Have you ever thought about the future?

I've always been a lover of science fiction, partly because of the insane gadgetry and the awesome action sequences, but mostly because of the futures this genre creates. I wonder if we really will have hover cars and jet packs, a host of alien creatures living along side with us, and hotels in different galaxies in our future.






Will our future be post-apocalyptic and survivalist like The Road, Mad Max, The Stand?

Or will it be techno-junkie galactic industrial like Blade Runner, The Fifth Element, Total Recall?

Or, perhaps, will our future be the same? Will we remain stagnant and unchanging?

And all of this wondering about our future made me wonder about the futures of past generations. Is this, now, what they had planned for their futures? Do we disappoint with our lack of hover cars and alien friends? Or were they able to come to grips with a pragmatic evolution of their society rather than an idealistic one?

Interestingly enough, here's an illustration of what past generations thought the 50's would look like:

Four levels of city? That sounds pretty awesome to me, but, as we all know, it never happened. It still hasn't happened. So what does this mean? Clearly, our foresight needs some work, right? The truth is that society evolves gradually, slowly towards the future. We may never have a hover car in my generation, or the one following, or the generation after that, or so on and so forth. But that shouldn't stop the science fiction future, or even invalidate it. Because maybe we will be eating McDonald's in outer space with our giant alien friends one day. Who knows? That's the great thing about the future. No one has the ability to predict what's going to happen, and that gives us the greatest creative freedom. Time gives us the luxury to construct glorious futures, exciting, other-worldly futures.

And these what-if futures might just be the best thing about our future.

Who knows, really?

-M

The New Trend in Fruit Protection

Have you ever packed a banana for lunch, only to open up your bag four hours later and find a bruised, squishy mess? I know I have. It's sad, because I really do love bananas.

Well no longer! They've now patented and mass produced the....BANANA GUARD!



That's right. Your bananas are locked and loaded.

Oh, and if you happen to be looking for other guards for fruits of various sizes they've got those too. They even have a sandwich guard made of environmentally-friendly plastic!

You can pick up all of this and more at BananaGuard.com


Seriously, who comes up with this stuff?
I'd like to meet them.
-M

The Culture of Fashion

I've never really been much for fashion. Not that I dislike it, or condescend towards those that do love it, I've just always been a "take what's comfy and clean" kind of girl. However, all of this changed when, for the first time in my life, I flipped through some runway show footage of a wonderfully talented designer by the name of Alberta Ferretti. I was immediately taken by the soft night-time hues of chiffon swimming past the models that seemed to float down the runway, weightless and beautiful. The way the designer used shape, color, texture and movement within the pieces made me appreciate fashion as an art form.

     

Designers put (often times) a great deal of thought and abstract meaning into a collection. Fashion is their greatest form of expression and it allows them to make a profound statement about culture masked under a beautiful, wearable work of art. We live in the dreams of these designers, who work for months on end to construct, perhaps, the most incredible lapse of ten minutes the earth has ever seen. They work to see their dreams, if even for the briefest of moments, captured and appreciated.

So, in celebration of these dreams, here's some of my favorite works of art, beginning with the one that started it all, Alberta Ferretti spring 2010.

 Proenza Schouler Fall 2010

Alexander McQueen Spring 2008

 

Oscar De La Renta Spring 2010

Monique Lhuillier Pre-Fall 2010 

Chloe Spring 2011

Emilio Pucci Spring 2011

Alberta Ferretti Spring 2011

 *Sigh* Pretty.

 Happy Holidays.

-M

The Unlived Life

“For some time passes slowly. An hour can seem an eternity. For others, there’s never enough"


One of my favorite books when I was younger was Tuck Everlasting, by Natalie Babbitt. I loved the woodland setting of Treegap: the oak trees and shady brooks and open-air grottoes and wildlife scurrying about the forest floor...and Winnie. I loved Winnie. I was young, and she was the picture of innocence, femininity, life and change. I wanted to be Winnie Foster, who ran barefoot through fields of lilies and wildflowers in a billowy white dress and ribboned straw hat. I was Winnie Foster when I read the book, falling in love with Jesse and struggling with the choice between a natural life and and eternal life.


What's more, though, is how the book affected my outlook on life. One of my favorite quotes in the entire book occurs when Old Tuck paddles down the river with Winnie and talks about the choice between death and immortality.


"Look around you, it’s life. The flowers, and trees, and frogs, it’s all part of the wheel. It’s always changing. It’s always growing. Like you, Winnie, your life is never the same. You were once a child, now you are about to become a woman. One day you’ll grow up. You’ll do something important. You’ll have children maybe, and then one day you’ll go out. Just like the flame of a candle. You’ll make way for new life as a certainty. It’s the natural way of things. And then, there’s us. What we Tucks have, you can’t call it living. We just are. We’re like rocks stuck at the side of the stream."
 "I don’t wanna die, is that wrong?"
He shook his head.
 "No human does, but it’s just part of the wheel, it’s part of being born, you can’t have living, without dying. Don’t be afraid of death, be afraid of the unlived life.”




We are blessed to die and make room for new life; to grow old, to change and grow and develop. We are blessed to die, because it means we lived. What short time we get on this earth is a gift, we can pass through this world and maybe, just maybe, leave something tangible, meaningful in the river as we go out.


To this day I read the book every couple of summers, beginning as school ends and making Winnie's journey through time, living as she lived, if only for a moment in the stream of life.

"Tuck said it to Winnie the summer she turned 15, ‘Do not fear death, but rather the unlived life. You don’t have to live forever, you just have to live. And she did."
-M
 
P.S. For a much more eloquently expressed interpretation of these thoughts, I encourage you to go pick up the book: Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt.

We're all a little quark-y.



Above: artistic representation of a photon spreading through a quark, transferring energy that the quark then uses to replicate itself.



If you've ever opened a chemistry book, or even watched one of those guilty-pleasure apocalyptic conspiracy programs on Discovery Channel, then you know that all living things are composed of atoms, and within these atoms exist a trio of subatomic particles: the negatively charged electrons that orbit in individual pathways around the nucleus that contains the much more dense proton (+) and neutron (~) particles.

"A neutron walks into a bar, walks up to the bartender and orders a drink. The bartender, as the neutron reaches for his wallet, stops  the neutron and says: 'For you, no charge.'"

However, it does not stop there. Recently, in the past 50 years, scientists have been able to identify what are called quarks: infinitely small quanta which are bound by energy and, along with leptons and bosons, create every hadron (or subatomic particle composed of one or more of the three quantae) known to man. There exist, as far as research shows, six types of quarks: up, down, strange, charm, top and bottom. The most common are the up and down quarks, which are found bound together in protons. Quarks are classified according to color, charge, mass and spin, and are never found alone (and, thus, have never been studied outside the limits of the hadrons they compose).


But why is this important? Well, these quantas not only explain atomic matter, but also the energy levels of photons and wave-dualism, fundamental components of relativity that ultimately attempt to explain the vast, complex and unique universal womb we are carried in. Many gravitational and universal theories have been quantified from these discoveries, such as Everett's multi-verse theory (also known as parallel dimensionalism) and, most recently, the universal string theory. Mankind, after centuries of struggling with our identities, is finally on the brink of understanding who we are, and where we come from. And the fact that we can come so close to the meaning of  the true nature of our existence is, in a word, AMAZING.


Of course, there are many other elements to particle physics (heh) and quarks, but for the beginner, I highly recommend Hank Green's (musician, contemporary artisan, and environmental activist) didactic music video, very appropriately titled Strange Charm: A Song About Quarks, to understand the basics of these quark-y particles.

"What did the duck say to the particle physicist?"
"Quark!"
Alright, I admit it, that one was bad.
-M

FAILURE IS FANTASTIC.

Now that is one good alliteration. Did you know that alliterations can significantly improve one's memory(studies showing it reduces reaction time 110 milliseconds from a sentence using no alliteration)? No? Well, here you go:

ALL ALLITERATIONS ARE APPLICABLE AND AWESOME

This post is not about alliterations, though. No, it's about failure, because failure is, in fact, fantastic. Failure humbles and inspires us, challenging to grow and evolve in order prepare ourselves for great success--I'm sure you are already aware of this. What you may not be aware of, though, are the thousands of incredibly talented and successful people who failed A LOT. Michael Jordan, for instance,---he was cut from his high school basketball team. Enrico Caruso's music teacher told him he had no voice and could not sing (his parents wanted him to become an engineer). And let's not even talk about how many times Abraham Lincoln failed before finally becoming the 16th president of the United States. Failure happens to everyone, what matters is whether or not we let it defeat us.

So, let's celebrate the persevering, because they're truly remarkable...and because their failures make us feel better about ourselves.

FAILURES:

Winston Churchill failed sixth grade. He was subsequently defeated in every election for public office until he became Prime Minister at the age of 62. He later wrote, "Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never - in nothing, great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never, Never, Never, Never give up." (his capitals, mind you)


Sigmund Freud was booed from the podium when he first presented his ideas to the scientific community of Europe. He returned to his office and kept on writing.
 
Charles Darwin gave up a medical career and was told by his father, "You care for nothing but shooting, dogs and rat catching." In his autobiography, Darwin wrote, "I was considered by all my masters and my father, a very ordinary boy, rather below the common standard of intellect." Clearly, he evolved.
 
Thomas Edison's teachers said he was "too stupid to learn anything." He was fired from his first two jobs for being "non-productive." As an inventor, Edison made 1,000 unsuccessful attempts at inventing the light bulb. When a reporter asked, "How did it feel to fail 1,000 times?" Edison replied, "I didn’t fail 1,000 times. The light bulb was an invention with 1,000 steps."
 
Albert Einstein did not speak until he was 4-years-old and did not read until he was 7. His parents thought he was "sub-normal," and one of his teachers described him as "mentally slow, unsociable, and adrift forever in foolish dreams." He was expelled from school and was refused admittance to the Zurich Polytechnic School. He did eventually learn to speak and read. Even to do a little math.
 
Louis Pasteur was only a mediocre pupil in undergraduate studies and ranked 15th out of 22 students in chemistry.
 
 Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because "he lacked imagination and had no good ideas." He went bankrupt several times before he built Disneyland. In fact, the proposed park was rejected by the city of Anaheim on the grounds that it would only attract riffraff.
 
After Fred Astaire's first screen test, the memo from the testing director of MGM, dated 1933, read, "Can't act. Can't sing. Slightly bald. Can dance a little."
 
In 1944, Emmeline Snively, director of the Blue Book Modeling Agency, told modeling hopeful Norma Jean Baker, "You'd better learn secretarial work or else get married." I'm sure you know that Norma Jean was Marilyn Monroe.
 
 In 1954, Jimmy Denny, manager of the Grand Ole Opry, fired Elvis Presley after one performance. He told Presley, "You ain't goin' nowhere, son. You ought to go back to drivin' a truck."
 
Beethoven handled the violin awkwardly and preferred playing his own compositions instead of improving his technique. His teacher called him "hopeless as a composer." And, of course, you know that he wrote five of his greatest symphonies while completely deaf.
 
Van Gogh sold only one painting during his life. And this to the sister of one of his friends for 400 francs (approximately $50). This didn't stop him from completing over 800 paintings.
 
 Leo Tolstoy flunked out of college. He was described as both "unable and unwilling to learn."
 
 William Saroyan accumulated more than a thousand rejections before he had his first literary piece published.
(All information taken from: http://www.des.emory.edu/mfp/efficacynotgiveup.html)
 
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
-Marianne Williamson
 
Failure, we salute you.
-M

Marcel the Shell

I take back what I said about Fruit Salad by the Wiggles. Though it is a creative masterpiece, I doubt it comes anywhere near Marcel the Shell. Words cannot explain the genius that went into this. So, because I can offer no better explanation, here it is:



Oh and, by the way, the voice is completely unedited. A wonderful woman out there named Jenny Slate actually sounds like this. Raw talent, baby.

You know what I do for adventure?
I hand glide on a Dorito...
-M

Soap ROCKS.

You know what? I love soap. Really, sometimes I spend hours online looking at soap.

I go to a different bath store every time I visit a mall to smell the soap that they have. Sometimes I go to the same stores and re-smell the soaps.

When asked what I'd like for Christmas I tell people that I want soap. LOTS of soap.

 I am thinking about purchasing a soap-of-the-month-club subscription.

I have a collection of soaps. Soaps that look like rocks, fuchsia soap, soap with flower petals sealed inside, soap with lavender seeds that poke through, soap with oatmeal sprinkled around the edges, sunflower soap, french-clay soap, rosewood soap, ceder soap, rainbow soap....

I'm obsessed. It's bad, I know, but I just can't help myself. Soap is awesome.

And so, to spread the glory of soap, I give you my favorite soap sites:

http://www.soaptopia.com/
http://www.creamerycreek.com/

Go. Look at the soap. Think about the soapy-smells. Laugh at the clever soap names. Compare yourself to the soap: Am I a lavender? Or a sage-bergamont twist? Appreciate each soap's beauty. REVEL in your soap moment. And then do it all over again.

Because I'm not crazy. Soap is great.
-M

Veganism is the modern totalitarian regime.

Just in case you thought you were, you know, free and everything (did you know that most of the freedom you have exists entirely in that 8 pound super-computer sitting atop your shoulders?) Here's something crazy: you're not; vegans rule over all.

And what's more is that vegans have such a firm grip over the masses that the entire population doesn't even know they're being dictated. This prevents revolt because no one is aware of the fact that we need to be liberated.

How do vegans maintain such a stronghold over the nations, you ask? A little something I (and Bryan Lee O'Malley) like to call vegan power.

How does it work? I challenge you to go for a day without any animal products in your diet. Do you start glowing at night? Are you able to defeat Chuck Norris in a sparring match without breaking a sweat? Do force-fields randomly form around you? Do you suddenly become an elitist (symptoms include scoffing at non-vegans and treating them with pompous indifference)? If yes than you, my friend, are experiencing vegan power. Congratulations! You now control all, supreme being!

However, there is one minor catch: the vegan police. That's right. Three spoonfuls of yogurt and you're finished. And rest assured that they're always watching.....

Yes, indeed, vegans have their own legal enforcement. However, you shouldn't let this fool you because, even with those bothersome restrictions (hey, vegans don't like anarchy either), they're still the all-powerful ones.

So, for all you pitiful non-vegans out there, the next time you happen to meet an actual vegan, make sure to stand in awe; ask them about their raw food diet; perform a random chant or blessing; kneel down and kiss their feet....

 Because, hey, they're just better than us.

-M

Disclaimer: I do not personally discriminate against veganism, or any other restrictive diet. I whole-heartedly support those who freely choose (or are mandated by religion) to eat leaves, berries, nuts and dairy-free Mexican hot chocolate snicker doodles- http://theppk.com/blog/2009/09/16/mexican-hot-chocolate-snickerdoodles/ . However, I do reserve the right to sit across from said persons while eating a quarter pound cheeseburger and possibly stealing a snicker doodle.

Why I feel bad for people who host children's network TV:

Have you ever seen that woman in her mid-thirties that appears between commercials on PBS? How terrible must her every day work experience be?

e.g:
"Where's the pink object? Can you spot something pink?"

Chorus of pre-recorded children shouting: 'There, there! The couch!'

"The rug?"

'No, no, the couch!'

"OH, the couch! Yes, the couch IS pink! Very good!"


How fulfilling can it be to do this all day long? Sitting in front of a green screen talking to invisible puppets and smiling like you've been pumped with Prozac?


It always makes me wonder what career these people wanted to have when they were younger. It must be so depressing to know your greatest accomplishment in life is helping kids find a pink couch.


It's the same way I feel about local news anchors and children's christian music composers (if you've ever been to Vacation Bible School, you'll know exactly what I mean). These people do not get payed enough considering the amount of dignity they sacrifice each day.


And because this is not only sad, but also really entertaining I've included what has to be the greatest masterpiece since the Ferbie:





Enjoy.


"Where's the couch?"
'There! There! It's right behind you!'
-M

P.S. Notice the guy in the photo? Look real close....IT'S STEVE! From Blues Clues? With his notepad and big red chair and mail time song? *Sigh* Those were the good days. Now he's a musician. That's right! You can by Blues Clues Steve's album on i-tunes, just look up Steven Burns (and hope he's included a track of the mail time song).

I like beaded platform sandals and celtic music.

I realized the other day that I have some very strange obsessions. Decades, for instance. I like the forties and the fifties with the tailored dress suits, netted hats and black and white social "propriety" videos they used to brainwash the masses. And the nineties, the nineties were great: thigh-high socks with wedge sandals and belly shirts (think Clueless), the health movement, Bill Clinton? All great. Alright, maybe not Bill Clinton.

But my secret decade obsession? The early 2000's. I love the long hippie skirts, the halter midriff tops, the platform beaded sandals, tie-dye pants and hair jewelry. I embrace that sort of tackiness into my life. I desperately want to save up my money to buy a hair crimper. And that orange glitter lipstick? I have 2 tubes. I put it on with my purple feather boa and rock out to Vitamin C.

So in celebration of unconventional obsessions, I decided to list the top fifteen loony loves-of-my-life.

WHY I'M A FREAK:

1. Magnetic notepads with inspirational quotes that you stick on your refrigerator. "A loving heart is the truest wisdom."
2. Scented candles and soap. A couple of hours in the Yankee Candle store is always a good day.
3. Floral things. And sunflowers. I'll buy anything that has sunflowers on it.
4. Folk, Celtic and Mo-town music. Also, foreign pop; it's the same rubbish, just in different languages.
5. Battlestar Galactica and Dr. Who. Science Fiction in general.
6. Things wrapped in newspaper, wax paper, or brown paper. And twine.
7. The Platypus. An animal with webbed feet, fur, a beavers tail and a beak. Enough said.
8. Grocery stores. If I'm ever lost, I'm going to the nearest grocery store I can find. They make me feel safe and happy.
9. Sponge paint.
10. Solitaire. See post below.
11. Office supplies. Especially pencil sharpeners.
12. Mystery novels. Even the bad ones.
13. Small, decorative boxes. I have 4 soap stone boxes that serve absolutely no purpose.
14. Landscape paintings. Yep, I'm talking Thomas Kinkade. I've completed way too many puzzles with my grandmother.
15. Grammatical errors and typos in books or on the T.V. guide. It's like your birthday every time they happen.

Ahhhh. You see, I feel great now. A little self-indulgent blogging always does a person good!

But don't let this stop with office supplies and sponge paint! Let me know what your strangest obsessions are! Yes, that means you, empty electronic void that I send my thoughts to! YOU.

I fear I've taken this too far.


"Love never fails; Character never quits; and with patience and persistence; Dreams do come true."
More wisdom from my freezer.
 -M

The best music videos are told from the perspective of a milk carton.

It's true. Just watch Blur's "Coffee and T.V." and you'll understand. Some of you might remember the 90's band Blur (hugely famous in the U.K. for popularizing the genre of "Brit-pop" and the "Brit-pop wars" it started with rival band Oasis), but for those of you who don't I'll key you in: they're awesome.

Though they were never very popular in the U.S., they were beloved in the U.K. in the early-mid nineties. They did quite well for many years, but in 2002 the band suffered when guitarist Graham Coxon left and they eventually fell off the charts. Damon Albarn held on for a while, but he eventually dropped the band to pursue other endeavors, one of them being the formation of band the "Gorillaz" (sound familiar?)

The band did make strides recently by touring around the U.S., which was quite successful, too. I wouldn't hold my breath for them to reunite any time soon, but at least we have their earlier albums to get us through the pain, right?

The video is just absolutely adorable. How could you not love a milk carton with eyes that big! He's just too cute (and healthy!)

Anyway, here's the video for you to enjoy! And while you're at it, check the rest Blur's singles out!

Just give me coffee and T.V., pleeaaseee...

-M.

I dream in solitaire.

We all have those terrible time-wasters. I, in fact, have many. Blogging being one of them. And now I am using said time-waster to discuss with you another unique time-waster. There's a beautiful symmetry to all of this.


For the past 3 years I have had a closet obsession: online solitaire. It started with the generic prototype solitaire that your computer comes with (just go to your task bar, click start and go to games and you'll discover the wonderment) and slowly branched to more complex types (spider solitaire, casino solitaire, multi-decked, pyramid, Klondike). I am not sure what it is that drives me. There's some strange gear in my mind that connects to my 'happy node' that can only be stimulated by such things. I bet that if you ran a CT scan while I was playing solitaire, you'd see an abnormal amount of dopamine being secreted by my hypothalamus. Why? Something about the order and structure of solitaire pleases the logic-oriented half of my brain. I get a rush for placing things into a systematic order. Red here, then black followed by a 3 of hearts to the top, touch pile, sift, locate needed card, place accordingly....I just love it.


The downside to all of this (besides the amount of valuable time it wastes)? I have begun to dream in solitaire. I'll close my eyes and see that green screen and I'll fall asleep trying to arrange all of the cards. I dream that I am the cards. I dream that I'm a tiny pixel in the computer, having to lift each giant card and move them until I win. Cards shuffle constantly through my brain, like a computer scrolling through thousands of pages of binary code.


Now, seeing as this isn't an entirely normal situation, I decided to do what I love best: research online. I found a great site called Dream Moods that gives insights into all sorts of things having to do with dreams: the importance of dreams, what dreams are, dreams according to age and sex, popular dreams, reoccurring images or sequences of actions in dreams...lots of things. One of the things that struck me was what the site used when offering explanations of what dreams are:


"In our dreams, we can go anywhere, we can be anybody, and we can do anything. When we dream, we are like passengers on a moving train, unable to control our actions and choose surroundings. We let our mind take over. Sometimes, dreams can be understood in the the context of repressed thoughts. Dreaming serves as an outlet for those thoughts and impulses we repress during the day. When we go to sleep at night and slip into our dream state, we feel liberated and behave and act in a manner that we do not allow ourselves in our waking life. "
- Dream Info: Dream Moods Website (Copyright 2000-2009, Dream Moods Inc.)

So my dream liberation is solitaire? This had me extremely concerned for my overall sanity until, however, I read this:


Cards
To dream that you are playing a game of cards, represents your ability to strategize in various areas of your life. In particular, diamonds indicate wealth and materialism, clubs indicate work and industry, hearts indicate happiness in love, and spades indicate troubling times and disappointments. To dream that you are shuffling cards, signifies indecision. You need to reevaluate your choices.
-Dream Bank: Dream Moods Website (Copyright 2000-2009, Dream Moods Inc.)


So perhaps the solitaire dreams are symbolic? Am I indecisive? Should I reevaluate my choices? Am I able to strategize well? Or am I just severely unhinged?


Who knows. I may not have found the answer to my solitaire visions, but I did find lots of interesting information on dreams. I encourage you to check the site out. If you have dreams of falling, chasing or lots of symbols that appear in your dreams, it's a great place to understand the psychology behind everything.


And if you want a taste of the Solitaire insanity, here's some of my favorite online solitaire websites below.


http://worldofsolitaire.com/
http://www.freeplaysolitaire.com/
http://www.solitairecraving.com/
http://www.solitairenetwork.com/


Oh and those Bill Nye playing cards? How many of us had those when we were a kid? I still have mine.


I play solitaire with them while learning about magnetics and other properties of physical science.
-M

Your dentist is probably suicidal.

You know that pseudo-friendly middle aged white man who prods in your mouth with a tiny metal mirror and always seems to have cold hands? He's probably going to hang himself with a noose as soon as you exit his stuffy office. Or at least that's what we've been led to believe.

Dentists' odds of committing suicide are 6.64 times greater than the rest of the working population. Why? Think about it. How many of us actually want to go to the dentist? The pediatrician is okay, because they give you stickers and you're usually too sick to care that they're going to talk to you like you're a seven year old and give you a shot. But the dentist? He/she spends their entire day prodding through your tongue and spit while you're either crying or giving them a look of total grief and hatred. And even when they're not having to deal with emotionally disturbed children who'd love nothing more than to chuck those metal utensils into their eyes (and often try to), they have to endure those looks of haughty arrogance they receive from doctors who, though have not actually spent any more time in medical school or otherwise training for their profession, see dentists as the lowest physician on the totem pole and refuse to give them any respect. After all they are only dealing with your teeth. Who really needs those?

If a dentists' main source of aggravation, however, is indeed the looks of scorn they receive from medical physicians, they'll be happy to know that those doctors are just beneath them with suicide rates, a reported 3 percent of deaths due to suicide come from the medical doctoring profession. If you're going down, bring them down with you, right?

If you're interested in finding more about suicide rates according to profession, there's a great site below where all of the information discussed, and more, can be found.

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/2301/do-dentists-have-the-highest-suicide-rate

And next time you go to see your dentist for your annual cleaning, make sure to give him a big hug.
You know he probably needs one.

-M.

I am a terrible human being, with absolutely no prospects.

The title of the post is supposed to, in some warped way, branch into an apology. I read once that people are more likely to forgive another person when said person apologizes using self deprecating terminology. This gives the other person a since of power, making them feel as if they are orchestrating the entire apology, and then they feel they have things in their control (which is probably why the fight started in the first place, most fights birthed from a power struggle between either opponent); the person feels as if all of their conflicts have been solved and then the object of their frustrations morphs into a sad, sweet martyr who honestly is trying to change. Generally, all of this is a sack of monkeys, because the other person usually is just manipulating them so they won't have to sleep on the couch for another weekend.



With all of that being said, here it goes: I am a lazy, lying, ruthless, evil, and cowardly moron. There. Are you feeling sorry for me now? Really? Good. Because here comes phase two: the explanation.



I know I haven't posted for....well, let's not go there. I could make up some grand excuse that would probably have something to do with not having enough time, being so busy, having a crisis happen, etc, etc. But the fact of the matter is, I'm just incredibly lazy. Really, I am. And since I am this lazy, instead of giving you nice, detailed, easy-to-read paragraphs outlining everything that has changed since the last post, I am going to list it. Hazzah! Listing is fun! Especially for those whose dominate brain hemisphere is the left one!



So here's for all the lefties:



-Finished school
-Tested for higher level of belt in Tae-kwon-do (this I shall not reveal because, while it was indeed higher, it is still embarrassingly low) and succeeded
-Built porches and re shingled roofs in the soup-like weather that Tennessee has to offer
-Realized that art store job did not work with my schedule (I would be gone for 5 weeks total in the summer), found a new job with great hours, nannying the two sweetest children on earth
-Started volunteering and internship at the hospital
-Misunderstood deadlines and information about personal TB tests, so was forced to resign from volunteering and internship at the hospital
-Started the outdoor club, which is still continuing well
-Did not have enough time for art classes, opted instead for a week of class at the local liberal arts college (took a class in acrylics!)
-Read Edgar Sawtelle
-Annotated Edgar Sawtelle
-Chose extended definition essay topic question to revolve around bioethics
-Researched and completed essay
-Took a trip to the mountains of North Carolina (where I found an official illustrated reprint of Clemens' Huckleberry Finn for eight dollars at an antique store)
-Began phone calls for the club I hope to build, 'Urban Artisans'
-Camped
-Got rained out while camping
-Returned home
-Updated blog



There it is. Sad? Perhaps. But it is indeed the truth. I still have the planner. The big, industrial planner. I do recommend planners, by the way, because while my life was going up in shambles, it went so in a very organized chaos. All thanks to my big, black, industrial planner. So three cheers for planners!



Now, I really must be going, because I have a very important appointment that I must keep (seeing the new movie Despicable Me because, yes, I do enjoy family movies and little yellow henchman with large goggles).



I really don't know what more to say. Except, however, that you absolutely MUST visit this blog:



http://utopiamatters.blogspot.com



One of my greatest friend writes it, and she is genius. So go, appreciate!



And please forgive the lazy, festering meatloaf that I am.
Still feeling sorry?
No.
Alright. 
I'll get the sheets.



-M.

HUMBABA

The great guard of the forest in The Epic of Gilgamesh. Yes, he did serve a good many metaphors, and was a formidable opponent to Gilgamesh and Enkidu in all of their manly wonder, but the truth is I just like to say his name. Some words are like this, they just satisfy you when you say them. I encourage you, the next time you happen to be particularly frustrated, to just give 'Bob Saget' a loud yell. Humbaba, however, is not a term to be used when frustrated; Humbaba is to be bellowed, to balloon from the bottoms of your gut and scoop up into the air, sound waving off into an echo as you beat your chest mightily. Humbaba is only used in times of great triumph, or when you simply feel like saying "I am man, hear me roar!"

So what is the meaning of this Humbaba? Where does this beautiful flower of victory root itself?

Well,
It just so happens that I found a job, an internship, affordable art classes and an outdoor club in my area IN THE SAME WEEKEND. How's that for productivity? Mothers everywhere are raising their fists to the air with such a conquest!


I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself.

I actually bought a planner.

A big, thick industrial one. So now I can live as a sensible, organized human, with prospects.

I think I'm most anxious about the art classes. And the job. Money is nice, especially when I'm not wasting it on gum and/or sub sandwiches. Maybe I'll save up enough for a new car. Or perhaps just one of those toasters that make an imprint of the Enterprise or Hello Kitty on your bread.

And not only is it an above-minimum-wage job (sort-of), I also get a great employee discount! And it's an art store! I calculated, and with my hefty benefits, I'll only have to pay $17.85 for my Prismacolors as opposed to the $21.00 I've been shelling out. I knew all of my hard work would be rewarded.


The outdoor club is so convenient too! They meet every Sunday afternoon, which is perfect for my newly blossomed schedule, because I'll have school, my internship, job, and tae-kwon-do throughout the week and my art classes Saturday morning. Which means I'm left with approximately 6 hours of free time! What an abundant life.
 
Really though, I am so thankful for this all. Lady fortune smiled brightly on me, and I am having a hard time not kicking my heels together or doing random jigs in public. Thank the Lord! Humbaba!

And, with all this being said, I must be going now that I actually have to get a good nights sleep. My circadian rhythm is in all sorts of disorder, and I need to fall into a schedule. You know, now that I have a planner and all. I hope everyone is gaining prospects such as I!
We will evolve together.

Humbabas all around!
-M.