Monday, July 19, 2010


I wish I had something to offer people on my blog. If only I had some sort of AMAZING product to advertise, or some super cool talent that made everyone think I am a skilled master of everything. That would make life more interesting. More interesting than it is now. I feel like.... I don't know. Something that sounds amazing and maybe even has a really cool label, but as soon as you look inside, you're like, "hey I've been scammed!"

I don't want to scam you people. I want to have quality. Quality something. One time I bought a really expensive teeth whitening toothpaste just to annoy one of my companions on my mission, and told him the only reason I am buying it is because it has an exciting and shiny box. I could see my reflection in the box! But then within 3-5 days, I realized that I was actually cheated, because my teeth did not become noticeably whiter. IT WAS A SCAM that I payed too much money for.

Not that I am ever going to ask for money from you. That would be wrong. Maybe I've gone off on a completely irrelevant tangent about toothpaste. The point is, I don't want to be like that retardedly expensive toothpaste, and have you all tell your friends, "hey you should read this." and then NOT get white teeth afterwards. Does that make sense? It should. So I am now rededicating myself to finding a purpose for this blog. It will be intense, whatever it is. It may involve a mime. YOU could very well DIE in the process. But doesn't danger drive people forward? It will be worth it though. If you don't die, I promise you whiter teeth. I promise order, inexpensive mouthwash, and soft bristles! A world where dentists do not use the WRONG TOOL to try to get your braces off, and instead of criticizing the flaws of your dental hygiene and obvious infrequency in flossing, they will see your accomplishments and say, "MY, you have been using VERY effective teeth whitening toothpaste! I like your smile!"

This is my purpose.
I'm done.

Sunday, July 18, 2010

To birthday, or not to birthday.

It is Sunday morning. I woke up today, and for some reason, it dawned on me that I am in a somewhat awkward situation. I think today is a friend of mine's birthday... but am only about 70% sure it is. I have NEVER been able to remember this person's birthday though; this person can attest to that. But now, I think I know why it is so flipping hard to remember EVERY SINGLE YEAR. I have a theory at least.

The theory is this: In the event that his birthday IS indeed today, that would make it exactly one week before MY birthday, and everyone knows, the week before and after your birthday is supposed to be a magical time, one where planets align for your benefit and random people off the streets are supposed to spontaneously hand you money because of the fantastic glow you are exewing from your core. But what happens when someone else encroaches on your alloted time in the stars?

Nothing. Literally. It becomes as if they simply do not exist. Because why should they, THEY are trying to steal the spotlight from the side effects of YOUR birthday. MY birthday. So I unconsciously shun them. This person, in particular. Or at least the fact that he has some right to my spotlight. It is MY glow, I am exewing it for MY benefit, not yours.

I'm just kidding. I'm not that selfish. But it might explain why I subconsciously forget his birthday every year. Sorry about that, friend!

(some time later)

Hmmm....... I just found out that his birthday is not today. It was a week ago. I am awesome.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Look here, not there

Oh my goodness. I can't have that last post be the first post someone sees. They will think I am insane. People, please note, I am not insane. I am actually quite the upstanding citizen. I have never been pulled over. I think that illustrates the extent of my upstandingness.

I did, however, almost hit a bunny today. It was one of the most intense moments I have had in a very long time. I swear though, the little thing wanted to get hit. I was 100% sure I was going to feel the *thump* under the tire, but lucky for it, it never came. I looked back in the mirror to see another car swerving to avoid it. I doubt it survived the day. But I didn't kill it. :)

On another note, Ninja-Mime was born in my thoughts today. Chances are, you will see more of him in the future.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Of Cupcakes and Chickens

A cupcake lies waiting upon the outstretched hand of a young, hungry child. This position of extreme peril, of consumption most certain; has this pastry but a glimmer of hope for reprieve? Or has his judgement been sealed, the tomb already closed, the sepulcher darkened beyond the reach of light?

This sweetly decorated muffin, how has he come to such grim circumstance? Soon to be gnashed into the soggy juices of digestion, does he fear his unavoidable fate?
On comes the mouth, the rising of the world around him. The wind rushes, and the breath of his captor begins to fall upon him. Again, he asks himself, how have I found myself in this most ignominious of states?

He gazes to his side, his right side, and looks upon the fallen and mangled remains of the brothers he had come to know so well before. The placidly cool and confined world where he once lived was truly far different than here. The frosting of the blue cake, with whom he had always taken front position, lay smeared across the face of another screaming child.

The monster. An unthinkable end, he thought, until he realized this same fate was soon to be is own. The child's teeth had come into view; their yellowing jags protruded from the white base, glittering as saliva oozed about them.

It would appear as though I am not his first victim, his thoughts continued. Remnants of green sprinkle could be seen in the far corners of this cave expanding around him. Perhaps the cake that sat to his left? Then again, green sprinkles were quite common among those of his batch. He himself had even acquired one or two.

He was, at this point, more than half way into the child's mouth. Death would soon grip him, and his fear would be no more.

"On the contrary", his mind countered, "what have you to fear in death? Of the great ones, you are none. You were not given the honor of bearing a candle! Your life means nothing, and never, ever, will."

The tongue began to draw near, and his thoughts returned to his own consciousness. I am myself. But what is "myself?" I am cake, obviously. And cake is a mixture of a number of other materials, ingredients, if you will, just as this child (by whom I am about to be consumed) is made up of waters and calciums and other elements of an essential nature. The difference of make-up between this child and I, however, is he is made of living things, whereas I... I am not.

He began, mournfully, to consider those materials with which he had been created. Water, sugar, flower; not remotely alive. Butter and flavorings, ha! They are the cause of the end of lives. He scoured the list from top to bottom, thrice, in his final seconds, but still could not find any alive. Was there one missing? Ah of course, eggs, but they too are of little consequence.

But then began a tickling in the furthest chambers of his mind.

These eggs... what are they? Surely not something alive?

The child's teeth began to sink into his warm frosting, but the cupcake could no longer feel the pain. The tickling inside him began to grow.

Eggs come from chickens... and there is egg in me... am I not just some mutated form of chicken? A positive affirmation bubbled up from the memory of thoughts before.

Such a strange epiphany this was to him, the sudden realization of who he was, IS, and to which potential purposes his life could still very well be destined to entail, that at the dawning of it, that tickling feeling inside expanded tremendously, and before he could even grasp what was happening to him, he had transformed into a full sized, living chicken! To the child's great misfortune, his head was neither big enough, nor strong enough, to take the pressure of containing a very much alive and squawking fowl inside of it, and within a matter of two seconds flat, exploded outright. Every child present, at the expense of the poor child's mother, required years of specialized counseling to overcome this terrible scene to which they all had born witness.


Now, my dear reader, I do suppose, that in spite of the tragic death of this pitiable mother's child, and notwithstanding the traumatization of an uncountable number of other mother's children seen today, you may feel reason for happiness, or perhaps even joy, for coupled with this series of most unfortunate occurrence came the creation of quite the unique creature of life. A bird, who, stretching forth his newfound wings, took augustly to the sky, abandoning all thoughts of his conjuncted life before, and so soared majestically into the oncoming horizon above.

Reader, I beg of you, do not think this thing. Upon the protrusion of this freak mutant of cake, the thing, (for I know not what to call it) flew heavenwards, directly into the family's newly installed industrial strength ceiling fan, and was promptly and effectively beheaded thereby. Perhaps as a fulfillment of justice, or perhaps the last of a series of cruel jokes conceived by the deceiver, the chicken was immediately plucked, gutted, and eaten raw by the then incommunicable party. The reason for this gorish turn, researchers have yet to determine.

All cravings for death quite satisfied, the scene ends abruptly, and the mother takes them all out for a dollop of ice cream.

You now know the story
of the cupcake
that became a chicken.

The End

Saturday, July 10, 2010

A "Burning Bush" Moment

Today, at approximately 10:25 PM, I left my temporary abode (because where I sleep at the moment is NOT in any way my home... maybe I'll go into details later. Maybe not.) and walked through the dark to Target, my current place of work. For about an hour beforehand, I had been contemplating my life, and realized that my life, where it stands as of now, is really rather dull, and is lacking in any form of excitement outside of my imagination. I mean, I do make attempts at making my life at least a little bit less dull than it is... I go for walks, for example. I dress nicely, go to big scenic lakes and sit on the bench and read for a few hours. That does, admittedly, boost my sophistication rating quite a few points... but really... I am sitting on a bench, staring at what used to be a tree. How much more exciting is that than staring at a rock? Not only is my life boring, it is lacking a certain... flare. The shapow! factor, if you will. I thought of some possibilities.

A good friend of mine once brought the fact to my attention that the world of adventure is all but dead, in every place except for Africa. Africa! My mind raced around this idea for a few minutes. A land of lions! Where zebras run free through the markets, daring children to jump from rooftops onto their backs and ride out into the great unknown; a place of danger, where swords are ones greatest ally, and all others could very well be tomorrow's greatest enemies. Feel the electricity? It is there, and he made me realize it.

I had something of an epiphany today. Life is pulling me down a rut; granted, it is a successful rut, but a rut run by almost all in my droplet of life.

Isn't there more? I don't want this rut. I want to see Africa. And not just Africa. I want to see Israel. And Tanzania. Possibly the moon. And I want to do all of this while also completing school, so I can satisfy my need to feel like I am succeeding in the other "necessary" rut I need to be in.

Holy goodness, I am way off track. In any case, you now know what my state of mind was as I began the 5 minute walk to my work. I trudge along, and post this on my wall on facebook: "It is painful how unimportant my job is to the world." I work at freaking Target. Not only that, but I work a night shift, in the back, speaking to absolutely nobody (quite literally, as they all speak Spanish, and I do not). And what do I do for the world? I make sure the daytime Target workers have an easier time finding things the customers need. I am pretty sure the job was created for the sole purpose of giving people who only speak Spanish a place to start, so they can find their footing in this great American dream of ours. Good for them. But... why do I have this job? How is this helping me, or ANYONE else, anywhere? I felt quite depressed about this. By now I had reached the Target parking lot.

Suddenly, smoke. Rising from the bushes. THE PARKING LOT WAS CATCHING ON FIRE. What the CRAP?? I think to myself. FIRE!!! I SEE THE RED INSIDE THE BUSHES GETTING BIGGER! I ran to the scene, and realized I had a water bottle inside my backpack. "But its my water..." says a small voice in the back of my mind. But no. It was a sacrifice that I was willing to make. I mean, come on. The parking lot was on fire. I strategically pored out my water onto the flames, dousing them in the liquid goodness I was supposed to enjoy. The majority of the flames were out, when out of nowhere, my water bottle ran out of water. But you see.. the MAJORITY of the flames being out just doesn't quite cut it. (I am now late for work, by the way.) I ran to the entrance, and found a couple of people waiting outside for the door to be opened. In a state of slight panic (FLAMES!!!!) and mostly controlled urgency, I said to them "Do you have any water? THE BUSH IN THE PARKING LOT IS ON FIRE!!!"

Now, this is the part that I really do not understand. Has fire become less scary, or even less awesome in the last couple of years? After announcing this to the small group of bystanders, they all stare at me and are like, "oh.... where?" I point to where.. but then realize: I put out a lot of the fire. Therefore, there is almost no smoke anymore. So I am yelling about a fire that they cannot see. So I explain, "I put out MOST of it, but we need more water to put out the REST of it!"

Again, blank stares. I was quite frustrated. Then, luckily for the parking lot, the manager finally comes and opens the door. As calmly as I can (fighting against the adrenaline surging through my veins) I try to explain the situation. "FIRE IN PARKINGLOTBUSH! (deep breath.) I am going to go get water to try and try to put it out." Again, the believe-me-its-there-you-just-can't-see-it-yet routine. I go refill my water bottle, and go back outside. Finally, the fire summons enough heat to create visible smoke, and manager lady says, "ooooooooh I see it."

I ask once again... If the parking lot is on fire, do you say, "oooooh the parking lot is on fire..."? Maybe I am wrong here.. but I really am not feeling enough emotion there. She should have been like, "OMG THE PARKING LOT IS ON FIRE!" and called the fire department. Instead, after her, "oooooooh I see it" she says, "Go with this person and look at it."

Whatever. In any case, after I dumped two water bottles worth of water on the bush, the fire department was eventually called, and I received zero recognition for my heroic bravery in saving the bush and the world.

Now, to connect my two thoughts I have talked about today. I am not a crazy person who just randomly jumps from topic to topic at random whenever I so choose. (Actually I am. But not today.) Saving that bush and putting out that fire gave me more satisfaction in 10 minutes than I have ever gotten with... more than 80 hours of work at Target. And after thinking about all that I had today... I knew it was a sign from God. It was my burning bush. I need to do something amazing, and soon. And even if it wasn't a sign from God himself, maybe it is still a plain-old good idea.

I am going to do something amazing.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Blog the first, and my uncomfortable and awkward attempt at explaining why I would ever do such a thing.

I am inspired.
I am very tired.
It is 1:00 AM,
and I am here.
I believe celebration is in order. You get to read my thoughts now, as often as I want to share them.
Really though people. In all honesty, I have been wanting to do this for over a week now. I realized that facebook just doesn't satisfy my needs to digress on random topics of extreme pertinence to my life (and yours), due to the fact that posting 10 status updates in one day is highly frowned upon, for some reason. I thought that twitter could be my solution. But does anyone else use Twitter? No! Not one person I know actually tweets. So now I use Twitter as my cellular on-the-go msnbc headline resource for late breaking news, and finding out when and where earthquakes have occurred throughout the world. But yes. You see my dilemma. I am like a mime, mute, and trapped in an imaginary box, incapable of releasing my thoughts into the world like a mime, mute, and trapped in an imaginary box.
Its not a good thing.
It is an unhealthy thing.
Thus: Incredulicity.