Summary of April

Today is April 30th. Which means that tomorrow is May 1st. Which means that my birthday is in ten days. Which means that I will be fifteen soonish.

Being April 30th today also means that it is the last day of BEDA.* As I said yesterday, I don't really have an fantastic ideas for blogging today. This is my 29th day of blogging in a row, which is quite a feat, in my book. The thing is, I feel like today is special, because it's the last day, and so I don't want to prattle on about something meaningless like I would on any ordinary day. Because today is far from ordinary. Today is extraordinary.

Instead I'm going to recreate some of the blogging tactics I have used this month. Some of which include listing, ranting, rambling and having no idea what I'm doing. Today is going to be a huge wrap up of everything. When I read a book, I like a clean ending, which I what I will TRY and provide here. Screw that, no one likes clean endings; as I have said before, life is MESSY. So scrap that, this blog is going to be as messy as any of my others. I think that's enough of an intro

What I have blogged about in April (A summary of my wonderings):

• Elections, violence and STV
• Birthdays (beachy, liquor filled, and glamourousness)
• Books (my insane* reading list; Jane Eyre, Jane Austen, etc. reading=awesome)
• Road use and the scary thought of driving
• Ranting from the view of random objects
• Promiscuous women and Harry Potter
• Bowling, dishes and noun labels
• Lots of other fun stuff.

One thing that I can really appreciate about this "experience" (I'm really beginning HATE that word) is that I have a lovely record of the things I did and thought about for the month of April 2009. Blogs seem sort of eternal, more so than journals even, and I like the fact that I'm be able to check back and read this in the future.

Which transitions me (a little more smoothly than usual) into my next subject. Time is a peculiar thing. It's so variable and diverse and ever-changing. For instance, it's moving right now. And you can never touch it, or change it, or have more of it. You just take what you get. I think about time a lot. I don't like it when people say something is a "waste of time", because obviously, if it were, the person wouldn't be doing it. Can we really waste something that is never ending? Wasting implies some sort of negativeness. Am I wasting my time right here, blogging? What's the point anyway? What am I getting out of this? 

Are we wasting time all the time, whatever we do? Our lives are centered so much on the future. We go to school so we can get a job, and we work at our job to make money, what are we really trying to do? What is the purpose of us? I used to ask myself that a lot when I was a kid. It's crazy to think of an 8-year-old thinking "why am I here, on this planet?" "what's the point of everything?", but it's true, I was thinking those things.

Blogging every day has become a habit, part of routine and my life. It seems like I've been doing it forever, but it's only been 29 days. It's mind numbing. Sometimes time flies and sometimes it goes so slowly. Does time even exhist? Or is it just now, the present, that ever matters?

I'm going to leave this here, even though time is on my mind still. 

I have no rant. I'm just happy, and anything that is irritating to me write now is either hiding, or just staying out of my way.

Vita's question:

Rena's questions:

Do ninjas have day jobs? What profession are the people you consider to be most ninja-y?

Yes, ninjas have day jobs. Have you ever met one of those people, perhaps in an antique store, that seems to be everywhere are once, watching everything, at the same time? Ninjas are great at their jobs, always on top of everything and able to cope with difficult situations. They're EVERYWHERE! Watching you...

You have one wish. Use it. No wishing for more wishes, no wishing for world peace/cures/end world hunger ect... it's cliche.

I always have the hardest time with wishes. Birthday cakes, those lame-o chain emails (maybe I'll rant about how LAME those are sometimes soon), whatever. I'm a bad wisher. I never know if I should wish for something big (for instance, um, winning the lottery), because I could be wasting it, or for something smaller (ex. that I will find some change on the ground and buy some gum). What's the point of wishing anyway (NOT going to get into that)? I'll wish for... damn it, I can't think of anything I want that doesn't seem too shallow. Okay I'll wish that the goddess of cleaning will be with my this week while my mother and older sister (primary house keepers--that was not meant in any offensive way, btw) go away on vacation. I need you cleaning goddess to guide me safely through this perilous seven days.

QUESTION: What is the weirdest thing you have ever done in public, or alternatively, what is the weirdest thing you have ever seen anyone do in public?

This question was a bit more troubling than the wish question for me. I feel like I never see any extremely insane acts being executed in public. Sure, I sometimes do some dancing to that strange music outside the mall exits, or skip down the road and do that thing where you hit your heels together, but nothing truly drastically odd. From this day on, I vow to do more strange things, to rectify this situation. We need to see more weirdos in public, so that more people will feel comfortable coming out of their shells. I will tell you a funny thing I saw some people  *coughmysisterscough* do in public. My sister's embarrassing story:

One day we were walking home from the mall and we saw a vehicle that looked EXACTLY like our dad's drive down the street. We watched him go and were convinced it was our dad, he was wearing the same sunglasses and everything. So when he pulled into a parking lot we had to go over and say hi. Two people who will not be named ran up to the car and started doing that -gross- thing where you stick your mouth up to the window and blow air, so you look really stupid (I can't really describe it). So there they were, making out with the window and then a second later, they realized that (you guessed it) it WASN'T my dad in the car. It was some random dude who looked exactly like him.

I could stop laughing at them the rest of the way home. The guy in the car had started laughing and then they ran away. I followed, also laughing. It was amazing. 

Oh a quick random thing I did that I just remembered: last October I learned and danced the routine from Micheal Jackson's Thriller video as part of a worldwide effort to break a Guinness World Record in front of city fall. That was pretty exciting.

I will be doing more crazy and public stuff, and will let you know my amazing stories once they have come about.

This is it for April. I'm debating whether I will blog tomorrow. I feel like I shouldn't, because then the significance of BEDA is gone. So I won't. Maybe the next day. 

It isn't really an end. I hope you keep reading this, but I don't really care THAT much. I'll still keep writing, regardless if there's anyone out there who's interested enough to listen to me. I don't blame the people who don't care (although according to the window: hell is waiting for you, sinner). It's been good. I'll "see" you guys around.

*Unless we go with Rena's version of days in April in which tomorrow is the last day, with it being April 31st ;)

Sign Waving

Sign waving makes you feel official. It's not exactly a huge act, but when you're standing out there, holding up your sign and waving at passing vehicles, you kind of feel like part of something. I'm not trying to get all cheesy on you, just stating the facts, something I try to do whenever possible on this blog.

We had a lot of people ignore us, but there were a bunch that waved back and some who honked. The honking is a bit strange, because honking in general sounds like an obnoxious and negative sounds. It's how you let other drivers know to get out of the way. So standing on the sidewalk and being honked at might not seem like the most positive response in the world, but at least it was SOME response.

Sometimes, thought, I have to say it gets a little disappointing. I mean, really, what are the chances that one of the people that saw us is going to actually go to stv.ca and do that research and then possibly vote for BC-STV in the referendum? I don't mean to get all doom and gloom pessimist girl, but sometimes you can't help but let these evil thoughts eat at your brain.

It was still fun thought, regardless of the fact that, at times, we felt like crazy girls holding signs and dancing at the side of the road.

This blog is going to be pretty unexciting from this point on. It took me a while to get this out of my fingers and into the keyboard, and so I'm not really sure where this is going. I couldn't really think of a topic, and so the thought I had a few days ago that I've been getting better at blogging as the months goes on, seems a little silly. But I'm starting to realize something about blogging, and that is that it's not all about what you write about, or how much you write about it, or if you have any witty remarks or anything else. I'm not sure what blogging is about, but I'm trying to think up an answer for that, because tomorrow is the last day of April and thus, BEDA.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do on the blog tomorrow. My buddies are apparently doing something exciting and special, but I can't really think of an idea that sounds good. I still have until tomorrow though, so I may surprise you.

I am going to stop before I start saying goodbye, because I need something to say tomorrow, and it's not really goodbye at all. I'm still going to keep blogging, and April comes around once a year, so with any luck I'll be back here next year, digging up topics daily. Stopping.

The Soothing Answers

Vita, my darling buddy, I enjoyed your blog where you took questions from crazythoughts.com (awesome website) and answered them, so I am doing the same! Yay. Here are the soothing answers to your burning questions...

How come you never see a billboard being put up by the highway? The reason for this is because billboards are put up be invisible super ninjas and they have the art of the billboard change down to such a fast-paced art that they can do it in broad daylight and no one ever notices. Drivers are exceptionally unobservant and won't even notice if a billboard they are looking at magically changes in another. 

Do the English people eat English muffins, or are they just called muffins? For this question, I have a question: in other countries, do Canadians/Americans have a food? Is it McDonald's because that's just sad. Anyway to answer the first question English people don't eat English muffins. They're way to awesome for that.

In some books, why do they have blank pages at the very end? Publishers are very smart people. They realize that not everyone is going to like or agree with the end of a book. So they leave you some blank pages so you can write your own ending. Either that or it's incase the author changes they mind about the end of the both and decides to rewrite it. 

Why do people never say "it's only a game" when they're winning? I have lots of theories about this. You see, humans are naturally competetive. Everyone suffers from this on a scale, some have extreme competetivness others suffer minimally. When we are losing at Monopoly, or Chinese checkers or Sorry (which by the way is a huge oxy-moron), we naturally want to tell ourselves it's not really that bad, sure we're losing, but this has nothing to do with anything, it's just a game. As opposed to accepting the fact that it sucks and you feel really bad at losing. This is also a tactic to try and bring down the winner. By saying "it's only a game", you're telling the winner that it doesn't really matter that they're doing better than you, in the end it doesn't mean anything. Humans are highly capable at lying to ourselves to feel better.

Why do we sing "Rock a bye baby" to lull a baby to sleep when the song is about putting your baby in a tree and letting the wind crash the cradle on the ground? We are sadists who revel in the fact that the baby may dream of crashing to the ground from great heights.

Why does the Easter bunny carry eggs? Rabbits don't lay eggs. Not regular rabits, no. But Easter rabbits are actually magical creatures, and magical creatures do not listen to the regular rules of life. East bunnies do whatever they want. They hop, they hide your eggs, they eat radioactively large carrots. "Rules are for little people", of which group the abnormally large rabbits of Easter do not adhere to.

At a movie theater which arm rest is yours? Both! If you want the armrest you have to fight for it. Either than or half of each is yours and you should promise to share and be a friend.

-----

All this talk of things people didn't know too much about until now got me thinking of the Laundry Fairy. I know you've all thought about those socks that go missing in the wash. I'll let you in on a secret: they don't actually go missing; they get stolen. By the Laundry Fairy. The LF is a very mischeivous and devious fairy not unlike the Tooth Fairy, who teaches kids it's okay to sell body parts. The LF also has a knack for strange collections, instead of teeth she collects socks and leaves change at the bottom of your washer. She enjoys seeing the pain of people trying to match socks are realizing that they are missing too many.

I know what you're thinking: I'm doomed! I'm eventually going to lose all of my socks to this crazy fairy. But fear not, reader, there is a way to thwart the LF. You have to wear mis-matched socks. Dobby the House Elf was a very smart guy, and he was in on this trick. If you wear two different socks the fairy will realize that you don't really care if you're missing one, because you will find a way, regardless. Did you hear that LF? I'm on to you! And I'm teaching everyone else how to deal with your annoying ways too! Take that.

Yes I just sent a message to a fairy. Deal with it and move on.

Election Time(!) and Green Ham

On May 12th in BC we are having a provincial election and referendum. In this referendum the legal voters of BC (the ones who show up anyway) will cast their ballots to decide if we will continue using our old method of voting (commonly known as first past the post) or make the leap to a form of STV (single transferable vote) created especially for BC.

In 2005 BC-STV was proposed to the people of British Columbia and apparently won majorities in 77 out of 79 constituencies. Unfortunately they still did not have the required 60% (only 58%) so it did not get passed.

But we have another chance! I'm not going to try and explain the concept of single transferable vote, because it's a bit involved and I don't completely understand it myself. If you're interested I will direct you to the STV Wikipedia page, which is extremely useful and informative. 

The problem with our current system is that it cheats the voters, makes the government unaccountable and favours parties over people. BC-STV will provide fairer elections, effective representation and a responsive government.

40% of voters can elect 60% of government seats, giving that government 100% of the power. It just doesn't make sense.

How STV works is that there are larger electoral districts and multiple MLAs (Members of Legislative Assembly) per district. On the ballot there will be more names than usual and instead of marking one with a check, you vote for as many as you like using numbers. Your first choice would be one, second two, etc. You get it, because you are a genius.*

Instead of the system working for the government, helping secure party's "safe seats", BC-STV works for the voters, helping them elect a government that they can hold accountable. STV really works, too! People in Ireland love it, despite the fact that their government has asked them to get rid of it. Twice. Ireland turned them down. Twice. It's downright usurious.

I'm telling you, people, STV is the answer to all of our issues. Technically, I'm not eligible to vote, but I will be some day, in three years and thirteen days in fact. Hopefully when I get to the voters booth I will be able to mark my ballot with numbers, not check marks, because it's more efficient and just sensible.

If you live in BC and are of voting eligibility I have a message for you: Choose BC-STV in the referendum on May 12 and power up your vote!

--none exhistant segue--

This is where I answer my buddies question. This is an attempt at "group blogging". This question is from Dr. Rena:

What is the most eventful (scary, exciting, interesting, whatever) breakfast you've ever had?

I have to say, this question kind of puzzled me. At first I couldn't think of any interesting breakfasts. What I came up with was a breakfast of leftovers, some of which included hot dogs/veggie dogs.

This breakfast was eaten at camp. I don't know why I felt the need to explain that because I can't think of any other place where such a breakfast might be eaten. But yes, camp. We had originally planned to eat Eggos, I believe, but we decided that since we had to carry the remaining food all the way back the the car and then use GAS to get it home, thus wasting finite resources, it would be more prudent to just eat whatever we could. We brought out the hot dogs. They were really good. Better than usual, I might even venture. If you've ever had a veggie dog, you'll know that tasting good is not one of their strengths. You really have to mask the lack of good taste in exhorbanent (spl?) amounts of ketchup. That was pretty weird.

After that trip down memory lane (or is it Memory Lane--is that an actual place? Google maps to the rescue... yes! there are 10 Memory Lanes in Google's database and Google knows everything. onwards...) I thought that hot dog breakfast weren't really that exciting. Sure it's a bit odd, but there had to be something else.

I then realized that I had overlooked my spirited parents' attempt at special holidays. The most memorable are Valentine's Day when we ate heart shaped pancakes, dyed pink and St. Patrick's Day when, I believe, my father might have made green eggs and ham.** I must admit that these breakfasts are quite special. Thank you for being such amazing Nerdfighters, parents, before you even knew what you really were. You guys are great.

*Don't laugh, it's true. You need to believe.

**The green eggs and ham are questionable because I don't actually remember the incident. I remember being told that the event had taken place, but this may have been a huge lie, constructed to distract me from something else that might have taken place in my childhood. I may never know the truth. {part of me hopes I never ate green ham, even though Sam-I-Am might find them quite delectable}

Note: All info in this blog comes from www.powerupyourvote.ca and www.stv.ca and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Single_transferable_vote

Mr. Darcy's Mist

It's amazing how when you stay up all night, the day before seems so far away, like another lifetime. When you sleep every night to divide each of Earth's rotations, it gives it a more permanent end to the day, as opposed to staying up all night, when it just feels like the day never ended and this is just a huge run-on. Yesterday seem so far away and yet I remember every bit of my life leading up to it (apart from the hours I slept this morning).

The Nite Hike was illuminating to say a least. I learned a few things. 1. When it starts to get light outside first the sky is a light blue and then when the sun gets higher it turns into a pretty orange-ish colour (quite like the scene in Pride and Prejudice [2007] when Mr. Darcy walks through the mist--*sigh*); 2. there are many phases of staying up all night (denial, confusion, acceptance, exhaustion, extreme giddiness, awakeness); 3. feet can feel like crap on toast (and worse).

Getting in the car to leave, I was already doubting my decision to go in the first place. I was going to stay up all night, walking through the woods? Was I mentally sound? Were any of the voluntary participants? But alas, I got in the car and we drove off, and it wasn't until about 9:30pm that I started to regret it.

First thing after we started walking I remember thinking, whoa we have a lot ahead of us. After an hour it was clear that this was going to be a very long night. Then at about 11:00pm I got all delirious and just laughed at and made fun of everything (there were some zombies involved). After that I got kind of miserable and had to really work at not dropping down on the path and staying there. All I wanted to do was sit by the fire at the break station and drink hot chocolate (with no hot dogs because those close minded boobs didn't bring any veggie dogs), for a little while longer. Unfortunately, no one would oblige me in this wish. Come on, Alex, we have to keep going or we're not going to finish on time.* It was estimated that if we kept up the rate we were going we'd finish the hike at about 4:30 or 5 and we could go home. Which seemed laughable after we'd spent an hour at the Rock Band station (J--we were going backwards from Z to A). At 4am we still had nine stations left to complete.

It was at 5:30am that I finally conceded defeat. I had wanted to go back to the car and leave countless times during the event, but it was after we had walked four kilometres to a station that was packing up (we still had 3 more to go after that) that I finally realized we were not going to finish in time for 6am (or finish all the stations period).

The feeling of disappointment when we realized this was pretty sad. At first we were disbelieving but then we started taking out our anger on the ground. Eventually, we picked ourselves up and walking back and that is another story entirely.

We made it back to the car. Our team finished the hike dead last, which is a pretty spectacular accomplishment, that I think we can all be proud of. At 7am I found my bed and slept for a few hours. All is well.

I think it's pretty fun when people have to describe somethin as an "interesting experience". It basically means that they don't exactly regret doing it, but they don't want to repeat another similar "experience" any time in the near future. This hike qualifies as one such time. I'm not exactly glad I went, but I'm glad I didn't not go, if that makes any sense. I don't know whether or not I'm glad that we didn't quit at 2,3 or 4am (or earlier). It was really pretty to watch the sky change colours and I guess I'm happy that I spent time with Rachel and Brianne on the long walk back the car. However pathetic we were, that was fun. It's hard to explain all the weird feelings to an outsider, so I'm just going to stop.

*Which is pretty ironic. Read on. Or not, because that's silly since it's the end of the blog. 

Messages and Hiking

First of all, I have to tell you a story that will posibly keep me laughing at random times for the rest of my life. Or maybe I won't remember it that long, which is why I need to document it for all of eternity in a blog. So here it is. 

My sisters room is right next to the laundry room, and when you use the drying machine the window fogs up, like in a car when it's cold, so I decided to write a little message.

I started to write 'hello world' with my finger but when I started Rachel scoffed at me. "Hello? That's so generic. Where's your spontenaity?"*

For this reason I changed my simple 'hello' into the slightly more fruitful message "hell is waiting for you, sinner." I thought I was going to die laughing when I recounted the story to Caitlyn. WheneverI think about it, I giggle. 

The best part is that the next time we use the dryer it'll fog up again, but the message will remain like it always does when you write a smiley face on your foggy bathroom mirror. It stays there for a while. 

I can just picture Rachel coming into her room and looking out the window seeing 'hell is waiting for you, sinner'. I'm so hilarious.

Other than that this is going to be a shortish blog. I was going to write about the provincial election that is happening in a few weeks, but I'm going to leave that tomorrow because 1. I'm not feeling particularly interested in writing about the election (and the subject deserves enthusiasum) and 2. I have to go get ready for a hike I am going on tonight that is taking place throughout the night. Yes I will be hiking from 6pm(ish) tonight until 6am tomorrow morning with some breakaging in between and different fun activities.

*I editing what she said a little to make it more dramatic and interesting.

End the Violence

I had this idea about what I would write about this morning and then I read one of my buddies blog which inspired me to continue with it. 

March 8th was International Womens' Day, so I went with my mother and sister to an event with forums and speakers and all kinds of fun stuff. One of the programs available was a seminar by an organization called We Can, that is trying to end all violence against women.* I went into the session and was one of four participants. I'm now going to give you a crash awareness course.

The definition of violence against women is this:

"Violence against women is any act that results in, or is likely to result in, physical, sexual or

psychological harm or suffering, including threats of such acts and coercion or arbitrary

deprivation of liberty, whether in public or private life."

That pretty much sums up the problem. This abuse takes place in many forms, from physical and sexual abuse, to psychological and economic violence.

This violence and abuse takes place for various reasons. Some leading factors include:

• Historically unequal power relations between women and men

• Differentiated socialization of girls and boys

• Women’s unequal access to political, economic and legal sectors

• The use of violent means to resolve interpersonal conflict

• Unequal symbolizations and valuations of women’s and men’s bodies

A main idea that harbours violence against women is the de-humanization of women. In the media, women can be portrayed as objects which indirectly leads to the thought that women are less than human and do not deserve to be treated as equals. 

Violence against women affects more than just the abused and violated woman. The effects are divided into four different categories:

- Individual (the women physical and psychological health are hurt by the action; lowered self esteem, economic dependence and many other effects are possible)

- Family ("Children who experience violence or witness marital violence within the home have a

higher propensity to become violent with others or suffer from violence themselves.")

- Community ("Women's isolation and lack of social support, predict higher rates of violence against women.")

- Society ("The economic costs associated with violence against women are high, included in these costs are: health care, policing, incarceration, intervention, transition houses, diminishe productive capacities, social services, child services, court proceedings and intergenerational effects.")

These are just some of the effects, there are many others which can be found at this website: http://www.wecanbc.ca/index.php

Our society downplays the violence giving it a name (domestic) that claims it is a private, family matter, none of your business, butt out. Women being battered by their husbands are told that they need to stick by him and see the marriage through, by their friends and family. What kind of sick advice is this? Children learn violence is acceptable because their mothers usually do nothing to stop it, mainly because of fear.

"Globally, one in three women has experienced physical or sexual violence or abuse by a male" and yet "In Canada only 30 percent of women who have experienced physical violence and less than 10 percent of women who have experienced sexual violence report these offences to the

police."

Why don't people report it? Because it's seen as shameful, by our society, and sometimes the women won't be believed. Women are scared and chances are, this will keep them from reporting the incident.

Sorry if this has been a bit scatterbrained. It's a huge topic to cover and so I basically just paraphrased and summarized the information that you can find on http://www.wecanbc.ca/index.php . All the quotes and statistics are from there and I strongly encourage checking it out if you're more interested in the topic.

The first step to stopping this problem is raising awareness, so the best thing you can do is get informed and let your friends and family know about this huge violation of human rights. I'm going to stop now, but hopefully this blog has helped someone in some way.

If you are someone you know is experiencing domestic violence you can visit this website: http://www.ndvh.org/ or call this number: 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). 

*One problem I have with this is that it focuses on women exclusively. I understand that women are higher targets for violence but shouldn't we be trying to end violence, period? Why can't we just end violence, for good, for everyone?

Options and Insanity

I started reading Jane Eyre last night. At first I thought my brain was going to explode, and I was sitting there, reading every word at least twice, and still not being able to make sense of them working together as sentences, let alone paragraphs or *gasp* an entire 450 page long novel. It was too much. So I came up with a few possible outcomes for my Jane Eyre reading experience:

1. I could give up while I was ahead. My problem with that option was that was I really ahead if I wasn't making sense of it? And is quitting while you're ahead the best option? Why not pursue whatever you want to quit and then quit when things start to get worse? I don't see the merits of quitting while you're ahead. You might have gone out neatly, but a) life is messy and b) in the end, you still quit where you could have tried. or...
2. I could continue reading. Within this scenario there are two sub-scenarios. The first is that if I perservere and read the words that are not making sense together then I will eventually see the light and leave my state of befuddlement behind or the second (less desirable) option I could eventually lose my sanity* while staring at the page and never truly understand it.

I choose the second option with reservations that if I continued in this state I would look for another option, like an audiobook.

I started reading out loud to myself and luckily the perserverence did not end with my insanity. I realized what was happening in the scene and read a few more chapters. It wasn't what I would call a riveting beginning but it was enough to keep me reading.

On another book reading note I started (and am close to finishing) The Bermudez Triangle last night. The contrast is sharp and startling between my two chosen books at the moment. I seem oddly obsessed with blogging about reading at present. I wonder why that is. Anyway I am thouroughly enjoying The Bermudez Triangle, it's incredibly honest and believable.

**non-exhistant segue**

As a response to a blog I wrote a few days ago called Responding to Insults, I thought up a few more ideas for that particular scenario. I don't know if I would actually be able to fully say these monologues because I might burst out laughing in the middle, but it was entertaining enough to create and imagine in my mind, so I didn't nip it in the bud because of annoying things like reality:

"I can lie: I like your sweater."

"I guess you're missing a filter. But don't feel too bad, or anything, because I hear that there's some people that never fully develop one. You see, it's this part of your brain that, when you're about to say something that could come across as potentially rude, inapropriate, or insulting it says, "hey you might not want to say that because it's kind of spiteful, vindictive and hurtful" and that's the point when you throw away the inclination to say it. I wouldn't worry though, you'll survive without it, the problem is, you might not have many friends. I'd work on practising with the filter thing though."

or option two:

"I can lie: I like your sweater."

"Good one. I could lie about thinking your shirt was nice, but I won't because it might be regarded as mean by some societal codes. I try not to say mean things just for the heck of it, if I can control myself, but I understand that some people aren't as educated in proper social conduct as I am, and I accept that people slip up sometimes. So I won't be too insulted by your attenion seeking comment."

No time to proofread. dftbA.

I'm enjoying these star footnote things. They let me wonder off topic without ruining the flow of the blog.

*Thinking about he lose of sanity really sparked my interest on people we deem to be "insane". I read a book about a kid who got trapped in a pickle barrel (it wasn't about just that, but that's not the point). Anyway while in this barrel this kid, Lief, lost any realization of time or space. He reached a state that I would best describe as enlightened. He didn't need to worry about the future or dwell on past events he just was. He was just happy to be alive and perfectly content doing whatever came next to him. So I was thinking that maybe the people who are "mentally ill" and locked up in asylums and recovery facilities, are really the closests we have (or will) ever seen to enlightenment. Lief was seen as totally crazy by another character, just because he didn't care what happened to him next, he was just content at that moment and that was all that mattered. I dont' really have a conclusion here, but I hope this has given you something to ponder.

Scary Books

Sometimes it sucks that the library only lends out books for three weeks. Because when you're reading list looks like this...

...it can be a little difficult to deal with.

It doesn't seem too much and if it were everything but one it would be no problem, but there sitting on the library shelf all blue, red, pretty and newly recovered by Bloomsbury, was Jane Eyre. I don't know too much about this book, other than that it was written by Charlotte Bronte and in an attempt to include more classic literature into my reading diet, I checked it out.

I know we're not, technically supposed to judge books by their covers, but I am quite a cover-

based reader. I won't read a book just because it has a nice cover (though I have before), but it's the first thing I notice about it, and it can help set it apart on a packed shelf. 

This is why I started reading Pride and Prejudice, as well. I saw it on the shelf and had been meaning to read it so I checked it out, regardless of the fact that we owned a copy at home. The reason for this was because if I got it from the library I was more likely to finished it because I had to return it in three weeks. It was with the same logic in mind I picked out Jane Eyre.

The problem this time is that a whole bunch of books came in at the library for me (when I started BEDA a put a bunch of Maureen Johnson's books on hold). Jane Eyre is a hefty 450 pages, with tiny print, and it takes me a lot longer to read classics, because the style is unfamiliar and it's just hard. So I should be able to read it in time if I read

15 pages a day and renew it twice. Who knows, maybe it'll be extremely gripping like Celia Rees said and I'll devour the entire thing in a week (I'm going to say that's the minimum).

So along with my fifteen pages of Jane Eyre per day, I'm also going to be reading approximately one MJ book per week, so I don't have to renew them. The other books on the shelf (which I will list in a moment) I will get to when I can. I want to read Romeo and Juliet so maybe that will be my next project after Jane Eyre. And the other books in the picture are just their. 

So here is my reading list:

1. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
2. The Bermudez Triangle by Maureen Johnson
3. Devilish by Maureen Johnson
4. The Key to the Golden Firebird, by Maureen Johnson
5. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
6. A Room With a View by E.M. Forester
7. Looking for Alaska by John Green (and too that were recently assigned to me... along with others that I can't remember...)
8. Tithe by Holly Black
9. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke

It's manageable, right?

On another note it's Earth Day today. Feels like any other day, but it isn't. Has anyone read The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss? It's a really great picture book about de-forrestification (spell check?). It's also been banned, which is another good reason to read it.*

*Although once at a book club during Banned Books Week, I saw this book that I was actually glad it had being taken off shelves. It was a picture book that graphically showed a story where a dog bit the hand of a post carrier and dragged them through the mail slot and proceeded to eat the person. It was graphic and disgusting and deeply scarring (there was an illustration of the dog chewing on an eyeball---eew). I'm not a huge fan of censorship but why would anyone write something like that for children in the first place?

The Perils of Driving

My two older sisters (pictured above) are going to learn to drive. This is not a surprise to anyone, but they have picked today to start studying and nine days from now to take the multiple choice quiz that enables you your learner's permit.

About a year or two ago, my oldest sister, Caitlyn, (19) decided she was going to take her test. She studied and took the online practise test and we drove out to the test place and I sat in the car and waited, and she came out and we drove home, learner's permit-less.

The event was unfortunate and slightly disheartening, but we eventually moved on. 

When Caitlyn was studying, I was her major partner. I read the driving book cover to cover and started to pay more attention when in the car with my parents.

People may think it's funny, a 13/14 year old reading the driving handbook, but I thought it was fascinating. Driving a car is spellbinding to me.

There are a few reasons for this.

1. Cars are large vehicles that are capable of causing quite a bit of damage.
2. To drive with other people on the road, you have to put a lot of trust in them to know what they're doing. One person not paying attention can do a lot of damage. You have to have faith in the world.
3. Driving requires constant attention and control. You have to multitask constantly and know how to evaluate situations and execute actions.

All in all, it's enough to terrify anyone. I wasn't too worried about the actual rules (stop signs, turn signals, speed limits-unless I was thinking about others not following those rules properly) just of the theory involved.

More about the trust issue (which was a huge revelation to me when I started learning about driving):

When you get behind a wheel and pull out of your driveway and into traffic, you have to blindly believe in the testing/licensing system, and the other road users out there. One person talking on their cellphone or staring at a person on the street with crazy hair and not at you where they should be looking, can change your life completely, forever. It's scary. 

What always amazes me is the quantity of people on the road. So many people miraculously pass the rather difficult test and then somehow there they are, driving a car. Maybe it's not that difficult to keep your foot on the gas pedal, while looking for hazards and pedestrians and cyclists and then, oh there's a stop sign, and a kid chasing after a ball in front of you car----aaah there's a bus stopped ahead of you. Break, gas, turn signal, windshield wipers, parallel parking, four way stopping, black ice, school zones, it's enough to make anyone crack from all the stress and run away screaming about how they're never going to get in a car again and use their bicycles for the rest of their lives (not that using a bike is bad--on the contrary I'm a huge fan, go green and all that).

Anyway thanks for reading this slightly pointless, confusing, rant on the epic terror of driving. I hope I have not discouraged anyone from anything, that was not my intent, just be careful, please. Good luck on your test, just relax, and remember: you know this stuff. It's not that hard.

** The picture is here because I was reading a blog that said one of the main parts of fantastic blogging was including pictures I decided to look for some that related to my topic. But I quickly gave up and settled on one I look at the beach the other day. I wonder why no one ever told me about this picture business.

Questions and Birthday Rhymes

I woke up this morning and had myself completely convinced that I hadn't blogged yesterday. I was about to start up my computer so I could make up for it by blogging twice today, but then I remembered that I actually had blogged, and I had just suffered from temporary memory loss.

April 20th is today. Or today is April 20th. Either way that is the date. This date means a lot to me. It means 20 days until my birthday (whoop whoop). It's Hitler's birthday, though I only recently learned that. Last and most notable, it is my sister Rachel's birthday.

My two older sisters have birthdays within the same week. Not always the same week exactly, but within seven days of each other. This is kind of frustrating to me. I don't think they have ever had a joint birthday party or anything, but I wish birthdays would be more evenly distributed throughout the year. 

---Non-exhistent segue---

The problem I'm starting to find with blogging every day in April, is that I'm starting to question everything blog related. What's my blogging style? What can I write about? Have I written about that before? Is this entertaining? Does it make sense? Where is it going? What am I doing? Where am I? Have I blogged today?

These are just some of the questions running through my powerful brain. It's enough to give anyway a brain freeze up. The main one I think is have a wrote about this before. For instance I just found my iPod on Saturday that has been MIA since August and I had to check to see if I had written about that yesterday. Not that it's that intriguing but it's a pretty big deal to me. I have taken measures so it will not happen again like naming it (now she), Luna (not after Luna Lovegood, although that works too, but after the moon), because I think she felt a little un-loved before which may have caused her absence. I've also taken to listening to her more than I usually would, because as I see it, I have months and months to make up for of zero listening.

People underestimate teenagers. Younger children too. I'm watching One Tree Hill right now, and Brooke just said something to her foster daughter that makes me kind of angry (if you don't know who these people are, that's okay). She was talking about her romance with this guy who is moving away and asked her and Sam (the foster daughter) to come with him, and she said no. Sam thinks that this is stupid and Brooke should just follow her heart and thus the guy, and Brooke responded that she doesn't expect Sam to understand and that if she were older she would get it.

Which is total -insert word of choice here-. Teenagers are actually capable of more than our culture in general give them credit for. Sure, there are the ones who are all smoking and drinking and all that (don't know too much info on this myself), but there are some that are able to comprehend matter such as the one described.

Yes, there are some times when adults know what they are talking about, and I don't think Brooke should be forced into choosing how everyone else thinks she should, but it's still a pretty low blow for her to use the 'I don't expect for you to understand' tactic.

That's all for tonight. It has been a long day filled with gelato and beaches and delicious cheese cake. Happy birthday to you Rachel, I hope you enjoy your Jelly Bellys and that you have a wondrous year. A poem anyone?

For Rachel

Your cheerfulness scares me,

Your hair is real cute,

When we laugh together,

I have such a hoot,

Your great schemes are fascinating,

They've all been debated,

Other than by blood,

To you I am not related

Love you a ton, no more fun. (Or rhymes for that matter)

Glamour and Zodiac Compatibility

I don't usually write about my life in my blog. At least I don't think I do. I mean there are tidbits and particles and sometimes something about what's happening right now. But I usually just write about past events and whatever I'm thinking about, because that seems a tad more interesting than my actual life.

Don't get me wrong, my life is awesome. I enjoy it and all. It's very exciting, but I'm not exactly sure how to transfer that into blog, so I mostly just stick with odd wonderings. My life is one of those 'you had to be there' things.

Sometimes though, there are things so exciting, fabulous and glamorous that I have to document them. Birthdays, are a specific event that may fall into this category (ex. when I wrote about Caitlyn's amazing 19th birthday), but these occasions, though I wouldn't say rare are relatively few.

Why am I bringing this up now, you may ask. I will tell you why: last night was one of those such events that is noteworthy enough to take the energy to explain. Here it goes.

My friend, Jessica, is turning sixteen on Wednesday. For some reason, in our culture, we sometimes make a big deal out of the sixteenth year. Sweet Sixteen, and all that nonsense. I don't know why this exact year, perhaps because in some places you get to drive a car, or just because we can. Regardless, Jessica's party was to be no exception.

A limo was hired and and twelve (or eleven?) invitees dressed up for the occasion. Now don't get me wrong, limousines are great. They are the height of glamour and elegance, but they also contribute a lot of CO2 to our atmosphere, which is bringing about global warming. Not to get all doom and gloom on the party.

A girl's first limo ride is as exciting as anything. I had, before this occasion, been in a limousine for another party, but this time was different because we dressed up and went to a restaurant. The second limo ride is not as thrilling, though certainly a lot of fun. The novelty, however wears off and then it's just like a party, only moving through the streets.

One of the best parts of limousines, I think, is being seen by people. It wouldn't be quite as fun driving down a deserted road, it's much awesomer to drive through a city and be stared at by passers-by. Hey, you can even wave at them. 

The second exciting part of the evening was the food. I ordered the veggie lasagna, simply because there was no manicotti on the menu. When it arrived I was speechless. I had never seen such cheesiness in my life. Seriously, I wanted to erect a statue in honour of this amazing cheese (in case you hadn't realized I am a huge fan of cheese). It looked so delicious. Eventually I stopped gawked and started eating, and it was just as tasty as it was beautiful.

Beautiful cheese? Yes, and I don't expect anyone to understand it. I am weird. Accept it, and move on.

When we got back to the birthday girl's house at 11:30pm I was, needless to say, pretty tired. It is ladylike and acceptable to be a little weary after such a night as this one. We eventually all dropped of to sleep, and an amazing night ended just like that.

On another note, April is the highest birthday capacity of any month for me. I know of at least nine people who were born in the month of April. It's quite the month for celebration. 

April is the month of Aries and Tauruses. Zodiac-wise, I don't know how compatible I'm supposed to be with either. Being a Taurus myself I'm wondering if I'm compatible with other Tauruses.

On another note how much stock is it worth to put in these types of things? Does it really matter when a person was born? Does that affect the personality of a person or is it just other circumstances. I'm curious about other opinions on this. I'm gone completely off-topic so I'm ending this now. 

Responding to Insults

Sometimes people say mean stuff. I get that. Bads days are all around and foul moods often affect other people. What I don't understand is why.

I'll tell you a story. I won't name names or be biased (if I can manage it). I'll just tell the story like I was standing in the corner of the room watching a scene in a movie.

There was a group of about eight girls sitting at a table. Their ages ranged from 12-14. They were talking and someone brought up the subject of lying. The discussed if ommission was really lying, and how anyone could lie, but it was a different story if they were skilled at it. To emphasize this fact, one girl said, "I can lie, I'll show you." She turned to another girl sitting at the table and said, "I like your sweater."

For a moment, there was silence. But someone broke it and the animated talking resumed once more.

There was one girl at the table that did not join in. She just sat there in silence, struck dumb by the first girl's comment. 

...

The fact that the girl in question (the one with the sweater) couldn't care less what the first girl thought or had to say about her is beside the point. She can't help but wonder why someone would even consider saying something like that. The first moment after the incident she couldn't think of anything at all to say. Imagine it in your mind: someone has just insulted you, right to your face; it might have been meant as a joke but that doesn't change much, and you know that she means what she's is trying to say. What do you do? How do you respond to that?

Eventually this girl is able to feel bad for the girl who insulted her clothing. She can't imagine a situation where she would launch an unprovoked attack on another person like that, and so she settles on pity, because obviously that girl was in need of attention or was insecure herself.

Later she even thinks of something she could have said, if she hadn't been so shocked:

(sarcasm) "That was an excellent example, you sounded so sincere. Thank you, I will cherish your kind words close to my heart, forevermore."

(shock/pity) "I literally cannot believe what I just heard. I am so sorry that you are in a place where you need to take such desperate measures to attract attention. I wish there was someway I could help, please let me know."

(indifference) "It's a good thing it isn't your opinion that matters, then."

The thing is, we're always told what not to do in these situations. The main piece of advice given to us regarding direct(or indirect) insults is don't laugh along and pretend it's funny. That tells the person it's okay. 

No one tells you how to respond. Sure, go tell an adult, they say, but do you really want to go run off and tattle just because someone insulted your sweater? That seems like a pretty lame idea.

Any suggestions? Ideas? Advice? Thoughts? Similar stories? I'd love to hear about it.

Buddies and Fake Alexandras

I got my BEDA buddies!! 

That sounded like they were sent to me in the mail. But no, they weren't. Or you weren't. It just occurred that you're probably reading this now. Hi, welcome to the blog.

For those of you who are not aware of BEDA buddies it was started on Monday... or perhaps Tuesday and is a way for BEDAers (or BEDAzzlers, as I read somewhere) to meet up and make friends and support each other through this perilous journey we have begun.

I signed up and now I have three new friends. Don't you just love friends??

This is where I promote the blogs of my buddies:

Catherine Norris

Dr. Rena

Vita Starr

Okay now that, we got that over with, I will move on.

As I was scrolling down Maureen's blog today (a listing of the buddy assignments) I saw my name. I signed up on the ning as Alexandra M. because:

a) I've been trying to get Alexandra to catch on (not trying very hard, I will give you that) and

b) I wanted to make it easy for people to tell my gender.

See, normally, I'm known as Alex. I like Alex, it short and easy to spell and to the point. There's no extra syllables, there's an alternate spelling (Aleks or Alix), and it starts with an 'A' so alphabetical wise I'm usually called first (unless we're talking last names).

But there's something special about the name Alexandra. It's classy, it's substantial and yes, it's a mouthful but it's a lovely name. Can't you just imagine a Queen Alexandra or Lady Alexandra? What about Queen Alex? It's just not the same.

Changing names is rather difficult to do. It would be easier if I could just pack up my stuff and move, that way I could just introduce myself as Alexandra and everyone would call me that because they wouldn't know any better. Dealing with people you know?? Not as easy.

Even when I meet new people I hesitate introducing myself Alexandra. Because truthfully, it's not my name. A name (as I said in an earlier blog) is a label for a noun. My label is Alex, no matter what is on my birth certificate.

If I really wanted to be called Alexandra, I would put some effort into it, but I guess it's just not meant to be. So I'm going to change my name on the mj ning (if that's even possible).

I wish there was a word count function on these blog things. Not that I'm obsessing with length or anything. I'm totally not. And I'm going to stop right here, just to prove that to you.

I

Don't

Care

About 

Blog 

Length

;)

Cats and Death

Death is scary. And fickle. And questionable. And unknown. Which is scary. (J.K. Rowling/Dumbledore hit that one right on the nose).

Five year olds love to talk about dead pets. At Sparks sometimes pets will come up at circle time and first I'll be talking about my cat and then suddenly one of the girls brings up her cat who was run over my a car. Her father was the driver. That will spark another memory of a hamster that perished or a dog that died a year ago. It's actually quite fascinating to listen to them go on about their pets, because rarely do they want to talk about live pets, no the dead ones are much more interesting. 

Which got me thinking about pets in general. I can't remember too clearly a time when we didn't have pets in our house. I know there was a time, but we got our first cat when I was pretty young.

Napoleon was the best cat for children. He was so tolerant. Living in a house with four young girls can be quite the trial fora  cat. What with all the petting, and pulling and being picked up. But he took it all like a good cat, very calm and hardly ever scratching us. He was great.

I vaguely remember when we first got that beautiful grey and white cat. It was around my dad's birthday and we had somehow convinced him that a great gift would be a pet cat. We'd never had any pets before aside from some goldfish (named Cleopatra and Anthony and Cleopatra II and Anthony II) who didn't last very long. So we drove to the SPCA and left with Napoleon.

I believe one of our foreign exchange students from France, Pauline, named him. She was fan of the human Napoleon (I never got why they called him by his first name... everyone else is known by either their full name or last name. But not Napoleon Bonaparte).

After that came Midnight. I'm not sure how he came about but I think we adopted him. I hope he came with that name, because I'm not a fan of over-used pet names.

I think then we got Josephine (as in Napoleon and ...), who was a kitten and around the same time Raven. This could be wrong as the memories are a little foggy. Raven was quite the opposite of our gentle Napoleon and we soon learned to stay away from him. Far away. He hissed and scratched and was overall unpleasant.

When we left Ontario we left our cats, but we eventually found another one. Or rather, he found us. He followed us home one day, and after we fed him he never left. He never really got an official name. He's had many but usually he's known as The Cat. Right now I'm trying to get Pritty-Kitty to catch on, but I'm not getting much progress.

I could go on, Pritty-Kitty was not the last pet to come into our home but I'll just list the rest because.

1. I haven't done a list in a while,
2. I feel like I may be boring you (not that I care too much about that) and
3. I'm getting a bit on the long side already and I fear if I go on I may lose some of you.

So hear are the rest of the pets in somewhat of a chronological order:

• Maggie, dog, 14 years old, acquired in 2006 (?)
• Geronimo, gerbil, deceased, acquired in 2006 (again, kind of foggy)
• Chai and Mocha, gerbils, deceased, acquired 2007
• Skunk, gerbil, 2 years old, acquired 2007
• Snitzlefritz, gerbil, deceased, acquired 2007 (brother to Skunk) 
• Mimi, rabbit, deceased, aquired 2007
• Caramel, guinea pig, deceased, acquired 2007 (ish)
• Bruce/Troy, fish, deceased, acquired 2007 (ish)
• Fred and George, rabbits, 2 (ish) years old, whereabouts unknown, acquired 2007

If I have forgotten any (which, given the number of pets is likely) then I apologize. No disrespect to the pets, I loved you all, even though Maddy got tired of you all eventually and stopped feeding you.

Oh and if Geronimo's out there somewhere reading this in gerbil heaven or whatever I'm really sorry. We were young and stupid. 

Cougars and Dolphins and Happy Birthdays

Happy birthday to you! 

Happy birthday to you! 

Happy birthday, dear Caitlyn! 

Happy birthday to you.

I dedicate this blog to my oldest sister, who is, as of today, able to legally purchase consume alchohal (here at least). I hope you enjoyed your cake, and just wait until next year, when you turn twenty, because if you thought today was epic, you are going to be shocked and surprised at the next installment (unless you're in China or something, in which case I'll totally send you an e-card). 

Today consisted of about 11 Birthday Insallments, some of which were more exciting than others. Here in list[ish] format are what happenings of this extraordinary day (not all of these includ me):

1. 12:04am: Birthday girl gets to hear the story of her wonderous birth told from the perspective of her incredible mother. Listener discretion is advised.
2. Birthday girl wakes up, and eats pancake breakfast.
   
3. Birthday girl goes to work.  --Work? you may ask. On one's birthday? I asked this question as well.--
4. Birthday girl and 66.6% of her sisters and 100% of her mother went to eat Japanese for lunch. Terriacki, tempura and Californian rolls were enjoyed.
5. Birthday girl purchased alcohal (in the form of peach wine coolers that get worse tasting with every sip. Video footage was taken. Photo ID was perused. Priceless memories were made.
6. Birthday girl and 33.3% of her sisters (this portion being me) participated in timeless North American pastime. You guess it, we went shopping. An insane sale was noticed. Cardigans and incredible pants were bought. Sequened dresses were tried on. Gift cards were given out at Indigo's because it was not open [and they felt sorry for us? I don't really care, I got a free giftcard.
7. Birthday girl and 33.3% of her sisters sat on a terribly pathetic bench, hungry and exposed to the elements, and waited for rescue. Calls were made. Phones were fought over; chase ensued. Video footage was taken. --When our supposed saviors arrived I hid (unsuccessfully) behind a post, to get back at them for being 7 minutes late. This was after I had got of the pathetic bench (who is named Dave and Olaf) and waved at a car that I thought was my mother's. Anyway, they pulled up on the other side of the street and so we crossed over while the car did a u-turn and went to the OTHER side. After sitting on the pahtetic bench for twenty minutes this was too much frusteration to take. Foots were stomped. This was one of the more eventful Installments.
8. Birthday girl and 100% of sisters and 100% of father went to eat greasy food at the beach for dinner. Beers were ordered. Onions rings were eaten. Veggie burgers were eaten. Frys were eaten. Dolphins and chimpanzies were discussed (those over-zealously vicious buggers). English accents were imployed. Props to Planet Earth. You are awesome. Birthday girl is again told the story of her birth but this time from the perspective of her father.
9. Birthday girl opened presents, some of which she purchased herself. One of said gifts was the movie Enchanted which was then viewed.
10. Birthday girl and 100% of sisters and 100% of mother ate chocolate mousse cake which was labourously put together by one dedicated sisters (me). There are no words to describe the taste of this cake. Well no, actually there are a few. But I'll just let you imagine the chocolatey goodness. 
11. Birthday girl rests her head upon her pillow and dreams of cougars in ravines and what a great birthday it was. 

It was a great day as you can imagine. 

A note about that cake: The making of a chocolate mousse cake is something not to be entered into lightly. It takes time and effort and a myriad of ingredients that may require extra effort to proclaim. Multi-tasking is required and the faint-hearted need not apply. Needless to say, the results are more than worth it, so in the end the time was well spent. Here is the recipe. 

Anyway, happy birthday, Cait. I had a lot of fun, even while complaining on the pathetic bench. I hope 19 is just as good as 18 and possibly a little better. I love you oodles, even though you once told me there was cougars in the forest\ravine behind our house and I had a nightmare about it that I will probably always remember.

Worms and Songs Promoting Cannibalism

My idea tree is getting a bit sparse again. Then I went to my Sparks meeting, where I watch five-year-old girls run around and then attempt to teach them songs and games and other nonsense. As you have probably guessed, this has some blog topic potential.

Sparks have a lot of energy. I was thinking about why this could be and couldn't come up with much. There is the fact that they are very small beings and thus the energy that normal people have is doubly strengthened energy inside them. Or they are young and free of worry and thus, have less weighing them down and more energy to bounce up and down and be merry. They seem to feed off each other, as well. If one girl comes to a meeting a litle more excited than usual the other girls will follow her lead and the hour will be a longer one of my day.

Now I could sit here and make more observations about the peculiar nature of the Spark, but I'm not feeling particularly intrigued or inspired so I think I will look for something else. Aha! That book. For those of you who are not currently residing in my mind I'm talking about a workbook called The Write Brain which I believe I got at a writers conference that contains writing exercises to kick start your write brain. 

...

And I can't find anything in said book that I feel like pursuing. What a disappointment, I was really hoping that would work out.

I guess i'll go back to the Sparks. Because I just remembered a juicy tidbit filled with blogging goodness. For me at least.

There's this commonly known Girl Guide song, that isn't in any songbooks (that I know of) and is extremely irritating but somehow also widely known. This song entitled, Hermy the Worm, is narrated by someone who is sitting on a fence post chewing their bubble gum when along comes a worm named Hermy. The narrator seems to know this worm and soon enough they are engaging in a conversation where Hermy admits that he ate his brother/sister/mother/father. You sing the same verse over and over until he has eaten his entire family and then in the last rendition he burps. Terribly clever, isn't it?

Now somehow, this song has traditionally been cherished in the hearts of girls of all ages, despite the fact that it is lame, repetitive and promotes cannibalism. If it were just the first two demerits, I might be able to handle it's absurd popularity, but the fact that it is supposed to be a comical song (with that hilarious burp punchline) that tells girls that it's okay for worms to eat their family members as long as it's funny at the end.

So of course when we are choosing what song we will sing and everyone is putting forward their ideas, someone naturally suggests Hermy the Worm (I have no idea how some of them learned it; older sisters perhaps?). I cannot count the number of times I have explained that I do not endorse songs about cannibalism and that we will not be singing them at Sparks, but they are always so persistent.

The good character trait of the average Spark, though, is that they are easily distracted. I just have to pick the first song that pops into my head and start singing, and soon enough the follow suit and forget about their worm friend for the time being.

The problem is, that I don't exactly know how to finish the song off for good. It's the default in everyone's mind, whenever they think of a campfire. Hermy the Worm, Hermy the Worm! I guess some people don't realize that the song suggests that abusing your siblings and parents (by eating them or other methods) is okay. I know no one is going to go home and take a chomp out of their little brother just because they sang the song, but it plants the SEED. Which is bad. Because cannibalism is wrong. And any song that suggests otherwise is a song that should not be sung by five-year-olds.

A Tall Obsession

It's taken me until 8:00pm to start writing this, which is rather out of character of me. But I really couldn't think of anything to say. It's funny actually because today I found this:

THE RULES OF BLOG EVERY DAY APRIL (BEDA)

1. Blog every day in April. 

THE BLOG EVERY DAY IN APRIL MANIFESTO

I commit to this idea and am determined to create something EVERY DAY in April, including weekends. Every day, I will find something to say. I embrace the reality that there is always something to talk about, if you are willing to take the time to look for it. 

I, Alex McGown, promise to blog every day in April.

In the above Manifesto it says that I will find something to write about every day, because there is always something to be written. A platform to be taken. An opinion to share.

So now that I have officially taken the BEDA oath, I feel the need to write something compelling. Something witty and intriguing. Which is how, sitting at the dinner table, something my mother said brought me to my topic: height!

As a society, we are very obsessed with height. The people in ads, are the people who generally represent us (however poorly they do it) and models are supposed to be tall.

Women wear high heeled shoes, to appear taller (or is there another reason that I'm missing? Because the last time I checked they were dreadfully uncomfortable) and basically we're obsessed with height.

Now, being a tall[ish] person myself I've always thought it strange when people remarked on my height with awe and wonder. Because really, being tall doesn't say anything about you is awesomer then anyone else. Sure, you can reach the top shelf at the grocery store and jump up and hit the ceiling in underground parking garages, but it's nothing to be proud of. It's not like one day I climbed up a huge tower and sat there and watched the world below me, which made me grow inches taller because of my increased perspective on the world. It's nothing as exciting as that. It's just the way I am. I ate my vegetables (most of the time) and here I am. 5'6" (no that's not extraordinarily tall but it's taller than some).

So why are short[er] people jealous at times? Yes, I'm taller than you. Yes, I can see the top of your head. Yes, I keep growing. Do you want an apology? You're not getting one. Just get over it. As I used to say in my younger years:

Cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it. (I was one wise kid, huh?)

And once you have done that you will truly be over it. Because building a bridge is tough stuff. I hear it really builds character. By the time you are finished your bridge I hope you will have moved on from the fact that I am taller than you. It's not that big of a deal. Not trying to minimise your sufferings or anything, but if you have a better explanation for your whining, now would be the time to speak up... I didn't think so.

Another unusually characteristic of this particular blog is that I'm going to end it right here. I'm not going to dig deeper for another topic, or prattle on about something meaningless. As a wise young blogger quoted a few days ago: quality, not quantity. I realize that I have been focusing on the length of my blogs a bit more, but I'm letting that go now. If this is all I have to say, I'm not going to bemoan that fact. I'm going to accept it. This is me accepting it.