Things started to look up last night as cleaning products were introduced to the Queen and what was thought to be used to clean the filth she consistently produces. Nein.
Purely selfish reasons. She believes in false hope only to shatter, crunch, and stomp all over them. The bathroom was flooded once more by her lack of understanding of the invention of the towel. Never has cloth and paper products been more of a necessity in my life until now.
But quick! Stop thinking about having to put on your rain boots to take on the swamp to use the bathroom...the cake is burning. Her cake. The Queen's cake. Time is not a concept anymore and if it's not death by candle it will most certainly be death by food. BURNING FOOD THAT IS CHOCOLATE CAKE NOT BROWNIES. Silly little queen.
The next day...
I ever so carefully but swiftly clamored down the 2 inch wide "ladder" of my bunk bed as my senses stirred panicked at the sounds of dishes clinging, pots clashing. The Queen is home and Cinderella has been asleep.
The door is torn open, quickly holding on by the hinges as not to be ripped off the frame so unexpectedly. And there it was....not just a plate of brownies..but a plate of chocolate cake that the Queen mistook as convertible brownies. Her cake on my plate. My property defiled by her forgetfulness.
She can have her cake and eat it too just not on my plate.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Survival Journal, Volume two
It has been two weeks. Escape was found on 40th street for approximately 5 days, leaving pilgrims behind in savaged quarters.
I returned to worsened living conditions. Its dark and I am forced to live by candles. Hair has crawled out of the drain and now sits perched on the tiles of the shower. Dirty socks stake camp at the base of the toilet. A white towel serves as a rug, taking fingerprints of the dirt that collects.
The Queen of Siberia has draped our furniture in wax. Green wax. Now it is hard to recognize the brown of the desert from the seemingly green of the jungle.
The flicker of flame reminds us that fire is only a candlestick away but we can already feel the warmth of its destruction. When her eyes shut, our soul finds peace but now even the absence of her iris’ cause risk. Our sanity is at stake.
I returned to worsened living conditions. Its dark and I am forced to live by candles. Hair has crawled out of the drain and now sits perched on the tiles of the shower. Dirty socks stake camp at the base of the toilet. A white towel serves as a rug, taking fingerprints of the dirt that collects.
The Queen of Siberia has draped our furniture in wax. Green wax. Now it is hard to recognize the brown of the desert from the seemingly green of the jungle.
The flicker of flame reminds us that fire is only a candlestick away but we can already feel the warmth of its destruction. When her eyes shut, our soul finds peace but now even the absence of her iris’ cause risk. Our sanity is at stake.
Survival Journal, Volume one
February 25, 2009
11:23pm
It's been two weeks, living conditions are rough. Mice with bones so little they can fit in the tiniest crack beneath our bedroom door. On the other side of that bedroom door live bed bugs. The scariest vermin known to sleepers...everywhere. Bites along my leg, I don't know when or how...just who.
It's so hot these days, grains of sand seeping up through the carpet while the dial on the heater is broken...it won't turn off high. The queen is the happiest she has been, since the big move to what is now...Saudia Arabia.
While there is a drought in the living room and sleeping quarters, the bathroom remains flooded at least three times a day. Toilet paper is constantly running low, forcing us to use paper towels that clog the new york sewer system. Water is going to have to be rationed soon..as well as toilet paper. Too many showers, yet I havent showered in weeks.
We ran out of mozzarella today. Asparagus in its rawest form. Thankfully, we have enough half-eaten apples to last us a while.
Space is low, books now take up residence in our bath tub, as well as using the Oxford Annotated Bible as both toilet paper and for cockroach squashing. Black seeps from its edges as it kills one more of the creepy crawlers that is the cockroach colony.
Mold is growing back. We thought we conquered it months ago. The paint is cracking and it is back with vengeance. Time spent in a closed shoebox bathroom is also being rationed due to toxic chemicals growing on the ceiling above us.
A week ago we ran out of room for the little food we have. Boxes of pasta and loaves of bread fall from the shelf...not that we could have eaten it anyways because the heat destroys all that is edible.
Victory though will prevail. It has to.
11:23pm
It's been two weeks, living conditions are rough. Mice with bones so little they can fit in the tiniest crack beneath our bedroom door. On the other side of that bedroom door live bed bugs. The scariest vermin known to sleepers...everywhere. Bites along my leg, I don't know when or how...just who.
It's so hot these days, grains of sand seeping up through the carpet while the dial on the heater is broken...it won't turn off high. The queen is the happiest she has been, since the big move to what is now...Saudia Arabia.
While there is a drought in the living room and sleeping quarters, the bathroom remains flooded at least three times a day. Toilet paper is constantly running low, forcing us to use paper towels that clog the new york sewer system. Water is going to have to be rationed soon..as well as toilet paper. Too many showers, yet I havent showered in weeks.
We ran out of mozzarella today. Asparagus in its rawest form. Thankfully, we have enough half-eaten apples to last us a while.
Space is low, books now take up residence in our bath tub, as well as using the Oxford Annotated Bible as both toilet paper and for cockroach squashing. Black seeps from its edges as it kills one more of the creepy crawlers that is the cockroach colony.
Mold is growing back. We thought we conquered it months ago. The paint is cracking and it is back with vengeance. Time spent in a closed shoebox bathroom is also being rationed due to toxic chemicals growing on the ceiling above us.
A week ago we ran out of room for the little food we have. Boxes of pasta and loaves of bread fall from the shelf...not that we could have eaten it anyways because the heat destroys all that is edible.
Victory though will prevail. It has to.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Bailout
It's early. Here is something to get the juices flowing.
The porn industry has asked for a bailout. I'm going to ask for a bailout at this rate. Apparently, people are depressed and not having sex and therefore the porn industry is to the rescue but...is broke. Obviously, if you are broke...no one is spending money on what you have to offer. Or you are producing much more than is being appreciated. If no one is buying what you are making...no one wants it or they are sick of seeing Paris Hilton. Find a new career, porn is out.
If you are really depressed, so depressed you don't feel like having sex and you seek to fix that problem by watching porn rather than...doing it with an actual person then that is what is really depressing. Don't go virtual, that's weird...not to mention insulting on several levels.
If America bails out the porn industry, I am next in line. Not to mention we are all going to hell if it does happen.
A.
The porn industry has asked for a bailout. I'm going to ask for a bailout at this rate. Apparently, people are depressed and not having sex and therefore the porn industry is to the rescue but...is broke. Obviously, if you are broke...no one is spending money on what you have to offer. Or you are producing much more than is being appreciated. If no one is buying what you are making...no one wants it or they are sick of seeing Paris Hilton. Find a new career, porn is out.
If you are really depressed, so depressed you don't feel like having sex and you seek to fix that problem by watching porn rather than...doing it with an actual person then that is what is really depressing. Don't go virtual, that's weird...not to mention insulting on several levels.
If America bails out the porn industry, I am next in line. Not to mention we are all going to hell if it does happen.
A.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Affairs
Affairs.
I just got done reading a novel about affairs that go on within a small French town. The hard-core female in me enjoyed every minute of it. Reading about the fire in their blood as they kissed in the white hallway while her husband lay dying in the bedroom. There is something romantic about fiery passion, isn’t there?
I asked myself after finishing it why so many of us enjoy scandals and affairs compared to the happily ever after of a loyal marriage. Could this be what is contributing to the demise how we view the institution of marriage? We’ve glamorized affairs. We are the united states of broken homes and broken hearts.
I was playing Apples to Apples with friends the other night. Marriage cards were played with irony to “loyal” and so on. Apparently the idea of marriage or marriage vows representing what they are supposed to be is comical. I don’t blame them. I can list a number of friends who have had their home wrecked by dad sleeping with the foxy lady in the office.
So it is scary when I see my peers getting married so young. Are they falling in the deep pit that is failed marriages?
When people are constantly changing, how do you evolve your trust with that change?
C.S. Lewis puts it quite beautifully. How many affairs have revolved around the word “happiness”. How someone deserves to be happy, has the right to be happy, wants to be happy. Ignore the fact that your happiness might be someone else’s sorrow. C.S. Lewis points out no where do we have the RIGHT to be happy. We simply have the right to pursue it. Unfortunately, we all have different means to an end. The love that ends in an affair is selfish and therefore was never love to begin with.
Or how about when someone apologizes for their disloyalty? Sydney and I were talking and how can you be sorry for something you are doing? “I’m sorry for cheating on you (but I’m going to stay with her and not you).” When you are sorry, you are attempting to correct something. Anything less is an insult.
Don’t get me started on “being in love”. You fall in love, yes, but that does not mean you stay there. My father is a wise man. I trust his word because my parents marriage has defied the divorce statistics. They are happily married…have been for over 20 years. He says you can fall into anything but you have to work to stay there. It is not easy. Love is not easy, so why would falling in love and staying there be any easier? It is not the falling that is hard, it’s the being. You can fall in love, but can you be in love? Can you love in a constant present tense?
If I could see anything in 2009 change it would be relationships. I want to see marriages work. I want to see people working harder, not giving up. I want to see lasting love, the kind that grows old, not the kind that goes for younger girls. I want to see families growing stronger not torn apart. I want to know that the fiery passion in the hallway is between a husband and wife while the kids are asleep. That a woman’s husband is late coming home not because he was making out in the back of the car with his secretary but because he was getting flowers for his wife.
I just got done reading a novel about affairs that go on within a small French town. The hard-core female in me enjoyed every minute of it. Reading about the fire in their blood as they kissed in the white hallway while her husband lay dying in the bedroom. There is something romantic about fiery passion, isn’t there?
I asked myself after finishing it why so many of us enjoy scandals and affairs compared to the happily ever after of a loyal marriage. Could this be what is contributing to the demise how we view the institution of marriage? We’ve glamorized affairs. We are the united states of broken homes and broken hearts.
I was playing Apples to Apples with friends the other night. Marriage cards were played with irony to “loyal” and so on. Apparently the idea of marriage or marriage vows representing what they are supposed to be is comical. I don’t blame them. I can list a number of friends who have had their home wrecked by dad sleeping with the foxy lady in the office.
So it is scary when I see my peers getting married so young. Are they falling in the deep pit that is failed marriages?
When people are constantly changing, how do you evolve your trust with that change?
C.S. Lewis puts it quite beautifully. How many affairs have revolved around the word “happiness”. How someone deserves to be happy, has the right to be happy, wants to be happy. Ignore the fact that your happiness might be someone else’s sorrow. C.S. Lewis points out no where do we have the RIGHT to be happy. We simply have the right to pursue it. Unfortunately, we all have different means to an end. The love that ends in an affair is selfish and therefore was never love to begin with.
Or how about when someone apologizes for their disloyalty? Sydney and I were talking and how can you be sorry for something you are doing? “I’m sorry for cheating on you (but I’m going to stay with her and not you).” When you are sorry, you are attempting to correct something. Anything less is an insult.
Don’t get me started on “being in love”. You fall in love, yes, but that does not mean you stay there. My father is a wise man. I trust his word because my parents marriage has defied the divorce statistics. They are happily married…have been for over 20 years. He says you can fall into anything but you have to work to stay there. It is not easy. Love is not easy, so why would falling in love and staying there be any easier? It is not the falling that is hard, it’s the being. You can fall in love, but can you be in love? Can you love in a constant present tense?
If I could see anything in 2009 change it would be relationships. I want to see marriages work. I want to see people working harder, not giving up. I want to see lasting love, the kind that grows old, not the kind that goes for younger girls. I want to see families growing stronger not torn apart. I want to know that the fiery passion in the hallway is between a husband and wife while the kids are asleep. That a woman’s husband is late coming home not because he was making out in the back of the car with his secretary but because he was getting flowers for his wife.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Notes from being back home
Notes from being back home:
1) There is such thing as too much Ed Hardy. Seriously, settle down Scottsdale.
2) We may live in the West, but it is no longer Wild. Dress accordingly.
3) How many friendships end with "don't tell anyone"? When I walked by two girls sitting at a table and heard one say to the other, "don't tell anyone, okay?" I knew by the tone of her voice what she said was monumental and that the friend receiving the news was not going to be able to contain this secret. Oh, girls...
4) Benjamin Button was right. Home doesn't change, you do.
5) Dogs sleep a lot.
6) Why does Krispy Kreme put original glazed donuts in the case when everyone asks for a warm one?
1) There is such thing as too much Ed Hardy. Seriously, settle down Scottsdale.
2) We may live in the West, but it is no longer Wild. Dress accordingly.
3) How many friendships end with "don't tell anyone"? When I walked by two girls sitting at a table and heard one say to the other, "don't tell anyone, okay?" I knew by the tone of her voice what she said was monumental and that the friend receiving the news was not going to be able to contain this secret. Oh, girls...
4) Benjamin Button was right. Home doesn't change, you do.
5) Dogs sleep a lot.
6) Why does Krispy Kreme put original glazed donuts in the case when everyone asks for a warm one?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)