I've considered how different life would be as a fish in an aquarium. Assuming I had the consciousness to consider such questions (and thought in English) would I wonder "why am I here?" or "is there a world outside of this one?" It's hard to say. Maybe I'd be content with sucking at algae or mindlessly gulping down processed flakes from an unknown and unseen god. I'd never have the joy of my wedding day, or the exhilaration of traveling to a new country, but then I'd also get to miss out on soul-crushing prom nights, or the sadness of a friend's miscarriage. Ramen only seems like a terrible food when you eat it for weeks on end because you know about t-bone steaks and tiramisu.
If you had no options in life: no career paths, no vacations, no picking out new furniture, then maybe not having to worry about them would be a good thing. My life would be reduced to eating (which I love already), playing tag, occasionally being bullied, and relieving myself wherever I saw fit. The worst thing that would ever happen is getting scooped into a net and dumped into a new container every few months for cleaning. To be fair, fish probably think they are going to die, like, FOR REAL, every time this happens, but it's never more then ten minutes until they're all perked up and swimming about joyously in an old cat-litter bucket. What would life be like without the inane decisions of human life? Without religion, without hope, but also without a care beyond your own existance? It seems primal to those of us who have the more "refined" choices on our menu, but to them, life probably seems like a natural progression of eating, pooping, and sleeping.
Weirdly enough, I think I've just described the "dumb" races in high fantasy. Goblins don't give a fig if you were once their friend. If you're made of meat and dead, they're going to eat you. Chances are you weren't even a friend.
However, Goblins ARE depicted as being capable of very basic religion, usually following some war god or otherwise barbaric overlord. So maybe there still is goblin marriage and goblin families and goblin home decorating. But nothing as sophisticated as human decor and architecture. Is that racism speaking? What if Mrs. Twacknsmack is very proud of her rabbitskin rug and the tidyness of her little goblin hut?
Maybe elves view humans the same way humans view goblins. Elves think of us as similar, and yet (adorably) beneath their capabilities of art and politics. Goblins don't even come to mind when they think of humanoid races (maybe like we think of monkeys?). Any human that rises to their ranks has only done so because they were a cute pet, or necessary to some crazy prophecy.
Maybe THAT'S why elf/human relationships are so looked down upon by elves... Not only are they (usually) rejecting a long lifespan, but they're falling in love with a creature so basic, so unrefined compared to their society. When Ymir runs off with Jimmy, it seems to the elves that she's been captured by some dirty hippie.
Do rich people think of me this way?
Am I this closed-minded to the poor?
Friday, July 27, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
On Hospitality
I've always enjoyed playing hostess for my friends. I love cooking for them, gathering mix and match pillows and blankets for the evening, and laying out towels for showers in the morning. When we're gaming (see: Always) I make sure there is room on the table for the crackers and cheese, and fetch drinks and refills when it isn't my turn. I take pride in ensuring that no one feels excluded, bored, or hungry.
Yesterday I was reminded where I picked up my love of entertaining: my parents. They have always enforced an open door policy, ensuring my friends had a place to go when things went wrong. Dad has fixed one of my friend's cars when she was behind on rent and afraid of losing her only source of transportation. Mom has reminded my friends time and again that they are welcome to come any time, even if my brothers and I are not around. Regardless of the nights they kept them up, the extensive amounts of food they consumed, and the number of things they have broken, my parents have continued allowing them to come over, yell their lungs out, chow down... and fix the house they've all but destroyed (high school was a trying time for the walls and furniture in the basement). Through them, I learned that hospitality means more than room and board. It's an honest desire to reinforce assurance and well being.
This morning, I woke up in my old room, husband sound asleep from coming to bed at four in the morning, and friends sprawled out on any available furniture. Coming upstairs, I took inventory of everyone, making sure they had blankets to keep them warm, and cellphones near at hand. Once they had all been seen to, I saw to my own needs and went to the kitchen scrounge up something to eat. As I was taking stock of what was available for everyone's morning meal, I saw a plain brown box on the stove. On it was a single piece of scotch tape (lock and key for the cats) and a short message, in my mother's even handwriting.
"Breakfast :)"
Even after returning from a late night concert, waking up at six to attend church this morning, and likely bidding the MtG crew upstairs a good night, she found time to spoil us all with doughnuts for breakfast. It's good to know that after all these years, my parents are still able and willing to help me help others. And when you spend so much time concerning yourself about the welfare of others, it's awesome to have someone to fall back on, with full confidence that they'll catch you.
Mom, Dad, thanks for everything. And today especially, thank you for your couches, refrigerators, showers, and sheets. Some day, I'll pay you back in kind for these generosities but for now I'll keep it simple: Thank you for your hospitality, and for always having my back.
Yesterday I was reminded where I picked up my love of entertaining: my parents. They have always enforced an open door policy, ensuring my friends had a place to go when things went wrong. Dad has fixed one of my friend's cars when she was behind on rent and afraid of losing her only source of transportation. Mom has reminded my friends time and again that they are welcome to come any time, even if my brothers and I are not around. Regardless of the nights they kept them up, the extensive amounts of food they consumed, and the number of things they have broken, my parents have continued allowing them to come over, yell their lungs out, chow down... and fix the house they've all but destroyed (high school was a trying time for the walls and furniture in the basement). Through them, I learned that hospitality means more than room and board. It's an honest desire to reinforce assurance and well being.
This morning, I woke up in my old room, husband sound asleep from coming to bed at four in the morning, and friends sprawled out on any available furniture. Coming upstairs, I took inventory of everyone, making sure they had blankets to keep them warm, and cellphones near at hand. Once they had all been seen to, I saw to my own needs and went to the kitchen scrounge up something to eat. As I was taking stock of what was available for everyone's morning meal, I saw a plain brown box on the stove. On it was a single piece of scotch tape (lock and key for the cats) and a short message, in my mother's even handwriting.
"Breakfast :)"
Even after returning from a late night concert, waking up at six to attend church this morning, and likely bidding the MtG crew upstairs a good night, she found time to spoil us all with doughnuts for breakfast. It's good to know that after all these years, my parents are still able and willing to help me help others. And when you spend so much time concerning yourself about the welfare of others, it's awesome to have someone to fall back on, with full confidence that they'll catch you.
Mom, Dad, thanks for everything. And today especially, thank you for your couches, refrigerators, showers, and sheets. Some day, I'll pay you back in kind for these generosities but for now I'll keep it simple: Thank you for your hospitality, and for always having my back.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Night Class
A young woman returns home
cold: the darkness held at bay by city lights.
But where fear could stand lies her imagination.
Fending off boredom, and giving her safety.
One night, the bicycle beneath her is a quarter horse,
and she is a ranch hand, returning home from checking the herds
upset as she, he blows at the cold
mentally, she pats his neck, assuring him that home is close
The week before, she was a Trainer
a giant, tiger striped wolf striding alongside.
She keeps a hand on his side
Feeling his intense heat, and strong heartbeat.
Other nights, she is alone
and the eyes of an archer analyze her surroundings.
The dragons are a fearsome foe
but she knows how to read their signs.
As home approaches,
The horse, the wolf, the Kajiit all fall away.
For now her imagination may rest,
tucked away until next Tuesday evening.
cold: the darkness held at bay by city lights.
But where fear could stand lies her imagination.
Fending off boredom, and giving her safety.
One night, the bicycle beneath her is a quarter horse,
and she is a ranch hand, returning home from checking the herds
upset as she, he blows at the cold
mentally, she pats his neck, assuring him that home is close
The week before, she was a Trainer
a giant, tiger striped wolf striding alongside.
She keeps a hand on his side
Feeling his intense heat, and strong heartbeat.
Other nights, she is alone
and the eyes of an archer analyze her surroundings.
The dragons are a fearsome foe
but she knows how to read their signs.
As home approaches,
The horse, the wolf, the Kajiit all fall away.
For now her imagination may rest,
tucked away until next Tuesday evening.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
The Time Has Come
Fate alone would have me discover NaNoWriMo the first day of November.
I've always wanted to write a novel.
I'm having hot flashes.
I told Alien about it.
I posted it on Facebook.
I'm writing on my blog.
This is as real as it gets guys.
I have a feeling that I'm going to end up with a caffeine addiction after this. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm going... to start writing.
I've always wanted to write a novel.
I'm having hot flashes.
I told Alien about it.
I posted it on Facebook.
I'm writing on my blog.
This is as real as it gets guys.
I have a feeling that I'm going to end up with a caffeine addiction after this. I'm scared. I'm excited. I'm going... to start writing.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Lessons Learned from Three Weeks of Marriage
I've learned a few things in a rather short amount of time, ranging from minor to profound.
Life Lesson #1: Cactus loves cooking
This has been known for some time, but now that I'm responsible for feeding myself 24/7 (instead of showing up at the dining hall and demanding to be fed), this has become more apparent. I don't just cook to eat either: if I did, I would make quickly prepared meals. As it is, cooking has become an enjoyable task, that I'm willing to spend over an hour a day doing. For big dinners, I've been seen in the kitchen for as much as twice that, chopping, sauteing, stewing, and of course tasting. I seem to follow my family's example of following recipes only loosely if at all. Since they have far more experience than I do, this has led to odd and rather bland meals thus far. Fortunately, Alien and my friends are helpful as well as encouraging, so my culinary skills should see improvement. At least I'm under spicing and not over spicing: less wasteful if nothing else. And I'm still a pro cookie baker, so that has to count for something.
Life Lesson #2: Cactus keeps a clean house
My mother laughed at me when I told her this. "Seriously," she asked. "Are you sure you're my daughter? The one that found Halloween candy in her backpack at Easter?" Yes mom, same girl. But where she had done the cleaning for me at home, our apartment refuses to clean itself. Alien helps, but being a chem e keeps him on a tight schedule. So now, when I come home from class, I clean. I clean before I read, before I check the internet, before I eat. To be honest, the last is probably the reason I clean: I can't STAND a dirty kitchen. I sweep every three days, and wipe down the counters and wash the sinks weekly. I even cleaned out the fridge today. Just because it needed done. I cleaned my BATHROOM today, with no one telling me to. I used to cry about doing that chore. And if you want to know why an apartment is so different than having a dorm... don't ask. It just is.
Life Lesson #3: Cactus STILL HATES doing the dishes
Yes, even if it means cluttering my kitchen. I won't touch them unless forced with confrontation. I pick them up off of the coffee table, night stand, desk, what have you, and BRING them to the kitchen, but the dishes are Alien's job. Thankfully, he's a trooper, and more than willing to do them himself. Having a dishwasher (the machine, not the husband) helps too. But it seems to have flunked out of dish washing school. It loudly protests to it's job for the whole duration of the washing, and then refuses to rinse used food out of the back right corner. It leaves dried particles on all the glasses, and hard water spots have become part of life. It does seem to have learned the "heat cycle" lessons though: everything that comes out of it, while possibly dirty, is certainly hot enough to kill lifeforms large and small. With all of this evidence, I have drawn the conclusion that my dishwasher houses a temperamental dragon. Excavations are scheduled for the future to find the creature to keep as a pet, or sell for a hill of gold. The end result will be entirely dependent on how much grocery money we have when I find him.
Life Lesson #4: Despite all other cleaning, Cactus' bedroom will always be messy because Alien shares a room with her now.
Since no one needs to go in there besides Alien and I, the bedroom has become a site of neglect. This is largely due to Alien's ritualistic desire to throw his clothes at least five feet from his body, and ANYWHERE but the hamper. In an attempt to coexist with the creature, I have made peace with the garment flinging, but have demanded that the bed be made at all times. He helped make the bed once, right after a trip to Bed Bath and Beyond where we bought disgustingly expensive and luxurious bedding, but this was largely because he wanted to test the sheets. My further requests to make the bed have ended with him rolling about on the covers, cocooning himself, and inevitably throwing himself on the ground, laughing maniacally all the while.
I don't ask him to make the bed anymore.
Life Lesson #1: Cactus loves cooking
This has been known for some time, but now that I'm responsible for feeding myself 24/7 (instead of showing up at the dining hall and demanding to be fed), this has become more apparent. I don't just cook to eat either: if I did, I would make quickly prepared meals. As it is, cooking has become an enjoyable task, that I'm willing to spend over an hour a day doing. For big dinners, I've been seen in the kitchen for as much as twice that, chopping, sauteing, stewing, and of course tasting. I seem to follow my family's example of following recipes only loosely if at all. Since they have far more experience than I do, this has led to odd and rather bland meals thus far. Fortunately, Alien and my friends are helpful as well as encouraging, so my culinary skills should see improvement. At least I'm under spicing and not over spicing: less wasteful if nothing else. And I'm still a pro cookie baker, so that has to count for something.
Life Lesson #2: Cactus keeps a clean house
My mother laughed at me when I told her this. "Seriously," she asked. "Are you sure you're my daughter? The one that found Halloween candy in her backpack at Easter?" Yes mom, same girl. But where she had done the cleaning for me at home, our apartment refuses to clean itself. Alien helps, but being a chem e keeps him on a tight schedule. So now, when I come home from class, I clean. I clean before I read, before I check the internet, before I eat. To be honest, the last is probably the reason I clean: I can't STAND a dirty kitchen. I sweep every three days, and wipe down the counters and wash the sinks weekly. I even cleaned out the fridge today. Just because it needed done. I cleaned my BATHROOM today, with no one telling me to. I used to cry about doing that chore. And if you want to know why an apartment is so different than having a dorm... don't ask. It just is.
Life Lesson #3: Cactus STILL HATES doing the dishes
Yes, even if it means cluttering my kitchen. I won't touch them unless forced with confrontation. I pick them up off of the coffee table, night stand, desk, what have you, and BRING them to the kitchen, but the dishes are Alien's job. Thankfully, he's a trooper, and more than willing to do them himself. Having a dishwasher (the machine, not the husband) helps too. But it seems to have flunked out of dish washing school. It loudly protests to it's job for the whole duration of the washing, and then refuses to rinse used food out of the back right corner. It leaves dried particles on all the glasses, and hard water spots have become part of life. It does seem to have learned the "heat cycle" lessons though: everything that comes out of it, while possibly dirty, is certainly hot enough to kill lifeforms large and small. With all of this evidence, I have drawn the conclusion that my dishwasher houses a temperamental dragon. Excavations are scheduled for the future to find the creature to keep as a pet, or sell for a hill of gold. The end result will be entirely dependent on how much grocery money we have when I find him.
Life Lesson #4: Despite all other cleaning, Cactus' bedroom will always be messy because Alien shares a room with her now.
Since no one needs to go in there besides Alien and I, the bedroom has become a site of neglect. This is largely due to Alien's ritualistic desire to throw his clothes at least five feet from his body, and ANYWHERE but the hamper. In an attempt to coexist with the creature, I have made peace with the garment flinging, but have demanded that the bed be made at all times. He helped make the bed once, right after a trip to Bed Bath and Beyond where we bought disgustingly expensive and luxurious bedding, but this was largely because he wanted to test the sheets. My further requests to make the bed have ended with him rolling about on the covers, cocooning himself, and inevitably throwing himself on the ground, laughing maniacally all the while.
I don't ask him to make the bed anymore.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
The Final Countdown
I have no apologizes if I got that song stuck in your head.
I seem to have hit a lull here in the last days before my wedding. It's like thecalm before the storm no... the silence before the battle no, not that either. My wedding shouldn't be stormy OR warlike. But the waiting and quiet are still a tad eerie.
I must say, calm and quiet are NOT words most use to describe my parent's house. Just last night it was filled with my whole immediate family (rare, even though there are five of us) my Uncle Cousin, RICHIE, and Code B were all over playing Tribond. And while board games are fun, they also turn my whole family into Italians: loud, animated, and occasionally angry. But for some reason, my family becomes crepuscular on Sundays, and everyone retreats for their afternoon nap. Usually I'd be sleeping like they are, but I have ridiculous amounts of pent up energy from wedding planning and an uncustomary afternoon coffee.
Up until now, July has been a whirlwind of plants, ribbons, decisions, and tulle. But now that the crafting is done (mostly) the dress is ready, and my make-up has been chosen, there seems to be an absence in my life. And without Alien here to fill it, it's a little lonely around here.
Fun fact about weddings: even when you're the bride, other people keep existing. Dad's birthday came and went in a quick detour for Indian food, and I probably wouldn't have remembered Older Brother's birthday if I didn't know we were going out for sushi tonight. Neither of them has received a present from me which, however normal it is for a bride to loose focus on non-wedding events, makes me feel like a bad sister.
Very soon, I'm going to hit what Dr. M (my younger brother) calls the "theoretical zero point" when the honeymoon is over. My life has been freakishly organized as of late, and I frankly have NO idea what happens on August 10th, other than Alien and I will be buying groceries. This is likely to be an adventure, since up until now we have been surviving off of the college's food plan. It's possible that our culinary monstrosities will make their way here, in text if not in photography. And after that, I return to the dull and boring life of a college student. Because, as we all know, college life is SO dull and boring =D
I seem to have hit a lull here in the last days before my wedding. It's like the
I must say, calm and quiet are NOT words most use to describe my parent's house. Just last night it was filled with my whole immediate family (rare, even though there are five of us) my Uncle Cousin, RICHIE, and Code B were all over playing Tribond. And while board games are fun, they also turn my whole family into Italians: loud, animated, and occasionally angry. But for some reason, my family becomes crepuscular on Sundays, and everyone retreats for their afternoon nap. Usually I'd be sleeping like they are, but I have ridiculous amounts of pent up energy from wedding planning and an uncustomary afternoon coffee.
Up until now, July has been a whirlwind of plants, ribbons, decisions, and tulle. But now that the crafting is done (mostly) the dress is ready, and my make-up has been chosen, there seems to be an absence in my life. And without Alien here to fill it, it's a little lonely around here.
Fun fact about weddings: even when you're the bride, other people keep existing. Dad's birthday came and went in a quick detour for Indian food, and I probably wouldn't have remembered Older Brother's birthday if I didn't know we were going out for sushi tonight. Neither of them has received a present from me which, however normal it is for a bride to loose focus on non-wedding events, makes me feel like a bad sister.
Very soon, I'm going to hit what Dr. M (my younger brother) calls the "theoretical zero point" when the honeymoon is over. My life has been freakishly organized as of late, and I frankly have NO idea what happens on August 10th, other than Alien and I will be buying groceries. This is likely to be an adventure, since up until now we have been surviving off of the college's food plan. It's possible that our culinary monstrosities will make their way here, in text if not in photography. And after that, I return to the dull and boring life of a college student. Because, as we all know, college life is SO dull and boring =D
Friday, June 24, 2011
Self Declared Mandatory Update
I'm taking an English class (Writing and Communities) and a Philosophy class (Philosophy and Current Issues) at the moment. And I decided to take up a hobby too (spinning). And I'm reading through A Song of Fire and Ice. Oh yeah, AND planning a wedding.
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| Pictured: My Summer |
I don't recommend that. EVER. If you come to a fork in the road, choose one tine, or the other. Don't smash them together into one bastardized eating utensil. It makes for a very, very hectic summer.
 |
| Pic unrelated, but I ALWAYS wanted to see one of these |
Philosophy has been incredibly underwhelming. From 5:30 PM to 9:20 PM (yes, FOUR hours) every Tuesday and Thursday, you can find me sitting in a classroom, sandwiched between Alien and Captain Planet, wishing I was anywhere but there. In class, we cover the readings we were supposed to read for homework. The whole place is full of sheeple: Going with the flow, and silent as the grave. Until we talk about marijuana of course.
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| Everyone has an opinion about marijuana |
Wedding planning has been a roller coaster of cake tasting, decision making, and budget breaking insanity. Thank God for my mother. She's become MORE invaluable (if such a thing is possible) by coming up with ideas, booking venues, and sharing inspiration, free time, and free SPACE (I certainly don't have room to grow fifty plants for centerpieces) We've got just over a month now so things are speeding up, but the ride is a fun one to be certain.
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| Pictured: Mom's back deck |
I don't know WHY I decided to take up spinning... A cunning saleslady at the Siouxland Renaissance Festival taught me how to spin wool into single-ply yarn. Being a knitter, I was THRILLED to learn the new trade, and spent eleven dollars (of money I didn't truly have) on a spindle. Knitting Mama gave me some spare combed top (wool prepared for spinning) for free, which didn't help curb the habit at all.
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| With this simple device, I shall turn fibers everywhere into delicious bundles of knitted objects. |
Antler (Earring's roommate) was getting all fired up about a certain HBO series that was based on a certain book series which he and his friends in western Nebraska seem to worship. So I picked up the first book from the Library. Truth be told, George R. R. Martin is a FANTASTIC writer, he just spices things up with a bit more sex than I care for in my reading. That being said, he has a real knack for speaking as other characters, and drawing you into the world he created in his story. So if you're 14 + and you can handle the occasional sex scene, I'd recommend it.
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| If everyone ELSE gets a picture I suppose Mr. Martin can too |
Finally, we come to my English class. Suffice to say, I can not believe how well the class, and our teacher EFR, has gelled in three weeks. I'd say more, but I just poured my heart out into my contemplative response (we have ten journal pages due every Monday), so you'll get more on that later.
So go out, pick up a new hobby, read a book, or at VERY least, enjoy the weather =)
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