Babbling 4

Happy Friday my lovely loyalists!



I do so hope the rest of your day goes swimmingly well. :)

Bach to Barth

Thursdays would be more fun if I had a lisp.

So right now I'm listening to "Hosanna in Excelsis" sung by Placido Domingo. It's part of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem. It's absolutely incredible. It's one of those songs that makes me want to put my ear onto the speaker and stuff a pillow into the other one so I can be totally absorbed into the sound.
The SOUND.
That's the most phenomenal word, don't you think? Is there anything intangible that you wish were a physical object?
It's one of those words that I wish I was able to feel. I would love to experience it in my bones and in the pores of my skin.
I wish I could wrap myself up in it like a blanket, or jump into it like water, or squish it through my fingers like clay on a pottery wheel.
Can you imagine feeling music bubbles floating and dancing over your skin? Or resting on your eyelashes? And moving like invisible fingers in your hair?
I can.
And it makes me want to grin and run and twirl and split open from the inside all at the same time.
Like there's just too much going on in my brain to possibly be contained within several plates of bone.
I will be so exceptionally excited to meet Jesus. Let me explain.
There is a lot of crap down here on Earth. A LOT of crap. There's too much to mention, really.
If I were to begin listing the amount of people in pain, or lost without homes, or jobs, or families, or the people who need medical care and don't have it, or those who don't have clean water or the elderly who just want someone to talk to it would overwhelm me and make me cry. I can't watch the news because I get overburdened with other people's sorrow. There is SO much pain and anger and devastation out there.
BUT.
Then there's Placido Domingo. And Andrew Lloyd Webber's Requiem. And Beethoven's 9th Symphony.
The Grand Canyon. Niagara Falls. The White Cliffs of Dover. Sunsets in Maui. The Great Barrier Reef. The Pyramids in Egypt, the Great Wall of China, Hagia Sophia, the Roman Colosseum, Machu Picchu, the Aurora Borealis.
BABIES.
Holy crap!
Have you ever stopped to look at the leaves in the fall? Have you ever noticed that time and color don't coincide? When you're lost in the brilliance of autumn, even when it's the linear change that has brought the leaf to your attention, time loses all meaning. It's the COLOR that wins.
Maybe I'm feeling a bit ramble-y. But I'm just in awe today. Of the amount of AMAZING that exists. There's so much wonder in the midst of so much woe. The key is to look for it. And Jesus made all of it. And today it's only a shadow of what it was supposed to be.
I promised you I'd wax philosophical several weeks ago.
So how'd I do? :)

Benign musings

Welcome to Wednesday!
Sorry about yesterday's posting. I looked back at it and realized it was slightly grumpy. I'll try and do better today. :)

So I was thinking about math just now. Why, you ask? Is it because I like math?
AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA.
*ahem*
No, it is not because I like math.
It's because of television.
Let me explain.
There's this show I like called How I Met Your Mother. It's exceptionally funny. The kind of funny that makes you want to watch it over and over, even when you know the episode by heart and don't necessarily have to be sitting in the same room to know what's going on.
But like most TV shows nowadays the characters are all relatively promiscuous. (That makes me sound SO old, doesn't it? And like I should be wearing a bun and a broom skirt? But it's totally true. And I happen to wear ankle socks and jeans, thank you very much.)
What was I saying? Oh, math.
So one of the characters is named Barney and he is one of those guys that loves to sleep with a girl once and then never see her again. In one episode he wants this one specific girl to be his 200th conquest. (TWO HUNDRED!! SICK!)
So maybe it's my slightly nerdy nature or the fact that I used to volunteer in a crisis pregnancy center but every time I start thinking about people sleeping around all I can think about are combinations.
Do you remember those? They date back to ancient times when the ancient math people got tired of messing about with numbers and started throwing in letters and other odd symbols. Only this time they said, "Let's make math exciting! Ah hah!! See those?? Exclamation points! That's what math needs! Excitement!"
I don't even remember how they work, but combinations use exclamation points and have to do with calculating enormous numbers based on multiplication.
I've lost you haven't I?
See, I start thinking about Barney and his 200 women. Then I start thinking about those women. If each woman slept with only 1 other man, then Barney has been exposed to 400 people and any possible STDs (and the unholy amount of urinary tract infections these women would be getting - HUGE ouch) with which they might be infected. Now if a woman is open to having a one night stand with a person such as Barney, how likely is it that she's only slept with only one other person?
Enter the exciting math! (Now, like I said, I don't quite remember this stuff. I might be wrong. But I think this is one application.) You can use the factorials (thanks Cheryl!) to calculate just how many STDs Barney would have, or perhaps the probability of which disease he might get from which girl. It's quite an interesting project. Now before you go getting the idea that I actually sit there and DO this kind of thing, let me assure you that I don't. My mind does not automatically perform such complex maneuvers. But it's just fascinating to think about, isn't it? (You're supposed to nod here.)
My brain cannot shut off this fun distraction. It happens when I watch Friends, the Office, How I Met Your Mother, LOST, etc. It doesn't make the show any less enjoyable. So. I guess maybe my calculus professor was correct in telling me that someday I would find myself using calculus in places I didn't expect.
I hate that.

Because I feel like it

Hello my friends.
Sorry it's been a few days. I spent the weekend more or less comatose. It happens.
I was supposed to spend the weekend studying for my microbiology lab final. Well, that was the plan and we all know the old saying: "The best way to make God laugh is to tell Him your plans."
I just had no energy whatsoever.
So I took said lab final today. Damn those fecal coliforms. It's a conspiracy I tell you.
Because of this unfortunate state of affairs I'm not in the best of moods. So I think I shall list several things I don't like. Yes. It sounds therapeutic. A big long list of things that bug me for no particular reason.
Are you ready? Here goes:

1. People who refuse to give up driving 1960s VW vans. You know, the kind with the flannel curtains in the windows that look like they harbor tiny fleas smoking weed. Come on, people. They're not retro cool anymore. They're child-abductor creepy.
2. People with Jesus bumper stickers or the fish symbols who drive like maniacs. You make the rest of us look bad.
3. Tapeworms. Sick. Just Sick.
4. People who leave trash right next to the garbage can. Seriously?
5. Lotion tubes that won't give up the last ounce. I can't throw them away because it would be wasteful. That's why I have 1800 of them on my nightstand.
6. Toe-socks.
7. People who wear toe-socks with flip-flops.
8. Slugs.
9. Coffee. Why does it smell so good and taste so awful?
10. The aforementioned fecal coliforms.
11. Tomatoes
12. Bananas
13. Seafood
14. Barbecue
15. Pecans
16. Any other kind of nut
17. Squash - technically I'm allergic to it. Why does pumpkin pie smell so nice? To taunt me, that's why.
18. Greek food (no offense to my relatives)
19. Hummus (Is that Greek?)
20. The fact that I'd like to be a vegetarian and can't be
21. Snobby people or people who like to brag about their possessions
22. The fact that my medicine makes Diet Coke taste like poop
23. Bad moods
24. Lists
25. The rare diseases that keep sneaking up on me and making my life not as much fun as I'd like it to be.

Babbling 3

Happy Friday my lovelies!
What? It's picture time, you say? You're quite right. So here goes.



P.S. In the few minutes it took for me to fall asleep last night a new poem about a dead giraffe began to percolate in my head. Now I'm not promising anything, but there just might be a future post about him after all...

Blinded by Frost

I remember having to learn Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening and The Road Not Taken (by Robert Frost) while in high school. I liked both of them immensely and still remember little pieces of each one. I'm not a Frost expert by any means, I just loved the way he could take you somewhere by painting pictures with words.
I used to write poetry myself.
It was depressing.
All of it.
And I'd show it to people (I'm not naming names but they know who they are. *twists knife while grinning*) And they'd make fun of it and tease me about a heart made of broken glass, life full of death and despair and being a melodramatic psycho.
This leads me back to the dead giraffe poem. It was humorous. (Oh look! Humour with an extra "u". I suppose I AM meant to live in England someday.)
I find nowadays that I am far more apt to write silly things than sad ones. Maybe it's because I'm happier than I used to be or maybe it's because I simply choose not to dwell in the dark places long enough for the poetry to fully develop in my head.
Recently, however, I haven't been feeling so great. (As I mentioned yesterday.) This is because I have mono. Mono, my dear friend, bites the big one. You can't do a dang thing about it. You just have to wait it out and then hope it never comes back. Because it can. So the tired, sickly, feeling-sorry-for-myself side of me has had the chance to revisit the melancholy pockets in the enormous duffel bag of memories that is my brain.
So I thought I'd share a few of those poems with you.
Feel free to comment, either here or on my Facebook. I like CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I do ask, though, that if you are going to tease or make fun of me that you do it inside your own head. I don't mind at all; my poetry isn't the best and it isn't for everybody. But you don't need to tell me. I'm fine not knowing. Really. I promise. It's cool.

I sing a song of broken dreams
of thoughts that pass away
of midnight moons in barren trees
of wind in lonely reeds.
I sing a song of disrepair
of shadow, dark and deep
of starless nights and cloudy days
of dying autumn leaves.

Ode to a Clarity Rock (For my brother, Danny Harvey)
As smooth as it sounds.
As Black as a careless writer's ink blot
Circles of gold and green and blue
Like a field of wheat in the eagle's eye
And a sapphire sky in summer
As smooth as it sounds.
Cold in the ground, naturally alone
Now warming like clay in the sun
Like skin upon skin
Or cashmere around my neck
Brilliant with potential
As smooth as it sounds.
An oblong miracle of stone emotion
Slippery like time
And as smooth as it sounds.

Bed-ridden 2

I have been informed that I've fallen behind on my blog.
I'm terribly sorry. Really. Very terribly sorry.
I've been feeling rather ickily. Yes, I know that's not a word. You'll just have to deal with it.

Because I'm still not feeling all that well and I can't really think of a lot to tell you (even though I'm incredibly interesting and I'm sure you all miss my rapier wit and astounding ability to turn a phrase) I'm just going to post another funny picture. I'll try and think of something clever to write for tomorrow.
Speaking of which, I promised you a dead giraffe poem a while ago. Well it died a slow death. The poem, not the giraffe. The giraffe was already deceased. I just couldn't make it work. So I'll think of something else. Until tomorrow, underlings. :)