geronimo
June 29, 2008
yesterday, as will and i drove along the south side of 495 on our way to merriweather for thievery corporation w/ seu jorge & tv on the radio, we noticed something seemingly normal: a deer crossing sign.
beware! (it shouted). deer crossing. don’t hit any. we warned you.
but look closer at the geography surrounding our eight-lane monster highway, and you’d be surprised. like we were.
see, there are these enormously tall retaining walls made of tons and tons of concrete. they are super high. they certainly don’t look like the wild; a place where deer could simply wandering aimlessly out of and ignorantly into the beaming high lights of an oncoming semi tracking 85.
which got will and i thinking: that would be MUCH MUCH cooler if deer could actually parachute off the concrete walls. instead of trying to cross the busy highway by walking all the way around the giant retaining wall — i mean, we’re talking miles — what if the deer just strapped on a giant umbrella fashioned by its herd — it’d be made of leaves or something — and leaped off the tall wall only to glide peacefully into oncoming traffic?
the sign could look like this instead:
yes, please.
the power of connotation
March 11, 2008
an old friend once told me that there is no difference chemically in the brain’s responses to the word “excited” versus “anxious.” literally, the brain releases the exact same endorphins/adrenaline. the difference lies completely in the way a person reacts to the connotation of the word.
i don’t know if this is true, and i’m too scared to look. because truth-be-told, it’s helped me tremendously to change my mindset.
lots of things used to make me anxious. i didn’t look at situations as opportunities for learning and growth, or for joy and laughter. they instead made me feel instantly nervous, and i panicked at all of the unrealistic consequences that COULD happen. all those “what if” statements can do a number if you let them.
and i did.
so when i really worked to redefine my views on certain aspects of life, i took great comfort in the notion that a word — a single word — could mean the difference between me tackling the world or curling up in bed clutching blankie and avoiding the possible fallout i’d contrived in my active imagination.
i know i also subscribe (understandable but arguably unnecessary) weight to words like “relationship” and treat others like “love” with incongruous frivolity. i don’t even believe in marriage but i’ve managed to tell many people that i want to marry them for anything from buying me a drink to coming up with some ridiculously awesome idea.
but how i process words like that potentially involve others, whereas just being nervous about an upcoming client meeting only affects me.
damn you*, life, and your constant teachings!
i’m all about learning to redefine what i have ultimately deemed personally inhibitive in some way.
ok is it somewhat scary? sure. but NAYE, in fact, i’m excited about it.
* and by damn you i mean ok i see your point but does it have to be so hard sometimes?
why vitamin water deserves a second shot
February 25, 2008
the first time i ever had vitamin water, i thought it tasted like clouds. or what clouds taste like if you try eating them. i never have. but i imagine they taste like the strawberry kiwi flavor of vitamin water.
now, i know the drink is basically extra calories or whatever, so it kind of works against me trying to keep my girlish figure, but i can’t help it. with radass flavors like “XXX” (just imagine! triple X? so delicious it cannot be named?!? i daresay it must taste like the purest drinks reserved for badasses like vin diesel of chuck norris. but, naye! it’s acai (as if you don’t know what THAT is), blueberry and pomegranite! only the trendiest fruits around!!!!) and “essential,” (aka orange plus tasty calcium) who am i to say no?
no one! that’s who! i must drink vitamin water!
but vitamin water is also radass because of its witty packaging messages like “for best results, stick it in the fridge,” or “the inside is natural. the outside is plastic.”
phew, i’m glad they cleared that one up. i had been trying to drink the bottle itself.
so taking all this into account, i ventured back into vitamin water territory. this was several months ago. i remain addicted to this day, partial to the tubular flavors above plus the lemonade one and ooh! the apple raspberry.
everyone — or thing, i guess — deserves a second shot, right?
i build furniture. then, i build more.
February 23, 2008
my bed is pretty much the only piece of furniture i’ve designed and built in my life that has lasted more than a year. each other item, from a desk to an entertainment hutch to THREE entertainment centers (now four, actually), has transformed from one piece to another, me constantly putting together and taking apart to build something new.
i make all the furniture from scratch. i spec it out on a piece of paper, take mostly flawed measurements, then head to the hardware store to buy what normally is either mdf or the next cheapest sheet of wood. i bought a saturn vue in college with a defining charactertistic in mind — the fold flat back seats and wide width would accommodate the majority of a 4×8 piece of wood.
score.
i wish i took pictures of these creations and recreations. my friends think it’s hilarious. josh used to laugh at the fact that his mom gave him sweaters for christmas while i was given a socket set. not many 27-year-old single women i know own their own 6 amp electric power drill or a power sander or saber or circular saw. just me.
today, i spent half the afternoon dissecting what i built last year to encase will’s 42-inch tv; a glorious jacobean stained entertainment center complete with bifold doors. however, the top bifold doors were jacked. i failed to realize my circular saw had the ability to route the edges of the doors. they close with force, and overall i was happy with the bohemeth, but, in the end, i knocked off the top section and stayed with the bottom. i like it better.
it doesn’t surprise me that for most of my building endeavors, i end up liking the finished product only temporarily. long enough to forget the hours and splinters and costs (ok, like $50, but still) associated with my project. once the sacrifices are gone, i revisit the attempted end goal that i rushed to deliver in the first place.
i’m either not patient enough or not talented enough. maybe both. but i’m optimistic and willing to make valiant attempts anyway.
