May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day
For Mothers Day I thought I'd share an ever-so rare picture of my mom SMILING in a picture, rather than making the infamous "oh no you are taking my picture! spontaneous awkward" face. Plus she's there with the dog, who basically acts as a permanent infant daughter. Oh so maternal!
Happy mothers day and go do something nice for yo mama! I for one am going to help Dear Boyfriend cajole his younger brother into cleaning up the house before their mom gets back in town so she doesn't have to wreck a weekend's relaxation with a flurry of cleaning.
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May 09, 2008
I've been waiting and waiting for a Friday morning when I had enough time to post these gorgeous blue-tailed Utah birds. I have no idea what they are called, but they were all over the Weber State campus. They were pretty big too. I have decided to pretend they were a magical cross between a blue jay and a crow bred by Mormons for some interesting purpose.
See all the other magically enhanced creatures over on the Friday Ark!
(And there are two more shots of these beautiful birds after the jump)
Posted by Spike at 10:07 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
May 08, 2008
Sweet Bus Stop Surprise
I've been riding the bus this week since the weather is nice and I don't have to get up so early. I like the bus for meeting interesting characters and having little adventures and actually interacting with my city. Usually my anecdotes, I'm sure you know since I've shared a few, involve me getting hit on a lot or something of that ilk. But today I have a really wonderful bus stop anecdote.
I just barely missed the bus I was hoping to show up in time for, and had to sit and wait a while. Just as I sat to hang out under the bus sign, it began to rain. I tried to arrange my things so they'd stay as dry as possible and settled in for a damp wait. There was a large group of folks at a picnic table several yards away that provided interesting people watching. They were drinking from a bottle in a paper bag and shouting at one another and kept "crossing the street," read: flinging themselves into the road and almost getting hit by cars. I was relieved when they decided to stay put under their umbrella. I was so wrapped up in nervously watching their attempts to help a very slow Yoda-like old woman crossing the street I didn't notice an older gentleman crossing the street in my peripheral vision.
He came up and held a very large blue and white striped umbrella over my head, and explained that he had seen my sitting in the rain and since he didn't have anywhere to be for a while thought he'd keep me dry until my bus came. He sat down with me and held the umbrella over both of us and we chatted as much as his tendency to mumble would allow. He used to live in Florida apparently, and was having some medical trouble, and had taken the day off of work because his arm was bothering him a great deal. When my bus rolled up, he introduced himself and shook my hand and wished me well before ambling on down to wherever he was originally headed. A real class act.
The past few older fellows I've interacted with have included the belligerent fool in the Chicago airport and a fellow who decided to lurk outside my dressing room at Unclaimed Baggage in Scottsboro and kept asking how whatever I tried on looked, because he had wanted to see for himself. Therefore this sweet old gentleman with the umbrella is a real blessing, restoring my faith in older gents and people in general. I hope he gets back to Florida soon like he wanted to, so he can soak up the sun and good vibes. Wherever he ends up, I wish him the best.
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May 07, 2008
Wordless Sushi
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May 06, 2008
Hillary Provides Would-Be Voters With Alarm Clock
Long, long ago, I foolishly went to college for one semester in the snowy, desolate mountains of Boone, North Carolina. While there, I responsibly registered to vote so that I might participate in local elections. Despite having lived in Tennessee for 2 years since then and voted many a time here, I am apparently still on the books in North Carolina. Cue Hilary Clinton desperately calling me via an automated call center once or twice every day for the past week. It begins as exactly 9:40 every morning, when she sweetly combines both campaigning and a wake-up call service. I don't even need my alarm clock anymore! For the record, Obama has called me only twice-- and one of those was an actual human being.
I wish Tennessee hadn't foolishly decided to hold its primaries before North Carolina, because even if I weren't already an Obama girl and if I were the most die-hard Hilary supporter ever, this would have totally had me running to Obama's camp as fast as my ire and dislike of the phone could carry me. Let me vote again! Please! Anything to express how off put I am by Hilary calling me more often than that desperate guy who wouldn't believe me when I said "No, I don't want to go out with you!" a dozen times when I was 15.
Posted by Spike at 10:42 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
May 05, 2008
A Secret Confession
I have a confession to make.
I love being alone.
This is very surprising to me. I've spent most of my life trying to avoid being alone. As the odd ball in elementary school, cliques and best friends forever were a sore point. In high school I unconsciously sabotaged the friendships I had built up because I had a bad case of the dark-and-mysterious-loner syndrome. Whatever the reason for not being a social butterfly, I have often felt the effects as acutely as a dangling hangnail. This of course led to several years of the all-I-want-is-a-boyfriend blues and a whole bunch of contradictory feelings about wanting to be popular and well-liked, but not really knowing how to or wanting to play the field.
But something has overcome me this week. I suddenly, for the first time in my 21 some-odd years of life, love me some autonomy. I relish riding the bus, talking long solitary walks, eating in restaurants all by my not-so-lonesome self and sitting outside with only a book for company. This has no doubt perplexed friends, family, and Dear Boyfriend. Whatever has overtaken me has clearly been creeping up for some time. My roommates no doubt noticed my frequent escapes from the apartment, as welcoming and jovial as it was, for somewhere offering a less intense social experience than a small apartment shared by four boisterous girls. My father wondered why I was moping when I sequestered myself in my bedroom with my computer and a good book the other evening. And poor Dear Boyfriend has been mystified all week about why his usually affectionate and enthusiastic girlfriend has gone into hibernation.
Perhaps I'm detoxing from an unusually social semester. Living with your best friends leads to a lot of hanging out, as does having your boyfriend actually live in the same city as you. Perhaps I actually made friends with myself last summer trekking across the United Kingdom with only a notebook and peanut butter sandwiches to offer conversation and affection. Perhaps some mental tendon snapped and the days of an almost canine-like desire for constant contact with and reassurance from others have come to an end.
Whatever happened or why, I love being by myself..
Posted by Spike at 04:59 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack