thursday classes and some bright intelligent administrator decided to change one of the classes to a Monday, Wednesday, Friday class. This late in the registration game little hope in finding a replacement. Yet I am amazed...I found a replacement. From Chicano experiences in the US to Irish History from 1800 on. I love it! Miracles never cease to amaze me. Now if I could only find the money to pay for the $300 book bill. Do you think I could pawn my laptop, Ipod and Pac Sun Sunglasses to get the money? Maybe they will take Monopoly money?

Stereotypes

My blood boils when I hear stereotypes. One of the most stereotyped groups in American history is the Native Americans. First of all not all Native Americans wear feathers, hunt bison, or collect scalps. They don't all live on dusty plains or ride horses. Please this is the year 2007, lets try living in the modern world. Certain groups such as the Iroquois a league of 7 different tribes had a complex system of government and social structure with laws, a written language of wampum belts and elevated matriarchs. Some Native American groups were and are lead almost entirely by women such as the Navajo. The first mistake people most often make is that we they refer to Native Americans as if they are one universal group, tribes of Native Americans are as distinct and different as The US is from Papua New Guinea. In California alone their were several hundred tribes with that many different languages.

The "Bad Indian" image of scalps, war bonnets, and kidnapping white women and children is as equally dehumanizing as the "Good Indian" image of a child of nature which is just a romanticized story much like the idea of an Uncle Tom . Simply put, Native Americans are people the same as any other group of ethnicity or race, they are not entirely blameless or savage. To stereotype a people is to deny their humanity. Each time a people or person is denied humanity, we deny and kill their culture, unique, faults, successes and purpose of life. America speaks of Native Americans like a people of the past, a picturesque quantifiable historic record. There are more Native American remains in storage in the Smithsonian than their are living Native American people. How can we explain this away? We name sports teams the Redskins, the Braves, the Indians. We act as though its all in fun and games...yet calling a Native American a Redman or Redskin is the same as throwing out a racial slur. How dare Americans continue injustices of the past by labeling and stereotyping living people. We remember the Japanese internment, we remember the Holocaust, but we choose to forget the Trail of tears.

Help!!!!!!!!

I don't have a little brother...or I didn't until about a month ago. Surprisingly my parents aren't having another baby, they didn't adopt, they aren't foster parents. This little brother adopted me. Actually my cousin his parents are going through a divorce. He bugs me until I want to pull out my own hair. Lets refer to him as V.F. He is a little crazy, there can be no other explanation, every time I go anywhere he stows away some how one way or another. Inside the store he tells everyone he is my little brother and does the most embarrassing things. He told one clerk that I was his mother and he didn't want to be left alone again.....take a deep breath and count to ten.

I wonder what goes through the boys mind. No he isn't five he is fifteen. Yes, I am serious...he is like a human garbage disposal that talks non-stop 24/7. He is really cute...when he is asleep. He is kinda like a puppy he needs lots of loving care, attention and looking after. You must feed, water and make sure he goes to the bathroom frequently. When he needs attention he pelts me with a pillow, bites my arm, pinches me, throws a book at me.....1...2...3....I try to be a controlled person. I am 20 years old...I shouldn't be pillow fighting with a fifteen year old boy. Yet, that is what he wants...he wants attention focused one on one attention. You have to be careful because you never know what is going to come out of his mouth. He would tell a bad joke to a nun, (he has tried).

His latest stunt: 3:00pm today I get this call on my cell phone, "please come pick me up, please these Mexican boys are going to beat me up, they are waiting outside of the library...please" I'm thinking gosh, what did you do to them...but I promise to come get him. I drive all the way to the library about 23 miles. Pick him up taking him to get a slushee so we can talk. V. F. tells me this long story: "I was walking down the hallway and these 4 Mexican kids asked me @!!$%^ ( a colorful expletive) what are you staring at, so I said You fagots... "

My mind is racing....1...2...3...oh my gosh, what is wrong this boy. Didn't his parents teach him that first of all not all Hispanics are Mexicans and secondly that fagot is a bundle of small sticks not a group of angry little boys, furthermore not an appropriate way to respond to people? I was about to preach to him about his wrongs when he twists his face into a huge clown face smile saying in a voice as sweet as honey, "I made this all up to get a ride home so I didn't have to take the bus." 1....34....67....100...My face turns three shades of red, what could I do, tell him the story of the boy who cried wolf? Something tells me that it wouldn't make an impact unless the the boy was a rapping kangaroo and the wolf a gangbanger Lion.

Honestly, if anyone has any suggestions on how to keep your temper and enrich the life of an attention starved fifteen year old boy who needs a friend to talk to...offer them up. I need all the help I can get. I am not a saint and I am too old to learn new tricks...but I'm willing to give it a try.

Song of Note

I've never been a fan of popular music. You could say I live in the music archives of the 20s through the 80's. Everything from Classic, Celtic, Rock even Pop. Yet, once in a while I find an awesome song that I praise for its social relevance, power and human decency value. My current love is the Black Eyed Peas song "UNION." When I heard this song for the first time, the power of the lyrics and the beat took my breath away. If only we could live by the words :

"God made us all equal in his vision
I wish that I could make music as a religion
Then we could harmonise together in this mission
Listen, I know it's really hard to make changes
But two of us could help rearrange this curse
Utilising all the power in our voices
Together we will unite and make the right choice
And fight for education, save the next generation
Come together as one"

What a world would it be if we could come together as one. I'd love to explain my theory on religion and life, but I don't want to color the pure impact of this song on all those who listen. Maybe in a later blog. If you'd like to look up the lyrics here is a good website: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/blackeyedpeas/union.html
Contact me and I will try to send you the mp3 file.

Enjoy Life!

Ink'd

What is the charm of injecting ink into your skin? Having ingrained images of teddy bears, scorpions, dice, stars, naked women, names permanently implanted on your lower back, bicep, ankles or face. I by no means intend on being offensive, but the idea is somewhat disturbing. Tattoos seem to be crowding the skin of people from 16 to 105. Is it peer pressure, is it a beauty mark, or is it a sign of power? The ability to set through hours of pain and have something to show for it? I find that tattoos do not enhance the appearance of beautiful women or handsome men. Actually to me they are ugly accessories, too many tattoos cover up the importance of the human underneath.
How much do they cost? 80 to 100 dollars an hour ! The average time for a extensive complex tatoo: several hours. What really is most abhorrent to me is that tattoo ink isn't regulated by any type of health or human safety organization, no FDA or initialized government department. Often tattoo inks contain several heavy metals, carcinogens, and nasty additives that if ever released into the blood or exposed to the right conditions can cause poisoning, cancer and hepatitis. Do people realize this when they go into a tattoo parlor, that it's like playing Russian roulette with your blood stream? Bertha, Julia, Mona and Marissa, might someday divorce, leave or move on and then you have to get that ugly monument to lost love lazered off?

Urgent Update...Resilence Hides In Strange Places

Amazingly, My Sister's laptop went back together with only one left over screw. Can you believe it? I couldn't. Do you believe in Miracles? You should now, IT WORKS! Do you need a laptop? Pick a Dell XPS M1210, they can survive anything! I had to give her congratulations, I don't know that I could have accomplished that feat. My only question is What did that screw do?

The Master of Innovation must be Stubborn Craziness! If you see flying pigs...or ice in death valley during the summer...let me now...Life never ceases to amaze me.

When Cats attack and We take things into our own hands

For anyone out there that is a professional or has some type of fix it skills this is for you. I will admit I know absolutely nothing about fixing electronics, setting up a computer, dealing with computer errors or creating programs. I have very little technical knowledge of anything besides low skill maintenance of my Crown Vic. Therefore, when something goes wrong with my trusty Dell E1505, I call up tech support and request assistance, I don't try to unscrew the screen or pop off the keys and spray in contact cleaner. I know better. Yet some humans don't.

Example: My Antisocial Sister. Age: 18. Education: freshman in college. Aspirations in life: David her boyfriend and becoming a level 156 on WoW. Qualities of interest: way to smart for her own good, know it all confidence, ability to ignore all good advice for the workings of her own mind, and a little more than basic knowledge of computers. Problem to solve: She sets a full glass of water next to her bed on her nightstand. Later she sits her computer below said water glass. Anyone want to guess what happens next? Four hours later a returning sister finds her laptop sopping wet. All Hades breaks loose, volcanoes of red hot expletives flood from her mouth, and rags fly to try and salvage the wet laptop. Now if it were me, I would have dried it off best I could and then called my Father a electrical mechanic to ask advice and secondly called Dell to redeem free advice on the best action to take. Yet, even after my kind advice to the subject she chose to disassemble the 2000 dollar piece of equipment on her own.

Solution: Pieces went everywhere, the keyboard came off, screws lay in piles around the dissected case, plastic unsnapped, circuit boards lay scattered across the dinning room table. This was not enough however, then she put it together, then took it apart again going for broke this time, to California or bust! Not only did pieces disassemble, but those pieces were slid apart and made smaller. Still no calls were made. I'm curious doesn't this void your warranty? As of today, the computer is still laying in pieces, will it live again? God only knows, Can she put it all back together and send it in for a replacement? She is not happy, her face grimaces every time she looks at me. Where will I hide when she has extra parts in reassembling?

Comdedy of Errors or Coffee?

Ever had one of those days ....where everything seems to go wrong. I woke up late, knocked off my alarm clock, the shower drain was clogged with hair. By the time I made it to the kitchen all the coffee was gone. Without my coffee the day just couldn't get worse, that is until I slipped walking into my first house of the morning. The thought crossed my mind that I aught to go home and lay down, but I couldn't I needed to work. I knocked over three glass bottles, two canes, a decanter of wine, and a salt shaker. As if that wasn't bad enough I knocked over a brass coffee pot and pulled down a curtain. I had decided to wash my hands of the whole day when the soap slipped out of my hands and flew across the bathroom, stooping to pick up the soap I knocked over the toilet paper. I didn't believe the day could get any worse so I decided to take my chances at lunch, dumped diet down my shirt and gave up. Does anyone know are the planets aligned oddly? Are the gremlins out in full force? Honestly, though I'm thinking it had to do with the no coffee thing.

The Illusion of Youth

Youth is sought after obsessively by people in the United States. Every other commercial advertises a wrinkle creme, a new cosmetic procedure or some easy fix shot that will give you the lips of a puffy 19 year old. I have no idea in the least why any mature beautiful woman would go through the humiliation and degradation of using these products. The youth of adolescence brings worries, identity crisis, pain and awkwardness (which causes wrinkles...why not keep those badges of survival?). I believe that silver hair and laugh lines are a beautiful part of the aging process representing beauty and knowledge. Heck I will be beaming if I still have hair to go silver when I am 78. Aged women search out beauty to look like young women....Old men search out young women to feel young. Youth is a fleeting and vain pursuit that can only lead to heartache. From the moment we are born we are aging. Kaiser Permanente says it best: Who says it is disgraceful to dance a lambada at your granddaughter's wedding? To use the the abused cliche your only as old as you feel, How true! What is youth but the beginning of the journey to the end. Important is the journey not the benchmarks along the way.

Old Lamps, New Light

One mans trash is another man's treasure? Tis true for me. Except the trash was my grandparent's broken lamp circa 1960's. The lamp is about 3 feet tall, the base is a massive ornately ridged amber glass vase settled tightly on a brass stand. Completely gorgeous, or at least it was to my eyes. The lamp sat in the driveway covered in dirt, the wires strung out everywhere, the lamp shade sun bleached and cracked, the base separated. Can you imagine such a travesty? I immediately asked My Grandmother for the lamp. With smirks and smiles my Grandmother said, "Of course, take it, here let me carry it out to your car." I couldn't imagine why she would give away such a beautiful antique lamp or how she could let it set in the driveway. After many applications of soap water and elbow grease. I finally twisted the light bulb in and pushed in the switch. Tink, Tink, Tink....oh please come on...Tink, flash ....light. The lamp lite up the entire room. Beautiful, Magnificent, superb, awe inspiring. So Grandma what do you think of that lamp now? Sorry, its not for sale. No, I don't mind if you want to come look at it. Yes that is the original lampshade. Seriously, I washed it, dried it and did major repair. No, Grandma I have room. But honestly, I do have to Thank you, Grandma for giving it to me.

Blogging it

Sitting here in my front room typing I wonder. Do others read this blog or not? How often should I expect readers? Should I expect them? Is my blog worthy of cyberspace? Ha Ha, anything is worthy of cyberspace. Curiously though I wonder if what I write is interesting to people. Some of my posts are long and a little mushy. I am trying to work on that. Professors accuse me of occasionally being prolix and boring. When professors write comments like "too long," "you realize I have a life right?," "KISS" and "please have pity," I came to the conclusion I might have a problem. The cure: practice clear and concise writing. Location: In a blog.

If I do have readers throw comments every once in a while to boost my spirits. This is my first blog and I haven't decided whether the point of a blog is to have a readership or use it like an online diary. Either way, I enjoy writing so all is well today.

To Wash or To Wash Not

One 1998 champagne Ford Crown Victoria covered in dust, a little bird mess, some road tar splattered intermittently on the undercarriage, 1 broken hub cap cover (broke when I kicked it angrily...ouch), and a blue CHP antenna ball, This is my car. Nothing exciting, no slamming stereo or shiny rims, just a car that gets 23 mpg. Not really fuel efficient or environment friendly, but it gets me to school, work and back home. It was my 18th birthday present from my grandparents. I check my own oil, tire pressure, and fluids. I change my own tires not happily, but I do it. Yet, there is one thing I don't do, wash it. I think it is a huge waste of water. When the time comes that we have to choose between showers, lawns, gardens and washing our cars. I won't have to make a decision. I've already decided: Showers and gardens. A car gets dirty from the moment the water dries on, continually the air carries tiny particles of extra fine dust that stick to the paint layer upon layer. I wonder if by the time a car is 10 years old if 75% of the paint is dust? I believe the hype behind washing is actually Car dealerships. The more you wash a car, the more often the layers of attached dust take away minuscule bits of paint. Therefore, you will either have to paint your car or buy another and we all know buying another car is much more fun. Don't buy into the hype save water and paint, Don't wash.