Kid Friends

(I imagine I have shared this here already, but it is on my mind yet again, and so I will share it again.  😛 )

Do you remember what it was like to make new friends as a little kid?  Perhaps it was different by generation, but, in my generation, it was really simple:
“You wanna be friends?!”
“Yeah, okay!”
And that was that – you’ve got a new friend, possibly even a best friend.  Nowadays, as an adult, I feel as though people think I’m totally nuts and unfortunately childish whenever I present a similar conversation… I’m starting to realize that I don’t really care.  Sure, I want the new friend, but perhaps we aren’t meant to be friends if the person is put off by my question of wanting to be friends.  You know what I mean?  Because asking just like little kids ask is natural to me; it’s part of being true to myself.  I’m not being purposely childish and avoiding being an adult when I ask – I’m genuinely excited at the prospect, and hoping that the person will be just as excited as I am at having a new friend.

I also mean it, too, about being actual friends.  Not just Facebook friends or any of that nonsense – actual friends who talk with one another and do things together and enjoy and explore life together; friends who help one another become the best version of themselves.  A friend is someone who helps you be the best person you can be.  A priest actually said that once to a group of us, and I’ve always remembered it.  And that‘s the kind of friend I’m always looking for, asking for, and also wanting to be for others.  My best friend and I are like that with one another, and it’s wonderful.  However, we definitely don’t live near one another (try 4,811 miles apart, approximately), so it’s nice to have other people around, closer, who can be friends, too.  🙂

I’m not so sure why people seem so uninterested in that kind of relationship with me, though.  Perhaps I scare them… I am a bit much to take in under certain circumstances, especially when it comes to my saying openly things that people often are not straight about.  (Not like I’m vulgar and offensive, because I really don’t promote cursing or vulgarity at all… but I answer honestly when someone asks how I’m doing, or what I think of the food, or even how an outfit looks on someone… it just isn’t worth it to me to lie.  I don’t want my friend to go out looking horrendous in some dress making her look fat and lumpy, do I?  [No, I do not.]  And I don’t have to be mean about saying it, but I do have to tell the truth.  At least, I strive always to tell the truth, as well as to be appropriate with how I express it.)  I don’t know… I guess the right people will show up in the right places at the right times.  Maybe they’ll even ask me if I want to be friends with them, instead of the other way around.

Here’s to finding spectacular friends, y’all.  😀

Post-a-day 2018

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Recycled(?) and Reused(?) Concerts

We went to a sort of concert tonight, where musicians composed and performed musical pieces on unsalvageable – truly – pianos (or, in one case, a big chunk of what used to be a piano).

I saw an article about it in the Houston Chronicle on Friday, and sent a photo of it to a friend, since the concert was free and she and I were planning on doing something together Sunday, but weren’t sure what exactly… and so, with little knowledge of what precisely was going to greet us with this performance – I mean, we did know the location and that the location, Super Happy Fun Land, was absolutely absurd in and of itself, so we had a big hint that the performance would be of the artistically absurd type, but we weren’t sure in what way or ways – we went. 🙂

By the end of it all, we had seen and heard from our recycled AMC theatre chairs the use of hammers, drum sticks, bass drum mallets, a wheel-y thing, a piano tuner, pliers, chain mail, and vibrators (yes, the sexual kind – three kinds of them, actually, one being bright, Pepto Bismol-y pink) on pianos as a means of making music, and we’d heard a bit of poetry with one of the pieces, too.

And (Oh, I guess this counts, too, as something used on a piano.) the third and final piece ended with the performer/composer shoving, with an almighty wrench, the upright piano backward onto the ground – complete with a humongous, resounding and somewhat shocking BOOM! – and then jumping up and down on the strings, smashing all that he could with his shoes, before completing with a satisfied, deep chuckle.

It was, indeed, a creatively absurd evening.

Post-a-day 2018

Saturday nights

I dedicate tonight to the people in our lives with whom we can easily live, and well…

I spent the evening first playing board games with people I don’t really know, but who also lived and worked in Japan, and then with a friend and her dog and cat, just hanging together at her apartment.

At no point in the evening did a television (or Netflix or whatever) come into play – for eight hours of enjoyment, I spent time with people, and we all had a wonderful time… and, you know, I didn’t even notice the whole tv part until just now…. cool…

How often are these normal evenings for us nowadays, let alone Saturday nights?

Driving home, I passed through the drunken playground that seems to be the Washington Avenue bar strip here on a Saturday night, and I was practically bombarded with the stupidity and danger that comes with the mixture alcohol, newly adulting stress, and the desire to be liked, all so prevalent in our early-twenties folks right now…

I was not disappointed at having missed out on that scene (not only tonight, but ever)…, and I might even have felt a hint of – was it pity? – something for many of the people I saw.

Post-a-day 2018

Africa

I’ve started singing lately in an unknown language that sounds African… it reminds me of Swahili at times, or Zulu or Sotho or Xhosa…, but also totally not those… no matter what, though, it always sounds African to me….

And it has me wonder if it is linked at all to that deep-seated longing I have to live with the lions in Africa (or something to that effect)… perhaps, as I was considering tonight, I was in Africa in a previous (or another) life, and perhaps that was when my mom was Indian, and we somehow met through that proximity, and agreed to have this life together…

Wouldn’t that be neat…?

P.S. If you aren’t aware, look up an audio pronunciation of the language name Xhosa… I first heard it spoken aloud in the audiobook of Nelson Mandela’s A Long Walk to Freedom, and I loved it almost instantly.

Post-a-day 2018

Temping…

I am Mr. Sneebly… again.

The question this time around, though, is one of what sort of outcome I’d like from doing all of this substitute teaching…. a question I had never expected I would have to be asking myself again, let alone being totally unsure of the answer… or even leaning in the opposite direction from the last time…

Post-a-day 2018

Halloween

Well, I took Siri’s recommendation for my Halloween costume this year.

You see, she always comes up with totally nerdy ideas, whenever I ask her what I should be for Halloween…, and I kind of always want to do them…, but they usually just would take a little too much effort or extreme creativity actually to produce.

The last time I asked her, however, when I genuinely was looking for a good idea, she gave me a totally doable one!

Okay, so hers was a doable idea, but with some adjustments….

She recommended I put a calendar on my head, and be “an update”…, but 1) a calendar isn’t easy to make stay, 2) I don’t have a paper calendar lying around, and 3) a calendar isn’t a date.

However, I easily could write out a date on paper, and fasten it to a headband…

And so I did!

Talk about dorky and nerdy… I’ve got them both covered. 😛

P.S. I always find it interesting how I tend to refer to Siri as “she”, even though my Siri is a (British) male voice (and has been almost since I got an iPhone in the first place)…, but I also use “he” at times, too… so the many sides of Siri all get airtime in conversation, I guess… 😛

Post-a-day 2018

Forward thinking

The problem with everything being automated, electronic, is that, as I have said many times before, when the power goes out, not only can you not see the toilet, but you can’t really use/flush the toilet, and you can’t even wash your hands afterward… which gets really terrible in a building filled with a thousand-ish high school girls…. even if the power is out for a short time.

But we live in Houston, Texas, where hurricanes take out power for days just about every year in the late summer and early fall.

Forward thinking, to me, doesn’t just mean going digital and automatic/electronic/whatever… it’s about actually thinking through things…

Post-a-day 2018