Mysterious Ways

I woke up this morning feeling like a lead weight at the bottom of the ocean. Head pounding, muscles aching, it was going to take a miracle to get me out of bed. I'm not sick; it's just one of those days. I don't experience them often, or ever really, but today is one of those days.

I've got some things on my mind. They seem big to me, but in the scheme of man-kind and the planet I suppose they're not all that serious. Nobody is dying; it's just life stuff. Whatever. But today it's weighing on me more heavily than most days.

I got out of bed (thanks primarily my bladder) well over an hour after my alarm jolted me from whatever all-too realistic, but completely non-sensical dream my subconscious had whisked me away to. I'm an organized (teetering near anal-retentive) person so I already had my outfit planned for the day. Fortunately, my morning mood corresponded with my evening outfit-planning mood so I threw on the pre-planned black pants and oversized black-and-white knit sweater, grabbed my keys, honked at a few bad drivers and found myself sipping two-scoops-too-strong office coffee from my handgun mug at my desk by 10am.

Then I got the email I knew was coming. It was to do with the feelings that I was already having and it added a few ounces of weight to the lead suit I had strapped on under my striped sweater. Anger, sadness, fear, confusion, denial, self-pitty, inspiration, solution. With these emotions swirling through my head I tried to get the corresponding words out on (digital) paper. I was typing fragmented sentences, redundant thoughts and overly dramatic and implausible worst case scenarios to how things would play out. Like a skipping CD, I was experiencing irregular rapid-fire loop thoughts.

Click. iTunes opens. Click click. I pushed play on a song that's tragic in its lyrics and beautiful in its music - the most emotional type of song there is. Tears slipped from my eyes. Happiness, love, contentedness, comfort, security. That's what this song made me feel. The tears were for feelings from the past that I crave to have once again. Silence.

Scroll up, scroll down, long scroll down. Click click. I started a song that I know every word to. A song whose lyrics are of an emotional struggle but whose music is upbeat with an overall tone of finding peace. I turned it up. I sang along as loud as I could (in my head of course; I'm at work after all). My clouded thoughts began to clear. Silence.

Quick scroll up. Click click. Now it's another song I love, but whose lyrics I've never really listened to closely, or cared to learn for that matter. I've only heard the music. The music inspires me. It reminds me of warm summer afternoons with the windows open, planning what's to come - planning for later that evening, three months from now or five years down the road, it's irrelevant. I began bopping my head in tune with the drum beat. The corners of my mouth involuntarily tweaked upwards. I was somewhere else. I was outside of me. I was down at the water's edge tasting the salty air on my lips, I was eating a hamburger in the sunshine, I was getting ready to go out for drinks.

I feel better. Not perfect, but better. I know the answers will come and solutions will be found - that's how life works. And this morning music worked its mysterious ways all the way to my soul, getting me that much closer.

An Open Letter to J.Biebs

I basically skipped my adolescence when it came to endorsing clothing trends. I had neither the money nor the confidence to commit to such fleeting affairs, but I admired those who did. Five inch platform flip flops were all the rage back in my high school days and could be found on the feet of approximately 70% of the female student body. Being taller was a nice temptation, but I couldn't see past the exponentially increased chance of spraining an ankle. Apparently I think like a 40 year old man because my volleyball coach felt the same way and banned his players from wearing them during season. Fyew, dodged the outcast train on that one.


Now to the point of this entry: Justin Bieber, pull up your pants. There are so many things wrong with this look I need to put them in list form:

One - Justin I can see the top of your Little Bieber and it's not cool. Aside from being completely un-flattering, it can't be comfortable having the pressure of a multiple pieces of unforgiving denim pushing up against it all night.

Two - Why is your entire butt outside of your pants, Justin? It's flagrant disregard for the intended function of that article of clothing, not to mention it's downright dangerous. I mean, what if there was a fire in the club and you had to run to get out? You couldn't Justin, you simply couldn't. At best, all you could muster is a penguin's waddle and we all know that's not enough to make it out alive. Don't you want to live, Justin?

Three - Ok, let's assume there is no fire. There will be no running for your life. However, this doesn't mean walking is off the table. Walking is always on the table. Let's say you need to move from the VIP cordoned off bottle service section over to the dance floor to bust a few moves with the ladies. What's that gonna look like to the girl you're walking towards, Justin? What? I'll tell you what it's not going to look like - it's not going to look like a sexy swagger. Your mental self-image will, with 100% certainty, not align with reality on this one. What it is going to look like Justin, is a waddling toddler who has not yet been potty-trained. That's right Justin, you're going to look like a little kid who has just shit himself and is trying to not let it touch his legs.

Four - Justin you're a very wealthy young man; you can afford shirts. They make some really nice ones these days and I'm pretty sure you can even have them custom made to your particular tastes. Yes, yes, we all know you've been spending time at the gym over the last year. You've made it painfully difficult to avoid and we get it by now. Sure, it might have flown during the hot, sticky summer months, but it's Autumn now, Justin - jacket season - and it's time to cover up.

Five - And this is something I know you have little control over so it's a bit of a low blow, but if you could go ahead and start sprouting some facial hair, that would be great. Your milky smooth skin is just another reason I can't take seriously this "thug" persona you're trying so desperately to embody.

Thanks.

The Dumbing Down of America

It's happening. And perhaps the finest example is this season of Jeopardy.

Answer: This beer really does tastes better in Ireland
Question: What is Guinness

Come on, Alex! What happened to the days of regular people watching Jeopardy and declaring themselves the genius of the family after getting 7 correct answers? What happened to questions where the viewer could answer only after pausing and taking an additional 4 minutes to work their way through the double pinned question? What happened to the days of not even knowing the meaning of some of the words contained within the clue? What happened to your mustache?

At this rate, it wont be long before the SNL spoof becomes a reality and we see categories like, FOODS THAT END IN AMBURGER. (link to some laughs)

Note: for the sake of an accurate scientific observation, I hold constant in my analysis, my level of intelligence. I may have picked up a few things here and there along the road of life, but I am definitely forgetting some of the book learnin' I did back in my schooling days.

Looking to the Future

I just watched The Matrix for the first time. I know, I'm 14 years late to the party, but whatever. Anywho, it got me to thinking about our future on this spinning ball of water and dirt:

1. We can not get rid of pay phone booths. They are way to valuable to our future as a human race. Both Dr. Who and the Red Pill folks rely on them for transportation to and from various points.

2. Singularity is happening. We will be plugging ourselves in to some form of electronic device. Soon.

3. Humans are headed underground. No matter the demon, be it aliens or self-created robots, humanity (like rats and other vermin) are headed underground for salvation.

4. We will be hovering and/or flying as means of transportation. I have a little issue with this as I feel we humans have not yet mastered the whole two-dimensional driving thing so adding a third makes me a little nervous. That being said, I don't think every single sci-fi film can be wrong. Maybe when we start plugging ourselves in we learn to drive in all dimensions.

5. Big cozy king size beds are a luxury afforded to a planet with a population of only 7 billion. In the future we will be sleeping in small compact pods barely bigger than our human frame.

6. Food will one day no longer resemble food. It will still contain all the necessary nutrients our now archaic physical bodies require, but it will come in pill, powder, gruel or gel form.

Of all the things mentioned here, what comes next is the most important:

7. The machines we create will overpower us at some point in the future. It is my belief that truth is always stranger than fiction and therefore, the crazy whacked out "realities" that we are creating in films like Terminator, Matrix, Blade Runner and Battlestar Galactica will be actual realities at some point.

I caution all robot-creators: Please for the love of humanity - quite literally - please build a non electronic, non hackable, fail-proof deactivation button into all your creations. And test it. Lots and lots of times to make sure it's functioning and can not, I repeat can not, malfunction. It's the old measure twice cut once rule but for the future.

Christmas Past

Christmas in the 50's just seems so precious; just look how glamorous Lucy's christmas was. The men were scrubbed and spiffed and put together and debonair. The women were beautiful in fur and pearls and tailored dresses made from quality fabrics. Together they were ready to celebrate this wonderful time of year drinking gimlets and stringing popcorn.

I want a Christmas like in the old fashioned movies - only with no poverty and thoughts of suicide (It's a Wonderful Life) or Santa Claus trials (Miracle on 34th Street). Just the good stuff. I want muted reds and greens, candle-lit rooms, tinsel draped trees, and Burl Ives echoing from a 2 ton stereo system in the formal dining room. 

I want to go to sleep, excitedly, on December 24th in my silk nightgown and little ringlet pigtails. I want to wake up to a wooden train set erected around the base of the tree. I don't want to see or need a single battery or outlet after opening my presents. I want for us all to tinker quietly in the living room with our new possessions while the music flows gently through the house - for mom to read her new book and for dad to put his new shoe shine kit to use.

A Sort of Scientific Neverland

 Here's what we need to work on, scientists: Stop baby animals from growing up.

I want to have a kitten but I don't want to have a cat. I want to cuddle with a puppy but do not want to deal with a dog. And I want to look at pictures of baby lions and baby monkeys playing together happily and not their grownup versions fighting.

I know what you're thinking, "but if we stop all the babies from growing up, then how are we going to have more babies to 'aww' and 'oooo' at?" Simple: I don't want to do it to ALL of the baby animals out there, just some of them.

If scientists aren't on board for this idea, then I'm gonna need one of my entrepreneurial friends to come up with a Rent-a-Runt business wherein people can rent very small, very cute baby animals for a few hours of joy.

I mean come on, what's cuter here? Unless this older version is your own pet and you're simply charmed due to the memories associated with the animal, you can not sit there and honestly tell me that full size animals are better...well, the grown-up lion is pretty rad, but unfortunately we can't really keep those as pets, now can we.

Inside Thoughts

Am I a terrible person if I make rash, snap judgements about someone in my head? If I make mean and snarky comments about them in my head? Am I a terrible person if I do all that inside my head, but then give everyone a totally fair and open chance when it comes to my outside-my-head actions?

Keep Your Eyes Peeled

For this precocious up-and-comer with real chops!

Prediction:

Let it be known today, on this the 31st day of January in the year of our Lord 2013, that I predict Icona Pop's I Love It to be the next here-comes-summer, time-to-crack-those-winter-sealed-windows-and-rock-out song.

It was released back in November, but I think it will start making its way across our radio waves prettttty soon. It's so poppy and upbeat, but keeps a slight rock edge that sort of stabilizes it. That same feature will also allow it to get airtime on a wide array of stations from pop and dance to rock and alternative. Hooray for Swedish music! And hey, if I'm wrong and North America never adopts it, "I don't care, I love it!"

My Experience with Time Travel

I found a time machine and it's readily accessible to most suburban dwelling North Americans. In fact, there are hundreds of them. Can you believe that? Hundreds of time machines that nobody cares to speak about. Well I'm here to put a stop to that and share my discovery with the world 8 people who will hopefully share it with the world.

Now before we proceed, I must caution you that there is one small glitch with this time machine: the "travel to" date seems to be stuck in the mid 90's. I'm sorry if that disappoints some of you, but for the rest, please enjoy the journey.

I approached the machine with all the vim and vigor of a kid first stepping out on her own. I walked with purpose and pulled open the time machine doors with the confidence. As I stepped inside a new world appeared before my eyes. A world forgotten yet still familiar; a world that moved at a slower place; a world where people had time for other people. I cautiously took my first steps in this new-old world when I was greeted by the comforting smile of a stranger. She asked how I was doing and if I needed help. She offered thoughts, shared kind words and led me in the right direction. Her kindness so threw me that it took several minutes for me to notice the lime green scrunchie holding back her long frizzy hair and her custom appliqué sweatshirt. We chatted for a few minutes longer and as we parted ways she smiled and wished me luck in my endeavors. I smiled back a bright, warm smile not often offered to strangers. It felt nice.

I wandered on, still riding the high of this interaction. I had what I needed, I could go, but I was feeling a part of something bigger and decided to spend a little more time in this strange yet wonderful world. I turned a corner and my eyes were filled with the glimmering rich colors hundreds of shades of paint. My mind began to swirl with thoughts. I could do anything, make anything, be anyone. Creativity abounds. I pulled my brain back into my body and gathered my thoughts. I turned the corner and once again, was struck by the towering walls of creativity. Look at all this wood just begging to be painted back to life. Look at all these blank shirts screaming to be personalized. Look at all this paper just begging to become the foundation for a permanent memory bank, and all these stickers longingly waiting to enhance those memories with cuteness. There's scissors that cut jagged lines, there's ink pads in gold and silver and magenta and peach. The possibilities are endless.

I'm approached again - this time by someone even nicer. This time I immediately notice her wardrobe - a definitively hand knit sweater. It's beautiful. She's in her 20's, but she's an old soul of 60 or 70. She strikes up a conversation with me, asks where I've been and what I want to make of it. She herself is like a mini-time machine for she is the scrapbook expert. She will help others remember the past forever. She takes us back to a better time and place. Her enthusiasm and her sincerity begin to worry me. Am I being had? Could this be real? Was there a glitch in the time-space continuum? I began to feel the 2013 version of me taking over again. I grew weary of her cheer, questioned her authenticity and found myself accusing her of stealing my time. I had to go, I had to get back to 2013, I was testing the limits of my travel and my body wasn't reacting favorably. I ran to the front of the machine and burst through the doors. I found myself standing alone and cold, shivering in a vast empty parking lot. I turned around to see what was left of my journey. The curvy, glowing red letters sent a shiver through my body. I turned away again. I left Michael's that night feeling sadly nostalgic for the way things were. I was a meaner, harder, more jaded person and I knew it.  The world keeps spinning, people keep changing; we can't all live in a Michael's craft store world forever.