Today, younglings, I will tell you the tale of the Little Japanese Woman.
There was once, in a land far away, a pediatrics Office of the name Mt. Airy, after the town where it resided. In this office, children of snotty noses and babies of screaming toothlessness came in and out; also, those of teenager-hood (thinking themselves too cool for exams), and those too old to come, who came anyway.
In this office worked a young maiden. Her heart was pure and her eyes mischievous, for always was she thinking of her life in another land; the land of Duval Street. It was there that she had her friends of yore and old, and those who guided her with sage wisdom were also there.
This young maiden sat at her computer, and verily and readily did she type and file papers all the day long, until she was weary and sore from her toil. Those around her were her friends, and with good cheer and laughter did they make their path across the lonely days.
One day, when the maiden was smiling in good humor at a harried mother of four, a Little Japanese Woman came in the door. With a jingle and a tiny wrinkled smile, this Little Japanese Woman came to the counter in her tiny Japanese self and crinkled her eyes at the madonna Sharon, who was sitting ready to receive her.
"Hi, hi," said the Little Japanese Woman, in a voice like wind brushing through chimes, "I am here, and for a fundraiser I am selling these." And the Little Japanese Woman took up a box of beautiful origami and placed it on the counter.
Both the maiden Sarah and the madonna Sharon looked upon with eyes that opened wide to see the beauty of these things. And the maiden Sarah took quickly to flight, and she ran up the stairs and pulled a secret fold of dollars from her bag. With these she ran back down to the Little Japanese Woman and said, in a voice breathless and eyes sparkling,
"I would like to buy two of those beautiful things!"
And the Little Japanese Woman smiled a grateful crinkled smile, and said in a voice like a cat thanking a benificent hand for its fish,
"Ah, ah, thank you, thank you."
The madonna Sharon bought one also. Then the Little Japanese Woman left.
But wait, younglings! That is not the end of the tale!
The chief of all these people, the manager Jennifer, who came many years ago from over the sea, did not see the Little Japanese Woman go. When told of all that had transpired, she ran to get her own money, and hurriedly did she press it into the hand of the maiden Sarah, and she said,
"Go, go now, before she is gone from us, and get me one of those beautiful origamis - a blue one!"
And quickly did the maiden Sarah run, but all in vain, for the Little Japanese Woman had disappeared, as a ghost into thin air, and was nowhere to be seen.
But then! The maiden Sarah happened to glance into the window that looks down into the maw and darkness of the evil Coopermanland, where they sell things that no man should buy. And in the jaws of that land of doom, she saw the Little Japanese Woman, looking up fearlessly with her wrinkled face into the hard eyes of the Owner of Coopermanland. And the maiden Sarah hurried to rescue the Little Japanese Woman from her fate.
"Can I buy another one?" she gasped.
"Ah, ah, yes, of course," said the Little Japanese Woman, smiling her wrinkled smile.
Then the maiden Sarah went back to the Office, and the Little Japanese Woman went on her way, with her box full of beautiful origami, and her little wrinkled smile on her face.
Jun 15, 2007
Shipwreck and Woman in Garden
Some poetry I've been working on lately.
Shipwreck
Upon the folded quilt of wrinkled hills
Into the creased and the dimpled hollows there
Where rusted lullaby drains in curved rills
Where crying cranes their mournful dirges share
Sunlight, the floating gold and fiery dust
Has now made this its last and gentle home
And in the brunneous moss-and-bracken crust
Seeks shadows in the mazes of the loam
The swelling and the felling of the sea
A mouth that weeps forth pale and foamy spume
Loping beneath sullen waves and debris
A ship into its dank, cavernous tomb
With all aboard from mastheads fore to aft
Clinging with all their lifeblood to their craft
Woman in the Garden
Like the face of a round, starkly dangerous clock
Opening wide to speak of times dire
Her eyes open now, gleaming white, gleaming black
Full of a dangerous time
Her lips are pale, blood-red her evening frock
Her hands are long and white like cranes
Her hair spills in rivulets down her arching back
Full of a dangerous rhyme
The clock, cruel and pitilessly looping round
Counting down the minutes, precious few
Until the bell of midnight must finally ring
Full of a dangerous chime
Looking out from beneath her torn gown
Legs long like leaping dolphins, she rises
And folds of crimson a hiding place bring
Full of a dangerous rhyme
The gate opens like a maw, wide, dark
And stepping forth a long-legged man
Strikes the lady; the red flower falls into the mud
Full of a dangerous crime
She knows now that her time has met its mark
She weeps like a late ocean, far too late
Alas, the tears are water not, but blood
Full of a dangerous time
The Last Post on Pirates (for this week)
Soooooooooo...
The first thing that I will say is that the movie was very, er, long. Also, I could not explain the plot to someone who had not seen the movie, not in a million years. It's one of those live-in-the-moment-do-not-blink-or-you-may-die movies.
The preface to the movie was Jason making googly eyes in my direction and intoning solemnly,
"And when you reach into the popcorn bucket at the same time - and your fingers touch..."
I snorted.
"Popcorn? At $45 for a bucket? Give me a break."
Miss Kristyn drove us there. I asked her if I should sit shotgun, or should get into the back.
"Get into the back," she said, "and Julien will sit there with you. I will be your chauffeur."
He got into the back seat with a questioning look in his eyes. I rolled mine.
"The chauffeur says that we should sit together, this being our first date." He nodded, with the look of one to whom all things are made clear.
MK also coached me firmly that under no circumstances was I to pay for anything.
"If my son takes you out, he takes you out."
As soon as J. and I got into the theater, we breathed out deeply and looked at each other with rather desperate glances.
"You think it's always going to be like this?"
I laughed, one of those sardonic ones.
"With parents like ours? Now come, come, don't be so dismal," I said, hooking my arm through his and batting my eyelashes. "This is, after all, our first date."
As to the movie, well... I'll have to do one of my famous lists.
1) It was full of slimy things
2) They took the biggest things that they could think of - and made them BIGGER (Calypso, the neirid-turned-sea goddess; the pirate meeting; KING of the pirates; KEEPER of the Code)
3) The code looked like somebody's vacation scrapbook.
4) Morgan and Bartholomew both resembled Dumbledore
5) Very impressed by the abstinence of Will and Elizabeth until AFTER they were married; a thing you don't see too often. I will not comment on their marriage's legality, because I'm not sure what the statutes are if the ship's captain who is marrying you has died once before.
6) Beckett's death was the BEST death of a villain, hands-down, that I have ever seen
7) Jack Davenport's death was most sad, though we knew it had to happen. Also, his kissing of Elizabeth shocked Julien thoroughly. He soon came round - the man was going to DIE. Though I must say, Knightly has gone around kissing strange people far too often.
8) LOVED the look on Jack's face when Will died. Perhaps the best part of the movie.
9) Elizabeth is an idiot.
10) Best wedding I've ever seen. When Will asked Elizabeth to marry him, and they have that stop-and-start conversation, J. and I both thought the same thing. I said it:
"They kept putting off and putting off that conversation. Now look what happened."
11) Never quite got the significance of the singing lad. Tra-la-la, and all that.
12) LOVED the eyeball. Absolutely adored the eyeball. Knew about the beads on the kerchief already; knew about the green stone on the string already. Knew, of course, that Tia Dalma was Calypso, though in real life, Calypso is only a neirid, not a goddess.
13) Making Calypso grow and grow could have been done much more imaginatively. Liked the crabs; both rock and otherwise.
14) I did stay all through the credits and saw the bit at the end. I don't know if it was worth seeing all those names - (Bob Wilcox is JOHNNY DEPP'S LIMO DRIVER! MY HERO!) - but it was pretty interesting (she had NOT aged ten years; no WAY)
Afterwards, Julien asked me if I wanted to movie hop and go see another one. I almost kicked him (this is at 10:00 at night, remember).
So we went and found the parental people and sat in the back seat of the car and were chauffeured and held hands and waited to see what Mom would do when she saw us (nothing; like I said, she's been planning our wedding for years), and rolled our eyes goodnight.
That was the end of the First Date.
PS: Speaking of holding hands, that reminds me of a story that I've never told you: on our way home from the Renaissance Faire, this must have been what, November or something, J. and I were holding hands. This was back when we cared what people thought, and when my mom looked back to say something and saw us, she looked like she'd been shot. Her face turned pale and she turned back around. At the time, I was mortified. Now I find it extremely funny. Just thought I'd mention that, because, I don't know, I'm bored and there are no encounter forms to bill people's insurance for....
Oh well, back to work.
The first thing that I will say is that the movie was very, er, long. Also, I could not explain the plot to someone who had not seen the movie, not in a million years. It's one of those live-in-the-moment-do-not-blink-or-you-may-die movies.
The preface to the movie was Jason making googly eyes in my direction and intoning solemnly,
"And when you reach into the popcorn bucket at the same time - and your fingers touch..."
I snorted.
"Popcorn? At $45 for a bucket? Give me a break."
Miss Kristyn drove us there. I asked her if I should sit shotgun, or should get into the back.
"Get into the back," she said, "and Julien will sit there with you. I will be your chauffeur."
He got into the back seat with a questioning look in his eyes. I rolled mine.
"The chauffeur says that we should sit together, this being our first date." He nodded, with the look of one to whom all things are made clear.
MK also coached me firmly that under no circumstances was I to pay for anything.
"If my son takes you out, he takes you out."
As soon as J. and I got into the theater, we breathed out deeply and looked at each other with rather desperate glances.
"You think it's always going to be like this?"
I laughed, one of those sardonic ones.
"With parents like ours? Now come, come, don't be so dismal," I said, hooking my arm through his and batting my eyelashes. "This is, after all, our first date."
As to the movie, well... I'll have to do one of my famous lists.
1) It was full of slimy things
2) They took the biggest things that they could think of - and made them BIGGER (Calypso, the neirid-turned-sea goddess; the pirate meeting; KING of the pirates; KEEPER of the Code)
3) The code looked like somebody's vacation scrapbook.
4) Morgan and Bartholomew both resembled Dumbledore
5) Very impressed by the abstinence of Will and Elizabeth until AFTER they were married; a thing you don't see too often. I will not comment on their marriage's legality, because I'm not sure what the statutes are if the ship's captain who is marrying you has died once before.
6) Beckett's death was the BEST death of a villain, hands-down, that I have ever seen
7) Jack Davenport's death was most sad, though we knew it had to happen. Also, his kissing of Elizabeth shocked Julien thoroughly. He soon came round - the man was going to DIE. Though I must say, Knightly has gone around kissing strange people far too often.
8) LOVED the look on Jack's face when Will died. Perhaps the best part of the movie.
9) Elizabeth is an idiot.
10) Best wedding I've ever seen. When Will asked Elizabeth to marry him, and they have that stop-and-start conversation, J. and I both thought the same thing. I said it:
"They kept putting off and putting off that conversation. Now look what happened."
11) Never quite got the significance of the singing lad. Tra-la-la, and all that.
12) LOVED the eyeball. Absolutely adored the eyeball. Knew about the beads on the kerchief already; knew about the green stone on the string already. Knew, of course, that Tia Dalma was Calypso, though in real life, Calypso is only a neirid, not a goddess.
13) Making Calypso grow and grow could have been done much more imaginatively. Liked the crabs; both rock and otherwise.
14) I did stay all through the credits and saw the bit at the end. I don't know if it was worth seeing all those names - (Bob Wilcox is JOHNNY DEPP'S LIMO DRIVER! MY HERO!) - but it was pretty interesting (she had NOT aged ten years; no WAY)
Afterwards, Julien asked me if I wanted to movie hop and go see another one. I almost kicked him (this is at 10:00 at night, remember).
So we went and found the parental people and sat in the back seat of the car and were chauffeured and held hands and waited to see what Mom would do when she saw us (nothing; like I said, she's been planning our wedding for years), and rolled our eyes goodnight.
That was the end of the First Date.
PS: Speaking of holding hands, that reminds me of a story that I've never told you: on our way home from the Renaissance Faire, this must have been what, November or something, J. and I were holding hands. This was back when we cared what people thought, and when my mom looked back to say something and saw us, she looked like she'd been shot. Her face turned pale and she turned back around. At the time, I was mortified. Now I find it extremely funny. Just thought I'd mention that, because, I don't know, I'm bored and there are no encounter forms to bill people's insurance for....
Oh well, back to work.
Jun 14, 2007
Pirates Again
You know, I think that I may actually post more about being excited about going to see pirates than I will actually write about the movie itself. Seriously, though, everyone can look up a movie review on their own. Not many people know what I think about actually going to see this movie.
Hannah, my friend who moved to Florida a couple of years ago, (and Hannah is pronounced the Jewish way, I'll have you know, Honnah) is coming for a visit tomorrow, and we are going to go and see the Blancons together - which will be quite interesting. When I mentioned that she was coming for a visit, Jason said,
"Well, that's it. You've never had competition before. She's totally going to steal Julien from you."
"No, I don't think so," I said, "though she does have this weird crush on him. Weird, because she's sixteen."
"Aha! He's practically her boyfriend already!" shouted Jason.
"[snort] Yeah, right," interjected my mother, "I don't think competition will be a problem for Sarah."
"Why, exactly, do you think that, Mother?" I inquired, but my question was never answered.
I never thought that it would be so much trouble to see this movie. We scheduled it for Sunday (baseball). We scheduled it for Wednesday (Blancons in Narberth). Now, after much whiffling, it has remained at Thursday for a little while. I am going to see it - if nothing ELSE happens - at 7 o' clock this evening.
Julien was supposed to look up the movie times on the internet, but looked up paintball gear instead. Miss Kristyn apologized mortifiedly.
"I'm SO sorry!" she said, looking puppy-doggish, "he really DOES care. But he's young yet." I went inside the house, fell over, and laughed hysterically.
Miss Kristyn is very concerned that Julien does not show me enough attention. She emailed me as pertaining to this issue, and I discussed it with the hapless J. It went something like this:
"Julien," I said, "you don't show me enough attention." A stare from the boy, who spends practically every spare minute with me.
"What?" he asked.
"Your mother says that you don't pay enough attention to me," I stated imperiously. "Here are my demands: flowers, chocolates, cards on Valentine's Day, little notes including the words 'love' and 'forever', and Public Displays of Affection."
He almost died of heart failure before a giggle gave me away.
"Seriously, though," I said, when we had finished laughing, "I'll be working on Thursdays and Fridays until 5pm all summer long. We need to figure out something, because going straight from seeing you four days a week to two days a week may kill me." (I didn't say it just like that, but along those lines.)
To my slight surprise, he acquiesced.
All that to say, I have to go. Work is calling.
Hannah, my friend who moved to Florida a couple of years ago, (and Hannah is pronounced the Jewish way, I'll have you know, Honnah) is coming for a visit tomorrow, and we are going to go and see the Blancons together - which will be quite interesting. When I mentioned that she was coming for a visit, Jason said,
"Well, that's it. You've never had competition before. She's totally going to steal Julien from you."
"No, I don't think so," I said, "though she does have this weird crush on him. Weird, because she's sixteen."
"Aha! He's practically her boyfriend already!" shouted Jason.
"[snort] Yeah, right," interjected my mother, "I don't think competition will be a problem for Sarah."
"Why, exactly, do you think that, Mother?" I inquired, but my question was never answered.
I never thought that it would be so much trouble to see this movie. We scheduled it for Sunday (baseball). We scheduled it for Wednesday (Blancons in Narberth). Now, after much whiffling, it has remained at Thursday for a little while. I am going to see it - if nothing ELSE happens - at 7 o' clock this evening.
Julien was supposed to look up the movie times on the internet, but looked up paintball gear instead. Miss Kristyn apologized mortifiedly.
"I'm SO sorry!" she said, looking puppy-doggish, "he really DOES care. But he's young yet." I went inside the house, fell over, and laughed hysterically.
Miss Kristyn is very concerned that Julien does not show me enough attention. She emailed me as pertaining to this issue, and I discussed it with the hapless J. It went something like this:
"Julien," I said, "you don't show me enough attention." A stare from the boy, who spends practically every spare minute with me.
"What?" he asked.
"Your mother says that you don't pay enough attention to me," I stated imperiously. "Here are my demands: flowers, chocolates, cards on Valentine's Day, little notes including the words 'love' and 'forever', and Public Displays of Affection."
He almost died of heart failure before a giggle gave me away.
"Seriously, though," I said, when we had finished laughing, "I'll be working on Thursdays and Fridays until 5pm all summer long. We need to figure out something, because going straight from seeing you four days a week to two days a week may kill me." (I didn't say it just like that, but along those lines.)
To my slight surprise, he acquiesced.
All that to say, I have to go. Work is calling.
Jun 8, 2007
Pirates of the Caribbean (and sundry facts)
Curse of the Black Pearl:
Saw it at home on DVD in the den by myself. I was expecting to be scared, but pleasantly, wasn't.
Dead Man's Chest:
Saw it in theaters with Cole, Pascal, Thom and Jenny. It was really quite overwhelming (Pascal covered Cole's eyes for some of it).
At World's End:
Want to go see it with Julien on Sunday. See, that's the thing; everybody around me is planning our wedding. Kristyn has been totally on J's back to take me "out". Pascal has been encouraging this for years. Jenny and Aunt Martha call him my boyfriend.
Sob. It's just a movie, people. I swear by the sun god it is not a date.
Oh waaaaaaaaait... two teens going to see a movie.
Oh yeah! It IS a date!
But what will I wear?
Hee hee. Don't freak out. I was being sarcastic. Still, it will be nice to go see it with him, if he can take ONE afternoon off from baseball! Sigh. This is the story of my life: boys. I know, I know, it would be even worse if they weren't there.
Oh! I forgot to mention!
I got the boys the coolest presents in Seattle.
Thom: Pirate T-shirt that says "Same Ship, Different Day: Pillage and Plunder".
Cole: Pirate T-shirt that says "Hi, my name is Roger and I'll be flogging you today".
Julien: Pirate T-shirt that says "The beatings will continue until morale improves".
I like Seattle, but I'll be glad to be home.
Saw it at home on DVD in the den by myself. I was expecting to be scared, but pleasantly, wasn't.
Dead Man's Chest:
Saw it in theaters with Cole, Pascal, Thom and Jenny. It was really quite overwhelming (Pascal covered Cole's eyes for some of it).
At World's End:
Want to go see it with Julien on Sunday. See, that's the thing; everybody around me is planning our wedding. Kristyn has been totally on J's back to take me "out". Pascal has been encouraging this for years. Jenny and Aunt Martha call him my boyfriend.
Sob. It's just a movie, people. I swear by the sun god it is not a date.
Oh waaaaaaaaait... two teens going to see a movie.
Oh yeah! It IS a date!
But what will I wear?
Hee hee. Don't freak out. I was being sarcastic. Still, it will be nice to go see it with him, if he can take ONE afternoon off from baseball! Sigh. This is the story of my life: boys. I know, I know, it would be even worse if they weren't there.
Oh! I forgot to mention!
I got the boys the coolest presents in Seattle.
Thom: Pirate T-shirt that says "Same Ship, Different Day: Pillage and Plunder".
Cole: Pirate T-shirt that says "Hi, my name is Roger and I'll be flogging you today".
Julien: Pirate T-shirt that says "The beatings will continue until morale improves".
I like Seattle, but I'll be glad to be home.
Mar 21, 2007
I almost cried as I read this...
Twilight on Sixth Avenue at Ninth Street
by Charles G. D. Roberts
Over the tops of the houses
by Charles G. D. Roberts
Over the tops of the houses
Twilight and sunset meet.
The green, diaphanous dusk
The green, diaphanous dusk
Sinks to the eager street.
Astray in the tangle of roofs
Wanders a wind of June.
The dial shines in the clock-tower
Like the face of a strange-scrawled moon.
The narrowing lines of the houses
Palely begin to gleam,
And the hurrying crowds fade softly
Like an army in a dream.
Above the vanishing faces
A phantom train flares on
With a voice that shakes the shadows, --
Diminishes, and is gone.
And I walk with the journeying throng
In such a solitude
As where a lonely ocean
Washes a lonely wood.
Mar 17, 2007
The Futile Struggle
I have just been a witness to what may have been one of the funniest things of all mankind. Isaiah has been struggling to put down the footrest on our couch for about five minutes. It is not working. I laughed so hard...
Wales
What's been a big theme this week? Wales, Celts, Welsh. That's right, the place that the Celtic knot came from. But more than that, it's the home of plenty of lovely myths, legends, and an absolutely fascinating language, where one of the words for hello is "Cyfarchion". Can you imagine saying that every time you saw an acquaintance? Not only that, but the word for water is "dwfr". Actually, there are a lot of words in the Welsh dictionary that have no vowels, and even more that have only on vowel: y. Y is an extremely popular letter in the Welsh language.
Wales, or Cymru, in its native language, is southeast of the United Kingdom. It is bordered on one side by England, and the rest by seas … lots and lots of water. Wales is an extremely cultural country, proud of its heritage (Cymru means land of compatriots in Old Welsh). Though Welsh is a beautiful language, only 27% of Welshmen are able speak it today, the official language of Wales being English.
Welsh mythology – which I have become somewhat of an expert on – includes fascinating creatures such as gwyllion, gwyllgi, fachen and many other unpronounceable creatures. The Welsh social system in ancient times mostly consisted of kings, nobles, tenant peasants, and slaves. Odd Welsh foods are things like bread made from seaweed.
The most interesting thing about Wales is its mystery. There doesn't seem to be much about it that people really know. It's all speculation.
I was drawn to Wales a while ago, when I first read the Black Cauldron, and after that, the other Prydain Chronicles. Lloyd Alexander, the author, was strongly influenced by Welsh culture, naming his characters Gwydion, Gurgi and Eilonwy, and other Welsh-sounding names. I continued my slight interest after reading about Eowyn and Eomer from the Lord of the Rings Trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien, and rather feebly attempted to incorporate Welsh culture into my "elven" languages, created completely from scratch… and rather in a hurry. Back then, my comprehension of "Welsh" stopped at "the word has a lot of Y's".
It wasn't until a couple of days ago that I realized what Lloyd Alexander and his compatriots from the Prydain Chronicles had been trying to show me all along – that the Welsh culture had more to offer me than I had ever imagined. And, at the risk of being a copycat, I set out to Welshify everything I had created.
Wales is a country of shadows and guesswork. No one knows how fascinating it is until you have been captured by it.
Also, the country's flag has a dragon on it. How much cooler is there?
l'histoire de l'autobus (The Bus Story)
Yesterday was the day that I took the bus from the office to the Blancon's on my own for the first time. I was a little nervous, but not really. After all, the two things I feared most happening to me on a bus were an accident and a changing of the route so that I couldn't find my stop, and I had had an accident on a bus the last time I rode one. The chances of a route change were almost nil. What was there to fear?
I waited for the bus for about 15 minutes, which felt much longer, in a very painful hailstorm. I was inordinately grateful for my scarf, which I pulled up over my face like a stripy bandit's mask. I got on, casually dropped my token into the little thing like I had been doing it all my life, and took a seat. I was glad of a chance to get warm.
As we neared the apex of a hill, the bus began to slide backward. The whole bus went, "OoooooowOOOOaaaahhhh...." as we picked up speed and then stopped. And then slid backwards and then stopped. Finally, we managed to inch our way to the top of the hill, and then slid down in the dirty mush on the road. I let out my breath and thanked God profusely.
My trials were not over. We stopped at a corner so that the driver could talk to a man whose unintelligible babbling communicated that there had been an accident at the corner of Greene and Johson... O, that fated corner, where a car had been rammed into the back of my bus so many weeks previously. This caused the bus driver to... yes, that's right... CHANGE THE ROUTE.
I muddled my way through, asked questions, and walked a few blocks, and eventually showed up at the door of that dear carriage house. I was calm and collected, and did not panic nor did I cry or faint. A year ago, perhaps, I would not have been so cool in the face of adversity, but I think I did pretty well, under the circumstances.
So, everything has happened to me that I worried about... now what have I to fear?
I waited for the bus for about 15 minutes, which felt much longer, in a very painful hailstorm. I was inordinately grateful for my scarf, which I pulled up over my face like a stripy bandit's mask. I got on, casually dropped my token into the little thing like I had been doing it all my life, and took a seat. I was glad of a chance to get warm.
As we neared the apex of a hill, the bus began to slide backward. The whole bus went, "OoooooowOOOOaaaahhhh...." as we picked up speed and then stopped. And then slid backwards and then stopped. Finally, we managed to inch our way to the top of the hill, and then slid down in the dirty mush on the road. I let out my breath and thanked God profusely.
My trials were not over. We stopped at a corner so that the driver could talk to a man whose unintelligible babbling communicated that there had been an accident at the corner of Greene and Johson... O, that fated corner, where a car had been rammed into the back of my bus so many weeks previously. This caused the bus driver to... yes, that's right... CHANGE THE ROUTE.
I muddled my way through, asked questions, and walked a few blocks, and eventually showed up at the door of that dear carriage house. I was calm and collected, and did not panic nor did I cry or faint. A year ago, perhaps, I would not have been so cool in the face of adversity, but I think I did pretty well, under the circumstances.
So, everything has happened to me that I worried about... now what have I to fear?
Mar 16, 2007
Rachel
This morning, she said to Jenny as Jenny was getting dressed:
"Don't put that on. I won't want you to wear that."
Jenny was donning a blue vest, and said the equivelent of "tough cookies, kid". But still Rachel persisted.
"Don't wear that! Don't WEAR that!" Finally, Jenny inquired as to quoi, exactly, she didn't want her to wear that.
"Because it doesn't have a hood to keep you eeoos wohm."
Mar 13, 2007
A prayer
There are painful things happening.
God have mercy.
God give us wisdom and strength and comfort. We are most certainly under attack; there has never been a time when the guns are so trained on us as they are now. I can feel it in the very air, a darkness, a cloud that is waiting on the outskirts. Then it rolls quickly over the sun, and we are struck.
There is a multitude crushing down upon us, we all feel it. As we meet on Sundays, we pray that it will lift, we hold each other up, we know what it is to be in a battle. There is no faint nor inapplicable battle, there is no battle that will come, nor a battle that will pass us by. There is a battle now, that we live in, and that we must be prepared for. We must put on "the armor of light" (Romans 13:12).
As noticed by a new member of our group, the only part of us not protected by the holy armor is our back. Therefore, we are not meant to run, but to stand, face the trial and fight. "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7.
God give us the strength to pass through this with marks, but marks of our battle, not of despair. "Less like scars, more like character".
And let our battle cry ring out so that Satan will see that we are not afraid of him.
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
2 Corinthians 4:8-9
God have mercy.
God give us wisdom and strength and comfort. We are most certainly under attack; there has never been a time when the guns are so trained on us as they are now. I can feel it in the very air, a darkness, a cloud that is waiting on the outskirts. Then it rolls quickly over the sun, and we are struck.
There is a multitude crushing down upon us, we all feel it. As we meet on Sundays, we pray that it will lift, we hold each other up, we know what it is to be in a battle. There is no faint nor inapplicable battle, there is no battle that will come, nor a battle that will pass us by. There is a battle now, that we live in, and that we must be prepared for. We must put on "the armor of light" (Romans 13:12).
As noticed by a new member of our group, the only part of us not protected by the holy armor is our back. Therefore, we are not meant to run, but to stand, face the trial and fight. "For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7.
God give us the strength to pass through this with marks, but marks of our battle, not of despair. "Less like scars, more like character".
And let our battle cry ring out so that Satan will see that we are not afraid of him.
We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
2 Corinthians 4:8-9
Mar 7, 2007
Brilliant, Holmes!
I just had two perfectly peachy ideas!
One: I could write a curriculum for the Sunday school! Not that it will interest, but nothing ever does.
Two: I had a bloody brilliant idea! I want to be a columnist at some point, and then I had the idea of: why shouldn't I? Therefore, I am starting an online newspaper, with twice-weekly columns from my life, news items, and hopefully! portions from contributing writers and reporters! Here's the deal: Anyone who wants to participate should email me at quillsinc@gmail.com, and I'll review your piece for the paper!
[A chuckle of glee]
Also, please pass the word around to everybody you know... and this means you, Sarah Bee, I know you're reading this!
One: I could write a curriculum for the Sunday school! Not that it will interest, but nothing ever does.
Two: I had a bloody brilliant idea! I want to be a columnist at some point, and then I had the idea of: why shouldn't I? Therefore, I am starting an online newspaper, with twice-weekly columns from my life, news items, and hopefully! portions from contributing writers and reporters! Here's the deal: Anyone who wants to participate should email me at quillsinc@gmail.com, and I'll review your piece for the paper!
[A chuckle of glee]
Also, please pass the word around to everybody you know... and this means you, Sarah Bee, I know you're reading this!
Hello again
I feel like such an ass for not writing for so long. Of course, what am I to do? There is just so much else to be done.
1. I've been going on an aggressive forward movement to broaden my tastes and horizons. I've been learning about punk rock, and classic rock like the Rolling Stones and all those ancients.
2. I've had about two billion babysitting jobs, and two new clients.
3. School has been like a lawnmower on my head
4. I've got a secret... and I'm going to put it somewhere where no one will ever find it.... mwahahahaha! ( P.S. It's not of a romantic nature, because that would be REALLY gross... I mean, in the mushy sense of gross. I don't DO romantic)
5. Oh wait, there is no five.
1. I've been going on an aggressive forward movement to broaden my tastes and horizons. I've been learning about punk rock, and classic rock like the Rolling Stones and all those ancients.
2. I've had about two billion babysitting jobs, and two new clients.
3. School has been like a lawnmower on my head
4. I've got a secret... and I'm going to put it somewhere where no one will ever find it.... mwahahahaha! ( P.S. It's not of a romantic nature, because that would be REALLY gross... I mean, in the mushy sense of gross. I don't DO romantic)
5. Oh wait, there is no five.
Feb 17, 2007
Poem in a Book
I just read a really good book and thought of this quick, unrhyming poem:
In shallowness, hints of something deeper
In sweetness, hints of something richer
In prettiness, hints of something beautiful
In whispers, hints of something truer
In pleasure, hints of joy
In a bud, hints of the passion of the rose
In shallowness, hints of something deeper
In sweetness, hints of something richer
In prettiness, hints of something beautiful
In whispers, hints of something truer
In pleasure, hints of joy
In a bud, hints of the passion of the rose
A rather lengthy study of boys
Most of yesterday, and most of today, in fact, for a very long time, I was surrounded by boys. They were boys of different shapes, sizes, colors and dispositions, but one fact remained in the equation: they were ALL boys! Every single one of them. And they all hate me. Now, they can't really help it, I suppose, and they put up with me a good deal. But it is rather hard for me to be surrounded by people who are so sure that you will never understand them that they never tell you anything, or who think they know exactly what you're thinking or you're like when they simply don't. Girls and boys can be easily, oh, so easily, categorized and made generic. We have many of the same tendencies as others of our gender. But we are also extremely different, and though we know that, it's often difficult to apply it.
I'm afraid I've made rather a study of the boys in my life. I want to know how their minds work, how they process things, and what they are processing (and sometimes when I've found out, I think that I would rather not have known!) I try very hard not to be generic or categorized, so that they will be able to have a sense that girls can be as wide and varied as boys. As this has not worked so far, I must assume that we are not wide and varied... so then, where are we? The thought processes are sometimes frustrating.
And from my personal experience? Well, I've found out many things about boys that I don't think I would ever have known... but now, I don't think how I could ever have lived without some of the knowledge that I now possess. In a mysterious sort of way, I see what I must have known all along: that understanding boys and girls is a journey which never ends. That, in its own way, is disappointing, for it means that one will always be doing or saying the wrong thing, for you will never truly understand the opposite gender.
And don't even get me started on feelings! This is true for most boys: showing feelings is a sign of weakness - I don't say it to be derogatory, or to suggest that they should start taking Tai Chi or anything, but simply because it is true. But there is nothing which boys shudder from so vigorously as weakness, and there is nothing that they despair of so much as the pursuit of vulnerability - which, in essence, is the key to healthy relationships. What are you left with? A race of creatures who would prefer not so much to be in relationship with one another, but to interact in such a way as to be able to leave the relationship, or interaction, perfectly unscathed. This is an instinct which is within all of us, but men have developed and have a stronger feeling of it than women.
Weakness - ah! That is a thing, which, alone, will make a boy shudder and draw the curtains. No one must have weakness, and if one has it, one must not show it. Weakness, vulnerability, will leave them literally open to attack. Boys are very war-minded! It is them against the world! Do you remember all the theories about world peace and one unified society? Let me tell you now that it was no male mind who conjured up these images. Men our the warriors of our race, the trailblazers of our people. They will stride forward not because it makes sense or because they will get something out of it, but because they need to prove their worth. Win respect.
Respect is another thing that you should never get me started on. The key word to understanding both men and boys is RESPECT. If they have that, then you have something. Do not love them, do not cherish them, but give them their respect. Do not agree with them, do not coddle them, but give them their respect! Again, I do not say this because it is a bad thing, but simply because it is true.
So where are we left? At a crossroads. We (I mean, of course, I) wish to respect the boys and be respected by them. How must I do this? By not making a fool of myself. Ever. And how does one make a fool of oneself? Display weakness. And, if I may be so daring as to ask, how does one display weakness?
Feelings.
Ah, now we have hit it! This is, indeed, the rub! In my mind, I will not have a relationship with someone until I and he or she have displayed some measure of vulnerability. Only then can we even BEGIN to know a person. However, BECAUSE BOYS DO NOT HAVE THE INTEGRAL NEED FOR MULTIPLE "MEANINGFUL" RELATIONSHIPS THAT WOMEN DO, THEY WILL NOT RISK THEIR RESPECT BY BEING VULNERABLE.
And every girl who has ever gotten frustrated trying to "get through" to a boy will know just what I am talking about.
So, class have we learned something today?
I dunno. I get the feeling that we are right back where we started, with one more layer to protect us from displaying vulnerability.
I'm afraid I've made rather a study of the boys in my life. I want to know how their minds work, how they process things, and what they are processing (and sometimes when I've found out, I think that I would rather not have known!) I try very hard not to be generic or categorized, so that they will be able to have a sense that girls can be as wide and varied as boys. As this has not worked so far, I must assume that we are not wide and varied... so then, where are we? The thought processes are sometimes frustrating.
And from my personal experience? Well, I've found out many things about boys that I don't think I would ever have known... but now, I don't think how I could ever have lived without some of the knowledge that I now possess. In a mysterious sort of way, I see what I must have known all along: that understanding boys and girls is a journey which never ends. That, in its own way, is disappointing, for it means that one will always be doing or saying the wrong thing, for you will never truly understand the opposite gender.
And don't even get me started on feelings! This is true for most boys: showing feelings is a sign of weakness - I don't say it to be derogatory, or to suggest that they should start taking Tai Chi or anything, but simply because it is true. But there is nothing which boys shudder from so vigorously as weakness, and there is nothing that they despair of so much as the pursuit of vulnerability - which, in essence, is the key to healthy relationships. What are you left with? A race of creatures who would prefer not so much to be in relationship with one another, but to interact in such a way as to be able to leave the relationship, or interaction, perfectly unscathed. This is an instinct which is within all of us, but men have developed and have a stronger feeling of it than women.
Weakness - ah! That is a thing, which, alone, will make a boy shudder and draw the curtains. No one must have weakness, and if one has it, one must not show it. Weakness, vulnerability, will leave them literally open to attack. Boys are very war-minded! It is them against the world! Do you remember all the theories about world peace and one unified society? Let me tell you now that it was no male mind who conjured up these images. Men our the warriors of our race, the trailblazers of our people. They will stride forward not because it makes sense or because they will get something out of it, but because they need to prove their worth. Win respect.
Respect is another thing that you should never get me started on. The key word to understanding both men and boys is RESPECT. If they have that, then you have something. Do not love them, do not cherish them, but give them their respect. Do not agree with them, do not coddle them, but give them their respect! Again, I do not say this because it is a bad thing, but simply because it is true.
So where are we left? At a crossroads. We (I mean, of course, I) wish to respect the boys and be respected by them. How must I do this? By not making a fool of myself. Ever. And how does one make a fool of oneself? Display weakness. And, if I may be so daring as to ask, how does one display weakness?
Feelings.
Ah, now we have hit it! This is, indeed, the rub! In my mind, I will not have a relationship with someone until I and he or she have displayed some measure of vulnerability. Only then can we even BEGIN to know a person. However, BECAUSE BOYS DO NOT HAVE THE INTEGRAL NEED FOR MULTIPLE "MEANINGFUL" RELATIONSHIPS THAT WOMEN DO, THEY WILL NOT RISK THEIR RESPECT BY BEING VULNERABLE.
And every girl who has ever gotten frustrated trying to "get through" to a boy will know just what I am talking about.
So, class have we learned something today?
I dunno. I get the feeling that we are right back where we started, with one more layer to protect us from displaying vulnerability.
Feb 14, 2007
Kiss
HE'S DONE IT! SHANA KISSED RAPIER! IT'S ALL OVER!
Oh, I'm so excited. He kisses her right there, in a dark corner... And what she says to him afterwards is so priceless that I just want to shake my own hand.
Oh, I'm so excited. He kisses her right there, in a dark corner... And what she says to him afterwards is so priceless that I just want to shake my own hand.
Update
Gangsta:
Oh, the plot gets even more devious! It's all so exciting! And though it now has a new title, I will always know it by the name Gangsta! On another note, it is still snowing! The plan was to go to a history thing at the Atwater Kent museum (oh torture in its purest form, as Pastrami would say) but fortunately, the excursion was canceled due to the snow (thank you, North Wind). At this point, I am berating myself for procrastinating. I guess I should stop, and get ON.
Oh, the plot gets even more devious! It's all so exciting! And though it now has a new title, I will always know it by the name Gangsta! On another note, it is still snowing! The plan was to go to a history thing at the Atwater Kent museum (oh torture in its purest form, as Pastrami would say) but fortunately, the excursion was canceled due to the snow (thank you, North Wind). At this point, I am berating myself for procrastinating. I guess I should stop, and get ON.
Feb 3, 2007
Weekend
Ahem:
I've
Watched two movies, The Devil Wears Prada, and Legally Blonde
Spent an evening chattering to a friend
Burned the tips of every single one of my fingers so that even now, the typing burns....
Eaten far too much ice cream
Eaten not enough popcorn because the microwave STOPPED WORKING!
Hoped and prayed that tomorrow, Superbowl Sunday, will turn out all right.
I am at babysitting, and the child is asleep, and I now go to watch a horror movie.
I've
Watched two movies, The Devil Wears Prada, and Legally Blonde
Spent an evening chattering to a friend
Burned the tips of every single one of my fingers so that even now, the typing burns....
Eaten far too much ice cream
Eaten not enough popcorn because the microwave STOPPED WORKING!
Hoped and prayed that tomorrow, Superbowl Sunday, will turn out all right.
I am at babysitting, and the child is asleep, and I now go to watch a horror movie.
Jan 23, 2007
Colds
If you would like to know how I feel today, please read this page:
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/common-cold/
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/common-cold/
Jan 22, 2007
School
I'm at school again. It seems old, though it is the second time that I've been to school in my life. Mayhap it is the school, mayhap it is me. I know one thing, however.
I will never have a change in my life as big as going to school.
Jan 17, 2007
Writing
How much more wonderful is writing
The words sprout on the page
When you do it in a passion
Perhaps even in a rage
How much more magical is writing
When your plot comes unbidden
You see the story that will be
The horse never been ridden
How much more lovely is writing
When in an ecstasy of joy
You write with all the purpleness
And frills you can employ
How much more fulfilling is writing
When done in careful love
When everything poured on the page
Can give your mind a shove
And MAKE it to imagine
All the things that you describe
And MAKE it to believe
All the words that you now scribe
The words sprout on the page
When you do it in a passion
Perhaps even in a rage
How much more magical is writing
When your plot comes unbidden
You see the story that will be
The horse never been ridden
How much more lovely is writing
When in an ecstasy of joy
You write with all the purpleness
And frills you can employ
How much more fulfilling is writing
When done in careful love
When everything poured on the page
Can give your mind a shove
And MAKE it to imagine
All the things that you describe
And MAKE it to believe
All the words that you now scribe
Jan 16, 2007
Running hard
Just when you're running so hard that you don't know if you can ever stop...
Just when you can't take anything more... anything worse...
Just when you're breaking from the hardness of life...
Just when you can't keep going...
God sends you tomorrow.
And you find you can.
Just when you can't take anything more... anything worse...
Just when you're breaking from the hardness of life...
Just when you can't keep going...
God sends you tomorrow.
And you find you can.
Jan 10, 2007
Jan 9, 2007
Thought
Oh silence like that moment on a cloud
Before we step off in a reverie
Oh poignance when you've finished and you've bowed
And you wonder, "Are the whole world's eyes on me?"
Oh beauty like that moment in a trance
Of passing, gloating splendor glowing bright
Oh waiting in that moment when by chance
Some passing miscreant turns out the light
Oh blooming in that moment of ideas
When all the world bursts forth a holy sooth
Oh tender splitting and peeling away fears
When first a soul can see the wholest truth
Oh moments like this great and small and slow
Are what makes this earth a home before we go
Before we step off in a reverie
Oh poignance when you've finished and you've bowed
And you wonder, "Are the whole world's eyes on me?"
Oh beauty like that moment in a trance
Of passing, gloating splendor glowing bright
Oh waiting in that moment when by chance
Some passing miscreant turns out the light
Oh blooming in that moment of ideas
When all the world bursts forth a holy sooth
Oh tender splitting and peeling away fears
When first a soul can see the wholest truth
Oh moments like this great and small and slow
Are what makes this earth a home before we go
Jan 8, 2007
Writing
When you put words onto paper, the most you can hope to convey is a shadow of the passion in your mind. The words that promised to give the meaning you have experienced or are searching for reveal themselves to be idle shams. Yet in this shadow, we can see the reflection of passion, the passing silhouette of a grand splendor. By using words to create a crude wooden frame, the imagination can emboss and finish until the doorway into another world is firmly made and we may step through it. To create this frame, this support structure for the imagination, may be one of the highest goals of mankind.
This is why we are writers.
This is why we are writers.
Jan 5, 2007
My First Day of Work... so far
Well, here I am, taking my lunch break, just like any other Joe at the workplace. Did filing all morning, took a coffee break, had coffee at my coffee break, and kept breaking the copy machine - all the wonderful workplace experiences in one convenient morning. I also did my school at my lunch break, so I shall have to scarf down my turkey wrap and clemantine. Well, must go and file some more - farewell for now, or, as they say in the workplace:
See ya tomorrow, Ted.
Jan 3, 2007
Christmas Stockings...
Guess what I got in my stocking this year? A travel mug. This, I suppose, was a subtle hint from Mom that I am to stop stealing hers. But it came blank and silver! So, of course, what I did next was perfectly natural - no one can blame me! I took a permanent marker and wrote, "Cremorna, Cremorna, Cremorna shall kill you in the end!" All over it. No one will mistake my mug for anyone else's!
Jan 2, 2007
Happy New Year! [Sound of cheap plastic horn being blown]
Well, it is 2007! What are your resolutions? Forgot to make 'em? That's terrible. Well, that's ok - I nearly did meself. But I remembered in time! Here they are, in their lovely entirety:
1) Hire Pascal to give me photography lessons
2) Get a move on with my voice lessons
3) Get a job at the office. I'm FOURTEEN now, you see.
4) Think seriously about taking drumming lessons
5) Think seriously about taking jazz dancing or breakdancing lessons (I know, sounds ludicrous, but I have always loved breakdancing. My grandmother concurs)
6) Save money for two main goals: A laptop and a camera
And that's it. Woo hoo.
1) Hire Pascal to give me photography lessons
2) Get a move on with my voice lessons
3) Get a job at the office. I'm FOURTEEN now, you see.
4) Think seriously about taking drumming lessons
5) Think seriously about taking jazz dancing or breakdancing lessons (I know, sounds ludicrous, but I have always loved breakdancing. My grandmother concurs)
6) Save money for two main goals: A laptop and a camera
And that's it. Woo hoo.
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