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proof is in the pudding
1.02.2009
how blond is your vanity?
12.30.2008
An anonymous commenter asked me if I used to be a redhead (based on the pic below). This, coincidentally, is something I was thinking a lot about while visiting my parents over Christmas, and we discussed in great and bewildering detail.
I did not used to have red hair. I did, however, use to have blond hair. In fact, the bulk of my arm hair still turns blond during the summer...maybe this is common for everyone, but I like to think it makes me special. The thing I don't understand, though, is that my birth certificate says Hair: Brown.
...
I was pretty obviously blond for the first few years of my life (as to be proven with photographic evidence, later). How did they know I would end up brunette? Did they even care or notice? Did they make the Brown determination based on the not inconsiderable amount of placenta I probably had plastered all over me?
Did anyone else just throw-up a little in their mouth?
I did not used to have red hair. I did, however, use to have blond hair. In fact, the bulk of my arm hair still turns blond during the summer...maybe this is common for everyone, but I like to think it makes me special. The thing I don't understand, though, is that my birth certificate says Hair: Brown.
...
I was pretty obviously blond for the first few years of my life (as to be proven with photographic evidence, later). How did they know I would end up brunette? Did they even care or notice? Did they make the Brown determination based on the not inconsiderable amount of placenta I probably had plastered all over me?
Did anyone else just throw-up a little in their mouth?
by way of aplogy:
12.28.2008
12.24.2008
lukewarm milk
11.30.2008
Why is it that, in movies, when one of the characters is eating cereal for breakfast, there is always milk on the table? Be it either a half-filled gallon, a quart carton, or some kind of glass carafe, it's always there.
Who does this?
Do you?
I don't.
Why would you ever just leave milk on the table to sit there and get warm? That's like making pancakes and leaving a box of Bisquick next to you, isn't it? Or are there re-fillers out there?
Weirdos.
Who does this?
Do you?
I don't.
Why would you ever just leave milk on the table to sit there and get warm? That's like making pancakes and leaving a box of Bisquick next to you, isn't it? Or are there re-fillers out there?
Weirdos.
be sure to take your vitamins
11.29.2008
Parents have things they say. This may have been obvious to you. Parents have things they say like mantras, and they end every conversation. "I love you" is one, though now that I write this I realize that that's not something my parents actually say very often. They (we) say "Lovingly" right before hanging up the phone, or walking out the door. And we say it like it's at least two words: "Love-ing Lee!" And as I was growing up, I actually thought that it two words and that it was a phrase that I just didn't understand, yet...which is true, as I apparently didn't know that "Love" had an adjective form at the time.
For some reason, I never questioned it.
It honestly wasn't until my early 20's when my mom and dad said it to me in the usual singsong voice we use when I had a vision of a handwritten not seen from the perspective of the writer, her quill pen just scribing the salutation..."Lovingly," and I then realized what I had been saying for 20-odd years.
I still hear "Love-ing Lee", though. And in my head I don't think of "Lee" as a person, but instead the lee of a rocky outcropping, a safe haven in a storm.
No, I don't know what is the matter with me either.
For some reason, I never questioned it.
It honestly wasn't until my early 20's when my mom and dad said it to me in the usual singsong voice we use when I had a vision of a handwritten not seen from the perspective of the writer, her quill pen just scribing the salutation..."Lovingly," and I then realized what I had been saying for 20-odd years.
I still hear "Love-ing Lee", though. And in my head I don't think of "Lee" as a person, but instead the lee of a rocky outcropping, a safe haven in a storm.
No, I don't know what is the matter with me either.
Happy Thanksgiving
11.27.2008
I'm cheap, but you still have to buy me dinner
11.26.2008
The one good thing to come of out the current economic crisis...other than the obvious of low low prices on brand name items... is that I paid a little over $30 for a tank of gas yesterday. Which is $20-$30 less than I paid over the summer. Think of all the drugs I can buy with that money! Finally I can trade-up to sweet sweet cocaine instead of that dirty crack!
i just want to bang on me drum all day
11.17.2008
I think a lot.
Too much.
I need a lot of input to keep me occupied, which is odd as I also have astounding bouts of laziness.
Or at least what I consider laziness.
I listen to multiple conversations in a restaurant at the same time. Not because I eavesdrop, but because I just do. It's as if my brain has some extra space sitting by and it takes up the task on it's own. The people I'm with at the time, especially if they're, say, a woman I'm on a date with, probably find it rude when I answer a question they didn't ask but that the person at the next table did. Even so, they can't complain that I'm distracted, because I never am, I'm listening to them, too.
Sometimes, when I watch TV, I also am listening to my iPod in one ear... and reading a book. To be honest, I'm not sure how terribly effective this is as I'm probably retaining none of it...there was a time during my freshman year in college when I was sitting in my dorm room on the back of my desk chair studying, while I also had my stereo blasting in the background. Given the year, it was probably some kind of guitar virtuoso like Joe Satriani or Steve Vai (two coolest last names, linked with two boring first names, by the way). My door was open, as was the style of the time, and one of my floor-mates was walking by on the way to who the hell cares where. He was a particularly dorky kid (not that I was giving James Dean anything to worry about) who liked to be called Tiger.
Which is really annoying. If there are any rules to nicknames, and there are, the first and most important one is: you do not give yourself a nickname. Which is why I made a point of calling "Tiger", Brian and "Morg", Chris...loudly and clearly, which is no small feat for a chronic mumbler.
At any rate, Brian was walking by my room when he glanced in, saw me perched on my chair staring at a Physics book with the strains of Surfing With The Alien rattling the windows. "You're studying!" he exclaimed. I gave him a bemused look. This kid really annoyed the hell out of me. "AND you're playing music!" he squeaked. My bemused look turned to confusion, and I mouthed a drawn-out and questioning, "Okaaaaaay?" to him. His eyes dropped and he muttered while turning away, "That is so cool!", mentally adding that to his list of things to emulate later to up the cool-factor of his Tiger persona.
I'm fairly sure he wasn't making fun of me and was actually sincere... he just wasn't the asshole-type (like me). I remember thinking how odd his observation was, because this kind of brain-filling (or multi-tasking) is something I've always done.
But back to the effectiveness of it, judging by my freshman year grades, I probably should have spent more time quietly in the library, and less time bobbing my head to Eric Johnson while trying to understand differential equations. But perhaps there were...other...distractions when it comes to that.
I'm a multi-tasker at work, too...though Science will tell you that multi-tasking is actually strictly impossible. Instead it's some kind of crazy rapid switching back and forth. At any rate, I'll work on something for 10 minutes here, then switch to something else, then back, then to another thing and on and on, all day long. It works for me, somehow. In some ways, I feel like my brain is working on how to do something while I'm not actively thinking about, and then I get back to it when I'm ready.
What is my point?
My point is that despite this being the way that I do things, I feel like I need a break. I just want to sit in silence for a bit and not get antsy, or have my mind start racing, or feel like I'm wasting my time.
I need to learn how to meditate.
Too much.
I need a lot of input to keep me occupied, which is odd as I also have astounding bouts of laziness.
Or at least what I consider laziness.
I listen to multiple conversations in a restaurant at the same time. Not because I eavesdrop, but because I just do. It's as if my brain has some extra space sitting by and it takes up the task on it's own. The people I'm with at the time, especially if they're, say, a woman I'm on a date with, probably find it rude when I answer a question they didn't ask but that the person at the next table did. Even so, they can't complain that I'm distracted, because I never am, I'm listening to them, too.
Sometimes, when I watch TV, I also am listening to my iPod in one ear... and reading a book. To be honest, I'm not sure how terribly effective this is as I'm probably retaining none of it...there was a time during my freshman year in college when I was sitting in my dorm room on the back of my desk chair studying, while I also had my stereo blasting in the background. Given the year, it was probably some kind of guitar virtuoso like Joe Satriani or Steve Vai (two coolest last names, linked with two boring first names, by the way). My door was open, as was the style of the time, and one of my floor-mates was walking by on the way to who the hell cares where. He was a particularly dorky kid (not that I was giving James Dean anything to worry about) who liked to be called Tiger.
Which is really annoying. If there are any rules to nicknames, and there are, the first and most important one is: you do not give yourself a nickname. Which is why I made a point of calling "Tiger", Brian and "Morg", Chris...loudly and clearly, which is no small feat for a chronic mumbler.
At any rate, Brian was walking by my room when he glanced in, saw me perched on my chair staring at a Physics book with the strains of Surfing With The Alien rattling the windows. "You're studying!" he exclaimed. I gave him a bemused look. This kid really annoyed the hell out of me. "AND you're playing music!" he squeaked. My bemused look turned to confusion, and I mouthed a drawn-out and questioning, "Okaaaaaay?" to him. His eyes dropped and he muttered while turning away, "That is so cool!", mentally adding that to his list of things to emulate later to up the cool-factor of his Tiger persona.
I'm fairly sure he wasn't making fun of me and was actually sincere... he just wasn't the asshole-type (like me). I remember thinking how odd his observation was, because this kind of brain-filling (or multi-tasking) is something I've always done.
But back to the effectiveness of it, judging by my freshman year grades, I probably should have spent more time quietly in the library, and less time bobbing my head to Eric Johnson while trying to understand differential equations. But perhaps there were...other...distractions when it comes to that.
I'm a multi-tasker at work, too...though Science will tell you that multi-tasking is actually strictly impossible. Instead it's some kind of crazy rapid switching back and forth. At any rate, I'll work on something for 10 minutes here, then switch to something else, then back, then to another thing and on and on, all day long. It works for me, somehow. In some ways, I feel like my brain is working on how to do something while I'm not actively thinking about, and then I get back to it when I'm ready.
What is my point?
My point is that despite this being the way that I do things, I feel like I need a break. I just want to sit in silence for a bit and not get antsy, or have my mind start racing, or feel like I'm wasting my time.
I need to learn how to meditate.
Ashy LArry
11.16.2008
SoCal is burning down...again. Which I suppose is the dark side of perpetual sunny days. Other than family illness, I can think of no worse hardship for a family to go through (I'm sure you just thought of a dozen). Not only must it hit you financially and physically, but also emotionally as you realize how fragile your belongings are. I hope that people are dealing with their losses OK.
I had a fire in my apartment a few years ago, and, though it was bad, it wasn't that bad. I was able to save my computer, and things like pictures. Everything else suddenly didn't have all that much importance in the face of what might have happened (loss of life, bodily injury, etc). How attached can one really get to their microwave, really?
But for those in this week's LA fires, they're losing everything...with only their memories to sustain them. And as I sit on my front porch writing this, the sun blood red and ash sifting down all around me, I wonder what memories are gathering around me. Good luck LA.
I had a fire in my apartment a few years ago, and, though it was bad, it wasn't that bad. I was able to save my computer, and things like pictures. Everything else suddenly didn't have all that much importance in the face of what might have happened (loss of life, bodily injury, etc). How attached can one really get to their microwave, really?
But for those in this week's LA fires, they're losing everything...with only their memories to sustain them. And as I sit on my front porch writing this, the sun blood red and ash sifting down all around me, I wonder what memories are gathering around me. Good luck LA.