I have this assumption that there is everyone says little things only they know about. Naturally, I have no idea what everyone eles' little words are. However I do know mine and I thought perhaps I would share them with you.
1) Naturally. One of the best comedian routines of all time has been a favorite of mine since I was little. Abbot and Costello did a gig called "Who's on First" and 'naturally' was something they said a lot. Ever since I first watched that wonderful skit, Ive found many perfect moments to say 'naturally.'
2) "Ill send you right over". I work in phone based customer service department and many days it requires that I transfer phone calls to other areas. As if Red Rover eternally needs me to send that game some shout outs, I always say things like "Ill send you right over" or "Ill send them right over." Right is always in that phrase. Its just not the same without it.
So what are your secret words?
Monday, January 24, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Harvey's Freedom
Two years ago, one of my goals was to watch all the top 100 movies as if it would secretly make me more cultured or some such. I added them all to my Netflix until I found myself with an obnoxious amount of movies to watch. It was a daunting task, one I found eventually wore me out and I stopped watching them. Some of the old old ones are just boring. Do not judge me!
So since my raise, i got my Netflix back and that entire que of things is all still there. So Ive been working through the movies. I feel like its a job almost. Like I have to watch each of these and take the culture from it because if I do not, some future generation will loose out on something.
So this morning before church I decided to watch Harvey. Yesterday I watched the Pride of the Yankees. Both movies have shifted something fundamental in me. I found that in both movies, the main character was simply joyful. Despite his struggles or his circumstances, he was happy and gracious and kind, thoughtful. I found myself wanting to be like both of them and suddenly, in the fuzzy black and white images of this man and his pretend rabbit, I saw an honest reflection of myself.
Work is hard, money is tight, too much to too, too little vacation. There were so many complaints I use to fill my time. Perhaps I had missed it all along.
The main character said something that struck me. "My mother always said you can be smart or you can be pleasant. I was smart for a long time. I much prefer pleasant." Its such a new motto for me, I am tempted to tattoo it on my forehead.
Ive found sometimes we get so full of life, so stuck in the brush strokes and where they land that we forget how lucky we are to a painter.
So since its January, might as well decide that this year is going to be about pleasant. Sure smart is good and all, but I think I prefer pleasant as well. Its freeing really, like I can fly. (get it? the stingray looks like hes flying in water?)
So since my raise, i got my Netflix back and that entire que of things is all still there. So Ive been working through the movies. I feel like its a job almost. Like I have to watch each of these and take the culture from it because if I do not, some future generation will loose out on something.
So this morning before church I decided to watch Harvey. Yesterday I watched the Pride of the Yankees. Both movies have shifted something fundamental in me. I found that in both movies, the main character was simply joyful. Despite his struggles or his circumstances, he was happy and gracious and kind, thoughtful. I found myself wanting to be like both of them and suddenly, in the fuzzy black and white images of this man and his pretend rabbit, I saw an honest reflection of myself.
Work is hard, money is tight, too much to too, too little vacation. There were so many complaints I use to fill my time. Perhaps I had missed it all along.
The main character said something that struck me. "My mother always said you can be smart or you can be pleasant. I was smart for a long time. I much prefer pleasant." Its such a new motto for me, I am tempted to tattoo it on my forehead.
Ive found sometimes we get so full of life, so stuck in the brush strokes and where they land that we forget how lucky we are to a painter.
So since its January, might as well decide that this year is going to be about pleasant. Sure smart is good and all, but I think I prefer pleasant as well. Its freeing really, like I can fly. (get it? the stingray looks like hes flying in water?)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Confessions of a Free Bird FAIL
Yes, this picture is not a bird. I forgot I got bird pictures for this segment. My intent is to talk about orange juice and oddly enough, my brother does not take pictures of oranges very often. If he does, he does not post them on this Flickr.
Anyways, I had this roommate once. We shall call her The Italian. She was a very fun person to live with and together, we did a lot of group activities with the club we were very active in.
There was a time when the person in charge of our little bonding session asked this question: If you were a beverage, what would you be and what is the one characteristic you associate with that beverage?
The Italians response (literally, I remember this): Uhm... I want to say orange juice because its my favorite, but the only characteristic I can think of about it is 'phlegm inducing' and I do not think I'm phlegm inducing.
I do not remember the rest of the her answer. It did not even really matter. But she had a point. Orange juice is phlegm inducing. Therefore, I drink mine watered down. I find the flavor still full and yet, not nearly so phlegmy. Theres my confession... my orange juice preference.
Anyways, I had this roommate once. We shall call her The Italian. She was a very fun person to live with and together, we did a lot of group activities with the club we were very active in.
There was a time when the person in charge of our little bonding session asked this question: If you were a beverage, what would you be and what is the one characteristic you associate with that beverage?
The Italians response (literally, I remember this): Uhm... I want to say orange juice because its my favorite, but the only characteristic I can think of about it is 'phlegm inducing' and I do not think I'm phlegm inducing.
I do not remember the rest of the her answer. It did not even really matter. But she had a point. Orange juice is phlegm inducing. Therefore, I drink mine watered down. I find the flavor still full and yet, not nearly so phlegmy. Theres my confession... my orange juice preference.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Lessons from the Hounds
Today, when waiting for the snow to come, I decided to sit on the couch and read. Not the Basset Hounds know they are invited to sit on the couch if I let them and they are all about climbing up on my lap until I yell at them. Eventually they settle down next to me.
So there they were, Bertha right next to me, as she always fights to be, and Clarence between her and the edge of the couch. I was reading but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clarence stand as if he wanted to face the other way. Naturally, the lack of space made his desire to turn around a rather daunting task.
Bertha was sleeping and seemed not to even notice when he began to turn. Thats when something magical happened. Clarence actually sat on Bertha half way thru his turn. He used the moment of sitting on her head to regain his balance and continue his turn. I watched in amazement as she just opened one eye and seemed rather un-phased the the overly lengthy dog had his duck-us perched on her head.
It got me thinking. Are we the type of people willing to let our friend sit on our heads if they need to? Do we meet such a predicament with patience and understanding or do we snap and whine about it?
What kind of friend are you?
I like to think I'm a Bertha, that I let someone sit on me when they need to turn, but sometimes I'm not. Sometimes, when it matters most, I refuse to be a Bertha. I'm not sure what the difference is, but perhaps I should try a little bit harder to not have too much pride to be sat on.
So there they were, Bertha right next to me, as she always fights to be, and Clarence between her and the edge of the couch. I was reading but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clarence stand as if he wanted to face the other way. Naturally, the lack of space made his desire to turn around a rather daunting task.
Bertha was sleeping and seemed not to even notice when he began to turn. Thats when something magical happened. Clarence actually sat on Bertha half way thru his turn. He used the moment of sitting on her head to regain his balance and continue his turn. I watched in amazement as she just opened one eye and seemed rather un-phased the the overly lengthy dog had his duck-us perched on her head.
It got me thinking. Are we the type of people willing to let our friend sit on our heads if they need to? Do we meet such a predicament with patience and understanding or do we snap and whine about it?
What kind of friend are you?
I like to think I'm a Bertha, that I let someone sit on me when they need to turn, but sometimes I'm not. Sometimes, when it matters most, I refuse to be a Bertha. I'm not sure what the difference is, but perhaps I should try a little bit harder to not have too much pride to be sat on.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Confessions of a Free Bird 2
I watched this movie once where a princess took a bath in this water that was milky white. Being young when I saw it, I decided that it was a mark of a princess to take baths where the water was so milky, you could not see your flesh. In the years since, I have discovered that Irish Spring soap does really well for making the water cloudy, but not milky. So I spent many a bath trying to use enough soap to create the desired effect, sorry mom.
Well tonight during my bath, I realized I am apparently pale enough to almost hide in the cloudy bath water and while completely immersing myself in the illusion that I am a princess, my dogs came in and stood a safe distance away from the tub to look at me with those droopy eyes. (They've learned I have a thing for spontaneously bathing them so they try to stay away from the tub)
My response to their questioning gazes: Be gone you servants. I have no need of your services this eve and I dare say you hamper my relaxation with your mere presence. Now shoo before I demand you beheaded for your disobedience!
I don't think they understood I was a princess at the time.
Well tonight during my bath, I realized I am apparently pale enough to almost hide in the cloudy bath water and while completely immersing myself in the illusion that I am a princess, my dogs came in and stood a safe distance away from the tub to look at me with those droopy eyes. (They've learned I have a thing for spontaneously bathing them so they try to stay away from the tub)
My response to their questioning gazes: Be gone you servants. I have no need of your services this eve and I dare say you hamper my relaxation with your mere presence. Now shoo before I demand you beheaded for your disobedience!
I don't think they understood I was a princess at the time.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Confessions of a Free Bird 1
When I am alone in an elevator, I march in and then spin, facing the front again and clasp my hands behind my back right as the door slides closed as if I were leaving the bridge on Star Trek.
2010 Sunset
Sunsets mark the end; the flourishing finish; the passing of another day. 2010 had a glorious sunset, so I hear. I was napping during the ringing in of the new year. Perhaps I should have been awake, but when you are sleeping, you are just sleeping and there is no stopping the sleepies, as we all know.
The reality of it did not hit home until I realize this morning that, two days in a row now, I have worn matching socks. Yes, you read that right... matching. socks.
Well I suppose there could be worse things. But I did want to let you know my New Year’s resolutions this year are different. In fact I only have one:
My New Year’s resolution is to be. I resolve that for this year, I will exist and do so with gusto. I resolve to exist at the full potential of me and make it a habit to do so.
What are your resolutions?
The reality of it did not hit home until I realize this morning that, two days in a row now, I have worn matching socks. Yes, you read that right... matching. socks.
Well I suppose there could be worse things. But I did want to let you know my New Year’s resolutions this year are different. In fact I only have one:
My New Year’s resolution is to be. I resolve that for this year, I will exist and do so with gusto. I resolve to exist at the full potential of me and make it a habit to do so.
What are your resolutions?
Monday, January 3, 2011
Thar she blows!
What if I am alone until I shrivel up and die and painfully alone death? What if I find some awesome hot guy and we die two seconds later. What if I already walked past him and my head was in the clouds? More than that, what if I drowned in this sea of what ifs? What if I spend so much time wondering that I never wake up tomorrow morning.
Speaking of sleeping, I had the craziest dream the other night. Literally some guy had hurt my friend and you can ask bro, that gets me in the fighting spirit so I was chasing after him promising lots of pain. And his only escape was to start climbing this ladder thingie, more like a fire escape or scaffolding really, and so I started climbing after him.
Then when we were pretty high and he was running out of room, he turned towards me and pointed a gun straight at my face. Now I am really ashamed to say this, but immediately I started begging for my life. I wussed out really. I would put a worse word there, by my mom reads this. It is so embarrassing. I begged for my life. I mean if the dude has a gun straight at your face in a dream, Chuck Norris it up, do not BEG.
Ug, such a horrible dream. Anyways, in the end he shot me, my superman like right pointer finger blocked the bullet. I lost a finger in that dream, but as I was falling backwards, probably to my death, I was just staring at the chunk taken out of my finger thinking, 'he shot my pointer finger off!'
And then I woke up. The dogs did not appreciate the drama. Neither did I really.
So I suppose there are more important things then what-ifs. I mean, when it all comes down to it, I still have my right pointer finger, right?
Speaking of sleeping, I had the craziest dream the other night. Literally some guy had hurt my friend and you can ask bro, that gets me in the fighting spirit so I was chasing after him promising lots of pain. And his only escape was to start climbing this ladder thingie, more like a fire escape or scaffolding really, and so I started climbing after him.
Then when we were pretty high and he was running out of room, he turned towards me and pointed a gun straight at my face. Now I am really ashamed to say this, but immediately I started begging for my life. I wussed out really. I would put a worse word there, by my mom reads this. It is so embarrassing. I begged for my life. I mean if the dude has a gun straight at your face in a dream, Chuck Norris it up, do not BEG.
Ug, such a horrible dream. Anyways, in the end he shot me, my superman like right pointer finger blocked the bullet. I lost a finger in that dream, but as I was falling backwards, probably to my death, I was just staring at the chunk taken out of my finger thinking, 'he shot my pointer finger off!'
And then I woke up. The dogs did not appreciate the drama. Neither did I really.
So I suppose there are more important things then what-ifs. I mean, when it all comes down to it, I still have my right pointer finger, right?
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