That guy

Sure, he’s attractive.

But, after all these years, why have we never dated, you want to know?

Because too many of his actions are consistent with ones that would belong to a description of someone defined by our culture as “a douche”.

That’s why.

Post-a-day 2018

Advertisements

Release leads to giddy joy

I received some delightful news today, but I wasn’t jumping for joy at learning it.

However, I have, since learning about that, been giddily delighted about something else entirely…

I think that the news today gave my whole being such a sense of relief that I suddenly was able to enjoy fully the something else I’ve been pondering lately (but hadn’t really been able to enjoy yet).

Funny how that happens. ūüôā

Post-a-day 2018

High school crushes

It seems that I have a sort of high school crush.  That is to say, if I were in high school right now, I would have a total crush on this musical theatre guy.  For whatever reason, I noticed his photo and name in a program a few years ago, and have remembered him ever since, always recognizing his face and name, both in the program and actually up on the stage.  (I think I overheard some family members of his once, and so checked the program to see whom they were talking about doing so well in his musical theatre goals.  That sounds familiar.)

Anyway, it’s been so long and it has happened so gradually, I didn’t even notice when I started getting excited any time I saw him in a program.  Fast forward to tonight, and I was actually a bit giddy when I saw his picture and name.  I had a casual fan girl moment when he passed me as I walked to the bathroom during intermission. And it was not actual freak-out or anything РI merely smiled and considered how I would have freaked out and jumped up and down and all if I actually had been in high school, and if this were a real crush.

Nonetheless, I am delighted for this guy and his obviously progressing career in musical theatre – and his obviously progressing muscle mass – and it is exciting to recognize someone in all of these shows, even if I haven‚Äôt met him and I don‚Äôt actually know him. ¬†Just his name and his talent…

Plus, it‚Äôs quite likely that he is gay, making it all the more like my old high school crushes – the best and most desireable guys always seemed to be gay back then. ¬†(And I‚Äôm not so sure that that has changed much since then, actually…)

Post-a-day 2018

Teatime with the girls

A sort of short story about a girl’s casual, 30-second train of thought.

……………………………………………..

“…I go on a job interview there, and that’s how we finally meet up, and discover that we really do like one another in a dating capacity. ¬†And so, I start working over there, and we start dating. ¬†That’s easy enough, you see,” says Eliza.

“Okay…” replies Karen speculatively. ¬†“And then?”

“Well, and then we realize that we totally love one another,” continues Eliza, “and we’re ready to get married. ¬†But the question is whether we get married here or over there. ¬†If we got married there, it would be totally classy and cool, but then all of my family and friends here likely would miss out. ¬†But then, I think, what people here do I really care about having at my wedding? ¬†Most of them would be invited only so I could show off my amazing husband and wedding to them, anyway. ¬†And wouldn’t it be accomplishing the same thing by getting married in Europe instead, where my husband is from? ¬†It shows how he’s exotic, and so am I, getting married over there. ¬†Plus, then all the ladies could wear their fabulous hats and everything would be so chic and practically straight out of some fashion magazine.
“I would have a dress that is inspired from the princesses’ wedding dresses in London over the years, with a hint of French flare and loads of my own personality, all tied together beautifully and stunningly.”

Karen cuts her off, “You have the dress planned already?”

“Well,¬†I’m not sure about the whole thing exactly, but I know how the sleeves would look, and they’re spectacular and classy. ¬†And YES, they¬†do exist, despite all this recent fashion of sleeveless wedding dresses. ¬†So not my style.”

Karen shakes her head, and takes a sip of tea as Eliza continues.

“Anyway, so that could be cool. ¬†And we’d have a super-fab old Church for the wedding, and that would be amazing and¬†not clich√©, because it’s actually just normal in Europe. ¬†But then, we’d have to have some kind of something here in the US afterward. ¬†I’m not sure what, exactly, but something to celebrate specifically with everyone here who couldn’t make the trip. ¬†But nothing lame. ¬†Too many people do a lame ‘Oh, we couldn’t invite all of you to the wedding, but we still want to celebrate with you’. ¬†Aka ‘Give us presents, even though you weren’t good enough to be invited to the wedding.’ ¬†Not to be harsh, but you get the point…”

“Who’s she talking about?” whispers Lorena, who has just returned from flirting at the tea bar.

“The guy from the photo I showed you yesterday,” replies Karen, sighing. ¬†Lorena accepts this, and begins to process what Eliza is saying.

“Then we’d continue living over there, and it’d be perfect, because it lines up with my wanting to live over there, and we’d be so close for an easy trip up to visit Christine and her husband whenever we wanted for a long weekend or whatever. ¬†Or I could go alone super easily.”

Astounded, Lorena cuts in, “You mean you’ve already decided on wedding plans with this guy?! ¬†You haven’t even gone on a date, yet!”

“He hasn’t even asked her out,” chuckles Karen.

Only slightly defensively, Eliza replies cooly, “Well, if we can’t agree on a wedding location and place to live, then it isn’t really worth bothering dating in the first place, now¬†is it? ¬†We’d be wasting our time if we knew so soon that it never would work out, yet went forward with it all, anyway.”

“She has a point,” allows Karen, raising her eyebrows.

After a pause, Lorena replies, “True… ¬†I still hold that you’re nuts, Eliza.”

“I’ll second that,” throws in Karen.

“Third it!” laughs Eliza. ¬†“Oh, I know I’m totally nuts. ¬†That’s why it’s so important that a guy and I be compatible through and through before we bother starting anything.”

They erupt in giggles and laughter, enjoying the ridiculousness of the conversation, and knowing how true Eliza’s statement really is.

“Weirdo,” says Lorena, playfully. ¬†“Okay, let’s have some lunch. ¬†I’m hungry, and now all I can think about is smoked salmon…”

The other two frown questioningly at her.

“What? ¬†You were talking about weddings. ¬†Weddings always make me think of smoked salmon.”

“Weirdo.”

“Total weirdo.”

Lorena laughs, “Whatever.”

……………………………………………..

Post-a-day 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tying up dirty boys with grammar

Changing laundry from the washing machine to the dryer (It’s a machine, I know!!!!!!!*), I saw a towel on the floor between the two machines. ¬†It was originally intended for the load of red shades earlier today, but the load was too large for comfort, so I pulled out the towel. ¬†I left it on the floor, because a towel load needed to be done today or tomorrow anyway, so why bother bringing it back upstairs just to bring it back down only hours later? ¬†But that isn’t the point.

The point is (sort of) that I saw the towel sitting there, and I had an almost-urge to pick it up and put it in the dryer with the laundry I was transferring. ¬†Not that I wanted to put it¬†in with the clean laundry, but that, usually, whenever something is on the floor there, it is because it has fallen in the transfer between the two machines. ¬†So, I simultaneously wanted not to touch the towel, to put it in the dryer, and to move it to the dirty towels upstairs (since I wasn’t doing the final two loads tonight, but doing them tomorrow). ¬†And, for a good moment, I was worried that I would pursue the final of the three, and accidentally fulfill the second in my tiredness and in the middle of routine muscle movements, and then wish for the first.

I managed to let go of having to deal with the towel now, and I left it on the floor, for fear of the second result.

As I thought about that possible second result, I was practically distraught at how it would ruin the fact that I had already put the load of clothes on to wash. ¬†By putting one single towel in the dryer, I thought, an entire load of laundry would be considered dirty. ¬†Now, why doesn’t that work the other way around? ¬†Why does one piece of clean laundry not make a load of dirty laundry clean, when mixed together? ¬†The dirty still win out. ¬†And how come a whole load of clean laundry can’t overpower the one dirty article? ¬†The clean just can’t overcome.

And then – now, this is the point of this all – I wondered about what is life is like this, if anything. ¬†Almost immediately, I thought about gender pronouns (and particularly in Spanish and French, because I learned those first). ¬†It’s just like guys and girls. ¬†A group full of guys, the dirty clothes, is (let’s use French)¬†ils. ¬†Add one girl, the clean clothing, and it stays¬†ils. ¬†A group full of girls is¬†elles. ¬†Add one boy, and it becomes¬†ils.

So, no matter what, if there are any boys, it is ils, dirty.  The only way to keep it elles is to have only girls Рno boys allowed.

And how odd that the boys are the dirty laundry and the girls are the clean… so like life, and I hadn’t even intended it to be so.**

Anyway, isn’t all of that fun?! ¬†Towels to grammar to life comparisons – I do lead an extraordinarily interesting life, huh? ¬†ūüėõ

 

 

*Japan doesn’t exactly¬†do dryers. ¬†People are expected to hang clothes outside, because every has a stay-at-home wife, you see… not. ¬†Everyone¬†used to have a stay-at-home wife, but the lifestyle hasn’t changed. ¬†It just takes days and days to do laundry as a solo-liver, because weather can decide to soak your clean clothes while you’re off at work, or hide the sun from them, or be too humid for them to dry at all until they start to smell of mildew… ¬†I just hung mine all indoors, because I’d heard too many stories from my brother’s issues. ¬†Plus, supposedly people steal women’s underwear from the drying clothes in Japan. ¬†I didn’t need to deal with any of that nonsense. ¬†So, I set my air conditioner to a daytime setting to keep the apartment mildew-free, which also helped dry my clothes!

** I once wrote a poem about how boys are dirty. ¬†I didn’t exactly believe any of it, but I knew that people thought boys were dirty and smelly, and I rolled with the idea.

Post-a-day 2017

Christmas Music and Photos at the Beach

IMG_1702

This afternoon, I headed down to Galveston to visit my cousin. ¬†We had discussed meeting at Dickens on the Strand, but I didn’t have a costume, and I was too far behind schedule for that really to work. ¬†However, we could still hang out when she finished at the little festival. ¬†Plus, I felt that I could really use some time in Galveston, and preferably some time on the beach.

I arrived about two hours before sunset, and as much time before my cousin would be finishing, so I headed straight for the beach. ¬†We made these advent calendars for one another, with a tea for each day, as well as a quote/bible verse and a sort of task for the day. ¬†My tea yesterday was spectacular, but today’s flavor was not to my liking. ¬†However, the task for today was fabulous. ¬†It read, “Learn a Christmas song on a string instrument”. ¬†And so, seeing as I had a phone for the research and a ukulele in my trunk, instead of reading my book, I headed down to the sunny sand to play some ukulele.

IMG_1684

While playing, people passed by, going about their business. ¬†Some just walking in light jackets, others exercising with the dog, and one family had three little boys sprinting into the edge of the water, playing. ¬†After a while, it started getting quite cool, thanks to the wind and the setting sun. ¬†My fingers began to struggle against stiffness. ¬†As I paused to warm them (I think that’s what it was, anyway), I glanced out to my left. ¬†The rising moon was spectacular. ¬†I had noticed it big and sneaky a while before, hiding behind the haze so close to Earth’s surface, but now it was beginning to glow.

And what was just under the now-glowing moon, but the three frolicking boys, looking quite adorable.  The scene was set, and I had to take a photo.

IMG_1692

Unfortunately, they were just far enough away that I needed to zoom, if I wanted to have the photo focus on what I was naturally focusing…, and the zoom is not so great on a phone.

So, I made another essay, and went for a different perspective.  To get it to be perfectly straight, I would have had to get down on my belly and align it, and that just felt a little too conspicuous.

Nonetheless, after I took the photos, I really enjoyed them.  I knew that I would have loved for someone to take an awesome shot of me and then actually give it to me.  So, I checked out the parents to see if they seemed at all of similar minds to mine.

And they did.  They looked young and open to things.  They even were taking photos of the kids and of themselves on their own phones, so they were likely to understand the value of a good photo.  Or, a neat one, anyway.

I figured I might as well go for it, so I set my stuff carefully to the side, and stood on up. ¬†I approached them comfortably and confidently and in my best ‘I am a sane person, please don’t freak out,’ manner. ¬†They gave me odd looks when I mentioned how this might be a bit odd, – wouldn’t you, if a stranger walked up and started saying something like that? – but their brows cleared and they were all about it, when I showed them the photos I’d taken. ¬†The mom asked me if I could send them to her, if she gave me her number.* ¬†Of course, of course…¬†And so, I sent them to her, and she was incredibly grateful. ¬†They had been seeing about doing a Christmas card, using their beach photos they were taking then, so they completely understood fun and neat photos, and they were not at all weirded out. ¬†phew

IMG_1698

And so, I went back to my ukulele for a little bit longer, until the sun was almost hidden, and the wind was too chilly, and I headed back to the car and over to my cousin’s house to wait for her there.

As I ast on the beach, and then again after I was back in my car, I contemplated the experience of being on a beach. ¬†I hadn’t gone into the water, and I hadn’t even touched the sand, really – just to wipe off the bottom of my bag afterward. ¬†What was beautiful and almost magical about it, though, was the wind and the air and salt, the feeling of it all on my skin, and the view. ¬†I love the feeling of my hair after time at the beach (not to touch, but the feeling from within), that salty, windblown feeling. ¬†I had that today, and it was truly refreshing. ¬†And it had me wonder, if I didn’t want to give a brief time living there. ¬†I at least need to go down there, just to hang around the wind and the ocean more often than I have done lately. ¬†At least once a month, if not once a week or every two weeks… that would be brilliant…

Anyway, that’s what I’ve got to share for now. ¬†Sweet dreams, world (and good afternoon and evening to the other side of it)!

 

*I chuckled inside at this when she asked. ¬†Let’s be real, why else would I have been showing her the photos? ¬†‘No, you can’t have them. ¬†I just wanted to show you these awesome photos I took of your children, and then leave you to wonder if there’s something wrong with me.’

 

Post-a-day 2017

It really is all relative

Tonight, I was reminded of a girl I met, while I was living in Toulouse, France. ¬†She was in school (high school, I believe), and doing a temporary internship at the place where I was doing my volunteering. ¬†She was from a small country that was at war (and it might still be, but I haven’t kept up with the news). ¬†She had a boyfriend and a baby of her own, in addition to a younger sister, I believe. ¬†She taught me much.

What I was discussing with my mom tonight is how relative things are in life. ¬†Just as in Aesop’s last fable today, with the bunny rabbits about to drown themselves in their exhaustion of living in fear, and suddenly discovering the frogs at the pond afraid of them, causing them to realize that someone had it worse off than they did, so is life. ¬†No matter what one’s struggles and turmoils, there’s always someone worse off. ¬†And I feel like our turmoils and struggles are saddening next to the real turmoils and struggles of other parts of the world. ¬†This girl spoke to me about her country of origin, and how they moved to France. ¬†And, when she spoke about it all, it were as though she were telling me about a class project, or how she went grocery shopping yesterday. ¬†Those, however, were not the subject matter. ¬†What I remember most of her story, is how people broke into her house one day/night, beat up her parents (and possibly her, too), and then took her father. ¬†Her family tried offering money as a ransom for her father’s return, but no information was even received regarding her father – they never found out if he even was alive or dead, or who had taken him. ¬†Just some men, she’d said.

I mean it that it were as though she were telling me about what she did yesterday after work/school. ¬†She was not sad in her words, nor was she hauntingly depressed in her eyes or spirit. ¬†She was living life as I was, and merely sharing about something. ¬†‘Yeah, I don’t know where Josh went after dinner, but he left. ¬†We called him, but never got a response. ¬†Maybe he went home, instead of coming for coffees with us.’ ¬†That’s was the easiness with which she spoke – no premeditation or practice. ¬†It was just what’s so, and so that was how she told it.

I say a prayer for the world tonight.

Post-a-day 2017