Thursday. A million turns in AZ to 8W and on to San Diego; well, technically Santee. I drove the whole way this day. We left about 7am and arrived at Nana and Grandpa's in Santee at 4pm.
Arizona. This was the one state I had been anticipating the most. I don't know that I was as taken by it as I thought I would be, but it did hold it's own beauty. I liked the mountainous region where every curve revealed a new beautiful mystery. I was less impressed by the Sonoran Desert. The phrase "barren land" comes to mind.
Getting close to the point of needing gas, I stopped at one place that called itself historical and in the middle of nowhere. Got off the highway, took one look at the place advertised: "GAS/FOOD, said "I don't think so," and reentered the 8. I'm adventourous, but the I draw the line at Twilight Zone possibilities. Twenty miles down the road was Dateland (known apparently for its abundance of dates) with a Texaco, giftshop and Quiznos all in one place. Yea, Dateland.
That was our only stop until Santee, though once in CA, we did ride through three border control stations.
And the gas. All across the country gas (regular unleaded) was between $3.69-$3.99. California alone -- $4.09-$4.20. Ah well.
And here I am.
Showing posts with label MySpace blog posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MySpace blog posts. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Day Three: VA -- CA - May 18 2011
Mom did all the driving Wednesday from Shamrock, TX to Holbrook, Arizona. I couldn't tell you how many hours she actually drove as we travelled from central through mountain into pacific time, but it was 7:30 am CST when we left Shamrock and about 3pm PST when we made it to Holbrook.
Because of all the rain, the country from Virginia on was so green until Texas. Texas looked like it could use the rain Mom drove in. Despite that, Texas was still so beautiful. I would have liked to linger there longer.
There were large, fluffy clouds over New Mexico and entering Arizona, we were greeted by two, formidable, pock-marked boulders; the next exit off 40W was Window Rock. Fitting.
Becuase of the lack of major or even semi-major cities marked on the AZ map, I decided it would be safest to stop in Holbrook for gas, food and lodging. No telling how far down the road we could make it before we found another place to lay our heads.
As I said earlier, we crossed two time zones this day: from central --> mountain (9:52 so nice, decided to live it twice), then mountain --> pacific. By the time we were settled in our room at the Holiday Inn Express, my body had no concept of the time. Flying is easier in this respect.
Driving the past three days my mind -- being my mind -- thought of several movies. Stand By Me everytime I saw a train, and driving through some of the flooded areas reminded me of the leeches -- hehe. I, of course, thought of the movie Twister whilst driving through OK as most of it takes place in OK. And passing the ditches along the road, I thought that if a tornado happened along, we could drive into one of the deep ditches along the road and take cover in the piping. In OK, I also thought of Where the Heart Is as it too is set in that state. And the movie Newsies driving through New Mexico: "Santa Fe, are ya there? Do you swear ya won't forget me? If I found ya, would you let me come and stay?...."
Because of all the rain, the country from Virginia on was so green until Texas. Texas looked like it could use the rain Mom drove in. Despite that, Texas was still so beautiful. I would have liked to linger there longer.
There were large, fluffy clouds over New Mexico and entering Arizona, we were greeted by two, formidable, pock-marked boulders; the next exit off 40W was Window Rock. Fitting.
Becuase of the lack of major or even semi-major cities marked on the AZ map, I decided it would be safest to stop in Holbrook for gas, food and lodging. No telling how far down the road we could make it before we found another place to lay our heads.
As I said earlier, we crossed two time zones this day: from central --> mountain (9:52 so nice, decided to live it twice), then mountain --> pacific. By the time we were settled in our room at the Holiday Inn Express, my body had no concept of the time. Flying is easier in this respect.
Driving the past three days my mind -- being my mind -- thought of several movies. Stand By Me everytime I saw a train, and driving through some of the flooded areas reminded me of the leeches -- hehe. I, of course, thought of the movie Twister whilst driving through OK as most of it takes place in OK. And passing the ditches along the road, I thought that if a tornado happened along, we could drive into one of the deep ditches along the road and take cover in the piping. In OK, I also thought of Where the Heart Is as it too is set in that state. And the movie Newsies driving through New Mexico: "Santa Fe, are ya there? Do you swear ya won't forget me? If I found ya, would you let me come and stay?...."
Day Two: VA -- CA - May 17 2011
Tuesday. Mom artfully drove us out of Memphis. A bit dicey. And we continued our jouney across 40W.
There were warnings that 40W was closed at exit 216 Brinkley, Arkansas. I'd spoken with Dad the night before about taking a different route. He was worried that Mom and I would encounter major flooding from the Mississippi continuing down 40 through the first half of AR. Once the internet finally connected, I looked at the AR DOT website and discovered they had a detour to follow. The detour would only add an hour to our trip, whereas Dad's route would add at least two.
I decided (since Mom was "just along for the ride") to take our chances with the AR detour. Good decision. It was apparent driving past the Mississippi River area where the flooding had been, but the roads were perfectly fine and most of the waters had receded. The detour that began at exit 216 in Brinkley was well marked, and at each turn there was an officer directing detour traffic.
Driving through AR, I again chuckled to myself at some of the place names listed on the exit signs: Lotawatah Rd. followed by a bridge that crossed Euphala Lake.
Then we crossed into -- is everyone ready? With me now -- Oooooklahoma! Where the wind comes sweeping down the plains.
There weren't many winds. Didn't seem like anything above a breeze disturbed the beautiful Oklahoma country, however, many of the trees were bent right, which since we were travelling 40 west, I'll venture to say the trees were bent north. I wondered at this phenomenon.
We ate lunch/dinner at an Arbys outside Oklahoma City, and again I seemed to have a knack for hitting the major city, in this case OK City, during the 5 'o clock hour.
Around 8pm we arrived in Shamrock, Texas -- a truck stop town. All the major hotes were filled, but one front desk lady advised trying the Western Motel. She said it was clean. The Western Motel had a vacant room, was clean, and the man at the front desk was friendly enough. But I watch too much TV and thought the room looked like a nice place to be killed in. It was nothing like my experience at the Blue Sky Hostel where I stayed for one night in Glasgow, Scotland, but for about an hour, I was paranoid my car would be stolen. Just too much TV working on my imagination.
Riding through OK, I listened to the Caedmons Call album 40 Acres. Some of the songs seemed relevant to my life 10 years ago when I first came to CA for 4 years of college, but listening now, the whole album resonates with my life like teh soundtrack to a John Hughes movie.
There were warnings that 40W was closed at exit 216 Brinkley, Arkansas. I'd spoken with Dad the night before about taking a different route. He was worried that Mom and I would encounter major flooding from the Mississippi continuing down 40 through the first half of AR. Once the internet finally connected, I looked at the AR DOT website and discovered they had a detour to follow. The detour would only add an hour to our trip, whereas Dad's route would add at least two.
I decided (since Mom was "just along for the ride") to take our chances with the AR detour. Good decision. It was apparent driving past the Mississippi River area where the flooding had been, but the roads were perfectly fine and most of the waters had receded. The detour that began at exit 216 in Brinkley was well marked, and at each turn there was an officer directing detour traffic.
Driving through AR, I again chuckled to myself at some of the place names listed on the exit signs: Lotawatah Rd. followed by a bridge that crossed Euphala Lake.
Then we crossed into -- is everyone ready? With me now -- Oooooklahoma! Where the wind comes sweeping down the plains.
There weren't many winds. Didn't seem like anything above a breeze disturbed the beautiful Oklahoma country, however, many of the trees were bent right, which since we were travelling 40 west, I'll venture to say the trees were bent north. I wondered at this phenomenon.
We ate lunch/dinner at an Arbys outside Oklahoma City, and again I seemed to have a knack for hitting the major city, in this case OK City, during the 5 'o clock hour.
Around 8pm we arrived in Shamrock, Texas -- a truck stop town. All the major hotes were filled, but one front desk lady advised trying the Western Motel. She said it was clean. The Western Motel had a vacant room, was clean, and the man at the front desk was friendly enough. But I watch too much TV and thought the room looked like a nice place to be killed in. It was nothing like my experience at the Blue Sky Hostel where I stayed for one night in Glasgow, Scotland, but for about an hour, I was paranoid my car would be stolen. Just too much TV working on my imagination.
Riding through OK, I listened to the Caedmons Call album 40 Acres. Some of the songs seemed relevant to my life 10 years ago when I first came to CA for 4 years of college, but listening now, the whole album resonates with my life like teh soundtrack to a John Hughes movie.
Day One: VA -- CA - May 17 2011
I don't remember much of what I was going to write regarding the drive from Virginia to California as I didn't have my Thought Book handy to write for part of the time, and I was driving the other part. Honestly, there's not much to tell either. It was a little boring driving across 40W and the trip was uneventful. But with the few notes I wrote each night to spur some memory, I shall try to write something semi-interesting.
The first day of our trip, Monday, May 9, we drove from Ferrum, VA to Memphis, Tennessee. Leaving Mom's house sometime around 8am, we first stopped at CVS to buy some last-minute provisions then began our trek down 81S. Dad was working at an Exxon truck stop just off 81, so I popped in for a minute to again say "goodbye." Mom and I took 81S to 40W, which we followed all the way to Holbrook, Arizona.
Somewhere in Tenn. we passed roadkill -- an armadillo. I'd never seen that before. I was amused by some of the town names and street names listed on the exit signs: Bucksnort (what inspired that delicate name?) and Loosahatchie (You loosa your hatch, eh?). We stopped for lunch at a McDonalds outside of Knoxville.
We were warned by mom's stepson, a truck driver who frequents 40W in TN that it was a mess of construction and road work. We didn't encounter any construction, only traffic in major cities like Knoxville and Nashville, the latter of which I hit at the 5 'o clock hour.
We arrived in Memphis and checked into a Best Western. Very sweet. It was huge. Had a kitchenette. And we got a great rate. In Memphis, we were on central time. While it was 8:21 pm in Memphis, it was 9:21 pm in Virginia.
The first day of our trip, Monday, May 9, we drove from Ferrum, VA to Memphis, Tennessee. Leaving Mom's house sometime around 8am, we first stopped at CVS to buy some last-minute provisions then began our trek down 81S. Dad was working at an Exxon truck stop just off 81, so I popped in for a minute to again say "goodbye." Mom and I took 81S to 40W, which we followed all the way to Holbrook, Arizona.
Somewhere in Tenn. we passed roadkill -- an armadillo. I'd never seen that before. I was amused by some of the town names and street names listed on the exit signs: Bucksnort (what inspired that delicate name?) and Loosahatchie (You loosa your hatch, eh?). We stopped for lunch at a McDonalds outside of Knoxville.
We were warned by mom's stepson, a truck driver who frequents 40W in TN that it was a mess of construction and road work. We didn't encounter any construction, only traffic in major cities like Knoxville and Nashville, the latter of which I hit at the 5 'o clock hour.
We arrived in Memphis and checked into a Best Western. Very sweet. It was huge. Had a kitchenette. And we got a great rate. In Memphis, we were on central time. While it was 8:21 pm in Memphis, it was 9:21 pm in Virginia.
When You Don't Know What to Say - Feb 16 2011
Sometimes we get to the point where we're beyond hurt feelings. It does hurt, but not in the same way. The hurt doesn't follow with, "That figures." Nor does it follow with disbelief. It follows with the understanding that the other person will never understand the fullness of his/her "beatings," so what's the point in feelling hurt?
My situation is I have an elephant's memory when it comes to some things and the other party does not. There's no point in feeling hurt. Can't discuss what the other party doesn't remember. What the other party doesn't see....and never will see.
Yes, I'm hurt and angry, but it doesn't feel fresh and new. It's not like pouring salt in an old wound or scraping off a scar and watching the wound bleed anew. I want to say it's more like there's been nerve damage, but that's not really it either.
Maybe I just have a fuller understanding of who the other party is now and am letting him/her be that. Even though it often ends in me once again being hurt and angry about something he/she'll never fully understand.
I'm just starting to repeat myself now. Perhaps I don't fully understand the situation either except that I'm beyond my feelings being hurt......................
My situation is I have an elephant's memory when it comes to some things and the other party does not. There's no point in feeling hurt. Can't discuss what the other party doesn't remember. What the other party doesn't see....and never will see.
Yes, I'm hurt and angry, but it doesn't feel fresh and new. It's not like pouring salt in an old wound or scraping off a scar and watching the wound bleed anew. I want to say it's more like there's been nerve damage, but that's not really it either.
Maybe I just have a fuller understanding of who the other party is now and am letting him/her be that. Even though it often ends in me once again being hurt and angry about something he/she'll never fully understand.
I'm just starting to repeat myself now. Perhaps I don't fully understand the situation either except that I'm beyond my feelings being hurt......................
Dreams - Oct 24 2010
Describe miserable: moving. Anywhere. Even from one room in the house to another. For very good reasons, I have moved from my lovely cubby downstairs (just enough room for my stuff) to the room 1/2 its size upstairs. I'm so tired I could cry and there is just enough room for me to walk to the bed. Why does tomorrow have to be Monday?
If I was married right now, I would be sitting on the front porch with my honey-love, drinking hot apple cider and watching the glow of my pumpkin. Oh love of my life, M'love, M'love. I wait in happy anticipation for the day of this simple pleasure.
If I was married right now, I would be sitting on the front porch with my honey-love, drinking hot apple cider and watching the glow of my pumpkin. Oh love of my life, M'love, M'love. I wait in happy anticipation for the day of this simple pleasure.
Yeah, It's Kinda Like That - Aug 18 2010
descriptions of the "Fork Factory" from Andrew Peterson's North! or be Eaten (Book Two of the Wingfeather Saga)
Janner cleared his throat. "Hello." He waited for an answer. A few of the children glanced at him but kept eating without a word. "My name's Esben.[...]Just got here."
"We can see that," said the boy directly across from him.[...]"You'll find there's not much to talk about after a while."
Janner spent the first several hours thinking of his family [...then] about the books he had recently read. He recalled the characters from the stories, the settings, the themes of the books. But his mind kept slowing to a thoughtless sludge, a world where all that mattered was the hiss of the machines and the cutting of metal. Whenever his table of mishapen blades and forks was close to empty -- but never completely empty, to his great frustration -- a child appeared with another full wheelbarrow. Whenever Janner attempted conversation with the children, they never answered or met his eyes. He wanted to grab their faces and force them to look at him, to acknowledge his presence, to act as if they were still human.
He couldn't imagine spending another day in the factory. [...He] could feel his mind shrinking. There was nothing to talk about, laugh about, or think about, except the machines. Every child who crossed his path frightened Janner more, because he knew that if he remained in the Fork Factory for long, he too would forget who he was. His eyes would glaze over, he would pass his days in mindless repetition, never thinking, never dreaming, forgetting that a wide, bright world lay outside.
Janner cleared his throat. "Hello." He waited for an answer. A few of the children glanced at him but kept eating without a word. "My name's Esben.[...]Just got here."
"We can see that," said the boy directly across from him.[...]"You'll find there's not much to talk about after a while."
Janner spent the first several hours thinking of his family [...then] about the books he had recently read. He recalled the characters from the stories, the settings, the themes of the books. But his mind kept slowing to a thoughtless sludge, a world where all that mattered was the hiss of the machines and the cutting of metal. Whenever his table of mishapen blades and forks was close to empty -- but never completely empty, to his great frustration -- a child appeared with another full wheelbarrow. Whenever Janner attempted conversation with the children, they never answered or met his eyes. He wanted to grab their faces and force them to look at him, to acknowledge his presence, to act as if they were still human.
He couldn't imagine spending another day in the factory. [...He] could feel his mind shrinking. There was nothing to talk about, laugh about, or think about, except the machines. Every child who crossed his path frightened Janner more, because he knew that if he remained in the Fork Factory for long, he too would forget who he was. His eyes would glaze over, he would pass his days in mindless repetition, never thinking, never dreaming, forgetting that a wide, bright world lay outside.
Needing a Hero - Jul 31 2010
Criminal Minds should make their characters superheroes (not flying around in
tights or anything -- though a sharp skirt or worn cardigan helps). Base each team
member off a superhero -- turn their stories into something of myth grounded firmly
in reality. Each character could be a reflection of one of the famous superheroes --
tragic flaws and all. Lord of the Rings is a fantasy, mythic with flawed superheroes,
yet it is grounded in reality and has outlasted many others. (I admit my bias in
using this example as I am a total nerd for LOTR and most things Tolkien.)
All the other procedurals (with maybe the possible exception of Without a Trace)
are after the crime has happened. There isn't usually someone to save; a moral to
uphold maybe, but the crime has already happened -- no one to save, no crime to
prevent. Hotch even said in one episode that he switched from being a lawyer to
being an agent in the BAU in order to stop the crime before it gets to his desk.
The world hasn't seen many real heroes lately. No more wars that are fought for
"good." Not since WWII it seems. It seems that was the last "good" war with the last
"real" heroes. Give the CM characters the impossible moral questions and decisions
and for the love of all that is good and holy, have them choose to do the right thing.
Yes, they make the wrong choice sometimes, but they know it and move on from it.
I see Hotch as Superman. I don't know who the others would be. The team has
suffered so many losses lately and not many wins, and with the balance of the entire CM universe about to be upset (with JJ leaving and soon after Emily Prentiss), it
needs something to bring balance back to the universe. CM will need a Luke
Skywalker to restore balance -- a new hope. Perhaps a slight shift could be made in
the show and more episodes (not all of them) could show glimpses from the victims'
points of view, how scared they are and then the team comes in to rescue them -- not
always, of course, because you can't always win.
It feels like we're falling apart. We need a hero. CM -- they prevent the crime.
They have the beginnings of mythic stories -- in the first season the team was likened
to King Arthur and the knights of the round table, and as was pointed out in the same
season (and episode) there are 7 on the team, 7 being a mythic or magical number of
completion. Each character has been through something of a hero's journey at some
point in the show. Now it can be stepped up.
Going back to heroes in general, we've had heroes since WWII, but they've all
been shot down, though not quite silenced. John F. Kennedy. Bobby Kennedy.
Martin Luther King, Jr. Hopes, dreams, heroes -- shot down. Destroyed by hatred (fed
by fear). But doesn't love overcome all? There is always hope. We need to know
that. Desperately -- we need to know that.
What started this tangent (which is really much more than a tangent in my life)
was a show on Biography about Superman. And the quote: "They can be a great
people, Kal-El; they wish to be; they only lack the light to show the way." (from Superman the Movie).
tights or anything -- though a sharp skirt or worn cardigan helps). Base each team
member off a superhero -- turn their stories into something of myth grounded firmly
in reality. Each character could be a reflection of one of the famous superheroes --
tragic flaws and all. Lord of the Rings is a fantasy, mythic with flawed superheroes,
yet it is grounded in reality and has outlasted many others. (I admit my bias in
using this example as I am a total nerd for LOTR and most things Tolkien.)
All the other procedurals (with maybe the possible exception of Without a Trace)
are after the crime has happened. There isn't usually someone to save; a moral to
uphold maybe, but the crime has already happened -- no one to save, no crime to
prevent. Hotch even said in one episode that he switched from being a lawyer to
being an agent in the BAU in order to stop the crime before it gets to his desk.
The world hasn't seen many real heroes lately. No more wars that are fought for
"good." Not since WWII it seems. It seems that was the last "good" war with the last
"real" heroes. Give the CM characters the impossible moral questions and decisions
and for the love of all that is good and holy, have them choose to do the right thing.
Yes, they make the wrong choice sometimes, but they know it and move on from it.
I see Hotch as Superman. I don't know who the others would be. The team has
suffered so many losses lately and not many wins, and with the balance of the entire CM universe about to be upset (with JJ leaving and soon after Emily Prentiss), it
needs something to bring balance back to the universe. CM will need a Luke
Skywalker to restore balance -- a new hope. Perhaps a slight shift could be made in
the show and more episodes (not all of them) could show glimpses from the victims'
points of view, how scared they are and then the team comes in to rescue them -- not
always, of course, because you can't always win.
It feels like we're falling apart. We need a hero. CM -- they prevent the crime.
They have the beginnings of mythic stories -- in the first season the team was likened
to King Arthur and the knights of the round table, and as was pointed out in the same
season (and episode) there are 7 on the team, 7 being a mythic or magical number of
completion. Each character has been through something of a hero's journey at some
point in the show. Now it can be stepped up.
Going back to heroes in general, we've had heroes since WWII, but they've all
been shot down, though not quite silenced. John F. Kennedy. Bobby Kennedy.
Martin Luther King, Jr. Hopes, dreams, heroes -- shot down. Destroyed by hatred (fed
by fear). But doesn't love overcome all? There is always hope. We need to know
that. Desperately -- we need to know that.
What started this tangent (which is really much more than a tangent in my life)
was a show on Biography about Superman. And the quote: "They can be a great
people, Kal-El; they wish to be; they only lack the light to show the way." (from Superman the Movie).
"You Can Fly" - Jun 2 2010
The Killers have a line that goes "The sky is full of dreams, but you don't know how to fly." I'd alter that just a bit (with regards to my life right now - the song is called "This is Your Life") to say, The sky is full of dreams, but I've forgotten how to fly. According to Peter Pan all it takes to fly is faith, trust and a little pixie dust. The faith I have, except for the trust, which I'm fighting a battle to learn. (For trust as you know if you've read Heb. 11 is part of faith.) But the pixie dust I've run out of. Anyone have some pixie dust they can spare?
Back to the Gypsy Kingdom - Jun 1 2010
I wrote this the beginning of May: it's based on personal experience and inspired by friends (namely the "bard queen").
The brave prince stepped off the plane. The crusader had returned home. Despite his anxiousness to meet up with those he loves most, he paused for a moment to draw a deep breath. Another adventure had passed, and now he was home. Though other adventures were no less important, no less significant, this crusade had lasted for a year -- a whole year in a foreign land away from so much familiar, never sure when would be the next contact with those he loves most. And now he'd returned home. Except Home wasn't where it was when he left his crusade. The Gypsy Kingdom had moved once again, which was fine, as long as their majesties were there as they've always been.
The brave prince stepped forward. Home. Home was waiting for him by the gate. A whole year. For one second everything -- his travels, his trials and victories, finally seeing Home -- filled him at once so he could hardly breathe. Then he released it and remembered the moment.
He'd made it to the gate. The prince being so tall did not have to look hard to see them, to see his precious Home craning, jumping up and down, prancing in place all in excitement to see their brave prince Home. A year. A whole year. And then he was in their arms. He looked at their faces, their beautiful faces: the warrior king, the fair and kind princess and the bard queen. Home.
The brave prince stepped off the plane. The crusader had returned home. Despite his anxiousness to meet up with those he loves most, he paused for a moment to draw a deep breath. Another adventure had passed, and now he was home. Though other adventures were no less important, no less significant, this crusade had lasted for a year -- a whole year in a foreign land away from so much familiar, never sure when would be the next contact with those he loves most. And now he'd returned home. Except Home wasn't where it was when he left his crusade. The Gypsy Kingdom had moved once again, which was fine, as long as their majesties were there as they've always been.
The brave prince stepped forward. Home. Home was waiting for him by the gate. A whole year. For one second everything -- his travels, his trials and victories, finally seeing Home -- filled him at once so he could hardly breathe. Then he released it and remembered the moment.
He'd made it to the gate. The prince being so tall did not have to look hard to see them, to see his precious Home craning, jumping up and down, prancing in place all in excitement to see their brave prince Home. A year. A whole year. And then he was in their arms. He looked at their faces, their beautiful faces: the warrior king, the fair and kind princess and the bard queen. Home.
Things I Think About on My...14 - Apr 12 2010
I haven't written one of these in a while. I'm not very happy at work, so I think about driving somewhere else -- imagining I'm driving somewhere else, being somewhere else, making enough money to live by myself.....Not much room to think about other things interesting enough to post.
There are some movies out I want to see. Out in the theaters. I got The Princess and the Frog from Netflix this weekend and watched it. Excellent movie. Had all the elements of what made other Disney movies from Lion King back great. What's out that I want to see: How to Train Your Dragon, Hot Tub Time Machine and Date Night. (I pass a movie theater sign that shows what's playing on my way to work if you're wondering how this is applicable to anything.)
Well, this one was kind of a downer. Will have to think of something funny next time.
There are some movies out I want to see. Out in the theaters. I got The Princess and the Frog from Netflix this weekend and watched it. Excellent movie. Had all the elements of what made other Disney movies from Lion King back great. What's out that I want to see: How to Train Your Dragon, Hot Tub Time Machine and Date Night. (I pass a movie theater sign that shows what's playing on my way to work if you're wondering how this is applicable to anything.)
Well, this one was kind of a downer. Will have to think of something funny next time.
Things I Dream About Before I Wake Up for Work - Apr 12 2010
I had a dream last night -- I dreamed of T.L.O.M.L. I was surrounded by him. He had his arms around me holding my hands. He was orchestrating my movements. I had just met him. We were goofing-off.
It was a silly, rather ridiculous dream, but it was mine, and it was him.
It was a silly, rather ridiculous dream, but it was mine, and it was him.
The Wing and a Prayer to San Diego - Feb 14 2010
Flying from Cincinatti, KY to San Diego: normally looking down on the world below, the earth is a mixture of browns and greens, but today it was all white with veins of earth that looked like the etchings of snowflakes. Huges snowflakes layed upon the ground like puzzle pieces. The farther west we flew, the less snow there was. You could make out shapes in the "snowflakes" like you would in the clouds. (Dragons do exist in case you were wondering.) When the clouds blocked the view to the earth, they looked like marshmallow cream puff.
I've no idea what caused it, but I even saw a rainbow ring in the clouds. It was faint -- a yellow bullseye in the center, a yellow ring merging into a sliver of orange, merging into a pale pinkish-red. It was lovely.
I love rainbows. I've told people before about my never tiring of seeing rainbows in Ireland. There are so many, the novelty wears off, but not for me. I was like a kid in a candy store, "A rainbow!" Five minutes later, "Another rainbow!" Later that afternoon, "Look, a rainbow. Wow." Of course, by this time, I was talking to myself since the awe of the recurrent phenomenon had worn off for everybody else.
I thought of rainbows this morning on our drive to the Greensboro airport. The roads were clear of the snow that we had slushed through the previous morning. The sky was partly clear; I could make out some stars. Praying to God we could make it out of Greensboro to San Diego today (our flight was cancelled yesterday due to weather), I looked at the stars and said to God, "They're not a rainbow, but they'll do." Yes, indeed, there is always hope.
Back to the actual flight, there were times the plane was flying against such a wind, it seemed we were holding still in the sky, barely moving past the lines of the ground below.
The midwest, normally shaded with some greens, was only a palate of browns today. I could tell it was the midwest because of all the crop-circles, I mean crops, shaped upon the ground. The browns were paler where snow dusted the ground like confectionary sugar on french toast....Mmm... french toast with confectionary sugar sounds really good. Have to get me some of that....Anyways.
Over another state, I'm not sure which one, the palette of browns in their various squares and circles and rectangles began to look like make-up compacts -- your foundations, your powders and your eyeshadows. It was like the department store beauty counter for giantesses that live up in the sky -- Maicints (pronounced may-cents; Macys for giants of course).
I saw another rainbow target -- fainter and bigger than the one before. I know how rainbows appear with water and sun, but I'd never seen a target-shaped one before today.
Speaking of things never before seen, I even saw a brontosaurus walking amongst the snow of clouds. Clouds are amazing from above. It looks as if you could walk on top a pile of them, yet, if you actually stepped out, you would plummet through the wisps of air and whatever else clouds are made of -- water, electric charge, snowman poop, angels' snot, whatever. Skipping out onto the clouds is at once a terrorfying and thrilling thought. Oh to be Lois Lane and hitch a ride with Superman. ///Another digression: I love how even to his dying day, Christopher Reeves remained Superman. Forever Superman.///
I saw yet another target rainbow; this one was fainter still than the first and smaller than both the previous ones. This one was mostly yellow barely glinting any orange.
Oh wow, those snow-capped mountains were.....wow, incredible, amazing. Well done, God. I was thankful for the eyes to see them. They may have been the Rockies, but I really couldn't tell.
I've no idea what caused it, but I even saw a rainbow ring in the clouds. It was faint -- a yellow bullseye in the center, a yellow ring merging into a sliver of orange, merging into a pale pinkish-red. It was lovely.
I love rainbows. I've told people before about my never tiring of seeing rainbows in Ireland. There are so many, the novelty wears off, but not for me. I was like a kid in a candy store, "A rainbow!" Five minutes later, "Another rainbow!" Later that afternoon, "Look, a rainbow. Wow." Of course, by this time, I was talking to myself since the awe of the recurrent phenomenon had worn off for everybody else.
I thought of rainbows this morning on our drive to the Greensboro airport. The roads were clear of the snow that we had slushed through the previous morning. The sky was partly clear; I could make out some stars. Praying to God we could make it out of Greensboro to San Diego today (our flight was cancelled yesterday due to weather), I looked at the stars and said to God, "They're not a rainbow, but they'll do." Yes, indeed, there is always hope.
Back to the actual flight, there were times the plane was flying against such a wind, it seemed we were holding still in the sky, barely moving past the lines of the ground below.
The midwest, normally shaded with some greens, was only a palate of browns today. I could tell it was the midwest because of all the crop-circles, I mean crops, shaped upon the ground. The browns were paler where snow dusted the ground like confectionary sugar on french toast....Mmm... french toast with confectionary sugar sounds really good. Have to get me some of that....Anyways.
Over another state, I'm not sure which one, the palette of browns in their various squares and circles and rectangles began to look like make-up compacts -- your foundations, your powders and your eyeshadows. It was like the department store beauty counter for giantesses that live up in the sky -- Maicints (pronounced may-cents; Macys for giants of course).
I saw another rainbow target -- fainter and bigger than the one before. I know how rainbows appear with water and sun, but I'd never seen a target-shaped one before today.
Speaking of things never before seen, I even saw a brontosaurus walking amongst the snow of clouds. Clouds are amazing from above. It looks as if you could walk on top a pile of them, yet, if you actually stepped out, you would plummet through the wisps of air and whatever else clouds are made of -- water, electric charge, snowman poop, angels' snot, whatever. Skipping out onto the clouds is at once a terrorfying and thrilling thought. Oh to be Lois Lane and hitch a ride with Superman. ///Another digression: I love how even to his dying day, Christopher Reeves remained Superman. Forever Superman.///
I saw yet another target rainbow; this one was fainter still than the first and smaller than both the previous ones. This one was mostly yellow barely glinting any orange.
Oh wow, those snow-capped mountains were.....wow, incredible, amazing. Well done, God. I was thankful for the eyes to see them. They may have been the Rockies, but I really couldn't tell.
After we passed the midwest and sailed on to over the southwest, there were tiles of various greens and browns and several tiles of purple placed about sporadically. Corners of the "paint" were worn off some tiles. Immediately following the small floor of tile was the desert, one vast sandy-brown landscape shaded with hills. And that was twenty minutes from our landing in San Diego.
/// The End ///
/// The End ///
Things I Think About on My Drive to Work 13 - Jan 6 2010
Groundhogs Day -- a forgotten classic. "Ned! Ned Needlemeyer!" And a 180-degree spin to the camera
.
Bill Murray is a holiday classic. Groundhogs Day. Scrooged (Christmas). Stripes (for all military holidays, like Memorial Day -- "Doo wah diddee, diddee dum, diddee doo"). Ghostbusters (great for Halloween or Christmas). SNL Halloween shows. Meatballs (to celebrate Summer in all its glorious possibilities). And didn't he dress up as a bunny in something?
Bill Murray - for every season and holiday.
And for those in the mood for just a wee bite of awesomeness (or a big bite considering everyone that's in it and how great they are) -- Little Shop of Horrors. "Thank you! THANK YOU!"
And if you haven't seen any of those -- what the cuss are you waiting for?! (Fantastic Mr. Fox for those keeping up.)
. Bill Murray is a holiday classic. Groundhogs Day. Scrooged (Christmas). Stripes (for all military holidays, like Memorial Day -- "Doo wah diddee, diddee dum, diddee doo"). Ghostbusters (great for Halloween or Christmas). SNL Halloween shows. Meatballs (to celebrate Summer in all its glorious possibilities). And didn't he dress up as a bunny in something?
Bill Murray - for every season and holiday.
And for those in the mood for just a wee bite of awesomeness (or a big bite considering everyone that's in it and how great they are) -- Little Shop of Horrors. "Thank you! THANK YOU!"
And if you haven't seen any of those -- what the cuss are you waiting for?! (Fantastic Mr. Fox for those keeping up.)
Monday, December 10, 2012
The Lovely Bones and Moments - Nov 30 2009
I'm reading The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. It's such a sad book. Sad like Flowers for Algernon. It is very sad, yet engaging. I wouldn't say it's a favourite of mine -- I'm not going to buy it. I'm interested in how the film will turn out.
That's why I'm reading it. Peter Jackson and his crew have adapted The Lovely Bones. The movie comes out Dec. 13 (I think). The book doesn't seem like it would make a good movie. Very curious to see it.
The movie adaptation of Flowers for Algernon, Charly, wasn't all that great. Although, it did have Claire Bloom whom I kind of enjoy watching. (She's in a lot of stuff including The Haunting.)
I remember the moment I connected wtih Flowers for Algernon. Those beautiful moments in a book or movie when you know exactly how that feels and for that wonderfully, horribly brief moment you transcend to this world where you're "gotten." (No feeling in this world is like that of being got.) Flowers for Algernon. Lars and the Real Girl. Those are a couple I remember. Those moments are so precious. And we cling like hell to something that was meant to last but a moment and is forever after tucked away into a crevice of our souls, always there, but never to be found on purpose. A moment only to be accessed by accident. All that's left is a faded memory like a carbon copy.
I've had a few moments reading my one and only's words, but perhaps that's all they were meant to be is moments; perhaps nothing more. But there is always hope.
That's why I'm reading it. Peter Jackson and his crew have adapted The Lovely Bones. The movie comes out Dec. 13 (I think). The book doesn't seem like it would make a good movie. Very curious to see it.
The movie adaptation of Flowers for Algernon, Charly, wasn't all that great. Although, it did have Claire Bloom whom I kind of enjoy watching. (She's in a lot of stuff including The Haunting.)
I remember the moment I connected wtih Flowers for Algernon. Those beautiful moments in a book or movie when you know exactly how that feels and for that wonderfully, horribly brief moment you transcend to this world where you're "gotten." (No feeling in this world is like that of being got.) Flowers for Algernon. Lars and the Real Girl. Those are a couple I remember. Those moments are so precious. And we cling like hell to something that was meant to last but a moment and is forever after tucked away into a crevice of our souls, always there, but never to be found on purpose. A moment only to be accessed by accident. All that's left is a faded memory like a carbon copy.
I've had a few moments reading my one and only's words, but perhaps that's all they were meant to be is moments; perhaps nothing more. But there is always hope.
A Good Way to Spend on October Evening - Oct 3 2009
1) Smores ("Some more what?"),
2) a full moon bright as a headlight,
and 3) friends.
2) a full moon bright as a headlight,
and 3) friends.
Spumoni - Sep 27 2009
Spumoni, spumoni, spumoni, spumoni. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you, spumoni, I love you, I do.
Spumoni, spumoni, fun to eat and fun to say, just like.....uh.....Pupperoni!
Dear spumoni. I love you. You taste gud. Stephanie
I love you, spumoni, I love you, I do.
Spumoni, spumoni, fun to eat and fun to say, just like.....uh.....Pupperoni!
Dear spumoni. I love you. You taste gud. Stephanie
Things I Think About....12 - Sep 15 (?) 2009
Darling Patrick Swayze. Rest in peace.
Not only is it a bad year for celebrities, but I feel like my childhood is dying too -- Michael Jackson, John Hughes and now Patrick Swayze. It's heartbreaking and makes me question.
Not only is it a bad year for celebrities, but I feel like my childhood is dying too -- Michael Jackson, John Hughes and now Patrick Swayze. It's heartbreaking and makes me question.
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