Eternal Questions. And If There Are Answers, Where Can I Find Them? And How Did You?

meh.

why is it.

that it's only ten percent?
that we must suffer some burden to be here? and that with this comes so much responsibility?
that nature is so amazing, and it's around, and it's not like it's hidden, and you think everyone would want to hang out there forever and always because it's amazing and easy and free, and yet, every time i go i am the only one there? and would i like it so much if there were more people? and would i - obviously - like them because they'd have to be ten percent to be there in the first place?
that i still wouldn't stop to talk to them?
that we can recognize ten percent without even talking to them? and

why is it.

that i refuse to do what i want to do about it even though i know it's what i'm supposed to do?

what are these rules?

and why do i conform?

. . the question is what brought us here in the first place, though isn't it? . . why?

these ideas didn't necessarily come from me. i just recorded them.

and just where do ideas come from anyway?

and just where do all the paper clips go?

did i strike any balance today? here? and just what and why does that matter?

and can you feel it even though you may not exactly understand? exactly understand?

exaaaactly.

meh.

** if you learn to let it go, that's how you sleep. **

Celebratory Conga

i won a hundred dollars. i won a hundred dollars.

said, of course, to a conga line beat while i roll my arms around each other, then make like i am tipping my hat from side to side while touching alternating heels to the floor on either side. this is of course, all in my head.

well, no. not all. i did win the hundred dollars. but the celebratory conga is all done in my head.

today, i went to play bingo. the first attempt at infiltrating the bingo world was a huge disaster. apparently we showed up too late and we had already walked in to creepy stares and purchased our bingo dabbers when we were loudly informed that we could no longer buy tickets to the session (around two hours) while everyone continued to stare at us. mind you, they stare at you all the time so it's not like one stare versus another stare really means anything different. this is what they do. they play bingo and stare at people. it's not a game that requires much sociality. in fact, it's a might of a hindrance. i almost missed my bingo today for talking. the caller was mad and told everyone that it was a missed bingo, when i already didn't stand out enough as a new face playing only a half. and one with only one bingo dabber and zero troll dolls at that. i was blaspheming in the church of bingo. shes's got bingo?!

a: well, i've gotta run. i'm going to bingo.
church director in the church basement: church and then bingo. you're a real old lady.
c: oh and you already have the cats!

basically, though. i love bingo. even though it was a missed bingo, i still got my money. the lady, i think, thought that s - working as a volunteer bingo card girl - did not call it loud enough the first time, and that it took until the next ball was called that she spoke up. but this is not true at all. i was just talking to c and s and didn't notice that little N30 at the very bottom of my card, which of course, was the second last ball to be called. and then i wanted to take a moment to check that i did indeed have two lines, because i sure as hell didn't want to draw more attention to myself, being the bingo blashphemer, by calling a wrong bingo and slowing down the precious precious gambling. so i called it late. i didn't think it might cost me the prize - still unsure if that is actually the rule - or make the caller lady get so upset. if there is no consequence to a 'missed bingo' - as they call it - then her calling attention to it was just unneccessary. apparently, i hear from s that caller lady is going deaf and i guess is a little sensitive about it and gets defensive when she doesn't hear something - or in this case, thought she didn't hear something. she really gave s a bawling out about it. it was pretty hilarious. and i got my money.

i won a hundred dollars. i won a hundred dollars. *conga in my head*

for all the games after that, i kept imaginary conga-ing. and i didn't care if i won. it would have been a super huge bonus - and in the case of the jackpot round, a thousand dollar bonus. i was going to buy a bass guitar for me and c and s. it would have been awesome. but even just thinking about that was fun. i didn't expect to win at all.

i won a hundred dollars. i won a hundred dollars.

that's still fun. bingo is fun.

if i were in to gambling, i would play bingo. you'd probably lose your money a lot slower.

i'd probably be in to horse racing, too.

i am going to ride a horse this summer. i am going to do a lot of things this summer, but this was added to the list today. apparently s rides horses. man. who knew? i might have known that at one point. but i guess what shocked me now about the information is that i was basically ordered to go horse back riding with s - have i mentioned i love that girl. not that i needed ordering.

when i was little. i have no idea how old but in the ten's. (as in eleven to fourteen). i wanted to ride horses so bad. i wanted to ride horses so bad and my parents knew it. one day, i got the special little horse riding helmet for my birthday, or something. the hat represented the horse back riding lessons i was to receive in the future - like the picture of the keyboard i got, the never materialized.

but then. one day i left my shoes outside. come to think of it, i think one of my siblings was being dumb and put my shoes outside, but because they had done it i refused to go out and get them. well, of course: it rained. of course. so then. because i had wasted money so frivilously like that, i was no longer worthy of the horse back riding lessons.

eff.

i used to take that helmet out and put it on. i held onto it in the hopes that one day i still might get those lessons.i even kept it for a few years after it didn't fit me anymore. and i would still take it out and balance it on my head as far as it could go. it was a weird feeling inside that helmet.

and then i didn't think about horse riding for years and years and years. and somewhere along the lines i lost my courage and it seems a little scary to me now. but i am still excited. i think i will love it. i think it will be something that is missing from my life. i think it will be exhilerating. i think it'll great vibe with the earth.

you wouldn't believe the places i've been in twenty-four hours. it's a ride this mind of mine.

A Walk In The Forest

check it out. check it out. check it out. i found a picnic table! in my backyard!!

ok. so not exactly 'my backyard', more 'collective backyard'. so.

i found a picnic table! in my backyard!!

i also found the coolest forest. which basically, if you look at the way it's oriented, it's basically meant for me. or at least from what i can tell with my sense of geography. but from what i can tell, my house is at the centre of the arching path of the forest. if back yards were in large rings, separated a distance from your house. that would be mine.

i found a forest! in my backyard!!

and i've made a promise with myself to always stop to watch red birds.

i can't believe it, though. and the fact that i knew before about these places - not the picnic table - it never really cornered me in the right way.

i'm an effing forest, man. i'm an effing picnic table in a ravine, man! you are stuck here in this corner. notice me!

i feel like i did not fully take advantage of my backyard in the time that i have lived here - mostly forever. but then again, i do remember spending some significant time down there. it was very different then. it took me a while to equate the two forests, past and present, to each other.

but could i really have forgotten the secrets and location of the forest all this time? what did i know then, that i don't know now? and why can't i remember?

i am cold from the rain, still. i am still from the cold rain.

Foot Heaven

why didn't i think of this before?!

i found what is certainly the answer to my prayers. and not just my immediate problems, either, such as the foot cramp - though this is what i thought of it for. but this may very well be: the answer to all my prayers.

i used to come home from school every thursday and turn on my foot massage bath. this is how i would spend my thursday night. soaking my feet, and then relaxing in the aftermath. i got a foot massage bath from my university roomates because my feet would always be sore throughout the winter, because of the extra foot work that is needed to nagivate the snow and ice on the long walk to school wearing inappropriate footwear.

serves me right.

what do i care? i have a foot massage bath.

but i had forgotten where it was, if i had brought it home from school when i left there for lack of room. i had forgotten i ever owned one. and here i am complaining about my two day foot cramp - due to wearing inappropriate footwear on a hike in the forest.

serves me right.

what do i care? i have a foot massage bath.

this is going to be my new activity. bored? foot massage bath. there are multiple settings.

we'll have to see if this actually helps my foot cramp.

Accidental Accents

i canna teven huack in this room. i canna teven huack. clo zevryhuair.

say it really breathy. you can't h elp but be french.

i desperately need to clean my room. which basically entails putting clothes away which, if my heart's in it, i can do in ten minutes. i should just do it. why put off today?

i resolve to do it. it's already past my bedtime. what's another thirty minutes for a cleaner, more organized weekend? it will be worth it in the morning and the clean room sort of shocks you for a minute. you are wondering where you fell asleep the night before. then you realize this is your room, only clean, and you feel just a little saner, and a little more able to cope with the day.

not that i can't cope with the day.

i can cope with anything.
and even when i think i can't.
that's still something i like.
about me.

contentment. that's what it's all about.

contentment among chaos.
it's beautiful.

Ruined Moment.s.

when did that happen?
where did that entire chocolate bunny go?

and when it's done, it's like it never even happen.ed.

and when it comes back to your attention, you have a hard time believing.
it ever came from you.

it's funny how we divide our lives up into chunks.
day. week. month.

when we can only ever really live in the moment.

people say.

live in the moment.

people say.

but we can only ever really live in the moment.
but we can ruin the moment.

i just ruined the moment.

'the moment'.

we ruin every moment.

'every moment' is 'the moment'.

i just ruined the moment.

a month is like this.
and i never get anything done.
we spend one to thirteen all.
it's only the beginning.
we spend eighteen to thirtiesh all.
i'll do it next month.

leaves us only about eight days to ever get anything done.

it's a wonder i get anything done at all.

that's about sixty days a year.

and a lifetime every day.
someone once told me forty four, to be exact.
but i was never one for exactitude.

someone once told me a lot of things.
but i was never one for a lot of things.

i'm one for a lot of things.

but they exist only in my memory.
without me.
what a loss.

an infinite number of moment.s.

Double Purple! Jackpot!

it's not real outside right now. it's far out.
like. could it get any more abstract out right now?
that sky. those trees.

could you imagine sitting down at a blank canvas one day, and not knowing anything about how it looks outside right now, and then just put that stuff down on paper. it's far out, man. it's trippy.

the sky so real looks almost faker than drawings. and the trees? be.zar.

i love walking.

i love walking.

did i say: i love walking?

i feel better. i feel good.

and the light followed me.

it is interesting always to remember that always people are not you.
it may seem that sometimes you're both on the same page, but no, babe, that's just you.
you may sometimes be somewhere in the same chapter. times not in the same book.
and. though mostly i can at least see you, i must say that at times i just can't look.


i'm inclined to think that for most things, i'm on the right page. or at least closer to it. but this is exactly what makes me me and you you and us all different.
how interesting . ?

Chocolate Balls

my favourite thing about easter - well, perhaps i shouldn't say my favourite thing - is the eggs. not the decorated ones, or the plastic ones that you hide (or if you are my sister, you hang them from a tree for, er, decoration?). i'm talking about those little addictive chocolate eggs that everyone's got hanging out in little candy dishes around this time of the year. i simply cannot stop eating them. i eat them for breakfast, i eat them for lunch, i eat them for dinner, and then snack and dessert between each of these meals. i eat them until i feel sick, and then i lay off for about five minutes and drink something liquid, and then i eat em again. i just can't help myself. for me, it's chocolate in its most ideal form. the melt at just the right pace for my chocola-impatience so that i never have to bite down into the chocolate, because i hate biting down into chocolate. (i don't know why. i'm weird like that i guess. don't ever give me fridge or freezer chocolate, because it would be worse than having no chocolate at all. and don't ever give me chocolate ice cream because it's worse than having no ice cream at all... but that's another story for another time). and they melt at just the righ consistency and texture. (i'm picky about texture and consistency).

so yes. here i am sitting at the computer, chocolate egg wrappings everywhere and i have nothing else to talk about because my brain is turned to chocolate and all i can think about is how i feel chocola-ill but i'm out of upstairs-chocolate and will have to stop typing so that i can go downstairs and get some more.

and then there's halloween with those little chocolate pumpkin balls. different shape, same chocola-goodness.

The Proof is in the Pudding

happy easter.

there is so much you don't notice when you look around.
and when you don't look around it's the much harder.
did you notice the butterfly?
did you notice the lights flicker?
did you notice how you felt?

there are so many ideas floating around that it's hard to make sense of them.
there are so many butterflies.
and the lights keep changing.
it's hard to make sense of it.
but then again. it's been staring me in the face.
and speaking to me clearly through my left ear.

it's hard to make sense of forgein objects and foreign languages.

there is no such thing as a foreign language or foreign object when you are a justborn. though some would argue that everything is foreign. but how do you know where we just came from as justborns? how do you know things you cannot possibly know? how do you claim to justify that which is beyond earth with earthly ideas and concepts?

science is just as far as we can tell at the moment.

and at once, the world was flat.
at once, we drilled skull holes to combat mental disease.

we have progressed. but there is much we do not know. there is much we will never know in our time on earth.

never was there such a nonsense phrase as 'science proves'.
your idea of proof does not stand up to my ideals of rigourous experimentation. my idea of proof does not stand up to your ideals of rigourous experimentation.

what is science? and where is the proof?

en plus one
e equals em see squared.

it's like a funny little joke. it's cute. this game.

The Parable of the Music Video

hellooooo party people!

i don't even know what that was about. maybe it's the music videos. we're a music video generation. i'd say the mtv generation, but c'mon people, i am canadian. (canada is a pretty word). we didn't even have mtv. and the mtv that i've seen doesn't even have music videos and when it does it has picture-in-picture recordings of the 'viewer' screaming - why do they always have to scream?) - about why they like the video/artist and/or why they requested the video and for whom.

i requested will smith cause i think he gets jiggy with it!!!!! woooooooooo.

eff. that's just terrible.

c: i like to say things like 'fucking fantastic' - on his usage of the word fuck.

so, i guess mtv-generation doesn't mean the same thing as music video-generation. mtv is less music-television and more voyeurism-television; they have way more shows about celebrities lives and other weird things than they do music videos. and muchmusic, though they do tend to pick up some of the voyeurism shows from mtv, still balance it off with a healthy dose of music videos. and quite a bit of canadian content, which means an entirely different kind of music than is portrayed by mtv.

i just remembered that i did a paper on this content in my last year of university. it took me a while to realize that.

but i wish i could explain to you my memory. it is multifacted. and highly advanced. and yet, highly inferior. i guess this explains the psychology world's fascination with memory.

but getting back to muchmusic. i am watching it right now. and i don't get to sit around and watch television, let alone muchmusic.

bizzle, fizzle, rizzle, i don't even know what i'm saying, i apologize if i offended anybody.
you're cute, i like you snoopy.


nobody drops money on a girl than snoop doggy dog.

then justin dances, and that's okay.

shoobeedoobeedoopdoodoo.
i have never heard anyone shoobeedoobeedoopdoodoo in a snoop video.

i don't even care what he's saying, it's gonna be something fun.

so justin stops moving his lyrics, but he's still singing lyrics. i wish i could do that.

i am watching muchmusic video on trial which is the kind of non-purely-music-video television muchmusic makes: a buch of comedians or other-professional or non-professional persons, who happen to also be hilarious and they just watch the video and talk about it. but this show is pretty much fantastic, because it's hilarious and you get to watch music videos.

but it's probably like rick mercer and hard to explain.

ah. she remembers to feed the horses.

and of course, you need to see the video. i tried not to watch the show for so long.

and. the lesson. good, it came. i don't always follow it through.

i should watch the rick mercer show.

it's cute. life. it's a wee little game. you just have to look out for the clues and follow through.

what is that movie called about some guy and investigating coincidences. and how did it end?

awesome, he is busta-ing out the barret.

i know a girl that would be really good at this show.

eff, it's hilarious. well. i've learned my lessons, anything leftover was just a step, so loose ends don't need to be wrapped up.

this video gets four fat guys touching each other out of nine.

i have no idea what has been said here. i was keeping watch at the door. i cannot be held responsible for something my self has said.

Birthday Wrapping

i am definately sick. i don't know how or when it happened. but somehow i caught something and i didn't notice because it felt something like allergies. but the sore throat tipped me off that it was something more.

to think i made it through the whole month at the daycare with the little germs running around and wiping their noses on my sleeves, and i didn't catch anything. i never catch things. any time i am sick, i seem to have produced it myself. and now i have to sing tonight, and sing tomorrow on a sore throat. meh. whatevs. i'll be fine.

i've noticed that people's favourite thing to do is complain. truly. it's pretty much how everyone's conversations go. no one tells anyone the good things that are happening, it's just one person complaining to another and then the other trying to outcomplain them. i wasn't complaining back there. just informing. in fact, there is really nothing to complain about because whenever i get sick, basically the only difference - because i sneeze and have sinus problems all the time because of allergies (not complaining, just informing) - is the sore throat, which luckily for me, only bothers me in the early morning and after eight pee emm. i'm special like that. along with my magic blood that has special mosquito bite elixer so that any one of my mosquito bites last only forty minutes and then disappears. i know, i know. i'm special and lucky... i should probably complain so that you people don't get jealous.

maybe that's why people do it...

i doubt it, though.

anyway, let me make you all more jealous and tell you about my birthday. well, first of all, i have the cutest friends. i got clothes from s who bought them for me months ago when i was trying stuff on in her store and then saved them for me, and c bought me water colour pencil crayons, like the super special kind, along with a water colour paper pad because i had told them all about my pencil crayon obsession and i am sure s remembered and told c what to get me. lol. gotta love girlfriends, and gotta love girlfriends that still love me even though i am a girl friend. complicated stuff this boyz-and-gurlz business. anyway, i’m just kidding about c, he prolly remembered all on his lonesome about the pencil crayons. either way, i love them both dearly. oh and did i mention the pin-ya-ta… how the hell do you spell that? oh, that squiggly accent i’m sure… but anyway. that was my first ever piñata and it was specially filled for me and it was nemo the fish, which is funny because c never did go to see that movie in theatres with me. but i have forgiven him for that. (sort of). so, magical walk in the park and the forest and piñata smashing on the basketball court and then candy eating off the ground of the park and then imagining kids eating candy they find on the park floor. delightful.

so, this couldn’t get much better, could it? well, you are wrong. there is only one way to describe the rest of the night: incredelicious.

incredelicious.
incredelicious.
incredelicious.

twice baked potatoes. mmmm. green beans. mmmm. cauliflower and broccoli with cheese sauce. mmmm. cooked ham. mmmm. chocolate bestest cake in the world. mmmm. and my mom made this soup that she hated, but s and i were like ‘this is the best soup ever’. it was carrot-apple-onion cream soup. it was like eating dessert, first and in a bowl. triple mmmmm. it was so delicious, i ate too much of it, but still had room for way too much food. and then even one piece of cake.

and then i exploded.

we all did… it was a mess.

A Birthdaze song

it's my birthday, it's my birthday!
la la la la la
it's my birthday, it's my birthday!
la la la la la

i am le twenty five, today. umm. eek!

i love birthdaze.

it's my birthday, it's my birthday!
la la la la la
it's my birthday, it's my birthday!
la la la la la

Manic - a case study: bipolar disorder vs. seasonal affective disorder

i have incredi-friends.

incredi-things are happening.

i have incredi-trends.

incredi-things are happening.

nothing else matters.

or more specifially, nothing else should matter.

will not, won't not. will not, won't not.
will not, won't not. will not, won't not.

incredibly, it's past my bed. again.
it's all happening to fast. again.
time spinning. again. again.
again. again.

i'm horribly addicted to sunshine, perhaps.


eff, i know some things about some things.

Daycare Lessons

i am not in the writing mood. i don't know what to write. and i can't even see the screen clearly because i moved my room around in the winter and did not foresee the terrible glare from the window on the computer screen. woah is me.

but not really.

i am officially finished with daycare. who knows if i'll ever do it again. who knows if i'll ever even have children... well, not cause the daycare turned me off them... just who knows. cause you know... who knows. if anything, the daycare experience showed me that i owe it to the world to have kids. cause i think i would do it well. here is what i've learned. or already know and just feel more forcefully about:

1. children should not be indulged. they are like fruit and this is why we call it spoiled. but spoiling a kid is not just giving it lots of toys. it's not just the big things. it's every day stuff, like always giving them five more minutes or promising things in exchange for doing mundane things, like sleeping and eating. children who are indulged will constantly seek indulgement. they have no limits because you have not set them, and they will constantly push the limits that they themselves are making. you may think you are manipulating the kid so it will do what you want. but really, it is manipulating you. children who are not indulged do not seek indulgement.

2. there is a difference between indulgement and attention. and there is a difference between good attention and bad attention. the problem with the worlds children right now is that they don't get enough good attention and so they are forced to look for bad attention and the parents get sucked right in. tantrums do not need hugging and talking and yelling in return. they need nothing. if you are in a public place, the child should be removed from the environment and then just left to it's own devices in a car or some other place. there's no need to stare at them or talk to them. just sit with your back to them and read a book or something. they will learn that tantrums don't get them anywhere, and it won't be a problem for long. this also works for sleeply time tantrums. if you keep you stay in the room but don't acknowldge the child at all and let them cry, stopping only to put the child back in bed if he/she gets out. this is a painful experience if you have taught your child endurance in provoking negative attention by giving in to these types at antics. but if you have not, this behavious will not last long because the tantrum itself tires the child out. they will learn quickly to go to bed without making a fuss. (incidentally, i tried this with one of the kids at the camp. just stood at the door with my back to him, waiting for him to sleep. every day after that, if he was supposed to be napping and i went in to see him and he was awake, he would instantly lie down and pretend like he was sleeping).

3. good attention is a whole nother animal. and if you do it right, you won't have to even worry about giving in to the negative attention tactics. praise your child. every crappy little piece of art. every time they point to the square and say square (or that sound that you know to mean square but really sounds like 'ta' or some other sound). every time they learn a new behaviour. do not go the route of giving presents or other rewards as praise. there is a little thing i learned in my psych education: if a child likes going to school and performs well, and you give the child a small reward every time it goes to school and performs well, eventually the child will come to believe that he/she does not actually like school, but only likes the reward. and essentially you have turned the child off something it loved. it's called intrinsic motivation.

4. the best response for a boo-boo is a soothing 'it's ok'. no sudden movements or loud noises or wailing 'oh my god are you ok?'. i assume that you can all tell the difference between a serious injury and a non-serious injury (though i do admit that little things falling over always looks more serious because the little things look so breakable... they are not as breakable as all that by the time they are moving around). If it is serious, you and the child will know. panic on your poart will only worsen the situation and turn said child into an attention seeking drama queen. a child must learn to fall. and you must learn to let them. it will happen. again and again and again and again. it's no big deal. some of the kids at the daycare were totally cool about falling and others would make a huge deal every time they so mouch as grazed an edge of furniture. you tell me what kind of kid you want. i assure you i already know the answer.

5. blankies are... well. from what i can tell. universal. and simple. and handy. i'm sure it has something to do with smell and such. so if you are going to leave a kid at a daycare or some other environment that is not home, best to have an extra blanky that the child is comfortable with and has been around the house for a while so that it smells like mom and dad and home (maybe the parents could sleep with it)

6. foam = the best. foam puzzles, foam toys, foam books... easily washable and awesome for chewing which is what kids do most at young ages. with all other things being undeveloped, their mouths are the prime source of discovery.

7. kids <3 fruit... just keep on feeding it to them so they continue to like it throughout their lives. feed them well from the start, because you alone determine what your child will like to eat. don't give into picky eating (my mom did, and it took me 21 years to even attempt to eat a mushroom. or a peach. or a strawberry... i had to rediscover food in my twenties. which is hard to do because you are so scared of trying it.) anyway, don't feed them junk. pop was not made for kids. foods high in sugar, which of course are marketed towards kids, are not in fact for kids. you will thank me for this later. cause it may be easy to get a kid to eat sweets, but then you will have to deal with the sugar high. and of course, a diet consisting of bad food is responsible for many childhood problems, including ad(h)d, and obesity. kids are getting unhealthier all the time. don't help the trend.

8. TV is an easy option... for robots. the most depressing thing about the daycare was watching the kids respond to the television. they were mesmerized. it didn't matter what was on or if they were only able to watch for twenty-five seconds. they simply CAN'T tear themselves away. it's disgusting. my kids will not watch tv. there are so many other ways to spend the time.

9. multiple languages. if you can, get your kid into as many as possible. they may start to say words slower because they have so many words for one object, but their cognitive abilites in many regards will be strengthened. and all the research in this area shows that the child, in time, can sort them out easily and is fluent in all languages presented to it before the critical period. there is no way to really overload a child, i don't think. again, my psych background tells me that every child is born knowing and being able to distinguish every different language sound that can be found all over the whole entire globe. this is amazing because as you grow older, you lose that ability and can only distinguish the sounds of the language you have grown up with. so all those little clicks in hindi that sound the same to all of us. well, a teeny tiny child, not long in this world knows em all. they can hear them all. trouble is just keeping that ability up. and it turns out it is not much trouble at all, if you are able to have your kid spend regular time with someone who speaks only that language to them. i believe the best way to do it is to have a language per person, so that they are able to keep some order of it. mommy speaks french, daddy speaks english. i don't know what else. many languages is ideal. but i guess it's not always realistic.

10. music. music. music. music. my kids will listen to music always. and all different kinds. every different kind. they will also have so many instruments at their disposal. i will not force them to play. because forcing a child takes the fun out of it (which is the reason why i stopped playing the piano and highly regret that now. they took the fun out of it for me. i could have been a wild musician.... but alas. i settle for mediocrity now). anyway, i will let them choose what they want to do. provide hella options (and this goes for sports, too and other hobbies). give the child options, and let them choose.

11. don't let your own ideas of success and failure blind you to the infinite possibilities of your child. unconditional love and support. this is the key. someone told me a joke yestereday:

how old are your children?
well, the doctor is three and the lawyer is five.

it's funny. disturbing funny. and very true. which is, i guess, what makes it disturbing. most parents want their kids to make a lot of money. if you raise your kid right, they won't be interested in money and material things. so they prolly won't be hard pressed to get into a high money-making industry. you should be proud of them. not unsupportive. you raise an artist and you, you lucky devil, have had a part in saving the world. because if any of you have been reading... art will save the world. trust me on this one, folks. it's something i know in my core.

12. patience. patience. patience. i love this word. it's beautiful. anyway, patience, is of course, imperative. i don't think any parent has to raise their voice. at least not on a regular basis. unless they are sticking their fingers in a socket or any other immediately dangerous situation when loud yelling will shock the child and force them to remember the lesson quickly (it's all pavlovian. ring a bell = salivate)... all animals are afraid of loud noises. so this works in dire straits. but other than that, you don't want your child to be afraid of you. plus, you'll be teaching them to yell. and you don't want a yelly kid. and don't whine to your children either. they will pick that up as well. stern voices. eye level. explanation. explanation. explanation. i did this big research project in child development about theory of mind (which is basically learning that other people have thoughts and feelings and being able to decipher those thoughts and feelings... so like an autistic child has major problems in this regard so you can see what having a fully developed TOM will do for a child). anyway, what i figured though i would have to experiment to know for sure, so take this with a grain of salt, is that the tasks which improved TOM abilities - and there are a bunch which seem totally unrelated - actually, all seem to require explanations. explicitly, in the form of because, or implicitly, which i believe a child will take in anyway. and all the ones that didn't cause improvement did not have explanations. i think i am right about it. i did tons of research and really got into that study. anyway, basically, it's like don't tell your kids 'don't do this' or 'do this'. always: 'don't do this because...' and so on. if there isn't a reason for you telling the kid to do something or not do something, then maybe you shouldn't be telling the kid to do it or not, because it may just be some petty thing that you are saying out of frustration. or if sometimes, the explanations aren't child appropriate, just make up something child appropriate. knowing there are explanations for everything will teach the child to search for explanations when something happens. which includes everything another person does. why did they do that? because they are sad... and so on. it will generalize to everthing. of course, this brings us to the dreaded why? stage. patience, my friends. patience. i think the worst why stages come from kids who aren't getting enough attention, and they aren't even listening to the answers. they just want you to talk to them. so if you get your kid to a healthy and creative and explorative why stage, then you have done good things.

13. just let it go. let life happen. and love your child. that's all anyone can ask. you can't control anything. you never could but at times it seems like you might be. and once you have children, the urge to control everything probably heightens. but the ability to control, i would think, dimishes. so be free

** disclaimer: i know nothing about kids. you have been warned. don't blame me if you take my advice and it blows up in your face. this is only my opinion. **

and i said i wasn't in a writing mood.

Butterfly Wings

there are many things i enjoy in life.

of course, there are many things i don't enjoy.

but overall, my enjoyment of those things that i enjoy far outweighs those things that i don't enjoy. i'm pretty adaptable. i guess i am more of a chameleon than i ever thought. useless anxiety over a nonexistant inability to adjust. i wonder where i ever came up with that notion. and why it still sticks with me despite mounds and mounds of evidence to the contrary.

i cannot lie. i have problems.

but i wouldn't give them up for the life of me.

i wouldn't give them up for the life of mr.

i wouldn't change my life for nothing. . and that's saying a lot.

i would not be me. if i were to change anything. and where would i be without me? hell, where would you be without me?

along with sliced bread, and motor vehicles and all your loved ones, you are taking me for granted. it's in our nature. we would be overwhelmed if we didn't take things for granted all the time. and i know. i am overwhelming. you have no idea. you are taking me for granted. the butterfly is little, but one little flip of its wings will change the world. i will change the world, and you will take it for granted. don't worry. i am taking you for granted all the time. and i will take it for granted that i have changed the world. and i will continue to take the world for granted. and i will continue to take myself for granted. and you will continue to take me for granted.

The Return of Kris

to my surprise, i logged into myspace yesterday. only to find an unexpected message from you-know-who.

uh-oh he's found me again.

i prepared myself for further attack.

i know you were all eagerly waiting for some more drama in the form of my accused blogstalker. my most humble apologies in this regard for their is no new drama. but, something better. at least, from my perspective: most humble apologies.

I certainly don’t think those things about you… I don’t even know you!

that's my favourite line: i don't even know you.

anyway, to further protect kris' reputation, and his personal vibe from negativity - though many may think he does not deserve it and i am going above and beyond my responsibility to great vibe with the earth - but i am gracious. and i take great pride in this, thank you for noticing. so, as i was saying (before i was so rudely interrupted. by my self.), kris was not blogstalking me. he heard about my blog from a mutual friend and was interested to see what i was up to. i just happened to get caught up in an ugly time in his life and he did not mean those things... though it must have been a really ugly time if he couldn't get it out of his system with not one comment, but two. and why he had to take it out on me, when i had nothing to do with it? but these are all questions for the cosmos, and personally, the apology is more than good enough for me.

i don't even know you.

this is always true, my friends. always. no matter how much you know someone and no matter what you knew about someone before. you never really know someone. you never know what they are acting on, whether or not it has anything to do with you, or where they have come from to get to where they are.

i don't even know you.

you are in no position to pass judgment. and unfortunately you are too close to yourself to have a clear idea of why you do the things you do - take a social psychology class and you will find out just how much you don't know about why you do things - so you are in no position to pass judgment on yourself.

i don't even know you.

and this is what allows you to be gracious.

be gracious to others.
be gracious to yourself.

thank you, kris, for the gracious apology.

Perfect and Waiting

i haven't been back here in a while. what is this bears great vibe with the earth stuff? i can't really remember what it is all about. i should go back and read it... where do i come up with this stuff? what does it mean? and is it all just nonsense?

it's highly possibly of course. but i doubt it very much. nothing anyone says is ever nonsense if you are paying attention to the right parts. but our spheres may not be touching. so you may have no choice but to misunderstand. and misunderstandings lead to judgment. and judgment leads to intolerance and feelings of righteousness and superiority. and these things all lead to one thing.

trouble.

but that's your trouble not mine.

just try and make sure your sphere is as big as humanly possibly... and then a little more so. cause we aren't able to step outside our spheres in this form. in this place. at this time.

my reaction to music tells me that i am not quite there. but the fact that i am reacting tells me i am on my way. or at least open to being on my way. or at least looking and listening for the way. i wish it all made more sense. but then again, where is the fun in that?

i finished the most recent harry potter book today. so now i am finally up to speed on the harry potter bandwagon. though i didn't even jump on until the phad died down. i read all the books in under two weeks. and that is making time for work and eating and other sorts of interruptions. that is something like three thousand pages.

it's official. i am a professional.

did you skim?

not a chance, baby. took in every detail. loved every minute. who skims anyway unless they are reading some useless textbook for a class they don't like? you miss everything when you skim. how can you really live a story if you don't grasp the details? so where does one go to get paid for being a professional reader? please leave your suggestions in the comments section.

so, does anyone remember my dreamworld? the magical artists' forest? well, it was purely fantasia on my part and i was resigned to the fact that no such place exists or that at the very least, i would never find it or make it happen.

don't tell anyone, but the place actually exists.

i'm serious. my cousin lives there. i mean. i knew he lived there. and i knew it was a magical forest. i knew a lot of things... but i didn't realize what all those things meant. and i hadn't asked enough questions. but he lives there. in the magical artists' forest. and he lives in two houses. well, he lives in only one. he has been saving the other for me and continues to extend invitation after invitation. i've been planning to get there at some point. but responsibilties hold me back here for the time being. but i hadn't realized it was the magical artists' forest and now i just want to throw caution to the wind and disapparate.

isn't it so obviously perfect? and waiting for me? and perfect? and waiting for me?

i bet when i got there, the music would be telling me that i had made it. i bet when i got there, i would see things how i'd never seen them before. i bet when i got there, everything would fall into place. i bet when i got there, i'd know things i'd never known before. i bet when i got there, i'd know.