We're all mad here!

Seriously folks, why is a raven like a writing desk? I’d really like to know! I’ve exhausted countless hours of my life trying to answer this riddle. Also, what kind/color is this writing desk? (Repeat after me: Vague!)If it were painted black that that could solve everything. If the owner liked using quills, there could be an answer somewhere in that. WHY? Does anybody have an answer?

…I think I’ve gone round the twist!

Anywho, Regardless of whether you find Lewis Carroll charming and delightful or tedious and outdated. (I tend toward the latter; my apologies to Mr. Carroll’s fans.) OR whether or not you enjoyed Tim Berton’s additions to this Victorian fairytale… The Almost Alice album is wondrous, weird, and completely wonderful!

Almost Alice is a multi genre collaborative album with one very special focal point… Alice! Alice in Wonderland is one of those threads that hold all of society together. (And it’s probably a golden thread, like Alice’s hair.) So, no wonder so many artists wanted to be a part of this project. Personal Opinion: I give it two thumbs up!

The following is one of my very favorite tracks!

"What matters it how far we go?"
His scaly friend replied,
"There is another shore, you know,
Upon the other side.
The further off from England
The nearer is to France -
Then turn not pale, beloved snail,
But come and join the dance.
Will you, won't you, will you,
Won't you, will you join the dance?

Track 13 - The Lobster Quadrille - Franz Ferdinand

Curiouser and curiouser!

Enjoy the weekend! :D

Tall Grass

If writing was a sport, it would be the kind of sport that bloodies you nose and bruises you from head to toe. (Damn it, Not the hands, Not the hands!) But this is a solitary sport… you beat yourself up. (Open-handed slapping is right up my alley! And Yes, I know I'm a Masochistic!) You delve to find the truest emotions. You rip bits and pieces apart; you dig through the bullshit collecting on top, till you expose the clarity underneath. OUCH! Good writing is a blood sport and I wouldn’t play it any other way!

Now, once upon a time a friend, Alias: Phrixus, asked me to help him with his writing. (Personal Opinion: He didn’t really need it.) You see Phrixus has an issue with finding the will to write, the time to dedicate to it. His passion and talent have never been an issue. Anyway, my advice was to find interesting pictures or a crowded place and people watch. I told Phrixus to write whatever came to mind. No judgment, no strings, and no explanations for why the sky is violet and the black clouds sing whale songs.

My Point… sometimes I take my own advice and sometimes that advice leads me waist deep in tall grasses. No judgment, no strings, and no explanations; just bloody knuckles and sore ribs!

I was hot, tired, and pissed. Really, really pissed! But I kept walking… I wouldn’t give that ass the satisfaction on losing me to the wild.

“Rat bastard… should have known you’d leave me in the middle of nowhere. AHHHH!” I howled at the sky like I expected it to help. Childish, but the tightness in my chest softened just enough for me to inhale a decent breath. Anger had been the only inheritance I knew I’d received from my mother and right now it filled every inch of me. It was a tide wave of fire, furry, and more aggression than I’d ever felt in my life.

I stomped divots into the ground as I climbed up a hill. Treading north toward the encampment; I started counting my steps. Soon it would be dark and I would be alone. The anger was finally receding if I could think thoughts so commonplace. That’s when it occurred to me, that strong and solemn as I was I’d never spent a night away from the site. Damn it that was not a comforting thought.

By the downward slope of the third hill I was trying to find the good in my situation. It was going to be a warm night (no need for a fire) and my knife could take care of most of the predators that would try to come after me.(I was a terrifying thing with that knife in my hand.) I was a private person; this could be peaceful, a night away from everyone’s stares. That would be a first.

The mounting of hill five had me planning for the morning. Walking I’d be back to the site by full sun, and then I’d find Henry. I’d find Henry and teach him my meaning of “funny”. The images that flashed in my mind had a bubble of laughter stuck in my throat. I was not a woman for laughing, but tomorrow could be the day to change that.

Most people feared me… the visitors never did, till they get close enough to really see me. I was average, in almost every sense of the word; dark hair, green eyes, slender, olive skinned, taller than most woman, with a star-shaped scar on the back of each hand. (The tan skin almost made the scars sparkle.) I always thought the scars would be off-putting, but Henry said it was something about my eyes. Their intensity had most people tripping over themselves while they backed up.

Henry’s face full of fear and regret suddenly twinkled behind my eyelids and the laughter escaped me in a burst of merriment that I’d never once heard leave… me. Maybe I didn’t need to hurt him. He was as close to a friend as I’d ever get, but memory of his little wave goodbye suddenly filled my mind. Maybe I did have to hurt him! A broken nose, done right, wouldn’t kill him. Henry grunting, holding his nose with both hands; another laugh escaped and I listened as it pierced the warm air of my twilit hill. The stars were coming out and the moon was rising, time to find a soft place on the hard ground.

I ran with a loping stride to the hollow at the bottom of my present hill. If it got to windy I’d rather not be at the top of the knoll. Before I knew it the grass was tall, waist deep and thick. I put my arms out and brushed my fingers along the tips; feather soft and delicately swaying at my touch. I could almost imagine it was alive. It was alive and it wanted my touch, no fear. Henry may talk to me, but he never came near enough to touch me, he feared me.

I didn’t walk far before I sat down and lay my head back in the soft ground. Soft ground? The thought was lost as I watched the stars long enough for them to move. Somewhere between Orion asking Aquarius to dance and the Gemini twins riding Taurus toward the east, I closed my eyes and relaxed into sleep.

When I woke, it took me a moment to remember where I was…and why! Anger raced through my spine and I fought to control it. The sky was lightening into a misty blue and I wouldn’t let myself move. I lay there trying to relax when a glimmer of sunlight hit the grass around me. Not just green… velvet shades of purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow. My God! Anger gone, I sat up and turned my head… I lay in a field of feather soft colors. The breeze caught and it rolled like a wave of refracted light, warmth hit my face and I smiled. This field was alive. Its song and dance was only for me and meant for a friend. This was a moment to change a person; to change this person.

Maybe Henry had done me a favor. Maybe I didn’t have to hurt Henry… besides it would be fun to watch him sweat with waiting. That was close enough to my version of funny.

When the world was fully awake with sunlight I stood in my painted meadow; I faced north.

Remember: No judgement, just bloody knuckles!

A Barenaked Complaint!

I have a complaint! A spectacularly huge, horrid, horrendous complain! It’s stuck! LOL, I have a song plastered to the front of my brain. It’s like taffy suctioned to the roof of my mouth, only I can’t stick my fingers in and scrape it away. AHHHHH! It’s wedged in there between Hanson and Limp Bizkit; again I say AHHHHH! It’s not "MMMBop" "Rollin’" around up there, but it’s still a part of "My Generation". ;)

Who needs sleep!?! (Me, Me, Me, I do, I do, I do!) Well, you’re never gonna get it!

DAMN IT!

The following lyrics have been rattling around up there for a week now.

“Who needs sleep?
(Well you’re never gonna get it)
Who needs sleep?
(Tell me what’s that for)
Who needs sleep?
Be happy with what you’re getting
There’s a guy who’s been awake
Since the second world war”

Who needs sleep? - Track 10 - Stunt - Barenaked Ladies

And, yet again I say AHHHHH!

Every morning I sit up in bed; touch my toes to the floor, hands stretch in the air, the yawn trying to blow away my sleepy cobwebs. I enjoy the lovely view out my window and for a moment I’m calm, relaxed, peaceful… then it pops into my head like a personal mantra… (Cringe)

“Wow I slept really well, but I’m still a little tired.”
“But, who needs sleep…” says the tiny circus clown with mismatched eyes, in the center arena of my mind.

And thus it begins again… he follows me into the shower waging his pudgy finger to the beat. He's dancing in the mirror while I'm brushing my teeth and my hair, while I'm applying my makeup. He lingers in corners or on shelves while I’m choosing the day’s outfit. Who needs sleep… when I'm losing my damn mind?

Solution: Time to break the cycle!! Time for new music, Time to change the routine; teeth first and shower second! I refuse to be bought low with yet another morning of taunting questions and perky music quipping in the background. I’M TAKIN MY MIND BACK! (AND I'm given that mini clown the bird as I leave the tent!)

Going early to bed, means I'm early to rise,
And Tomorrow I’ll see the world through rose-colored eyes!

Sleep... zzZzzZzz, I'M UP!

I know EXACTLY how he feels!

Why does Tuesday feel like it's farther away from Saturday (of the coming weekend) than a Monday? Even a Monday morning is more buoyant than Tuesday. Ahh, Tuesday you are the bane of my existence and I wish I could sleep through your droning pace, your snails race, your brightly lying condescending face! Ha Ha, I think I feel a poem coming on...

O, the weary Tuesday dawns,
Rain or shine, I’ve contagious yawns!

I stumble through the morning light,
Chipper, chirpy, smiling bright.

But inside I’m still half asleep,
Dreaming, dozing, sighing deep.

I’m half awake with work to do,
Droopy eyed, can I make it through?

O the dreams I’ll dream tonight,
I’ll curl up warm, hold my pillow tight.

But for now I’ll stretch, eyes open wide,
Cause, If I fall asleep they’ll tan my hide!

Not really! I'm actually one of those few people that love their jobs and the people I work with. My co-workers would definitely point and laugh, I'd never live it down (the taunting would last forever), but I wouldn't be in trouble. :) Life is GOOD!

Enjoy your Tuesday All!

Inkhorn?

If you could see my desk, you would chuckle… NOPE, strike that, you would outright laugh at the amount of desk space dedicated to calendars. Not one, but 6 calendars (give yourself a moment to digest…6…) are strategically spaced to surround the poor sod (i.e. Me, Myself, and I) wedged between stacks of unending paperwork. (Wow, this is bad… I forgot one! THERE ARE 7! Anyone know a good shrink?)

Anywho, my point is INKHORN! You see, one of these lovely little space-wasters is the well known and loved “Word of the Day” calendar. And yes you are correct in thinking that today’s word is (Trumpets please (Hey, it's an old word and deserves a kingly intro)) Inkhorn.


Inkhorn (Link leads to Dictionary.com)
adj: ostentatiously learned : pedantic


Confused? I know I was! If you follow the link to dictionary.com you'll get a better feel for the word. (Think of a know-it-all school teacher that likes to use unendingly HUGE words that nobody understands!)

So, the next time your friend, co-worker, or boss, start throwing their intellectual weight around, you won’t have to revert to the vocabulary of today’s youth (i.e. Tool). You can proudly accuse said party of being an inkhorn. (I defiantly encourage the use of finger pointing here!) But on second thought... I’m pretty sure (in this day and age) the verbal use of the word Inkhorn, makes you an inkhorn too. Damn! Maybe we'll have better luck with tomorrow’s word.

Regardless: thank you Word of the Day calendar for yet another word that I will rarely (if ever) use, but will still delight in knowing.

You can visit Page-A-Day Calendars website to find this and many other delightful calendars.

Elbow Love!

About a year ago a lovely author (who shall remain nameless, for now) encouraged her readers to experience Elbow. And as a devoted reader and noted impulse shopper, I purchased Elbow’s - Seldom Seen Kid from Amazon on the very same day. (This is absolutely NOT the first time I have impulsively purchased an object, product, or experience. Some of my favorite things in life fell in my lap on a whim.) Wonder of wonders, I received my CD in the mail a week later, immediately put the CD in my stereo, and… was horrified by the first song!

Up and Down, Up and Down! Horns Blaring! Sweet acoustic reggae Dave Matthews violently collides with Beethoven’s Symphony No. 5 in C Minor! WTF! Just when I was adapting and thinking those damn horns were done... AHHHH! I was too aghast with the first song to enjoy the songs that followed. (Honestly… I only listened to the next two or three songs.) So, I took the CD out of my stereo, noted the mild and creative bohemian look of the cover (ironic) and put it back in its case. (I also silently cursed my oh so lovely authors taste in music.)

A year passes…

This past weekend while on the road and needing new music to soundtrack my adventure, I reached for Elbow. The first song had me laughing as I remembered my previous experience. Hour five on the long road home and I was laughing! Thank You Elbow! Come to find out, this eclectic arrangement of songs is creative good company! Lesson Learned: Cheers to giving the things we don't immediately love, the time to burrow in and find a home.

So, if you think you can hang in the space between Dave and Ludwig, where it rains Jonny Lang and the flowers sway to Aqualung, I too encourage the Elbow love experience! :D

“Someone tell me how I feel
It’s silly wrong but vivid right
Oh, kiss me like the final meal
Yeah, kiss me like we die tonight”

“So throw those curtains wide!
One day like this a year’d see me right”

- One Day Like This, Track 10, Seldom Seen Kid, Elbow

I wholeheartedly agree, Throw those curtains wide!

P.S. Just because track one doesn't sound all that loud in the beginning, take it from me, DON'T TURN IT UP!

P.P.S. Thank you "Lovely Author" who shall remain nameless, I'm delighted I took your advice!

Yours in Earnest...

This is me…
Sincerely.

I am made of light and wings,
Of golden thoughts and other things.

Hair of the russet fire, eye of the earth
Twirling, changing, adapting since birth.

Outer shield, transparent dew,
Cream and rose’s angelic hue.

Voice of whispers, rapture’s truth
Glowing shell, my naive youth.

My eyes are wide with love’s ripe joys
Wind carries music, a song bird’s noise.

Can you hear it, touch it, taste it, gone.
Vanished, dancing in tomorrow’s dawn.

Floating, Flying… Flying, Flown
Childhood flickers and I am grown.

Straight… small
Standing tall.

Stronger grace,
Smiling face.

I cannot be caged, will not be caged
For the keeper, A keeper’s war to be waged.

When I’m free to be here, it is here I will stay,
Nested in flowers, my head will I lay.

Bluest of skies, friend of my heart,
For now and for always, never feather apart.

~ Alexandria Englander-Tuttle

What's in a name...

What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. - William Shakespeare

I have recently found that not all of society is as enamored or well informed (as I tend to be) with the meaning of names. (The linked site is wonderful, enjoy!) Since I was old enough to write my name, I’ve have been awed by what names can do. The emotions they evoke, the people they can mold, the journeys they can inspire. Names are the foundation of everything.

For example Alexandria is a feminine form of Alexander. Alexander the Great founded several cities by this name (or renamed them) as he extended his empire eastwards. The most notable of these is Alexandria in Egypt, founded by Alexander in 331 BC. Three guesses what it means. Latinized form of the Greek name Alexandros, which meant "defending men" from Greek alexo "to defend, help" and aner "man".

DEFENDER OF MAN

What a journey this name can inspire. Now, how to deserve it? How to become the evocation of such a name. How to become worthy of being the defender of man.