Old Biddy* again?

Hi.

So my mother has been on a mission to replace the permanent flower arrangements and so we've been to Pat Catan's several times browsing through aisles of fake flowers (there was even a trip to Michael's). But somehow on the latest trip Monday night, despite the ridiculous rain from hurricane Sandy which I didn't want to do, since well it was raining sideways and gray and murky and who wants to do errands in that kind of weather? I stumbled upon a group meeting.

Earlier in the rounds we had been making, I noticed one of the workers walking out of the back storage with a clear bag (think garbage bag size) filled with skeins of yarn, and I thought, "oh man, did she horde all that from the shelves and keep it all for herself? Damn girl." As we neared the front of the store, I notice that very same worker sitting with a few others at the few tables that were set out.

So after plucking up a bit of courage, I bumbled through a conversation, to find that they were a group that got together from 6-9 Monday nights to share and talk about projects and work on them. I was invited to join and confirmed as a true crocheter [apparently due to having several projects going on at the same time at various stages of completion - take that Kristine :P - though I still appreciate the occasional push ^_^].

Though somehow... I'm a little worried for myself... why? Well, let's just say, I'll be joining a group of much older women who like watching dancing with the stars live [I'm sorry my opinion of that show has dropped considerably in the past few years]... So does the fact that I'm kinda excited to join this group of old biddies make me one too?

Happy Halloween!

*Old Biddy Syndrome - just in case you didn't get the reference ^_^

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Show and Tell, Progress 2

Hi.

So continuing on in the spirit of logging my positive points in life...

• Clearly I have too few crochet projects on the table, and I need more. So I've added on an additional project (already a tenth or an eighth of the way through). What makes this seem alright? Well, the cute project is almost done. Just the tassels and knotting/tucking the stray ends in left to do which some would consider the hardest part of the project...
• I am now finally a VIP member at Pat Catan's. Free membership complete. Now the only problem? All the yarn is always marked down with a red tag... which equates to no discounts. Joy. Well, at least  it's tax exempt and there's the beads and wiring for the project I'm working on with the temple...
• Physical exercise is a go. Yoga was Wednesday and Friday nights this week, and will be repeated the same next week. Now given that each day has been followed by a recovery day, maybe I should carry on the spirit of working out (in my own this time) to ensure there is no repetition of the slacker days. Positive thinking, motivation activating... ok, let's try that when it really counts like not 1:30am ^_^.
• Tomorrow will hopefully be the first in the long series of attempts to learn Sanskrit. Now, where is that notebook I'd say I'd procure? Well, there's always computer paper :D.
• As a few of you know, I've been trying this thing called Friday Night Wine Nights (FNWN for short). First 2 Fridays went along without a hiccup. The following 2 were somehow made up later the same weekend, though differing in species of poison and brand of company. But this week, by some miracle of serendipity, not only did FNWN proceed without a hitch, but a new red wine was savored (fruity, not very dry, inexpensive, and with potential for use in a variety of situations), there was vibrant company and delicious food, and I learned that wine nights need not happen in the wee hours of the night ^_^.

So maybe progress? Only time will tell ^_^.

But of course this is not yet the end. A few things to share with you, for your hearing pleasure, the songs of this post (2 cuz the last one didn't have a song ^_^):

Now many singing/music collaborators (a Capella, solo composers, DJs, showchoir, glee clubs, etc) have taken it upon themselves to combine two or more songs in a medley or mashup. And frankly, to me it's very easy to fail. Sure it's easy to find songs that come together wonderfully or follow such similar paths that joining their melodies can be found. (Though it's the ones you don't expect could be combined that amaze you ^_^). But the biggest criticism I've had is that the songs are not mixed well enough. Aside from highlighting each song, what really makes the mashup shine is when both songs are juxtaposed frequently (having lines from both songs come together several times not just once in transition). One of the best examples of a mashup I've ever heard (the full version, and if you can, pay attention to all the voices/lines sung):

The first thing that drew me about this next song? The ukulele sounding stringed instrument at the start ^_^. Well that and the name of the band, Imagine Dragons. At first it was shock since I felt they were kind of ripping off I Fight Dragons. Yet somehow the name brought this sort of rising, hopeful feeling inside, something fantastical (ok, not a word, but the one that came to mind ^_^), and it meshed with the song, making it grow into this happiness monster. But by all means, let me not get carried away, for it is indeed time to begin listening to the song:

I hope you enjoyed this slightly longer than usual Little Scratch ^_^. Goodnight and sweet dreams [of pineapples].

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Progress

Hi.

I figured that maybe if I document progress, I'll stick to progress, and not regress back to where I was before.

• I've gotten back to crocheting, a big project, a challenging project, and a cute project are all on the work table. And add to that, I can get a VIP card from Pat Catan's for free before Oct 25th, and I'll get more discounts on yarn, and I might even tackle a 2 yr old project that never seems to get finished.
• I'm going to learn Sanskrit, plans include learning from my brother with the side positives: I'll be able to use that to see him more often, I'd get out of the house on the weekends, and we'll be able to share his textbook. And on top of that, it's practice for him, since he's taking the course as we speak. Now just to pick a dedicated notebook...
• Today, I volunteered at the temple, decorating the tent/carrier thing used for tonight's Navrathri puja. And I have been given the chance to make a more lasting decoration that can be reused year after year. Community/volunteering/spiritual work that'll be good for the mind and soul ^_^.
• I helped out by tutoring a bad mouthing, back talking (or so I was told) nine year old who I actually didn't think was much worse than the usual distracted, curious nine year old. And not only did I manage to help him finish his homework, but I also apparently managed to get him to act more civilized/respectful than he's ever been.

(I'm getting vibes of déjà vu... is this my grade school journal again? ^_^)

All in all, it's been a good few days. I've gotten out of the house (even if it's just to get a bit more yarn), and I feel like I'm doing something proactive. So after all that, why do I just want to curl up into a ball and stay there listening to my "Blah" playlist?

Well... maybe I do know why. But that's for me to brood about and you to puzzle over.

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Harmed

Hi.

There are many kinds of hurt. There's the physical kind - the boo-boos, the cuts and scraps, the accidents, the cancerous, the inflicted - those that register as bodily damage. There is another category, the emotional.

To quantify these, well, you'd have to be an expert. Or, you could experience them all. And somehow as time goes, I seem to be racking up quite a repertoire.

Absent Minded Professor-ness

Hi.

There is a serious and fatal mental condition affecting the population of the globe, both young and old - the onset unpredictable. It is a serious disease, causing loss of memory, oblivion to the surrounding environment, and even sudden loss of coherence mid-thought.

And so when you find yourself with these symptoms, it's time to get serious.

Unchallenged

Hi.

"A mind that remembers the insignificant little details, is a mind that shows the potential for greatness but lacks the challenging material to harness that potential."

Just yesterday, I came across this saying at a workshop. A dance workshop in fact. And it occurred to me, that lately, my mind seems to have been filled with the most ridiculous, idiotic bits of information. Something that had never happened when I was dancing.

Now, as you may know I love to dance, and it's a kind of escape for me. Part of it was that I could dance and completely not think about anything else - probably because I was completely using my brain power towards dancing: memorizing the choreography (and making it ^_^), how to move your body, the music, the formations, the expressions, etc, etc, etc.

I mean if there's one thing I can do, it's remember dance pieces, not just quickly, but also for a long period of time especially with muscle memory aiding the memory. I like to think it's because I have a separate brain for that kind of thing - or well, a separate side of the brain ^_^. You know, left side is analytical and right side is artistic; therefore, the left side remembers the deadlines, the class information, the studying, and the like, whereas the untapped space in the right side soaks up every aspect of my dancing.

So one would then assume, as the reinforcement of the dance items fades (no longer practicing), those neurons lose their connections, and the memories fade, leaving large areas of unused brain matter that are taken up by these useless thoughts.

So maybe it's time for me to go back and relearn those dance items, to reinvigorate my brain with dance. Maybe it's time that I back up my statement that I am a performer with the knowledge of the items I've learned. For what is a dancer without her dances?

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Props

Hi.

For that awkward moment you just realize one boob is bigger than the other.

And not the one you thought.

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Just Drive

Hi.

Procrastination jitters?

I've reached a point where something could actually happen. It'll no longer be in my head - actual events will unfold. I can do all those things I've planned to. All I need to do is apply the pressure on the gas pedal.

Yet I hesitate. 

I've shifted into drive, but my foot's cemented to the brake.

I'm nervous.

It's as if now that I'm faced with the product of my split second choice, I can't seem to move forward. There are butterflies... and not the good kind.

Is it because it means that this whole thing will be real? It feels serious.

Or is it because it's under wraps, and I just don't want to see my parents speculating looks?
My hand is reaching for the gear shift.

I can't seem to move forward.

I slam the parking break.

I distract.

I divert.

I fib.

I avoid.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxWpsUiAxL8

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Dark Side

Hi.

What does it mean to be in a committed, serious relationship?

It of course would consist of fidelity, honesty, love, compromise, sharing - you know what you'd expect a relationship to consist of.

But what trips me over is the honesty. Not present honesty, but honesty about your past. There are those moments from your past that you are ashamed of, and things that have happened in your life, that though they define you, are only known to you, because you have covered the true reasons with the white lie you've been living.

Are you expected to reveal your truest secrets in the fear that such misinformation may lead to the death of said relationship when revealed?

*Cough*

Hi.

Holy shit I'm so amp-ed up that I can't even write this. 

It's like something's taken over me.

All I can do is squirm around, giddy as hell.

I can't believe I did that.

I can't believe it just happened.

Oh my fucking god I just DID that.

And then he just said that.

Oh my god, it just worked.

My adrenaline's skyrocketed.

Sleeping took forever.

I'm awake before my alarm.

Bubbly-butterflies-bumblebees-buzzing.
Is this even real?

And it started with a whisper

- well, a cough, but frankly does it matter?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Rgf7enIgoc&feature=relmfu

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Frankenstein

Hi.

She's ALIVE!

Yes, I am. Really. It just seems that lately I've been stranded in a bubble in the suburbs, wilting away indoors.
Somehow, without tasks that force one from the confines of the house (to the extent that I despair when I'm deprived the opportunity to go grocery shopping) and people with which to interact, it becomes very easy to be lulled into a becoming a recluse.

So, yes. I'm alive.

Just barely.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gt31tD-nABw

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That spot between a rock and a hard place

Hi.

So if there's one thing I seem to know how to do, it's being mediator between my mother and my brother. I don't know when it seemed to become my 24/7 job description, but I can tell you that it is most definitely nothing to be ecstatic about. In fact being the go between just gets worse when you have been raised to do what you parents ask without question - leaving you in the middle and most definitely with no time on your hands.

Gravitation

Hi.

Disclaimer: 

I began writing this more than a month ago, and I am most definitely too lazy to re-edit the introduction.

And this post has a dictated soundtrack, so unless you have the data... no reading on mobile devices :P

And, now you may proceed ^_^

April, May - months that don't really end much, but very much like the nature of spring itself, they are months of many endings and beginnings have happened for me, full of events that have no undo button, locked behind bars in the dungeons of my mind. But like an echo, traces of their presence linger in my memories, to haunt me again and again and again.

And once I turn my mind to past events, visions of altered actions and possibilities of future events race through my mind. Even if I stand up and push away such thoughts, I seem to return to those thoughts with a renewed vigor fueled by recent events, despite every logical fiber of my brain screaming the delusional nature of such futures.

It's like I can't seem to escape the pull of these treacherous dreams. And it makes me wonder, given the fact that I can't seem to escape their orbit, can I really make claim that I have moved on, when I'm still trapped by their gravitational pull?

Badges of Honor

Hi.

Scar - 

(n) a wound that has healed poorly, or without the sufficient nutrients, causing the location to be filled with fibrous connective tissue instead of the correct skin and body tissues.

Or, like I like to consider it, a permanent memory etched into your skin, a reminder that you have lived your life and have the proof - probably a mindset more akin to that of age old cultures with a bit of a romantic flair to the whole thing. (which frankly is kind of weird now that I've typed it out... I'm really strange... :P).

Return to the Matrix

Hi.

I know, I know, it's been forever since my last post... in fact I think it's my first post in May, and there's barely a week left in the month...

But not all of it's my fault - I've been off grid for some time now.

Ok, I exaggerate a bit... I wasn't completely off grid, but I most definitely was as close to it as I could possibly get, and I definitely was around folk that were completely off grid - because it's easier to do that when you live in the middle of the ocean on a live volcano.

^_^

It was amazing, everyone should go there, I never wanted to leave, but alas I had to return to reality - but man it was AMAZING...

...to be continued... 

(after I finish organizing, captioning/tagging, and posting the 1,000+ photos taken on both cameras brought to the islands, and possibly unpacking and doing laundry at the least... >.<)

P.S.: And yes, I refer to the islands of Hawaii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

(in case you were wondering ^_^)

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Touch

Hi.

A mind unchallenged (or unused) will fall into a state of decrepitude.

Through disuse, newly formed synapses diminish in number. And with age the ability of those very neurons to recreate or even maintain such pathways abates.

It's through those connections we are able to sense the world around us. We live through these senses: seeing the faces of the people we care for, hearing the opinionated conversations, tasting the delicious meals shared, painting our memory with the aromas surrounding us, and feeling.

Feeling the kinship of another human being - reaffirming our connection to the people who are closest to us. That is what we communicate through touch. It is a way to remind ourselves that we are not alone - a connection that no form of technology has managed to reproduce. It is an intimate interaction. 

So it makes me wonder then that if we are without a consistent triggering of such sensory neurons, would those pathways will also fall into decay, leaving us with faded memories of another being's warmth?

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Flora Fancies

Hi.

They are the ultimate gesture of apology, adoration, gratitude, sorrow, regard - you name it. They brighten any room, by bringing all that is fresh and alive indoors. They decorate nearly every celebratory event and all those that are for mourning or loss. They are vibrant and subdued. People even say that they have special meanings, each type or each color symbolizes more than what meets the eye. And apparently every girl should have a favorite.

Frankly, I didn't figure out mine until the last year or so, and really, there isn't just one... and even then I can't be bothered to say those are the only favorites I have.

Lowest of the Low

Hi.

It's something that you feel to your bones: something that vibrates through your cartilage, tendons, and muscles - that makes your adipose tissue hum. Slow and lumbering, yet somehow essential, it adds the extra layer of depth and just depth in general.

It's the lowest of the low, the lowest of low registers.

Powerful Words

Hi.

In just about every fantasy novel you could have read, it seems that there is one unwavering law woven into the fabric of the world: the power of a single word, a name. It holds power over that which it labels - it describes any living or inanimate object - its essential definition.

A name. It is but a word, yet its value is more than we can comprehend. Not only is a name how we differentiate who and what we are, it can hold power over how the rest of the world will judge you. It follows the simple idea that any word or name holds more than one purpose or meaning, and we are slaves to these predetermined connotations held by the "other" party.

There is a burden that comes with naming something or someone. For once you have bestowed the word upon said focus, it in a way becomes permanent. After you have provided the name, you no longer control the destiny of that which you have given birth to. You can only hope to have a chosen a name that will not be ridiculed or disrespected - hope that it will not be twisted into a grim or faded version of its origin.

So when given the role of the namer - or creator - of a new existence, I find my mind blank, unable to engineer one word to completely define it.

Snap. Crackle. Pop.

Hi.

It's all around you. The signs are everywhere. Hesitant green amid the cold earth. Breezes caress, no longer biting. A litany of high pitched trills - at every hour of the day. Sunlight now bathe worthy. The thunderous cracking of ice disrupting months of silent nature. Change has come.

It should come to no surprise. As it does every year, when the orbit of the earth brings the sun closer to the northern hemisphere, nature seems to wake bringing a fresh new start - bringing forth crowds of new life from the remains of old, almost a mockery of those that slumbered to no longer wake. Surrounded by the budding flowers, beautiful whimsical weather, and the masses of people recharging depleted sun quotas, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It seems almost morbid of me to think so. Most I know take an optimistic stance wishing for the weather to stay on its current path. I scoff that their naive ideas - it's yet too early. I mourn the buds which have eagerly flourished with the loss of frost. I look to others and admonish, you'll regret putting the winter gear in storage. I know; I have experienced. It will not last.

It brings me to wondering, despite the evidence of years past, could I be misplacing my judgment? Am I really questioning the fate of the weather, or am I skeptic to more? Have I been looking at myself and doubting the assertions and conclusions I've made myself? Could they all be just as misleading and hope-crushing as a false spring?

It is unique that so many of us hold such an pleasant foreshadow with the weather, but when making or observing the personal changes around us, there is always a shock or disbelief and wonder at any success. Have we as humans faced such lapse in positive change that at the mention of a new resolution, doubt colors our thoughts despite any support we may vocalize?

It is not that I object to the rightful place of pessimism in this world. I merely wonder when the optimism leaked out of our sight. Could it be the gradual decay of our child-like naivete till we all end up the shriveled old men, yelling at the glimmer of happiness?

It would be a sadness - no a tragedy. For without change, it would be indeed a mad, mad world.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4

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