Them there eyes...

Was visiting a friend today (yesterday now). Their dog, getting on in years, wasn't feeling very well and she looked tired and sad. I was scratching her head and felt an odd cramping type sensation in my fingers and it sort of briefly travelled through part of my hand. The feeling lasted for a few minutes afterwards. It was strange.

There's no such thing...

as too much Metallica.

I must be getting old. I just realized the other day that the only way I can truly listen to Metallica is lying down with my eyes closed. If I am doing anything else at the time, I become too distracted by it. Twenty years ago I used to be able to do accounting tallies and calculations whilst listening to them. How times have changed.

A rather funny thing came to mind on thinking about this. Very near the beginning of my blog journey but a mere three years ago March, I recall a comment I made in response to another. I think I said something along the lines of "There's no such thing as too much Metallica." I now have to rethink that. This withdrawal into mine own head in the past week seems to have coincided with the renewed listening of said music. I had put "And Justice For All" in the player (following the Black album) and found myself unable to focus on anything else. Even Sudoku was suffering. I found myself singing along to "One" and it was distracting me from the numbers. For some reason "To Live is to Die" brought a tear to my eye. I was heading into a Metallica coma. Far beyond the lullaby and the comfort that it used to provide, perhaps it was just too much. What has happened to my world?

Sure, they've made me cry.

I went agoogling for a link and they made me giggle.

And then... I found something to show why I love these guys. (Yes, I think I've always had a wee bit of a crush on James Hetfield. I have finally come out and admitted that. Oh... but only AFTER he cut his hair.)


Good lord... look what I found.

Ooh...

Chocolate Ice Cream
sprinkled with
instant Coffee crystals

Yum.

Taken back and aback

Considering how empty my memory is, it is rather interesting that there is a specific incident from high school that I actually remember... at least... parts of it.

I think the class was English Literature. We were reading ... I'm not sure now... Macbeth or Hamlet or something else. Maybe it was just plain English class. I don't remember. Now that I think about it, I don't think if was Shakespeare. Anyways... when I received my graded assignment back from the teacher, he asked me if I had received help from Mr. X, another teacher... No, I said, taken aback... shocked even... Why would I get help from a teacher on interpreting something I had read? That bugged the hell out of me. I know I got an "A", but I can't remember if it was 98 or 100 per cent.

This came to mind because the other day I was nudged back to visit a site devoted to letters... plain ole written letters... correspondence if you will. There were a few that I was going to write about, but then another one caught my fancy... It was a letter written by a teacher to an author, and her response, the latter which is where my kinship lies. When I went googling for further information, the thing that struck me yet again was... she and I share the same birthday.

On a sidenote, I was rooting through a box of artwork and written stuff from high school wondering if I might find one of my English assignments, and I came across a four and a half page essay (not school related) on selfishness, humankind, and the earth, among other things. A bunch of personal crap mostly, but then, near the end, there was this:

"I know that some people can quit while they're ahead, while others just have to make fools of themselves by going too far. I guess fools should never be prominent people and prominent people shouldn't be fools."

I wrote that when I was sixteen.

White Roses

 

Iceberg roses from my garden the other day. Yes, I am totally aware of the black spots on the leaves. Yes, I am aware that blackspot is  a disease. I was thinking of not using the picture because of that, but... upon further thought, and considering the previous post, I think it seems fitting.

  

*****

The white rose represents Unity,

Virtue, Honour and Reverence,

and is a symbol of Remembrance.

It is considered an expression of
spiritual Love and Respect.


*****

 

To honour the fallen since last time:

NZ (5)

UK (3)

U.S. (North Carolina (2), Massachusetts (2),

       Pennsylvania,   Oregon,  California (9),

       New York (3),  Virginia,   Michigan (3),

       Wyoming,  Idaho,  Georgia,  Texas (3), 

       Florida (2), Ohio

Something on my mind...

On August 10, 2012, six US Marines were killed. Two separate attacks, same province (Helmand) in Afghanistan. Not IED or RPG related, both taking place while on base. Three were killed by an Afghan teenage boy. Three were killed by an Afghan Police Commander and his cohorts, not by someone masquerading in an Afghan Police uniform either. In the second incident, from what I have read around the news, they were at a dinner meeting to discuss security measures with their Afghan counterparts and were shot and killed by them, who fled from the scene. Both incidents are under investigation.

This isn't anything new, but it is becoming more blatant. It also isn't just U.S. troops... British, Australian (not just one incident either), French, German. There's more, but those are just the links that I found rather hastily this morning. I searched out the ones that I remembered hearing about in the past year or so, and I wanted to use different news sources for each.

Hmm... I need to say something here. I'm not going to vent on the first incident however. The second one I have thought a great deal about. This was a 29 year old Capt, a 31 year old Gunnery Sgt and a 27 year old Staff Sgt... USMC... Look at those ranks. These weren't some fresh, green, newbies. There was obviously a sense of trust placed in their company and confidence in themselves. "Come... sit my friend. Eat." This was a deliberate and calculated murder. In my humble opinion of course. That is all.

Sunday sleepy stroll

Heck no, I didn't go for a stroll this morning. These are from the other day.

Unsleep interrupted...

Last night I went to bed at around 4:30AM. I was awakened at 6:50. By the damn phone. I did answer it and I did manage to sleep a wee bit more, but damn. I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is, let alone with unnecessary uncalled for interruptions.

Classic sappy

Had a Cheap Trick song in my head the other night. Not sure how it is that I remember it, as when I went agoogling, I found out that it is from 1977. I wasn't even a teenager yet. Anyways... I thought that I had posted one of their other songs before, but I couldn't find it on the blog. It is rather... sappy... and I didn't realize that it was from so long ago. 1988... Still a great song... I'd say it has held up very well.

I am absolutely positive that I posted it before, but I have searched the blog using a variety of words, and it is nowhere to be found. Oh well...  at least it's not a sucky sappy song.

Just call me Giggles...

Was watching that, chuckling, thinking wha? Good thing that in life, you don't have to wait 'til the very end to laugh. (And I did Gandalf I did.) My thoughts and a virtual box of chocolate covered marshmallow cookies to Harvey over at Bad Example, wherefrom I got that video.

Laughing feels good. Hadn't really thought much on that before this year. Funny yesterday when I watched that the first time I was thinking about laughing so hard that you could die. Is that even possible? Well, yeah... I guess... heart attack or asphyxiation. This got me to thinking about the things that make me laugh.

I was quite sure I posted that here before, so I went rooting around but couldn't find it. Now that I've had time to think about it, it sort of makes me wistful for that one fluffy thing that I can't have.

Oh... just call me Giggles. (Curtsy to the Borderline Sociopathic Blog for Boys for that one.)

(Considering where I've been lately in my head, this may be a momentary fit of madness. I'm not sure.)

Struggling

"I have things to say... to write... but I just haven't been able to lately. It is as though I've been in a haze. My focus comes back intermittently, but I can't seem to sustain it for long enough."

I don't know what is going on. This is different than before. I've written about the emptiness... I've shared the emptiness... but now... the emptiness is gone... and there is... nothing. I know I've tried to explain this here previously. That phrase "Have you lost your mind?" has sort of been a running joke for me in the past couple years, but now it seems eerily appropriate in its most literal sense.

It's 5AM

... and I'm not sleeping. Oh... but I should be... My eyes are very, very heavy now. It would appear that once again sleep comes as dawn arises. I hope so anyways... We shall see when my head hits the pillow. Good night morning.

This sums it up best...

"... I seem to have withdrawn inside my head. Regular programming should resume soon."

(My response on being unable to respond to an email.)

A dream of illumination

Two years ago about this time, I was in the midst of my worst insomnia phase, which if I recall correctly, lasted several months, with but perhaps 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours of sleep a day. Occasionally I may have made it to 3 hours, but that was rare. I don't know why, but I specifically remember a dream from that time, one which provided me with a completely serene feeling. I had never had a dream like it in my life... ever. Its content was clear and vivid, positive and comforting. This was what I had written about it:

August 3, 2010

With my severe lack of sleep over the past two months, I don’t believe I had been making it to the REM portion of the sleep cycle for over a month, and haven’t had recollection of any dreams at all, until today. I remember three, but the one in the middle is the most detailed, which I recall as follows:

I was walking towards a shimmering ball room, which I perceived to be in an ice palace of sorts because of its diamond-like luminescence, where people seemed to be floating about as they were dancing so effortlessly, swirling over the dance floor. I know that I was late arriving, I was NOT wearing black, my colour of choice, and that I was looking for someone. As I was passing through the entranceway that seemed to be lined with glass and faded light, I noticed to my right a young man who seemed rather sad, sitting on a bench. He looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize him. I was going to ask him a question, but didn’t. I thought I was looking for someone in particular, but perhaps that was not the case – If I had been, I know that I would have gone in to walk around and see if I could find whomever it was I was looking for. I turned to walk away and found myself in a room, with the same subdued light, as if the walls were illuminated from within. I don’t think I was sad or tired, but there was a chaise in the middle of the room, so for some reason, I went to lie down, on my side, facing away from the door, and closed my eyes. I sensed someone had come in the room, so I held out my hand without looking and said “please stay with me”. I don’t know if this was the person I was looking for, the young man I had seen on the bench, or someone else, but he took my hand and said “I knew that was what you wanted.”

Of Pumpernickel and Peaches

As I have said before, my memory from the earlier time of my life is scant, to say the least. Oftentimes the pieces aren't even scenes or vignettes, but rather just snapshots, as if I only remember the specific moment in time, or saw an actual photo wherein my whole memory of it is based. Of what I do recall, music and food seem to be the focal points, or triggers of those memories.

One such memory is of... Pumpernickel Bread. It was a small square loaf of a dark, rather dense and perhaps almost chewy bread from the grocery store. I liked it toasted, with butter, eaten with mom's canned peaches. On a side note, I remember when I got a bit older, I used to help mom in the kitchen when she was canning. After the peaches had spent sufficient time in the hot water bath, I would stand at the kitchen sink and carefully peel off the skin for her. I don't think that I was allowed to cut them in half and remove the stone though. (The peaches were fresh and firm, cut neatly in half and the stone removed cleanly.) Ah... fresh peaches... More memories flooding back. Every summer we used to take a family road trip so that mom could pick up tonnes of peaches and tomatoes for canning, and we'd get to take home a big glass jug of local Apple Cider and bottles of different fruit syrup for pancakes. It was always super hot when we went. I was just remarking the other day to an old friend about this. I don't remember any one trip in its entirety, but I remember the scenery, the highway, and the food. Mom would pack snacks and lunch in a cooler. The only thing I recall is... Brownies Fried Chicken (our local version of KFC) and... the riceballs she used to make ... Yum!

Oh... I got sidetracked... Pumpernickel Bread... I was at the local bakery checking out... stuff... and noticed a new bread sitting in the display... It was... Pumpernickel... Expensive, at $4.29, but I had to. And besides, it was a rather large loaf... not like the one we used to get from the grocery store. Anyways... mom's canned peaches just can't be simulated by the canned stuff you get at the store. (Is canning a dead art?) But... what I discovered was pretty damn good... Pumpernickel bread toasted, with peanut butter and... Orange Marmalade. Sigh.

Agenda Pushing Toad

I've never had the pleasure of thinking that of anyone, nor would I ever be considered as such, and I doubt I will ever be so inclined or have the opportunity to do so. Of this, I am glad.

Once again, the first three words from the Random Word Generator were a gem. (Oh...good lord... now this site seems to be down too.)

I had saved my last selection but had no idea whatsoever how on earth I would use it. They were, in this order:

Opus
Objective
Correcting
Crap
Indicating
Bucket

Yes... seriously.

Go figure...

A week ago I had posted a couple funny pics from a new site I had found. Yesterday I visited there again and had a few more laughs. Today however?

The funny thing? What I said here. Completely, unintentionally ominous.

Meaningful

White Hydrangea

Friendship, Devotion and Understanding

Why Facebook made me laugh...

... and shake my head...

(Click the image if your eyes are as bad as mine.)

This is just one set of notifications from a list of notifications that you can receive via email when someone posts something on your page. My favourite is the last one. I wonder how many people actually go through all the settings. Seriously, there are tonnes of things that are defaulted to be there that you can change/remove. Wouldn't it have been easier at the top of the main list to have one simple "Comment notification... Yes... No..."?

How about you?

(WARNING: You are about to be hit by a blunt object.)

They are still there. They still get shot at and blown up on occasion. You just don't ever hear about it, or you don't pay attention. Some die, but some come back not quite complete as they used to be. That is why I have that Soldiers' Angels Project VALOUR IT thing up there. You might think "bah... why should I care?" If it was your brother or sister who put on that uniform and came back a little torn up and broken, wouldn't you want to help out in their recovery? If you could? You might think ... "Why bother?", or "A laptop? Why would they need a laptop?" A voice-activated laptop? Other than the obvious, if you've ever gone for a period of time where you or part of your body has been rendered useless, try no fingers or hands or arms, or use of same, and you're lying somewhere in a hospital bed in pain or on meds or bored out of your gourd and your buddies are thousands of miles away, or your old friends and family across the country?

Oh yeah... I'm Canadian, I know our guys are gone (or mostly gone) from there, and this is an American organization. With the drawdown, in a few years most of the countries that sent troops there will be gone. This is for here and now. This has nothing to do with me at all. Where I am right now in my life, I'm not in a position to help anyone. This is about all I can do, typing from my laptop with both my hands and all my fingers, sitting on my ass with both my legs. How about you?

If you are familiar with this fundraiser, pop over here to see how the teams are doing.

(ps: This is not directed at the five regular readers, but rather to anyone who happens to stumble upon my blog.)