Morning Glory

So, I woke up at 7:30 a.m. this morning. Now, I realize that for many of you this may be a common practice, and may even be a lifestyle preference. However, for those of us who work in the dark cavernous bowels of a spa, and who have a genetic predisposition to laziness, this time may as well be when Satan comes to Earth with legions of demons and proceeds to possess people’s souls. At least it would explain why so many people are grouchy in the morning.

Interestingly, however, what I do find when I’m fortuitously awoken around this time, is that I am amazingly productive. I know, I know, how more paradoxical could I really be? Lazy and productive. Talented and unmotivated. Look, I don’t make the rules, and quite frankly, I had nothing to do with the ingredients that make up this tall cup of enigmatic, sexy, chocolate, deliciousness…I just play the game like everybody else. 


In any event, life is not without its little ironies. That's what makes it all worthwhile right? So, in the truest fashion of blatant epiphanies, I realized that midnight may not be my muse after all, but her sister who I call the Dawn Duchess. Not as fickle or as mischievous as her sultry twin, the Duchess apparently keeps inspiration in her back pocket like a folded twenty you find after slipping on a pair of jeans before you go out. Pure awesomeness. I've cleaned, done laundry, had breakfast, scanned the headlines, birthed an idea for a poem, AND started this post all before the time I usually curse my alarm and wipe the sleep from my eyes. I feel energized and my hands are a blur. I'm back in the saddle baby! Well, at least until my espresso wears off... 

Wall Street

Extortion – (noun) the act of securing money, favors, etc. by intimidation or violence; blackmail.

As I entered my local grocery store, I noticed a Hispanic couple huddled around the Red Box movie dispenser as if it were a campfire. The wife was in pajamas, with a bright pink, fleece blanket draped over her shoulders like a homeless person, speaking into a cell phone. I momentarily imagined her children on the other end, relaying whether or not they had seen particular titles.

After I had concluded my shopping for the night, I patiently stood in line, curiously surveying my immediate surroundings. The man in front of me kindly put the little plastic partition behind his food items, as if to invite me to unload my basket, and give my arm a reprieve (later, I would more appropriately guess that the man was putting the partition on the belt as if to say, I’m not paying for your food you poaching hoodlum).

As the cashier was totaling the man’s purchase, he asked the shopper if he would like to donate to people with disabilities. At hearing this, the man scoffed and berated the boy for extorting money out of him. The cashier innocently claimed that he was told to ask all the guests for such a donation, while the old man angrily grabbed his bags and scurried off into the night.

When it was my turn to be extorted, I happily volunteered the requisite dollar, and smiled at the kid who was still a little shaken after the interaction with the man who hates the handicapped. I thought about the grocery store showdown as I left, passing the couple still hogging up the movie rental machine, oblivious to the idea that someone else may want to rent a movie. I thought about the oppressive, extortionist, regime we have as our government, and how wonderful life may be if only thousands had sacrificed their lives to ensure that their descendants could live in a time where they were free enough to simply say no to people asking for money.

Personally, I’m thankful that the pet store, and grocery store ask me for donations. I find it convenient that helping others can be so easy. To be completely honest, if they didn’t ask, I probably would never find the time to do it on my own. I can see where people might feel as though being asked in public can be uncomfortable, or even inappropriate, but it is hardly extortion. On the other hand, using intimidation techniques in order to use the movie kiosk had definitely crossed my mind.

Despicable Me

Being a massage therapist has its major inconveniences, such as having to be extra careful handling everything from kitchen knives to post it notes. One false move can put you in a finger condom for a week, and let’s face it, nobody likes condoms. As active as I am, I always suffer from inevitable cuts, scrapes, or jammed fingers, and finding creative ways to work around ailing digits can be a nuisance.

So, needless to say, I occupy a
meaningless existence, missing 
out on the finer experiences in life such as opening beer bottles with my bare hands, picking up broken glass, pyrotechnics, and carpentry. However, I do take full advantage of crushing aluminum cans on my forehead. For all intents and purposes, the world is virtually a string of insidious booby traps, not unlike the one those teenagers in Final Destination had to maneuver through in order to survive.

Facing eminent death at every turn is not a foreign concept to me, considering that I watch way too many movies moonlight as a ninja, but not even we can escape the cold and vengeful grasp of irony. While playing basketball this morning, I was being extra mindful not to jam my thumb for the third time in 3 weeks, only to sprain my ankle after stepping on some Neanderthal’s foot. It truly is a travesty to see a specimen of my athletic prowess to be reduced to gingerly limping through the pet store carrying a 35 pound bag of dog food. Not only that, you become painfully aware of how you take dorsiflexion for granted until you have to sit on the toilet, or drive to work in traffic. So glad I could amuse you Universe...at least I won’t have to wear a condom.

Has it really been a week?

It’s Haiku Wednesday bitches! Hmmm…I wonder if that configuration of words has ever existed prior to today…Forgive my elation; I was momentarily possessed by Eminem. Anyway, yall know what time it is...So, without further ado:

Today is Wednesday,

I had to be reminded.

Ginseng is costly.

Put down your phone or,

you will not enter my lane.

How quickly birds fly.

Just got a new phone.

I think I have arthritis.

I am appdicted.

I had tea with death.

The toll of knell rang softly.

Her black carriage waits.

Words are my one solace.

My mind is the soul’s canvas.

Paintings never cease.

Bonzai Daniel-san

Hey, it’s Haiku Wednesday! Well, okay, maybe I just made that up. Fine, maybe someone else suggested it, and then I created it. Does it really matter who in the  

Hey everyone, it’s Haiku Wednesday! I had this great idea come to me, and I thought I would share with you some Haiku. Nothing fancy….just something to put on the blog since I have people hounding affectionately reminding me to update it. I do have a few things in the works: short stories, poems, book reviews, and some random musings, however, I know how some of you like to intermittently hear my voice (and I suppose I should be more disciplined with writing everyday as well) I do not protest, I just don’t always like what my fingers type….I’m such a diva….or a perfectionist. I could be bipolar…I’ll take Haiku Wednesday for $200 Alex…

My dog is creepy.

He sits and stares at me.

I wish he could drive.

I love basketball.

My soul rejoices and sings.

My thumb is swollen.

The Rain is lovely.

Each drop fills my heart with joy.

The weatherman sucks.

The spider pulls close,

The corners of her device.

The prism deceives.

Raven and the moon,

Whisper deep into the night.
The wind's breath is cold.

Pinocchio's Wish

For the majority of my adult life I can honestly say that I’ve never really known what I wanted. Well, with the exception of a few things like wanting to fall in love, obtain wisdom, and become a ninja, I have always known that I want to go back in time and be seven again, when there was never a doubt about what I wanted.


At seven, I wanted to build forts, climb trees, ride my bike, pretend I was a soldier, an eagle, or a cheetah. I was really fast. As a matter of fact, the only person faster than me was my best friend Robert. We had Big Wheels and would pretend we were the motorcycle cops in that show CHIPS. We would spend hours setting up hundreds of plastic army soldiers, and then take turns shooting at each other’s forces with rubber bands. I used to love the soldier with a parachute, and the one who was thrusting his rifle forward with the bayonet attached. I thought the flamethrower guy was pretty cool too. You have to be incredibly brave to strap canisters filled with gas to your back. My curfew was when it got dark. Sometimes I would realize that it was getting late, and I would race the darkness home on my bike. Sometimes I won, sometimes my Mother would have to remind me that I needed to win more often.

I always wanted chocolate milk, my Dad’s grilled cheese sandwiches, his pancakes, and pumpkin pie. I enjoyed travelling with him too. We had a game we would play in airports where we would try to guess where people were from and what language they spoke. He would make me practice signing my name. On the way to school, I would read the newspaper to him while he drove, and we would listen to Paul Harvey on the radio. We used to go to the local swimming pool where they played 80’s music and my dad knew all the people who worked there. They all admired him and it made me admire him too. I loved swimming and I wanted to be a dolphin. I wanted water not to go up my nose when I swam upside down. I wanted to find buried treasure, and turn cardboard boxes into space ships that would take me to the moon so I could walk on it. I wanted to watch my dad coach sports, take me to ball games, and have him unfog my snorkeling mask at the beach.

I wanted to be next to my mom every breathing moment. I wanted her to tell me things would be okay when I came home with fresh wounds. I wanted to hear her voice, whether it was reading me a story, or just talking. I wanted to go with her to church, or the orphanage where she found me, to bring things for the children who hadn’t found their angel yet. I wanted to cry when she left, I wanted to feel like she could rearrange the cosmos, which she could. I wanted her not to die. I wanted to take her place. I wanted to see her one last time.

Unfortunately, I’ve had to let go of all these things. In their place, there is one thing that I know I currently want. I celebrate these moments, because they do not come often. I hold onto them like a child does his first sea shell, and I pursue them relentlessly. Now, what I want more than anything is to be able to write great stories. I want to be able to breathe life into characters who laugh and cry, tell bad jokes, and dress badly. I want people to believe in their causes, worry for their safety, and hate the villains who thwart their success. I want them to hate their parents, want children of their own, have their hearts broken, and find true, unconditional, unbridled, and unceasing love. I want them to have dreams, missions, dates, sex, and high school reunions. Most of all, I want them to know what they want. 

Commercial Mania

Don’t know how many of you watched the Super bowl this year, but I was one of the alleged 111 million viewers. I am a devoted football fan and even though my team didn’t make the big game, I was still thrilled at the idea of getting to hang out with family and see the final grid iron match of the season. The super bowl is also a great opportunity to watch some witty, humorous, and imaginative commercials, of which I am also a huge fanatic. Unfortunately, the game wasn’t as entertaining as we all expected, but we did have the commercials to look forward to. In fact, most of the time was spent eating, talking, and playing with my nephew, stopping only to shush each other prior to a commercial breaks.

Of all the commercials that we saw, 3 in particular elicited boisterous laughter: A Dorritos ad, in which the chips were used to revive dead things,  a Bridgestone one that showed a guy who thought he had accidentally emailed everyone in his office, and subsequently drove all over the place systematically destroying everyone’s computers. (He even yanked out all the cords in the server room) Hysterical, and the third was a bud light commercial about a movie director who’s told that he’d get free stuff with product placements in his movie. I've included them here so you don't get sucked in to a mind-numbing vortex of sneezing pandas and laughing baby videos on youtube. (don't judge) Enjoy.

                                          


Oh, almost forgot. I really liked this next one too.