In Monochrome

I’ve been tasked, in many ways, to be more than who I am—to give and explore more than my creative side has been prompted to going forward. It’s odd, in that I’m normally an expressive, journal-scribing, idea-sojurner who can sit on wayside and finalize 18 different ideas or courses of action that lead toward something wonderful. But to be told, “I would like more from you” is sort of yelling at the stars to twinkle brighter; to order the tides to crash louder; for the night to din quietier.

I am within myself on things, and outside on others. I don’t dance like I should.

Carmela is a psychiatrist for adolescents entering new school settings( she helps them absorb their new surroundings, become amalgamated with their classes and schedule, etc.) She also works with parents on developing ways to help their children navigate any rough waters that might come up. She’s my friend, and we talk about everything, but lately we have hit a snag. I think I might view my insecurities or assert myself at removing them at a slower pace than others. Carmela has all the answers, but she can’t help me(even though she knows about them more than almost anyone). It’s unethical for her to counsel her friends.

I’m unethical.

I have a name.

So it’s Friday the 13th, eh? Funny, I don’t feel any more weirder than usual.

Superstitions….cute stuff.

I think I might teach a class or two on Webpage Design and Social Media  this Summer to the Senior Citizens in town.

I’ll write up and proof a brief synopsis over the weekend( borrowing heavily from courses I’ve taken as an Undergrad), and take it from there.

Students can be so chipper in the morning!

emples:

I will no longer be updating this blog.  It was a fun year.  Cheers!

Where will you go? I’m following you under my company’s Twitter name( CSR_Trend_Watch)

Terr

I went to the Mall for no reason the other day( which in part explains why I  fell asleep part way through the Duke/North Carolina game last night) to look for a new pair of boots. I wear boots. I wear a particular brand of boot—not just any run-of-the-mill boot will do. I don’t work as a Contractor, nor am I employed in some sort of blue collar fashion. I program and edit. I wear Timberland Boots for style. I like my tour-de-force of style. Over the pass few weeks we’ve been beaten to our knees by snow, sleet, ice and rain( think the worst Mother Nature can throw at any one region times 5). I’ve been wearing this brand of boot for maybe 13 years. I don’t wear my boots with my suits, khakis, slacks, or shorts( unless I’m somewhere balmy, and expect NOT to get into the water). The Mall near where I live is modestly large, but doesn’t hold a lot of clothing or styles of my liking.

But, back to boots.

I searched three places: One of them had the boots for over 150.00, the second one didn’t have the boots at all for the store had been closed for months now(shows you how often I shop here), and the third one had the boots for 109.00 straight. After arriving home I sat down glanced at my purchase, played So-Com for three hours, and then fell asleep mid-way through the most hyped collegiate basketball game this season.

My wrists hurt.

I’m shocked. I just lost a tumblr follower this morning. I mean, they could have prefaced to me why they decided to stop following my posts. I’m open to a discussion on the topic. Were my personal thoughts too boring? Were they too rife with controversy? I can make them better—just for you, my fairweather tumblr.

I ingratiate poorly.

I think I’m not going to bother anymore with trying to re-connect. This is the best thing for the both of us.

sigh@ PBS is presenting another “adaptation” of Sense and Sensibility.

Enough is enough already!

Aren’t there any other masterpieces out there to recreate?

All Professional Athletes who make in excess of 5 million dollars a year or 40 million over a length of time should have the owners of their prospective teams( NHL,NBA,NFL,MLB,FIFA, etc) take 1 million to 2 million dollars from their salaries and donate that money toward a local or state wide fund to assist with the preservation of education, land, art, energy; help build food pantries, community programs, and local farms.

I rather see money spent this way, on a larger scale, for a greater good, than on another luxury automobileor home theater for a 30 min segment on CRIBS.

When I was child, from elementary all the way through to high school, there came a time in the month of February that held considerable reverence for me: Black History Month. No matter what I was watching or doing, or toiling under pen and paper in school, I was reminded( via commercial or announcement) that February was(is!) Black History Month.

As an adult I see more commericals for empty-minded reality tv shows or class-vapid movies on greed, wealth or sex these days, than anything.

Black History Month. I’m able to write this today because of the actions of many(white,black,green,yellow, and red) before me.

Army Strong = Racially Divided

I need to take pictures of myself, so I can remind my oldself year’s from now, that at this moment back in 2009 I was.

“Would you rather be all definitively handsome or cute?”

“I would say,” I start carefully, my eyes passing judgment over the shine on my shoes. ” I would rather be “or”—there’s no safer place to be.”

I once thought as a child that if you plucked a Daffodil that it would bloom forever; that it’s fuzzy oldman bud would fan forever in the wind and twinkle at you at night. I’ve since learnt two lessons: You can’t make or take something aspiring and regarded, for people decide, not things.  And two,I would rather have something beautiful, fuzzy, and twinkling to share with everyone, than hoard it all for myself.

I think life is like a flipbook: sometimes the pages flow seamlessly together, and often times you get that hiccup along the path that turns a course or path into an eyebrow scrunching ponderance.

I’m a hiccup.

*Hiccup*

My typos and grammatical errors remind me that I have a long way to go before I can call myself literarily perfect( but then again, why even strive for that, I accept my shortcomings).

I once watched a squirrel do a backflip off a sheet of ice, landing on all fours, without ever once dropping the contents stored in it’s cheeks.

I think if you have to cry you should do it. It’s the only way your heart can inform your brain that somethings’ the matter. It’s the only way your brain can understand why the heart is so heavy.

I thing tea-lamps are awkward. They serve only one purpose, and it’s usually the one not involved with fragance.