The Clock is Ticking

Here we go...yet another turn around the news world.

Pope says he's starting to learn his job
Well, thank goodness! It's only been 15 months. I do have to question his circular logic there on the subject of holidays. I'm sorry, it's not a holiday if you do work.

Woman in doghouse over Jehovah's Witness sign
Excuse me? 'Gentle joke?' My ass. Granted, I think it's pretty damn ridiculous of Witnesses to make housecalls on Christmas Day, but there's nothing gentle about that sign.

Human hand, skulls found at stripper's home
Hm...methinks there's a lesson here.

Inmate includes own name in bomb, anthrax threats
You know, I've always heard that the prisons are full of geniuses. Okay, so it's "full -1."

Mistrial declared in cell phone case.
Note to self: Just let The Man see the phone. I've nothing to hide anyway.

Rice shares ASEAN stage with furry green frogs
Oh, this is weird. I'm so glad Condoleeza went with something a bit more serious.

Malaysia draws up list of unsuitable names for children
Okay, this might, might just be taking political correctness a tad too far. Obviously, I won't be raising my family there--oh, btw, meet my daughter, Yellow Carrot.

ER closed, Hazmat called after birds fall from sky
eeeewww.

Pet wedding veiled in irony

This is not funny. It's sad, it's pathetic. It's just ridiculous. These people are obviously in need of some psychotherapy.

I mean, they actually list one of the reasons they did this as "being 30-something and alone." That's just sad.

Stories like this one give me hope in our society.

School district creates refuge for homeless students

We need to be doing more to help those kids that are flying under the radar.

Pardon the cross post here...I don't usually do this, but I can't help it.

Okay, I got reminded to do something this week. I've been in Tulsa most of the week for a church conference. At one point, I ended up with free time in the (fabulous) youth area. They had one of those semi-portable basketball hoops set up in one corner and two teenagers were shooting baskets. Both boys appeared to have Downs Syndrome. Both were having the best time, coaching and cheering each other with every shot.

I was watching them, getting a lot of joy from just watching them have fun. Soon, they were casting shy glances at me. After several minutes, they invited me to join them. Now, I suck at shooting baskets. I told them I wasn't very good at all, that I'd probably be in the way. They told me it was okay, they'd help me.

I was instantly humbled. And as we played there in the youth room, so many different things happened. My tension that had hit me rather suddenly at the start of the week melted away. As I said, I was humbled being coached on the best way to shoot the ball. And we laughed and had such a good time. It was awesome.

And then, when we sat down for a break, before going back to our respective posts for the conference, I wrote for them.

Unabashed smiles, eyes
watching the ball -- swissssshhhh--REBOUND!
Reminds me to play.

I didn't manage to get their names. It wasn't important, you know? But they did so much for me.

Okay, I got reminded to do something this week. I've been in Tulsa most of the week for a church conference. At one point, I ended up with free time in the (fabulous) youth area. They had one of those semi-portable basketball hoops set up in one corner and two teenagers were shooting baskets. Both boys appeared to have Downs Syndrome. Both were having the best time, coaching and cheering each other with every shot.

I was watching them, getting a lot of joy from just watching them have fun. Soon, they were casting shy glances at me. After several minutes, they invited me to join them. Now, I suck at shooting baskets. I told them I wasn't very good at all, that I'd probably be in the way. They told me it was okay, they'd help me.

I was instantly humbled. And as we played there in the youth room, so many different things happened. My tension that had hit me rather suddenly at the start of the week melted away. As I said, I was humbled being coached on the best way to shoot the ball. And we laughed and had such a good time. It was awesome.

And then, when we sat down for a break, before going back to our respective posts for the conference, I wrote for them.

Unabashed smiles, eyes
watching the ball -- swissssshhhh--REBOUND!
Reminds me to play.

I didn't manage to get their names. It wasn't important, you know? But they did so much for me.

The Sunday Scribblings prompt this week is "Thief," which can go just about anywhere.

I've been thinking a lot about stealing things the last few days, even before seeing this prompt. The last few weeks have been crazy, I can describe several things that have happened and thoughts I've had as stealing.

Wow, that last sentence is awful. Maybe I'll go back to it. Probably not.

Anyway, I need to give a run-down. I'm big into listing things right now, and have made dozens of lists for everything. I migh as well continue it here.

1. I work through the summer. I teach summer school, professional development classes, and do a bunch for my church job. I realized that this summer I've packed too much in. I've stolen my own time away. Away from deadlines, working. Time to relax. I figured it out, the first week of summer was the only full week I was not required to do anything or be anywhere.
2. I've met a guy--I've commented on him in other posts. He's 'The Man.' He's amazing. I really don't have other words to describe him. It's been a long time since my attention has been drawn to a guy like this--and I don't mean just paying attention to him, I mean my thoughts are drawn to him. I think he's definitely starting to steal my heart...he's already managed to steal my mind.
3. Earlier this week, my peace was stolen. I don't want to go into details for several reasons. Stealing my peace...I just don't know how to wrap my head around it. It happened so suddenly, so violently that it took me a couple days to sort it out for myself. But you know who's managing to help restore it? The Man, whether he knows that's what he's doing or not.

Hm..maybe that's all, then. I guess it just feels like so much more.

I realize it doesn't really fit the prompt. Oh well, I don't tend to follow the rules well anyway.

I've been so overwhelmed in Tulsa this week, that I haven't paid much attention to the news. So, now that I'm home, I'm running through MSN and CNN and all that.

Here's a great one...
2 girls found starving; have well-fed siblings
I hate stories like this. My heart goes out to those little girls. Obviously, the step-mother is a heartless bitch. How could you starve children? I don't care if they're yours or not..how could you do it? And shame on the father. You can't tell me he didn't know this was going on. Even if the girls were always slight of build, you have to notice when your own children are dying.

Court rules teen must have cancer treatment
I'm not sure how I feel about this one. On the one hand, I think it's a very personal decision to decide how to treat (or not treat) your cancer. On the other, I can't identify with a 16 year old who wouldn't be willing to try EVERYTHING to live, and parents who wouldn't insist upon it. Then on the other hand (yes, I know, we're up to 3 now), I have a real problem with a judge or social worker demanding treatment, even if I do have an understanding of current child neglect and protection laws. Of course, if the cancer was obviously terminal and treatments were to just to prolong life, not heal the boy, I could understand opting to not treat. I just don't get not wanting to live. I just know. Thoughts?

Family vows to battle Anna Nicole Smith
And I care, why?

Schwarzenegger gives $150M stem cell loan
Good. You know, I kinda worried about having muscle-brained actor as governor somewhere. (Especially when people started talking about amending the Constitutional requirements for presidency. That might be a bit much, kids.) But, I have to commend Arnold. Stem cell research is SO important.

Gays accused of discrimination in resort town
Hm..there's a twist. Is this hetero-bashing?

Okay, I've been thinking about posting this for a couple of weeks. I haven't gotten around to it, because it's a bit embarassing. And I'm a little afraid that I'll be judged.

But I have to get it off my chest.

The WonderDog is into bondage.

There, I said it. Should I explain?

I bought The WonderDog (Wonder, for short) one of those harness things PetCo sells. Wonder has this crazy idea that taking a walk includes pulling at the leash at full force. I'm afraid at some point he's going to wind up hurting his neck, or bruising a vocal cord or something. (Hm..let me rethink the vocal cord thing. He'd be quieter then, right?) So, we went shopping and found a bright blue harness for him to wear.

When we crawled back in the car, I put it on him--no reason to wait to, you know? INSTANTLY, he calmed down. Just settled right down, and sat in his own seat instead of my lap. Hm. Okay. Whatever.

Now he won't let me take it off of him. He does this pissed puppy growl thing when I even touch it. Think "gnashing of teeth." But if you leave it alone, he's damn near an angel. Okay, so the halo is crooked, but geez, he's still young.

On the rare occasions I do get it off of him, he is fine. Back to normal Wonder mode (read: unruly and ornery.) Just don't let him see it somewhere. He goes bonkers trying to get it. Extremely crazy--crying, clawing, climbing. Ugh. Once it's on him--back to the angel.

I can't take it. My dog's stranger than I am.

is Tulsa.

I'd swear it. I mean, heat indexes of 110 and higher? That's gotta be a level of Hell. Just gotta be.
I know this, because I'm in Tulsa right now. It's nearly midnight and the temperature is a cool 90 degrees out. 90!! There's something wrong with a place that hot at midnight. Ugh.

Have you played with Yahoo!Answers yet? You've GOT TO go do this. I've had so much fun. It's my new way to procrastinate instead of writing. It's way addicting.

I've spent entirely too many hours having to sit still and listen today. I'm so wired.

(Wait, looking up the screen, did I say something was 'way addicting.' Geez.)

Anyway, wired, really wired. The Man (read "the man in my life") even noticed it on the phone earlier. I just couldn't say enough. It was crazy.

Whew..just hit a wall. Ugh.

But you know what...I'm really happy right now. Might be The Man's fault.

It's a bit ironic that this week's prompt at Poetry Thursday is sex.. The Man (read "the man in my life"), and I had a playful conversation last week that produced this gem of a line (hope he doesn't mind me sharing!):

I think your naughty little devil and my innocent little angel need to have a meeting of the minds.

A few days, some twisting and turning...and then the prompt showing up, brought me from there to here.

“Girl, what you doin’?”
Damn the angel.
Ignore her, close my mind.
Wander.
Need your breath on my neck.

“Girl, you’re delicious,”
The devil speaks.
Touch you, lose myself.
Revel.
Steal the warmth from your touch.

“Please, don’t stop.”
Quiet words for
a devil from his angel.
Hunger.
Taste your kiss, and give in.

I've never written any poetry that even hints at sex. I don't really know why, possibly lack of inspiration.

Teehee..The Man should take that statement as a compliment.

I commented last week that not everything we write has to be visceral. I think sometimes I have to be reminded that visceral doesn't have to mean 'gut wrenching.' It can simply refer to the butterflies that swarm with a touch. Ooh, there's an image--butterflies swarming. Hm...


Check out Poetry Thursday for other poetry contributions.

Jason over at A life in the day found my email address and "contacted me direct." I'm not concerned, I actually think it's kinda cool that someone took the time to do it.

He asked how I'd found his blog--apparently I'm the first stranger to blogroll him. Honestly, I can't remember how I wound up on it. I tend to go shopping on other blogs. Sometimes I look for different things to write about or put on my blog. Other times, I just check out what others have linked to--blogs, websites, whatever. Fifteen or 20 clicks later, I can't figure out where I started, but I've found some real gem that's worth being added to my list. And so, I ran across Jason's blog. I've been perusing it, back stuff and everything, for about a month. It's pretty good. I think he and I have a similar writing style, which is probably why I'm attracted to the blog.

Oh, hey..dig a bit deeper into his profile, and you find his site SecondSalon. He's got some amazing photographs on there. Enjoy.

Spent the day with the fam. We took a cruise on the duck pond.

This is what time I woke up. I never, ever sleep late. xoxo

Mother was telling us last night that she read or heard somewhere that psychologists/researchers have found a direct correlation between how a child behaves at 3 years old and his or her teenage years.

My father replied with "If we'd known that when you were three, we would have adopted you out."

Ouch. Not really--I know wasn't easy. But I probably should've pointed out that it wasn't my teenage years that were the problem, it was my early 20s. AND I'M JUST FINE NOW.

Anyway, before I get to sounding bitter *wink* I thought I'd just pass the info on to all of you. You have two choices--count your blessings, or run like hell.

So this week, we're supposed to find humor (according to the--totally optional--prompt at Poetry Thursday).

I don't write humorous poetry. Well, not any for public consumption (Don't we all play with limericks now and again? Or is that just me? Don't answer that.). And, in thinking about this prompt, I struggled. I can't think of any particularly humorous poetry--that was meant to be funny--I've read in years. There's my lame excuse for finally getting around to posting this week.

So, I got to thinking about the poetry I used when I taught elementary school. When working with third graders, one doesn't use Poe or Dickinson to teach poetry. Instead, you find Shel Silverstein (see link below) or Jack Prelutsky and you let them giggle their little heads clean off. Then you can do silly things like sharing some Frost or Whitman--the lighter stuff, of course.

I remember being introduced to Shel Silverstein's poetry. It was second grade and we read "I'm Being Eaten by a Boa Constrictor." It chronicles being eaten alive by a massive snake, starting with the toes and ending with the nose. It's hilarious! And it's the only poem I've ever memorized for school that I can still recite perfectly--and that was, ugh, almost 23 years ago. I use it now to show new interpers in my speech classes how to own the poetry they are reading.

And it was that poem, 10 years later that I thought about when my high school creative writing teacher told us to quit writing about our imagined angst and have fun with what we were doing. She pointed out that yes, words should speak to you in ways other than just mere language, but not everything we write has to be so visceral. Some things can appeal to just your funny bone.

I think that's probably also when I made the connection between poetry and music. I'd always known that, in essence, lyrics are just poetry, but I'd never really connected that the effect words-put-to-music had on me could be found in words on paper. It opened up a whole new world for me and my writing.

Sure, I still don't write funny poetry. But I stopped being so caught up in my perceived distress (which I can tell you now was really non-existent) and just wrote.

I never would've thought a rhyme about a kid being eaten by a constrictor could have such an effect on my writing self. I mean, come 'on, it's aimed at kids, right????

See some neat things and hear some audio recordings of a few poems.
Shel Silverstein
I about flipped when I did a search for this site. In the site engine blurb, the main link says "Shel Silverstein - the Official Site for Kids - Choose Speed." I did a doubletake and quickly clicked on it--it wanted the viewer to choose high or low bandwidth. That was NOT my first thought!

And to see this week's other offerings, visit Poetry Thursday.

Hotels. They're a necessary evils. Obviously, I have to have somewhere to stay when I leave town, hence the necessary part.

Evil because they 'rub' at all kinds of things that bother me. Showers are goofy--too hot, too cold, and the shower curtains try to envelop you. Too few channels on the TV and a remote that rarely makes sense. An alarm clock it takes a 6 year old to set. Never enough towels, etc.

Ugh.

I do like to stay in nice ones. When I need a base to decompress in, it's nice to come back to a well-apportioned room and relax. Tough for me to do that in the local motel.

I spent all last week in a pretty good hotel. Nice pillows, microwave and minifridge in the room. Starbuck's coffee packs for the in-room coffee maker. (That rocked). Free internet access and everything. It was so nice.

Last night, I stayed at a hotel in Austin. Great location, really nice place...view of the driveway. Internet access was available in every room, for an additional $10. Parking was available, for an additional $10. $18 if you used valet parking. The room wasn't ready when I tried to check in (granted, I was 2 hours before check in time, but I'd called ahead for the early arrival opportunity.

But the bed was awesome. There was a little decorative pillow that said "Sweet Dreams," and they were. That's the best hotel bed I've ever slept in and I'm a bed connoisseur. It had just the right amount of support, great pillows, mmm..wonderful. I drifted right off. It was amazing.

So...that's my one requirement. I'll deal with anything else, but gimme a great bed.

Read some more offerings at Sunday Scribblings.

I don't honestly believe in horoscopes, although they are a bit eerily true sometimes. I just read 'em for fun. This was my "love horoscope" this morning.

Here is your single's love horoscopefor Thursday, July 6:

Who, you -- selfish? Maybe just a little bit at the moment -- but maybe it's not such a bad thing. One of the fabulous things about being single is you can put yourself first and treat yourself right.

Actually, this is precisely how I'm feeling this morning. The last few weeks really. I just feel like this summer--my break, mind you--I've done nothing just for me. I've been teaching summer school, went on a weeklong technology camp thing, came back for more summer school. Somewhere in there, I went to the zoo, once, and saw a couple of movies. Wow.

I suppose it is selfish to want things to revolve around me for a bit. But I also think it's a bit cold when the people around me, that know me best, can see that I need a litte of that, too but turn the focus to themselves instead.

I'm looking forward to having the two full weeks off work that I've got scheduled after summer school ends next week. Yes, I'll be flying off to a conference for church in beautiful Tulsa (not fair, I know..I've never actually seen Tulsa), but I did volunteer for that, and it really promises to be good for me. Other than that, if it's not about me, I'm not doing it. I need that.

Is that so wrong?

Things are not as they
teach us--the Earth is hollow;
I have touched the sky.

I wrote the above haiku after a very difficult few months in my life. My world was topsy-turvy, and I was discovering that my perfect little bubble had popped. Nothing I had done, intentionally or otherwise, had initiated the chain of events, but I was left feeling hollow.

I'd come to the realization that everything my parents had taught me was a little tainted by a pseudo-perfection. Well, maybe not everything, but quite a bit was now questionable. The haiku was not so much confessional, as putting my state of mind down on paper.

It took me 6 months to get those 17 syllables worked out. Took me almost that long to admit I was hurting.

For more (completely optional) prompts, visit Poetry Thursday.

This is my favorite bit of wisdom from Robert Fulghum in his book From Beginning to End. For those who don't recognize that, he's the one who wrote Everything I Need to Know I Learned In Kindergarten and It Was on Fire When I Laid Down on It. All three are good books. I just happen to really like the fodder this bit offers.

I have never like the phrase that says we're made of dust and return to dust. We are energy, which is interchangeable with light. We are fire and water and earth. We are air and atoms and quarks. Moreover, we are dreams, hopes and fears held together by wisdom and driven apart by folly. So much more than dust. The biblical verse should say, "Mystery thou art and to mystery returneth."

I can remember, rather vividly, when I was in high school being told that a friend and I were "two peas in a pod." I was offended. It was the first time that the phrase had ever incited anger in me. Now, please understand, I love this friend dearly. I admire her for some things she's done in her life. I don't particularly like some of the choices she made while we were growing up. Shortly before someone unknowingly offended me, she'd made a choice I neither agreed with nor supported (there is a difference between agreeing and supporting you know.). We were actually in an argument about the decision she'd made and so, taking offense was likely to be the response anyway. But I was incredibly upset that someone thought that we were truly cut of the same cloth, so to speak. I was nothing like her and didn't want to be thought of that way.

Ever since, I haven't liked that phrase--"two peas in a pod." It may have something to do with me not being enthusiastic about peas. Or the memories of hours spent shelling peas with my grandmother. Or maybe, just maybe, because those pods seem so cramped.

Actually, I think it's because I'd rather be an original. Being just like some other "pea in a pod" implies being just like someone else and that bothers me. I want to think I'm unique, and by golly I want everyone else to think so, too! I know, I know. Inherently, we are all unique. And, for that matter, all peas would be, too. But when was the last time you saw a bowl full of peas, identified one, and then later could indentify the exact same one. Come on, friends, it ain't possible. Unless you mark the pea, but that's cheating.

So, anyway, I don't want to be seen as a pea in a pod, either on my own or in comparison with someone else. Sometimes this desire gets my big mouth in trouble, other times, it endears me to someone worth loving.

To do a little scribbling of your own, and read those of others, click here.

Looking around the web this morning, I've found some stones--precious, semi-precious, and pebbles. Here's what I've seen so far:

• This could honestly be the worst picture I've seen of Brittany Spears. She looks like a fat cow. No, no..wait...THIS is the worst one I've seen. Really, people, what were we thinking?
• The link on the MSN site said "Hasselhoff Injures Arm While Shaving." First thought--WTH? Honey, you've been doing this awhile, haven't you learned yet to shave above the collar bone? Then you read the second paragraph. That's right, folks, only in the second one do they tell us what really happened.
• LOVE this blog: Writing on the Moon. Already on the BlogRoll.
• You know, the proper way and when to display the U.S. Flag was always taught in my elementary and middle schools. Why don't kids have any clue anymore? Is it not P.C. to teach it anymore?
• Finally, someone has reported on the changing face of NASCAR. I told you people it wasn't just for rednecks anymore.
• LOOK! Two reasons to visit Amsterdam.
• Most places just put a bunch of nails on flat surfaces to keep pigeons away.
• How would you NOT know THIS until you were awake?

Okay, on that note...I've got to put this away. That's just too much for me this early in the morning.