Greetings from Spockgirl Musings, where logic rules, but the frailties of
human nature, genetic inadequacies and hormonal imbalances wreak havoc.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Silent Voices...


A few years ago, I met a woman who, visiting the area with her young son, was searching for information regarding her grandparents. After an extremely long conversation standing outside on a blustery cold spring day, I went home and wrote the following:


Silent white blanket
Cold hands reach up from the Earth
Icy fingers touch

Ice on the window
a pale white face, sad brown eyes
Lost in the darkness

Whispers in the wind
Voices calling from the past
Do not forget us

Bow your head, look down
shake their hands, smile, look happy
Do not show them fear

Shuffle down the street
old man who lost everything
but who lost nothing

Weeping without tears
a smile without happiness
Dying without peace

Be calm in chaos
Accept defeat with a smile
Move on without fear

Forgive not forget
Find strength in adversity
Follow your feelings

Remember the past
Forgive those of ill and woe
Let Peace be your gift

Loss, sorrow, grief, tears
items locked within the heart
to weep from the grave

Light in the darkness
Hope shimmers in the moonlight
a voice to bring peace

Time shall pass and fade
memories of life entwined
Unspoken now heard.

cki
Mar 31 2008


The mechanics of my memory are mysterious to say the least. Somehow, I have managed to remember something from a specific day for which the memory itself does not revolve around music or food. The most amazing thing is that I remember the exact date to be March 31...  I thought it was two years ago, but somehow I lost a year. Anyways.... I recall that the first half or so just spilled out and the rest I wrote the next day. I hesitate to share it because it is without edit, which means... part of it I like and part of it I don't... but... I didn't think it right to change it now.

*****
Hmm.... I was looking at the last line from the poem and was thinking that this would be a great way to end my blog journey... but... I don't know if I am quite ready to venture off this road just yet. I suppose that I will have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Serendipity...


Does it seem that there are recurring themes as of late? Well... I think... yes, there are. Proceed here, and then get a load of this:

"Serendipity is right around the corner, waiting for you to bump into it. If you pause, say to try and scrape off some unspeakables from the bottom of your shoe, you might miss it. However, if you keep the unspeakable on your shoe and meet your serendipitous friend, the smell might be off-putting enough to close the deal. It's a funny old world."

With all the Twists and Turns on my journey here, the question of Providence or Coincidence had come up, but I had somehow forgotten their compatriot, Serendipity.

ser·en·dip·i·ty noun \ˌser-ən-ˈdi-pə-tē\
: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for

(Definition from Merriam-Webster dictionary)

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

What was, what is, what could be...


Further to another one of my fatigued sharing bits the other day as well as the previous post, I have made some rather startling discoveries about myself... Well, not really startling, but insightful nonetheless.

What I was...



Except I'm not a gay male puppet with a unibrow.


What I am now...




Except I'm not a big furry blue monster who has a hula hoop for a waistline.

What's trying to escape?



Well.. not exactly.

The burden of emptiness...


I've known for quite some time that I needed to put my existence on this planet back in order, but one question kept coming back to haunt me... What's the point? For whatever reason, in the past few years I was given time to examine and re-examine that very existence and its meaning... and found... that there was nothing. The odd thing is that, in the process of it all, I became at times, one with everything around me. It was in those moments, those precious moments, that I surrendered myself completely and became nothing amidst the all, in which I found total peace, but lost myself in it.

In my "previous" life, my only necessary course of action was to work, to get as much work done as possible... to work late, to get more done so that the next day there would be more time... more time to do more, more time to do the exact same thing again.... My days were, for the most part, full... but I think I always knew deep in my heart... that although my days were full... my life was empty. In retrospect, I now know that I saw glimmers of that emptiness when there were lulls... when the work load was less. It is funny, if you think about it, how emptiness can be a burden. I suppose if my soul was empty and I had no cognizant thought, the emptiness in life wouldn’t matter. Zero plus zero equals zero. What I could not articulate prior to this time is that when it came to a point that my days were no longer full... when my days themselves were empty... coupled with the fact that my life itself was empty... I ceased to function. I was no longer a cog, nor a wheel, or a gear... I ceased to rotate, I ceased to move, I ceased to shift... And all this whilst at the same time having no hopes or dreams or goals or aspirations ... What else could I do but cease to function?

I didn't want to see, or perhaps I couldn't accept, that I had squandered the last little bit of my usefulness helping someone who in the end, could only think of himself, but couldn’t help himself. What do I have to show for wasting half my life? Nothing... not one thing. The saddest part is that I don’t know how it could have been any other way. Things happen for a reason... But what happens when there is no reason left? When no avenue appears... when no new door opens.... when all that remains before you is a wall, and there is no turning back.

It was not my intent to share the burden of my inadequacies with anyone, let alone here. For that, I am sorry. I am tired... cold... empty... and I quietly whisper to myself something that I have a hard time admitting...  I want to give up.

ps:  I'll get over this... I get over everything. This just seems to be taking a little longer than usual.

Speaking of laughing...

What kind of monster am I?

You Are an Alien

You play well with: Zombies



Monday, March 28, 2011

A Trippy Universe...


I wasn't going to post this, but as it would appear that I have nothing... absolutely nothing else in my brain... I decided... what the heck. These strike me as hilariously odd considering a couple prior blogposts I had done.

If you will...  take a boo over to my Valentine's Day post and look at the caption I put under the image.

Now take a look at part of my "humour" horoscope for today:
"Love will no longer be just another four-letter-word to you today..."   Bwahahaha.

And... following on the lines of my "Ravenous" episode and several posts I have done on music as of late...

"Chunks of meat will plague you today...or give you the plague. The mystics are being terribly vague on this one. Many of the best lyrics are attributable today. Take into consideration that most songs are about love and adversity."

I think it is rather appropriate that it is the "twisted" humour horoscopes that bear resemblance to my existence, rather than the everyday garden variety newspaper ones. 

What would life be without something to laugh about.


Sunday, March 27, 2011

Just because...

Roses and Peonies from the garden last year.


Sunday funk


After my fatigued writing early this morning, a song came to mind which unfortunately I cannot post, but this one comes in a close second.
This is a song by yet another Canadian band, from the 90s this time... I had the pleasure of seeing them in concert shortly before they disbanded. I can't remember what year I saw them or much else for that matter... but I do know that it was at Edgefest...  and who I went with and that I had a hamburger afterwards. That's just the way my memory works.

Amiss... a mess...


Something is terribly amiss... perhaps the universe is running amok. But.. I think that would be too easy of an excuse.  Amiss, amok, askew, upside-down, topsy-turvy ... basically... a mess.  Only problem is that it is ... my mind ... in this predicament. It is almost as if the most important, essential parts of me have been slowly sucked out of my brain through a straw and there's almost nothing left. What I was, what I am and what I could be ... all becoming one... all fading away... all being lost. Apparently I am still slightly broken.  Heck... I did sleep earlier...  for two straight hours (out of seven), that seemed like an eternity.

Yes... I know I've said before that I shouldn't write emails or blogposts when I am lacking sleep... but I also feel that I have been lacking substance as of late...  so... I definitely shouldn't be sharing tonight.... er ... this morning. Oh well.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

This looks better than I thought it would...



This movie has been on the periphery of my radar for a while, but I hadn't really seen that much about it except that the super cutie Chris Evans (Fantastic Four, The Perfect Score, Cellular, etc.) was playing the main character. All I remember about Captain America from the comics was the outfit and the shield, but not much else as for backstory. Well... heck ... after seeing the trailer... it now officially goes under the "I can't wait" list.


Tomorrow


This song drifted back into my memory recently... and reminded me of a little boy that I never met.



Friday, March 25, 2011

From Hashbrowns to Whipped Cream...


After a very pleasant day playing hooky from my shop, I got back in time to open up for a couple hours. Fifteen minutes before the bank was to close, I realized that I had a bill to pay... usually due on the 28th day of each month. I just happened to decide to double-check and found that it was due today! I could do nothing other than close up and make a mad dash for the bank. I got my jacket and boots on, grabbed the keys and the purse.. ran out the door, down the steps and before heading off down the street, double-checked my purse to find that the bill was not in the purse. Ran back into the house, grabbed the envelope from the table and was off. Made it in five minutes at a rather brisk pace, with seven minutes to spare. 

*****
On the walk home, met up with big sis and gremlin1 and was handed a big piece of Pineapple Crunch dessert (Puff Pastry with a crackled sugar exterior and whipped cream and pineapple filling) from the bakery for a special treat to enjoy later.  

*****
Was treated to dinner with big sis, gremlin1 and gremlin2, by the aged father. I was thus able to fulfill my desire for Hashbrowns, together with an 8 oz. sirloin steak, scrambled eggs, buttered toast with grape jelly, ...  but... before I could finish, the restaurant owner came out with some of the staff singing Happy Birthday, carrying a rather large piece of dark chocolate cake with whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate syrup, garnished with two sparklers identifying my age, courtesy of gremlin1. I did finish my meal, however, needless to say, I was not quite capable of completing dessert. Even with assistance... there were three bites left... I just could not.  I was reminded of a rather disgusting scene from Monty Python's the Meaning of Life, if I am remembering correctly.  Ugh...

Oy...

When I woke up this morning, I felt like I had been hit by a bus.


An Irishman and a horse...


I remember when I was a little kid, my dad had country music records. Even then, I think I knew that country music wasn't my thing, but there are a few that stand out in my mind.... Johnny Cash, Hank Williams and Johnny Horton being the most favourable. Of these, only Johnny Horton seems to have been worthy of special remembrance, because, as I recall, his songs told stories... perhaps historical stories. One song in particular caught my fancy as a little girl... It was about a horse.... Comanche, the brave horse...  I remember that the horse hoof-beats sounded rather hokey, and I don't remember all the words, but the song is, for whatever reason, still here in my memory. 

A year ago, I think perhaps even before I started the blog, I had gone searching online for events that had happened on my birthday... deaths, births, disaster...  and in scrolling down a list, I clicked on several to read, but the only one that drew me in deeper was of one Irish Soldier, named Myles Keogh. I was intrigued, and subsequently somehow spellbound by his life... frankly, I was almost smitten.  I read whatever I could find online and was tempted to buy a couple books, but I couldn't justify the expense. Anyways, the more I learned about him, the more interesting he became.  Then one day I came across a most interesting piece of information. I already knew that he had fought in the American Civil War and that he had continued his life as a soldier, to eventually fight and die in the Battle of Little Bighorn.... Custer's Last Stand. What I found out afterwards is that Myles Keogh's horse..  his horse... that he rode as Captain of Company "I" ... that he rode one last time... into his last battle... was Comanche... that brave horse in a song that a little girl so many years ago remembers to this very day. I knew that Comanche had survived the battle, but what I didn't know is that he had been found on the battlefield wounded, and although common practice would have been to put him down, he was treated and nursed back to health. And... speaking of common practice...  it was common practice for the bodies of the enemy to be mutilated after battle, but for whatever reason, Myles' was not.  Tis a fascinating story indeed... and there is so much more which can be found here.  

March 25, 1840 - June 25, 1876


Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Joy of Yardwaste...


Two days of warm, sunny spring weather allowed me the opportunity to get outside and tidy up part of the garden and do some yardwork. I just realized that the four and a half hours outside yielded four and a half bags of pinecones, weeds and whatnots. It was great to be outside in the fresh air...  with the broom and rake and my trusty, but terribly bent up, worn out old weed-stick... to be playing in the dirt again. The bonus on both days was that I was afforded the simple pleasure of sitting down afterwards to enjoy just being in the warmth of the sun.  As I sit here typing this in the kitchen now, feeling slightly chilled, I can honestly say.... twas definitely warmer than in the house.

*****
Funny thing about just sitting down to enjoy the sun...  After working in the same office for so very many years, but not really socializing with anyone from work, even though I'd known them for years, one summer I was invited with my colleague to a BBQ at the boss' place. We went out to the house, sat down on the patio outside, the sun still shining ...  there was music playing, smoking, drinking, talking, and relaxing.  It was times like those that cemented the fact that I had very little in common with most of the people in my life... my life being my job.  I had things to do. I think I lasted a half hour, maybe  a whole hour...of not smoking, not drinking, not talking much, and not relaxing. Anyways... one of the boss' friends had to leave so I caught a ride back into town with him.  What did I do? I went back to the office to get some more work done. That was who I was. It was only after that life ended and I leapt into a realm of total uncertainty and financial worries of my own business that I actually took the time to enjoy the simple things, like sitting down and feeling the warmth of the sun, having conversations with people, allowing myself to be me. At that point, I had only one extra-large worry as opposed to several small and medium ones on a daily basis...  and that to me was a good trade-off.

*****
I actually accomplished something today... I actually have something to show for what I did. Even if it is just four and a half bags of yard-waste. It's still something.  And... bonus... this time I didn't accidentally pick up any dog poop mistaking it for pinecones.

I did it again...


Talking of brain malfunction and my inability to think and write, I have to wonder how I wrote that rather lengthy bit last night. Once again I find myself asking why? It is a little too open ... a little?... massive overshare is more like it.  I'd been thinking about it for a long time and I had started writing about it a few times, but I was never quite able to formulate or articulate the complete equation in my head...  For whatever reason, yestereve, with tired eyes and a foggy brain, it became clear... I wrote it... I posted it... and now with a tad more clarity, I fret about having done so....  Considering the equation and the outcome, I would have to say ... that damned 80s music made me do it.  And to that I have to throw my head back and laugh.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

One song...


There is one song that I distinctly recall having a profound effect on me when I first heard it... Not in any life altering way, but in a deeply moving way. At the time I know that I would not have been able to explain why, but now I think I can. Now I think I understand. The funny thing is that I remember specifically thinking after listening to it for the first time, that this song was it...  it was the be all and end all... there would never be another song like it.... ever.  Of course I was wrong, but ... that being said, there has not yet been a song that had such an effect on me that I would actually remember the details of the moment it hit me.

A short while ago, I began to explore the way my memory works, but I barely touched the surface. For the most part I ended up with more questions than answers. Listening once again to that one song, and revisiting other songs from the past in the last little while has somehow helped me to find some answers.

Yes, we all know that music is a form of expression. We know that music evokes emotion. However to me, music was much more than that. The music that I was drawn to, that became a part of me, that music expressed what I could not, or would not either feel or express. Someone else was feeling it, someone else was expressing it, and the music gave me an understanding of those feelings and emotions not present in this person. In looking back now at the long list of songs that I can remember from my youth, there are plenty of ballads and love songs, but the words were just icing smoothed over the music, and even then as now, I know that I would not want to eat the icing on its own. For a greater part of my life, music did not elicit an emotional response from me (sorry, I know that line was used by little Spock in Star Trek), but it did provide a flicker, a spark, or sputter... perhaps a twinge. I have no idea if this makes any sense at all, but it is how it is.... or was. 

Whether the music and lyrics were beautiful and romantic or sad, or loud and obnoxious and sometimes incomprehensible, I appreciated them for what they were and for their freedom of expression, or their expressiveness. If... and I say... if I happened to sing along with them, it didn't mean that I felt the same way.

What it boils down to is that what I was incapable of feeling or expressing, the music did for me... and that was sufficient.  For whatever reason, to my dismay, this has changed to some degree in the past year, as evidenced by something I wrote called "Metallica made me cry." I'm starting to get the feeling that I didn't feel anything because there was no reason to feel anything all these years... notwithstanding of course a couple major emotion inducing life events, but I was hoping I was done with those. Apparently though, as life drags on, it no longer has to be an event... a song can make me cry for crying out loud. Who knows what else lurks within.  Scary thought.

That one song:

My Inner Fruit?


I have been struggling for the past year with certain aspects of... everything... living, sleeping, eating, breathing (so to speak), and... as of late to a greater extent... thinking. To be blunt, I hadn't been doing much of any of these five basic, essential human functions.. or doing them properly. My brain is... for lack of a better word... malfunctioning. What I once was, in the first part of my life, was almost dead and buried, what I became in the next part has almost been obliterated in the span of three short years, and now... I'm just... scrambled. The only thing (other than music)...that has been keeping me somewhat together is  humour (and the peeps that provide it), and for that I am so very thankful. On that note, how could I pass up this dumb quiz, "What's your Inner Fruit Flavour?"

Your Inner Fruit Flavor is Apple


You are a late bloomer, and you may be coming into your own right now.
You follow your own path, and the turns you take are often unexpected and inspired.

You are goal driven but patient. You know that the journey is just as important as the destination.
You feel different from everyone else, and that's okay. You're happy to rock your own style.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Spew Factor...


I have noticed that the word spew and derivations thereof have come up recently in my mind and therefore on the blog as well as in conversations, which somehow lead to this quote, "... if you're going to spew, spew in this...", from Wayne's World.  If I recall correctly this was a hilarious spin-off of a Mike Myers (a Canadian!!!) and Dana Carvey skit from Saturday Night Live back in a time when I used to watch (considerably more) t.v.. One scene, or perhaps the only scene, that I remember from the 1992 movie was the one where Wayne and Garth are cruising around whilst listening to Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody".  Now... there is no way whatsoever that I would be writing this solely for the spew factor... or my appreciation of that song. So... I remember back in high school an old friend had a licence as well as access to her dad's used cars... one of which bore a remarkable resemblance to the one in that movie. I thought it was a Gremlin, but perhaps it was a Pacer... I'm not sure. So there we were, a group of "good girls" cruisin around a dead town with nothing better to do.... didn't really matter what kind of car we were in. Hmm... just one of those funny things I remembered by way of one little nudge to my noggin courtesy of one fine little imp.



Flummoxed...


I was worried that since I couldn’t fall asleep, I wouldn’t wake up to put the garbage out in time, as the new company that was hired by the town picks up earlier. Well... 3:15 AM... 4... 5... so at 5:59 still dark outside, got out of bed, got dressed, bagged up the garbage, took it outside, put it in the can.. took it to the street... noticed the neighbour didn’t have theirs out yet, but that's not unusual for this time of the morning. Went back in... puzzled at the day...looked at the calendar... still couldn’t figure out what day it was... went to the bedroom.. looked at cell phone...  went back to look at the calendar... looked again...OMG... WRONG DAY! Went back outside brought the garbage can back to the porch. Came inside rather flummoxed.

So... I feel dumb... but more time-disoriented, or out of sorts or out of whack or out of sync or lost in space. Granted, lying in bed at 3AM I could feel my body having a reaction to something I had eaten... stomach curdling and gurgling quietly, with the walls of my throat constricted or slightly swollen. However, normally when this happens, I don't forget what bloody day of the week it is!


Harkens back...

... to simpler times. When my hair was short and pouffy and sometimes spiked, and I wore weird clothes. Now I am wondering, because I can't remember it all, if the music of a wee Irish band is what got my 80s music journey started .... with a crush on the drummer. This band deserves a little more thought considering the impact it had on me, so I will simply start with this:
 

Monday, March 21, 2011

Funny how things keep popping up...



So....  I think this is rather... fitting and funny... considering my previous post which contained a massive piece of ... personal oversharing. This is from my "humour" horoscope" today:

"An email may arrive in your mailbox today informing you that a) You've won a competition b) You deserve a massive dong c) Someone in the office loves you. Fun times lie ahead but be wary of those who offer you fun via emails. You may find that some messages you see today will be misleading and potentially cost you a lot of money."

Proves the point... sometimes you just have to laugh... because there is just no other way to react.

And... on an interesting side note.... I went to check the mail at the Post Office and lo and behold... no bills....  and ... even better yet... I received a rebate from one of the utility companies...  Wow. Next thing you know...  who knows what could happen...  The other day I actually somehow AVOIDED stepping in dog poop. Go figure.

One Cup of Tea...


Today... I sat here marvelling at the pleasure of watching the tendrils of steam rise from my cup of tea.  I don't honestly know which is more amazing... that I sat down to drink something, or that I am actually drinking tea, or that I marvelled, or that I found pleasure in it. I'm not much of a tea drinker, but my cupboard is well-stocked with quite a variety. I suppose this is as much for the odd occasion when I used to have family over for dinner and the only way to keep them warm would be to offer them thick wool socks and a sweater, or boil up a pot of water for some hot tea. As I sit here in quiet contemplation, I notice that the steam has subsided and the tea is now merely warm, but so many thoughts have been conjured ... stirred up from that one simple moment.

*****
Earlier this morning I remembered the leftover fried chicken sitting in the fridge, of which I would have the joy of partaking today. At lunch, after thoroughly enjoying the drumstick, I picked up the thigh piece, or whatever it was, looked at it... and thought to myself.... I should save this for dinner. This one little reaction caused a wave of thoughts to come crashing into my mind...  one in succession after another... perhaps too quickly for me to process and remember. Then... I ate it.

I was thinking that perhaps this is how I have always been... to save things... to save things for later...  to save things so at least there would be something good left for later.  Just in case...

*****
My cup of Chai Green Tea to which I had added lavender honey for a sweet twist... is now cold. As I sit in the quiet stillness... I wonder... is it too late...  or is it even possible... to have something sweet and fun... in what is left of this life?

*****
Hmm...  It would appear that my brain-sharing filter or perhaps my emotion inhibitors must have been damaged ... by that damn cup of tea.


Deliverance...

No... not what you would expect.

This afternoon I was given free food... twice. Aged father brought me some Chinese, which, gratefully I promptly ate.. and subsequently felt .... nauseous... or something.  I've had that feeling many times before so I drank some water and some blueberry/pomegranate juice to wash it down. About an hour and a half later, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and a knock on the door.... Big sis brought me food TOO! Though, she had read my blogpost "I cannot sleep" and felt sorry for me. I'm rather glad she didn't take everything literally ("I want to die.") Well.... I got me a burger, fried chicken, fries, gravy and ... a diet Rootbeer.... Wahoooooo!!!!  And... oh yes... that burger had... bacon in it. Needless to say, the ill feeling from the Chinese food was totally obliterated... and my tummy feeling very pleased, and rather full. And... I get to have the leftover fried chicken tomorrow!

I thought perhaps the extra-special gift of extra-special food would put me into a sufficient food coma and I would be able to fall into a dead sleep tonight... I tried... I went to bed early... I slept for two hours... I'm awake now. Perhaps I shouldn't have done that... I've tried it before and it has never worked.

Egads that food was good.  I feel so...  loved...  I think I'm going to spew.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

I cannot believe I did that...



Dammit... I was dared to write that damn piece of crap.
Dared to write it AND post it.
Sh** ... what WAS I thinking?


I cannot sleep...


Harvey from Bad Example posted a comment on "The Damn Moon", and actually dared me to write and post what I had mentioned therein. Well... after lying in the dark for about an hour tonight, I surmised that although I was tired, there was no likelihood whatsoever that I was going to fall asleep once again. And... yes... I am going to blame it on the damn moon. So... here is what I just came up with (no edit... this is how it came out):  (Um... Note:  This is my attempt at Dr. Seuss. It's humour kids... both form and content... just in case that isn't clear.)

I cannot sleep, I want to die,
I cannot sleep when I close my eyes.
The night is young, the moon is high,
I want to eat... that big moon pie.
I cannot sleep, I want to die,
I cannot sleep when the moon is high.
The night drags on, and here I lie,
I want to eat... I want to die.
I cannot sleep, I want to die,
I cannot sleep though hard I try.
Darkness darkens, my eyes grow wide,
I want bacon, I must confide.
I cannot sleep, I want to die,
I cannot sleep when I dream of fries.
Bacon, Hamburger, Fried Chicken, Fries,
how can I sleep with hunger by?
I cannot sleep, I want to die,
I cannot sleep, please tell me why.

And... please feel free to add a few lines, preferably in rhyming couplets.

Joe vs the Volcano

Movie Review:


The image above and in the previous post was from this movie, a Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan pairing from 1990, which was written and directed by John Patrick Shanley, who for some reason I remember as the writer of the film "Moonstruck" starring Cher and Nicolas Cage. If details such as this remained embedded in my brain for years, then it is a given that the writing must have made an impression on me. Funny thing... even though I remembered these tidbits, I had forgotten that I had the movie... on VHS.

The basic premise is that a man struggling with the drudgery and meaninglessness of his life and office job, thinks he is going to die and accepts a job offer of jumping into a volcano. If I recall correctly, the main character, Joe, played by Tom Hanks, goes through three transformations, and on an interesting note, Meg Ryan plays three different roles. The movie itself is rather silly, but at this point in my life, the underlying theme is rather meaningful to me.

A few things that stood out in my mind for whatever reason, were a couple scenes involving a daisy, a couple signs: "Home of the Rectal Probe" and "Artificial Testicles Prototype", the scene of defiance in the office, the shopping sequence, in particular the dialogue in the luggage shop (as well as the inlaid floor in the "vault"), and the following lines: 

"Hi Joe. What's with the shoe?" "I'm losing my sole."

"You have some time left.. you have some life left... My advice to you is... live it well."

"You look like a bag of shit stuffed in a cheap suit. Not that anybody could look good under these zombie lights. I can feel them sucking the juice out of my eyeballs."

"Listen... haven’t you got anybody?" "No... but... there are certain times in your life when I guess you’re not supposed to have anyone you know... certain doors you gotta go through alone." "You’re gonna be alright."

"Why do you keep calling me Felix? My name’s Joe." "I’m calling you Felix because I do what I want."

"And I’ve been doing some soul searching lately .. been asking myself some pretty tough questions.... You know what I found out? I have no interest in myself. I get bored out of my mind." "Well what does interest you?" "I don’t know... courage... courage interests me."

"It’s always gonna be something with you Joe..." "Yeah." "I wonder where we’ll end up?" "Away from the things of man... away from the things of man."

Yes...  it IS a romantic comedy, but this... this is just what I took from it when I watched it last time. Oh... and Abe Vigoda plays the chief of the inhabitants of the island where the volcano is situate. Yes... the movie IS silly.. and funny...  but I saw more than just that.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Damn Moon...


Considering how bloody tired I was yesterday, it is rather disconcerting that I could not sleep. Even more remarkable is how awake and alert I feel now after a rather generous two hour coma. I had finally fallen asleep sometime after dawn. In my fatigued state last night, I did something unusual in sharing a poem that I had just written. This prompts me to ask: When we are tired do we exhibit uncharacteristic behaviour? Do we say stupid things? Do we do stupid things? Do we begin to lose some of our inhibitions?  Are we more sensitive or less?

*****
When I checked my emails early this morning, of course there were none... who would have emailed me at that hour? After I signed out, one of the "news" items was the occurrence of a "lunar perigree", which I found out today, is when the Moon is at its closest orbital distance to the Earth. There are many interesting tangents one can go on when pondering or studying the Moon's effect on the Earth and her inhabitants, but I'll leave that alone for now. I am just hoping that the skies will clear and I will get to see the "extreme supermoon".

*****
When I struggled with sleep issues as a teenager, I know that I would often write or sketch or read into the wee small hours of the morning. The moon or the night itself was often a focal point of what I would write. I still feel that the stuff I wrote then and even now seems a tad hokey, so I haven't quite got the nerve to post anything more from the past. Speaking of hokey, a little while ago, I jokingly said to someone that I should write something in Dr. Seuss fashion, maybe called "I cannot sleep"... I am seriously considering doing that at some point, but the hardest part would be when I am in a fatigued enough state to write it, will I actually be able to remember to do it?

I Sleepwalk the Day...

(I was cold. I was tired. I tried to sleep.  This is what I wrote. 
No edit. It is rather bold of me to share this as is.)


As the chill of day’s last light descends
my body shakes as if bathed in a veil of ice
I become as cold as Death
The shroud of life lends no blood
I sleepwalk the day the path unknown
Heavy eyes beckon me to rest
but when at last night comes
the dark warmth beckons me to life
and my only desire becomes lost in the many
that the daylight hours blinded me to see.
ckiMar 19 2011


Friday, March 18, 2011

From Mordor to Sesame Street...


This morning I woke up at 4:49 but was able to go back to sleep. When I woke up the second time, the thought that drifted into my mind was something to this effect: "I feel like I am the borderland between Rohan and Mordor." On that note, and considering my continuing lack of focus and inability to write anything, I offer up another one of those stupid quizzes that I just had to do. Who could resist this one? Which Sesame Street character are you?

You Are Cookie Monster



Misunderstood as a primal monster, you're a true hedonist with a huge sweet tooth.

You are usually feeling: Hungry. Cookies are preferred, but you'll eat anything if cookies aren't around.

You are famous for: Your slightly crazy eyes and unusual way of speaking

How you live your life: In the moment. "Me want COOKIE!"

Sun up


I believe this was the last day of February, when the sun was trying to come out whilst it was snowing.


Smiling and tears...


Someone made me smile and cry with this song. Try and figure that one out. 

"To the outside, the dead leaves, they're on the lawn.
Before they died, had trees to hang their hope."


YouTube link.

I haven't made it a habit of posting music videos, but this one I had to as it reminded me of someone I knew as a kid, and someone(s) I know today.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Eclipse

Movie Review:

This is the third movie in the Twilight saga. I had held off watching it for some reason, but a couple days ago I noticed that it was a two day rental so I went for it. Needless to say, I didn't bother keeping it for two days, nor did I watch the Special Features on Disc 2. Why? Be prepared. My answer is rather harsh.

Dumb. Worse than the second one. If it was made for the tween and teen demographic, it may have done them an injustice. What the second one had in the department of overacting teenage angst emo crap, this one just went in the total opposite direction. As in flat. Certainly the second movie had more elements than the first and this had more than the second. It also tried a little harder to expand on a couple of the characters' storylines, but these little additions now make me wonder if the "saga" would have been better served as a television series instead of feature films. One scene that sums up the dumbness of this movie is the one set in the mountains where Bella has been sequestered for her protection in a tent with Edward and during the night our heroine goes hypothermic.. Of course Edward being himself dead, can provide no warmth, but.... voila... Jacob, as a hot-blooded, living werewolf, can....  which produces some sappy but obvious deductive reasoning on Edward's part, as well as the line "I'm hotter than you." (Yes, I laughed.) But then... the next morning, they are up and about and Bella is outside in the freezing cold with just her regular clothes on...  Someone said to me, but that's what teenagers do...   Uh... yeah, sure, but it's still dumb. I have to add... especially in the unreality version of dumbness.

To be fair, I have seen some bad vampire movies, but this just came across as a movie that happened to have some youngling vampires and werewolves in it. Not much bark, not much bite. Granted, I like the idea of the vampire/ werewolf backstory in itself, and the film does have a lot happening in it. However, it wasn't a good sign when at a certain point I said to myself... this seems to be a really long movie, and it ended up being twenty or so minutes longer....  I don't know... maybe I just need more substance... something I can sink my teeth into.

Wow... this might be the most biting review I've ever done. I must add that this is one of those movies that I think perhaps I should watch again just to see if it wasn't as bad as I thought it was the first time.

Happy St. Patrick's Day...



Update 10:01AM: Not drunk... Was not drinking... but sure as heck woke up earlier this morning feeling like I had a hangover. Damn evil little green ... Leprechauns.

Detached?


"I seem to be in somewhat of a haze again lately... not a total brainfog, but just ... not...  quite right...  almost as though I went through an egg separator and I'm looking down at the yolk and white in separate bowls. Weird eh?"

This is part of what I said in a conversation earlier today. I'm sharing it here now because... well... it sounded like an interesting concept to expand upon. However, at this juncture, I can't seem to formulate any other coherent thoughts on the matter. I suppose all I can add is that it just happens to be "where I'm at" or perhaps "where I'm not".

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

The Weight of an Imp...


Nighttime version

Have you ever had the feeling when you are just on the brink of sleep that there is a weight upon you and that you want to move or say something or scream but you are physically unable to do so? There is the moment when you feel as though an unseen oppressive force is holding your entire body down and stifling your voice such that you cannot escape nor call for help. It doesn't happen to me very often, but it is definitely not a pleasant experience. The reason this drifted into my mind is that I came to realize... this is how I have been feeling in my waking world... in my life. Of course though, it is nothing so dramatic or freaky, but nonetheless to a certain extent.... still frightening.

Daytime version

Remembering...


To honour the fallen... 
since last time.

U.S. (Cali (6), Conn (2), SC (2),
Vermont, W. Va, Ark, Ill, Nev,
Missouri, Tex, Mich, Minn.
France
Georgia
Italy
U.K. (Northern Ireland, Scotland)

Never forget that where there are dead, there are wounded.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Memory



I've touched briefly a number of times on the issue of the extremely limited quality and quantity of memories from my existence here on Earth and I have thought about this issue in great detail. I am now starting to wonder if there is a direct correlation between the lack of memories and the lack of emotional attachment. For example, why is it that an aural memory such as a song or visual memory such as a movie may have remained in my mind whereas an event from childhood or anytime thereafter has not? Is it that the music or movie may have evoked a more positive emotion? Not necessarily so.

In thinking back to when I started learning to play classical piano at age five and on for a few years after that, the songs that I was drawn to and that I remember most of all are the ones written in a minor key, the ones with a melancholy tone. I am rather certain that I didn't really like playing happy songs for some reason. So perhaps the memories were retained not for positive emotion, but for any emotion at all, or for a more powerful one. In pondering this further, I also recall that I did not like the movie Bambi, even though I barely remember it. But, of what I do recall, is it because of the frightening forest fire, or because Bambi loses his mom? Or, was it because I secretly didn't like Thumper? Or... is this when I decided that I didn't like it when animals talked in movies, because it was .... silly? My memory is like a puzzle... or sponge... or sieve... or cheesecloth...who knows?

Sanctuary....



With all the unrest and war and devastation in the world today, I sometimes think that perhaps I should write something about everything that is going on out there, but I truly feel that my commentary or opinions or feelings on those events would be of no consequence. I wish not to say anything just for the sake of saying something.  I feel that anything that I say must have value, it must have meaning, if not to anyone else, then at least to me. Perhaps that is why I never spoke up much for most of my life. Just as my physical realm is a quiet little corner of the world, so the blog is my sanctuary within that. Here I may say things that have value and meaning  to me, even if they are ridiculously mundane aspects of my ridiculously mundane life, and it does not matter if they are totally inconsequential to the world outside. Believe it or not, I still struggle with the fact that it is acceptable for me to talk about myself and share my thoughts.

Forgive me for this rather useless ramble. It would appear that I am tired at a more reasonable hour.... and I shouldn't write blogposts when I'm tired.  I'll probably look at it tomorrow and wonder what I was thinking.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Mmm....


Tonight.... tonight.... I was treated to a special treat. Xangos... 


... a creamy banana, cream cheese, caramel filling nestled within a tortilla, deep fried and sprinkled with sugar (and cinnamon?), served with whipped cream and garnished with fresh strawberry together with caramel drizzle. (Sadly, I wasn't able to supply my own photo, but this is pretty close.) In addition to that I also had a sampling of a Mocha Almond Ice Cream Cake.  Ooh...  twas  a very nice treat indeed.

Considering my post from earlier today, I am one lucky, and happy tummy.

Little Evil Mini-Me: Food


(although I could do without the mushrooms.)

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Bodies of unrealistic proportions...


Over at Bad Example, there was a post regarding a young woman who explored the unrealistic proportions of Barbie with frightening results, and that lead to me thinking about the unrealistic expectations placed upon the male sex, with Ken doll and the characters of pop culture at the time of my youth. Here are some examples of this:

Oh and must not forget:

Perhaps that is why I grew up having no expectations whatsoever? Or... perhaps that is why the unrealistic proportions seen in today's pop culture are so appealing?

Dwayne (the Rock) Johnson
Jason Statham
Paul Walker
Vin Diesel

Get real or grow brains or get some common sense. I suppose the project proved that one person's view on unrealistic proportions is directly proportionate to the person's ability to measure an object and calculate simple ratios? Maybe I'm just being unrealistic.

I remember Paris...




I took this shot from the balcony of our Paris hotel room back on a high school trip to France.  This was of course from a time when my eyes did work properly and when I had a real camera with a zoom lens that required manual focus. I do have actual memories of this trip, but again, not complete memories. One thing I do know is that I took about eight rolls of film. I have slides and prints.... The only thing is... I don't know where they are. I think I had three shots enlarged to 11 x 14 and that is why I had this photo of the Eiffel Tower separate from the other prints.

So... that was from a time in my life when I used to be creative, when I used to be into doing things. A part of me that got lost somewhere along the way. This morning I almost lost that part of me completely, until I remembered this.


Saturday, March 12, 2011

Friday, March 11, 2011

Sgt. Rock, a bee in my bonnet?


Well... I started to write a segue into this post relating to the way my memory works, but it became much too convoluted and I had to start again. Let's just say for now, that I have very limited memory from my life at any given time. Some memories are just visual snippets and some are just tidbits or items as if drawn out of a hat. Today, the snippet is a memory of my brother's comicbooks... and more specifically ... Sgt. Rock. I vaguely remember the artwork... I definitely remember seeing machine gun ammo slung over some soldier's shoulders, that there were German words in some bubbles, "achtung" and maybe "schnell" being among them, and I remember Marie of the French Resistance... but not really anything more specific than that.  To be honest, that is how my memories of life go as well.... I remember a person or a place or some thing, but not everything. It is rather sad, but it makes for a lighter load on the brain I suppose. Anyways, Sgt. Rock popped into my head a few times last year, one in particular when I saw this photo from here.

World War II held a venerated spot with this little kid here, and Sgt. Rock, although a comicbook character, was a part of that, as odd as it may sound. Over the years, WW I began to be more part of my sphere, but either way, both were regarded with great esteem and respect.  The other day on a blog I read called "This Ain't Hell", there was a story about a veteran that truly tickled my fancy...  Here is the original story and video:


YouTube link.

Little Evil Mini Me Friday reflections...


Soft or rough? Rough.
Hard or soft? Hard.
Firm or soft? Firm.

Hmm... I'm thinking I had better rephrase my questions.

Soft or rough TOWELS?
Hard or soft ICE CREAM?
Firm or soft BANANAS?




And... I know this has nothing to do with anything and... that I used to have more of these on my mind, which is a little scary coming from me... but...  my brain has been rather... soft lately, or perhaps dull... or dim. Oddly enough, just yesterday I remembered that my blog would be a year old by now and when I checked, I found out that I started it one year ago March 7. All I can say is that I've come a long way from NOT wanting to share anything personal... or shall I say pieces of me. One thing is for certain... I still don't know what the heck I am doing here... on the blog...  in my life... on this planet.... and that is a very long time to be lost.