#175 - on a dare

There are many reasons why John Steinbeck and I are friends, besides the obvious fact that we were both born in the beautiful Salinas, California. He saw the world in such a way that, we the people, tend to overlook. He wrote dozens of novels, short stories, and powerful nonfictions, and in 1962 he won the revered Nobel Prize for Literature. He pulls his readers in and challenges them to see more, see beyond. A few of his great works are: Of Mice and Men - check. The Grapes of Wrath - check. East of Eden - in the process of. Cannery Row - next on the list. The Pearl - the future. Here is an excerpt from Cannery Row:

"Once when Doc was at the University of Chicago he had love trouble and he had worked too hard. He thought it would be nice to take a very long walk. He put on a little knapsack and he walked through Indiana and Kentucky and North Carolina and Georgia clear to Florida. He walked among farmers and mountain people, among the swamp people and fishermen. And everywhere people asked him why he was walking through the country. Because he loved true things he tried to explain. He said he was nervous and besides he wanted to see the country, smell the ground and look at grass and birds and trees, to savor the country, and there was no other way to do it save on foot. And people didn’t like him for telling the truth. They scowled, or shook and tapped their heads, they laughed as though they knew it was a lie and they appreciated a liar. And some, afraid for their daughters or their pigs, told him to move on, to get going, just not to stop near their place if he knew what was good for him. And so he stopped trying to tell the truth. He said he was doing it on a bet—that he stood to win a hundred dollars. Everyone liked him then and believed him. They asked him in to dinner and gave him a bed and they put lunches up for him and wished him good luck and thought he was a hell of a fine fellow. Doc still loved true things but he knew it was not a general love and it could be a very dangerous mistress."

I bring this up for a reason. I am 83 days late for a new finding: This man, Matt Green, is walking across the United States. I think this is magical for a few reasons. Just as he describes in his blog, there is so much of the world you can see, taste, feel, and experience while walking that you just can't appreciate while you are zooming by in a car, plane, or even a bicycle. There is something just so innately human and simple about walking. I love to take walks, especially at dusk, so I just can't image what an experience this will be for him. Everyone he has thus far come in contact with, has been incredibly hospitable and welcoming. It makes me look forward to my adventure next year with even more anticipation. Biking my way around Ireland.

#171 - when I grow up...

Why not skip jumprope around the block?
Why not watch the cartoon robin hood and still have a crush on the fox?
Why not puddle jump in the albertson's parking lot in the middle of the day?
Why not dip my graham crackers in a glass of milk?
Why not stir my ice cream 'till it's all melty?

Why not act like I'm six years old?

#148 - resume material

I have a joke: so there was this hotel in the world. This hotel thought it would be a great idea if a guest's bed was all warmed up before they got in it that night. INVENTION! The human bed warmer. gafaw gafaw gafaw...

(by the way, I can't get over the middle "guest" man's facial expression, "I feel funny...")

How is this a good idea? I love the questions tied to this article:

*In the case of a double bed, will there be two bed warmers?

*In such a case, will they match equally in their bed warming abilities?

*Do bed warmers get any special training?

*Is this a free lagniappe service or guests have to pay extra charges for a pre-warmed bed?

*What is the gender of the bed warmer? Most guests assume it would a woman but the news item cleverly keeps silent about it.

I have some of my own:

*Are you supposed to talk to them? If so, what on earth do you say?
*Will they be all sweaty and hot and there-by, sweat in your bed?
*Will they just wander from room to room, bed laying?
*Do you tip?

*Are you supposed to get in the bed while they are in there?

*Will they make the bed after they leave and make it ridiculously and uncomfortably too tight like hotel beds always are?
*Why is this happening?

I feel uncomfortable and awkward....

#129 - A.A.

I'm sitting outside right now at one of those internet cafes. It's about 95 degrees today and bake-able hott. There are two guys sitting next to me who I find rather entertaining. During breaks from finding jobs and organizing my resume... I listen in:

Hair: "So I went down to Jerry's yesterday and didn't drink"

Shades: "Yea I've been sober for 4 months now"

Hair: "It feels so good.... It's like, have I been doing something wrong before? It's a crazy feeling"

Shades: "Yea, It's nice just relaxing and and not having a pounding headache. It's just, quiet, you know when you're not hung over."

Hair: "It's great for work too. They ask you question after question and you gotta be able to think clearly. Focused. It's so much easier sober."

Shades: "My job requres me to wake up and be there at 9 am. Not drinking the night before... it's so much easier to function. Makes you not want to go back."

Hair: "It's so weird..."

Back to my job search and intermittent book reading. Glorious sunshine.

#115 - frowned upon

Over Memorial Day weekend, our kitchen received some company that has since well worn out its welcome. There is a daily massacre; a flood of Windex leaves hundreds of black ants struggling to survive, only to heave them in heaps of carnage. A few weeks ago, I had a bonding experience with one of the aforementioned ants. I had just finished windexing all of his friends to death, when one lonely solider caught my eye. He was crawling along the wall from the kitchen to the living room. Before smashing him to death, I took a closer look. He was making his way to safety, carrying the dead body of a fallen compadre. I sat on the stairs, unable to take my eyes away from this noble creature. Maybe it was devotion: his true love had fallen by the way of the toxins and he was carrying her away, to pay his respects and bury her live-less body. They had spent a life-time together; digging, scavenging for food, and looking out for each other -- waiting for a time when they could leave the hill and build a home of their own. Or perhaps a long time best friend -- defending their queen along side one another, warning each other of impending hazards and toxic odors. But one time, out on the hunt, his friend was just too slow and his leg got caught in a pool of window cleaner.

Whatever the reason and whatever the relationship these two had, I thought Little Ant's devotion should be recognized and supported. I took numerous pictures, all of which did not come out (Little Ant was too tiny), and finally helped the only way I knew how. I put these two on a piece of paper and carried them outside to the driveway so Little Ant could find an appropriate burial ground. Upon paper-release, they got separated. Little Ant, confused and lost, wandered in circles for a while before finally finding a course and headed, alone, friendless, loveless to the safety of the grass.

Fast forward to this morning. I was wiping up the remains of hundreds of more ants when again, crossing the sink counter was another noble wanderer, carrying the lifeless body of a fallen friend. I quickly called Sami down to look at this amazing feat, when she then proceeded to tell me that they do that all the time and he's just carrying the dead ant back to the house so they can eat him. EAT HIM! I was appalled! Can this be true?! He's not a noble or respectful hero at all?! He's a bloodthirsty cannibal!? And to think, I was led astray... lied to by Little Ant! I was encouraging him to EAT his less than lucky fellow ant. I was so disturbed -- I killed that cannibal carrier and with more force and hatred than I had all the rest.

If this is true: that ants carry and eat their fallen friends, then I want nothing to do with them ever again and now take much more pleasure in their utter destruction! Horrid little creatures...

#114 - inattentive something or other and the not-blog

I was going to blog about how earlier today I wasn't feeling well and thought it might have been because it was 3:00 and all I'd had to eat was a low fat yogurt, and apple, and a banana. That mixed with never enough water and meds this morning, I thought, made me feel ill. Turns out it was just work, because I just got back for the 9 to midnight shift and immediately the feeling came upon me again, after being absent while I was at play. But I felt too sick, so I didn't.

I was going to blog about the week that the celebrities died - - how it is everywhere now (everyone buying MJ's music, twitter whaling over with people talking about the devastation, it consuming the news and gossip shows, every news and media blog I follow posting something about it) but I thought that would just add to the already overwhelming talk and be counter-productive, so I didn't.

I was going to blog about my rebellious hypocritical feelings regarding having to work on a holiday weekend, especially when it's such glorious weather outside. In protest I am wearing carpi's and flip-flops to work (a cardinal no-no for the authorities of BYU-I), but still have to tell people coming to the gym that they have to be properly attired in the required gym uniforms to exercise. But that didn't interest me enough, so I didn't.

So this is me without thought and my not-blog.

#87 - i gotta know

I was led astray in the 5th grade, Mrs. Molhar's class. We were doing a science project to see how soda erodes bone and teeth. During our experiments, my teacher was telling us the history of soda, "When coca-cola was originally made, it was green." Very a-matter-of-fact. From that moment on, I knew, when coca-cola was first made, it was green. 11 years later (two or so months ago) I was in a diner with a friend and I educated him on the origins of coca-cola, reiterating what my 5th grade teacher had told me. He didn't believe me!? My cited 10 year old sources were not good enough for him, evidently. Putting good money on this belief I had, we went home and researched it. Although it is a common myth, it is a myth just the same. I couldn't believe it! What else have I been led astray about? That flipped the skeptical switch. That, and watching myth busters has opened my eyes to a lot of misconceptions. Today, I got an email telling me that this August, Mars would be as big as the moon and how this wouldn't happen again for another 30,000 years or something incredible like that. Now encased in skeptical wisdom, I looked it up on reliable scientific websites before marking my calendar and telling all my friends. Sadly, another myth. The truth is out there, it's just tough to distinguish sometimes.

So.... Rachel.... is it true what you told me when I was 5?? Pee is stored in your calf?? And Mom... drinking liquid green jello has miracle medicinal powers??

#82 - ditto kiddo

One meets so many people at school, it's often difficult to remember everyone's name. Enter - name associations. I've always associated people's names with things to help me place them (here's a few, for example).

"Beltbuckle" (can't actually remember his name, but he always wore ridiculously large belt buckles)

"The Chiseled"

"Tacoma John" (a guy I dated from Tacoma... too far away)

"Sledding Steve" (Steve took me sledding... self explanatory)

"Army" (a friend's boyfriend who was going through ROTC)

"Red" (A very tall very red redheaded man friend)

"Half-shell" (friend of mine who looks unmistakably like a turtle.. and always wears green)

The list could go on. I thought it was funny this semester though, how one of the faculty members who always comes into the gym refers to me. Since the end of last and the beginning of this semester, I have been known as "Tiny Tim" and "Miss America" by him. He is old and cute so I always go with it... those are just new ones for me. I've previously been called Roy, Nessers, Ness, Nestle, V (a favorite), Nessler ... etc, but those are all more logical.

#55 - beard power

I saw this music video a while ago that I fell in love with and it got me thinking... beards. BYU-Idaho has very particular rules about facial hair (on guys... that shouldn't be debatable): "Hairstyles should be clean and neat, avoiding extreme styles or colors, and trimmed above the collar leaving the ear uncovered. Sideburns should not be extended below the earlobe or onto the cheek. If worn, mustaches should be neatly trimmed and may not extend beyond or below the corners of the mouth. Men are expected to be clean shaven; beards are not acceptable." This makes me sadish. I love the clean look on a guy, don't get me wrong. Especially when out doing something fancy or a special occasion. But I do love facial hair on a man. First, for that reason, it's very "manly". Depending on where it is on the scruff-beard scale, it could be ruggedly handsome or a mysterious mountain man (I'm more of a fan of just a little scruff). I'm a little beard jealous sometimes - they can do so many fun, different things! And I bet it keeps their faces toasty warm. I like the fun different beard things, but for a limited time only. And when I say "limited time" I mean, just doing it to be funny (maybe for one day) and then shave it off. I thought of what kind of facial hair I like after watching this music video because I thought that he really pulled it off! The only downside is this attraction to facial hair is a bit self destructive: attractive and manly from a distance - ouchy, scratchy, and hurts my face. Look at me, sacrificing for the greater good.

(I gotta say, not a fan of any of those man-beard blog pictures... but thought they were fun for a limited time only)

#54 - pretty pretty

I think I've mentioned this before, but I'm a sucker for cuteness (for the purposes of this blog, the focus will solely be on things that want my money). I've been trying really hard lately to scrimp and save my money: sticking to the "western family" brands, looking for sales, fixing broken things instead of buying new ones, little things here and there. The caveat is the aforementioned statement... if it comes in a new bright color, a funky cool shape, or has a cool/funny name, unfortunately, I'm sold. Like I said, I'm a work in progress, and hopefully someday my self control will be something to be admired.

All of this is building the foundation for my most recent find: it's called a "kachingle". Cute right? It's a website with the slogan of "sprinkle change on the blogs you love". I'm overwhelmingly confused by this statement, but continue reading, purely because I want to play the kachingle game!!! (whatever the heck that is...).

First, I didn't know it cost money to have a blog, so why would I give people money. It's weird to me to get money for something like that... Second, how do they get the money? What do they do with the money? Why is this happening? If someone could learn about the fancy "kachingle" for me and let me know, that would be very helpful.

#52 - odds fish my dear

Throughout my travels thus far in life, meeting new people and living in differnt areas, I have discovered a few phrases and words that I am growing attached to. They are not used nearly enough and I think I need to aid in the movement to change that fact. Hither and yon for instance. How can you go wrong with a sentance like, "The ellusive tattered man looked hither and yon to discover the origins of the sweet candy scent wafting through the air."

A few others... pure gold:
Grandiose
Splendor
Methinks
Disquieting
Largesse
Alturistic
Grand



Those are just the ones currenly at the top of my head. Maybe it's phrasings like these that draw me to movies like 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' and those period movies by Jane Austen like 'Pride and Prejudice'. When I can slip a 'thence' or 'tiresome' into normal conversation, I even feel fancier - and what girl doesn't want to feel fancy whenever she can?

#49 - the feat of deceit

At the fitness center, we ask that everyone check-in on the computers at the front desk. It's located right as you walk in and next to all the work-out equipment. All that is involved in checking in is typing your 8 digit i-number or your user name (vpark). It takes about 3 seconds, still people walk by and don't check in. Really, I don't care too much. If they see all the signs and they disregard it, they obviously have some deep rooted animosity towards checking-in or computers in general. I'm not going to push it. BUT there's this guy... he comes up to the front desk, types a few things in on the keyboard (presumably his user name) and leaves to go work out. I remember him because his user name was unusually short. He types it in so fast! While I was working I was sitting on the desk folding towels and from up there I have a view of the computer screen. He came up, typed in his "user name" and left. The screen stays up for a few seconds after someone checks in so I took a peek. He just hits any key on the keyboard and hits enter! It says "you have not successfully checked in" error. It's all just for show! Really?? You're trying to trick me? I know what's up.... my question is, why come all the way over, type something in on the keyboard, take the time and the energy just to go through the motions. It would take the exact same amount of time to actually check in! I think this man is very curious. Next time I see him fake-check-in, I'm going to confront him and make him really check-in; hopefully it will be awkward. Like I said, normally I don't care, but if he's going over the top to be tricky, I'm going to go over the top to show I'm not tricked. It is so on fake checker inner guy. It is so on.

#40 - circling each other like Venezuelan flamingos engrossed in a complex mating dance

Being enrolled in a class that involves an online discussion board or blog puts me in quite a sticky situation. Right now I'm dealing with two: Social Problems and Ethics. I don't know what it is, but in the discussion board arena, I feel like I'm drowning in theological bafoonery. There are millions and millions of people smarter than I - that is not in dispute. I just feel like 90% of the time, I am placed in discussion groups with people who are missing the boat. Please feel free to step into my world with brief view of my pain:

"I can say nothing about the existence of objective standards, because any statement about them would be taken from my subjective point of view. Trying to find an objective measure by which to measure my judgements would itself be subjective, either by the other trying to measure my judgements, or my myself trying to realize the potential of my thoughts as being objective. If I were to say that a standard were objective, I would most definitely hope that the process by which I discover this standard did not contain subjective standards or rules, because then what could I truly say about the objectivity of the process of finding objective standards? As subjectivity is possessed by the potential to be incorrect, only an objective being could find and be objectively sure of objective standards relating to what form of life, if any, is better. A rational human may incorrectly determine a standard to be objective."

This isn't even as bad as some of the superfluous jargon that I have encountered. This "response" had absolutely nothing to do with the posed question... needless to say, I "regrettably" gave him a 20/50. It's also interesting how many, barely high school level, papers I have edited while in college... it is frustrating beyond comprehension sometimes. This is partially why I don't like group projects or group discussion boards. It hurts my head to try and weave through these intense webs of incognizance (might have made up that word...for dramatic effect, of course)

#32 - clothes make the man

I was finishing up my Christmas shopping yesterday, and in doing so, walked around Best Buy. While I was there, I saw a sales rep talking to a woman about external hard drives. I'm guessing he was either just starting his shift or just finishing because he was holding his bright blue "I know things" Best Buy shirt and had on a, normal people, Hurley shirt. I was listening to their conversation and then I realized: I was subconsciously questioning every word out of his mouth; he didn't really know that much about external hard drives... It was because of the shirt. Those blue shirts give them power: "He knows, he's wearing blue." "He must be right, can't you see his shirt?" Even though he was still clearly an employee, the absence of his official uniform made me see him as just some punk guy. Shopping is all a big mind game - and if they look official, I'm a sucker all the way.

#23 - beuller... beuller...

Earlier today, I was at the doctor's office, waiting to have my prescriptions filled... waiting for my number to be called... waiting... waiting... There were two guys sitting next to me. One just had his head in his hands, sympathizing, while the other guy talked to his girlfriend on the phone. He's breaking up with her. Or rather, making her break up with him. He just broke his arm and he is asking her if he should come home to her, if she still loves him, and if she will take care of him until his arm heals. He gives her the ultimatum and asks if he should look somewhere else to live. He expresses his financial issues and how he needs her money. "You gotta decide, Amelia. That's what I'm tellin' ya. There's no more time." I wonder what she's thinking on the other end. "I hafta know, Amelia!" Sometimes I think that I might be too picky in regards to relationships. I might not give guys enough of a chance. But it's situations like this one and couples that I see everyday, that refortify my original impressions. I don't ask much at all; I don't have a list of necessary requirements or a book of a hundred qualities and hurdles the guy has to pass, but time and time again, my heart is left wanting. Why is he doing this now? In the most public of places and over the phone? He accuses her of not caring enough about him. "You shouldda seen this comin', Amelia. Are you gonna tell me you need more time? 'Cause you ain't got no more time. I need a definite answer, Amelia." The answer is simple; if you find yourself in this situation, asking these kinds of questions... end it. I hope that's not just me being cynical, but I've been through a lot and I guess have high expectations and low patience. It's amazing how much personal information people share in public places. I am a pretty private person. I don't like people (even close relations) to know too much about me and when too much information is leaked, I feel exposed, vulnerable, and emotionally naked. Exposure is quickly followed by a recluse into silence and solitude. Slowly, I'll emerge and begin sharing myself again, but it's a vicious cycle of self-disclosure. What good does it do to keep yourself to... yourself? Gossip, opinions, and unwanted input instill fear of opening up, but equivalent fear of loneliness and solitude push me back into communication.

Camera phone shot trying to capture the pain in my eyes...

"now serving... number 724..."

(I think another key reason why this guy bugged me so much is how many times he said her name. Someone's name is important and how many times you use it is powerful. Use it too much, derogatorily, and it makes you seem cocky, overbearing and obtrusive. Use it lovingly and it makes all the difference in what you are trying to say. Needless to say, how he was using her name did not make him come off compassionate and understanding. It made me want to punch him in the face... not really, that's mean.)

#18 - that's what we have

Approximately one year and a half ago (April 2007) I made a discovery. Flatwin. I was waiting to meet up with a few of my friends at the Olympia Arts Walk, I came across a table in the middle of the street. (For a quick catch-up for those of you who aren't familiar with arts walk, it is a time when 100's of businesses and artists display their art and their talents through performances and displays. The Spring Arts Walk also includes the Procession of the Species which is when people in the community create costumes and vehicles to look like different animals and they parade down the street (usually accompanied by their pets). It is one of the defining attributes that makes Olympia, Olympia). It was just a regular small table and there was a regular looking man (okay, he gave a striking resemblance to David Duchovney) sitting surrounded by flat black combs displayed in a plastic case. What drew me in was his speech, "I'm basically doing nothing. I am selling combs for a dollar. You give me a dollar, and I give you a comb. That is all that is happening." Evidently one day on his front step appeared a large box filled with hundreds of flat black combs. He wondered what he was going to do with all of these and then it came to him. "This is something that I can do, in the world. I am in the world, and this is what I am doing. I'm selling combs for a dollar." I stood there just staring at him with my mouth partially open, amazed at his ability to attract this much attention. He really was doing basically nothing and selling practically nothing, but I couldn't move away from his presence. I texted my friends and told them where I was and they were equally entranced. I thought at first that this was some sort of social experiment and kept looking around for the hidden camera. Anyway, he has expanded his business to now selling, "It's a Comb" "It's a Twig" "It's Art" "It's a Flat Can" "It's Nothing" "It's a Piece of Burnt Toast" and "It's a Booklet". Currently (because I've been away from home) I only own the Comb and the Twig, but will make my collection complete and up-to-date in three days when I am at last home for Thanksgiving. What is it about the Flat Win Company that pulls at my being. I'm drawn to their products and can not see my home complete with out "Nothing". He inspires: how am I contributing to the world?

Check him out: www.buyolympia.com/q/Artist=The+Flat+Win+Company and tell him Vanessa sent you (maybe we'll be friends!)