i have every reason in the entire universe to be the biggest BITCH today.
but i choose to rise above my trials.
i have every reason in the whole of corporate america to be an ASS HOLE this very minute.
but i choose to be the stronger employee.
i have every right in the world to be PISSED OFF BEYOND BELIEF as i write this.
but i choose to let my irritabilities disapperate.
i choose to take a deep breath, recognize that some things you just can't control, remember that everyone is allowed their opinion, that everyone makes mistakes, that sometimes the best thing to do is walk away, that silence is truly golden, that gossip ultimately hurts someone, and that this evening holds the promise of a warm and cozy bed for me to rest in at which time i can let this day finally fizzle away into mere memories in my mind.
30 November, 2006
27 November, 2006
jesus is NOT the reason for the season
from healinghappens.com:
"Yule (~ Dec 21) marks the longest night of the year -- the triumph of the dark half of the year. Night and darkness have reached their apex and the Wheel turns to restore balance. The dawn heralds the return of the sun, bringer of light, warmth, and growth. In the days following Yule, the sun’s power grows steadily, encroaching upon the night, pushing back the darkness.
"The darkness of this longest night holds many lessons. One of the most powerful is the awareness that hope and light spring forth from deepest darkness. Here, indeed, is the message “that the darkest hour comes just before the dawn”. As we wait quietly in the darkness, we honor the stillness and the mystery of the night, and light the Yule log to summon the sun’s return. In the summoning of the sun, we work in partnership with Nature to preserve balance. Similarly, when faced with difficult challenges in our lives, we are partners with the Universe in manifesting hope out of despair."
it no wonder that early christians grabbed onto the sacred pagan holiday of yule. the very holiday itself focuses on the darkness of the earth and the approaching sun. christian's around the world use this sacred sacred pagan holiday and bastardize it by inserting their own god in it's place. jesus is the "sun" that breaks through the longest dark night of humanity. on christmas eve they sit in darkness (as pagans still do while celebrating yule a few days earlier) and await the "sun" of god to appear to slowly bring light to a [spiritually] dying race of man.
jesus, my friends, is NOT the reason for the season... jesus unfortunately lost his true birthday to a race of god-seeking men who couldn't stand the fact that someone believed differently than they did.
it's a shame, really...
"Yule (~ Dec 21) marks the longest night of the year -- the triumph of the dark half of the year. Night and darkness have reached their apex and the Wheel turns to restore balance. The dawn heralds the return of the sun, bringer of light, warmth, and growth. In the days following Yule, the sun’s power grows steadily, encroaching upon the night, pushing back the darkness.
"The darkness of this longest night holds many lessons. One of the most powerful is the awareness that hope and light spring forth from deepest darkness. Here, indeed, is the message “that the darkest hour comes just before the dawn”. As we wait quietly in the darkness, we honor the stillness and the mystery of the night, and light the Yule log to summon the sun’s return. In the summoning of the sun, we work in partnership with Nature to preserve balance. Similarly, when faced with difficult challenges in our lives, we are partners with the Universe in manifesting hope out of despair."
it no wonder that early christians grabbed onto the sacred pagan holiday of yule. the very holiday itself focuses on the darkness of the earth and the approaching sun. christian's around the world use this sacred sacred pagan holiday and bastardize it by inserting their own god in it's place. jesus is the "sun" that breaks through the longest dark night of humanity. on christmas eve they sit in darkness (as pagans still do while celebrating yule a few days earlier) and await the "sun" of god to appear to slowly bring light to a [spiritually] dying race of man.
jesus, my friends, is NOT the reason for the season... jesus unfortunately lost his true birthday to a race of god-seeking men who couldn't stand the fact that someone believed differently than they did.
it's a shame, really...
19 November, 2006
christmas time in the city
the park that my apartment looks over has been covered in gorgeous christmas lights. the glow makes my entire apartment glow but it's well worth it... i love christmas.
here's some pics... they're not too clear cause i'm a stupid-camera-person who can't figure out my stupid camera. oh well = )
pics!
pics too!
here's some pics... they're not too clear cause i'm a stupid-camera-person who can't figure out my stupid camera. oh well = )
pics!
pics too!
11 November, 2006
the old man and the sauce
ok... THIS story is quite possibly the highlite of my life. really.
picture it, chicago, 2006. i'm on the red-line train heading south to my hotel (notice how all the good stories are on the train?). i'm surrounded by drunk kids dressed-up for the myriad of halloween parties in the city. on the last bench in the train there is a bum. he's alone on his bench and has about five pairs of pants on, each one pulled down slightly farther than the next reaching all the way to his knees. he has an american flag and a bottle of hot sauce. yes, hot sauce.
he has three teeth that are visible and is mumbling to himself. noone wants to stare so we mind our own business and take glances at him when we get the chance. my diversion: a book. believable and easy to look over the top edge without being obvious.
there is a rustling in the train so i look up. everyone is staring at the bum who has taken the cap off of his hot sauce and has proceeded to shake it onto the train floor in a large arching circle around him... ALL the way around him. he finishes his strange ritual by sprinkling a bunch on the empty seat next to him. put hot sauce cap back on... sit back with flag and continue mumbling.
um... ok. i can deal with this... back to the book.
another rustling. look up. this time the bum is drinking hot sauce directly out of the bottle. he smacks his lips like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. then he looks out the window and lets out a blood curdling scream. he just screams and screams. any decent human would be concerned for the guy, but the rest of us ass-holes on the train look at him and start laughing. a kid hands him a cigarette and a lite. the bum lights up and starts smoking. THIS, of course, is funny too because it's illegal to smoke on the train.
soon enough, as probably could have been guessed, the hot sauce comes out again as the bum sprinkles it on his cigarette. finally someone speaks to him and says, "that's good stuff, huh?" to which he says "yeaaaaaahhhhhhh."
case solved: hot sauce is good.
life goes on until the bum's index finger all of a sudden points up in the air dramatically as both the bum and all the rest of "us" stare at it, wondering what it's going to do next. the finger goes around a little bit making a track in the air and then breaks sequence suddenly and plunges into a big pool of hot sauce on the floor of the train. it was HILLAROUS watching everyone's eyes follow this "bouncing ball" all over the place and then suddenly land on the hot sauce puddle. the finger stays in the puddle as all of just stare. then, ever so slowly, the finger rises up and goes straight into... yeah... the bum's mouth. he smacks his lips yet one more time and says "ahhhhhhhh."
thinking things couldn't get any better for a blog posting, he then pulls out a welfare-ish check and starts to write all over the back of it with his pen. some guy on the train stopped him to tell him to only endorse it on the top but the bum yelled at the kid and said that he was just writing his name. without warning the pen's tip goes straight into the air and nose dives straight into the same puddle of hot sauce on the ground that the finger was in not five minutes ago. the pen stays in the puddle for a while before slowly being lifted back to the check to write his name more times on the back with "hot sauce ink."
i'm about to say i really like this guy, till he pulls out a large poster of queen nefertiti (yeah, the egyptian one) and starts to scream on top of his lungs about how the white man fucked her over and how she's got screwed and such.
cue the "i don't like him any more... he's just CRAZY now" music.
i mean... how crazy can you get? the white man screwed over queen nefertiti??? man oh man... nothing's crazier than that.
geeze louise...
picture it, chicago, 2006. i'm on the red-line train heading south to my hotel (notice how all the good stories are on the train?). i'm surrounded by drunk kids dressed-up for the myriad of halloween parties in the city. on the last bench in the train there is a bum. he's alone on his bench and has about five pairs of pants on, each one pulled down slightly farther than the next reaching all the way to his knees. he has an american flag and a bottle of hot sauce. yes, hot sauce.
he has three teeth that are visible and is mumbling to himself. noone wants to stare so we mind our own business and take glances at him when we get the chance. my diversion: a book. believable and easy to look over the top edge without being obvious.
there is a rustling in the train so i look up. everyone is staring at the bum who has taken the cap off of his hot sauce and has proceeded to shake it onto the train floor in a large arching circle around him... ALL the way around him. he finishes his strange ritual by sprinkling a bunch on the empty seat next to him. put hot sauce cap back on... sit back with flag and continue mumbling.
um... ok. i can deal with this... back to the book.
another rustling. look up. this time the bum is drinking hot sauce directly out of the bottle. he smacks his lips like it's the best thing he's ever tasted. then he looks out the window and lets out a blood curdling scream. he just screams and screams. any decent human would be concerned for the guy, but the rest of us ass-holes on the train look at him and start laughing. a kid hands him a cigarette and a lite. the bum lights up and starts smoking. THIS, of course, is funny too because it's illegal to smoke on the train.
soon enough, as probably could have been guessed, the hot sauce comes out again as the bum sprinkles it on his cigarette. finally someone speaks to him and says, "that's good stuff, huh?" to which he says "yeaaaaaahhhhhhh."
case solved: hot sauce is good.
life goes on until the bum's index finger all of a sudden points up in the air dramatically as both the bum and all the rest of "us" stare at it, wondering what it's going to do next. the finger goes around a little bit making a track in the air and then breaks sequence suddenly and plunges into a big pool of hot sauce on the floor of the train. it was HILLAROUS watching everyone's eyes follow this "bouncing ball" all over the place and then suddenly land on the hot sauce puddle. the finger stays in the puddle as all of just stare. then, ever so slowly, the finger rises up and goes straight into... yeah... the bum's mouth. he smacks his lips yet one more time and says "ahhhhhhhh."
thinking things couldn't get any better for a blog posting, he then pulls out a welfare-ish check and starts to write all over the back of it with his pen. some guy on the train stopped him to tell him to only endorse it on the top but the bum yelled at the kid and said that he was just writing his name. without warning the pen's tip goes straight into the air and nose dives straight into the same puddle of hot sauce on the ground that the finger was in not five minutes ago. the pen stays in the puddle for a while before slowly being lifted back to the check to write his name more times on the back with "hot sauce ink."
i'm about to say i really like this guy, till he pulls out a large poster of queen nefertiti (yeah, the egyptian one) and starts to scream on top of his lungs about how the white man fucked her over and how she's got screwed and such.
cue the "i don't like him any more... he's just CRAZY now" music.
i mean... how crazy can you get? the white man screwed over queen nefertiti??? man oh man... nothing's crazier than that.
geeze louise...
09 November, 2006
the train of death, part due
on friday i met up with my friend nic who moved to chi-town a couple months ago. our goal: drink and eat and drink.
our first stop was the hancock building. NOW... you can pay $15 or something like that to visit the observation deck on the 94th floor OOORRR you can take a free ride up to the 96th floor and drink at their awesome restaurant/bar/lounge up there... now... which would you choose? paying $$$ for screaming kids and tourists or paying $$$ for drinks HIGHER than the tourists, with a BETTER VIEW than the tourists, and a much more suave atmosphere??? you choose.
anyway, nic and i had to take the red line train north of the loop to get to the building so we jumped on a train and LIKE A FUCKIN' BRICK WALL we were on the GD train of death AGAIN!. i, being way more obnoxious about it this time, said "this fuckin' train??? i was on this damn train last night!" to which nic replied "JESUS, i was on this train yesterday afternoon." so we looked at each other and said "fuckit" and moved into the other train.
i can't tell you how proud i was that i stood up for myself (and said "fuck" so proudly and loudly in a public place). i was beaming while the other stupid lemmings stayed behind and watched nic and i sneak through the "emergency" doors into the train behind ours. only one or two people followed us, and the train was way fuller than when i was on it the night before.
when we got on the other car everyone looked at us and started laughing. yeah... most of that car had crammed into it as refugees from the train of death.
and there, folks, is a story of one man's maturation from lemming to leader. well, more like loud-mouthed-show-off-leader *grin*
our first stop was the hancock building. NOW... you can pay $15 or something like that to visit the observation deck on the 94th floor OOORRR you can take a free ride up to the 96th floor and drink at their awesome restaurant/bar/lounge up there... now... which would you choose? paying $$$ for screaming kids and tourists or paying $$$ for drinks HIGHER than the tourists, with a BETTER VIEW than the tourists, and a much more suave atmosphere??? you choose.
anyway, nic and i had to take the red line train north of the loop to get to the building so we jumped on a train and LIKE A FUCKIN' BRICK WALL we were on the GD train of death AGAIN!. i, being way more obnoxious about it this time, said "this fuckin' train??? i was on this damn train last night!" to which nic replied "JESUS, i was on this train yesterday afternoon." so we looked at each other and said "fuckit" and moved into the other train.
i can't tell you how proud i was that i stood up for myself (and said "fuck" so proudly and loudly in a public place). i was beaming while the other stupid lemmings stayed behind and watched nic and i sneak through the "emergency" doors into the train behind ours. only one or two people followed us, and the train was way fuller than when i was on it the night before.
when we got on the other car everyone looked at us and started laughing. yeah... most of that car had crammed into it as refugees from the train of death.
and there, folks, is a story of one man's maturation from lemming to leader. well, more like loud-mouthed-show-off-leader *grin*
01 November, 2006
the train of death
i know many bad smells... MANY:
but when i got on the south-bound red-line train on thursday night i ran into an odor so hideous, so amazingly putrid, so beautifully evil that i could do nothing but think it had to be the one thing that i think i really don't know... dead human body.
i swear to all that is holy that someone died and rotted for at least seven and a half hours in that train car. i think the others in the train would have agreed w/ me too.
what did i do? did i go to a new car? did i sneak to the next train or just wait on the platform for the next train?
no... like a fuckin' lemming i sat on the train of death and covered my nose and mouth.
i can't tell you how many people got on the train and did the same as me... dumb asses. but the people i was the most impressed with were some drunk and VERY obnoxious kids that got on the train, spilled more expletives than i could even muster up (imagine that...) and at the next stop got out and ran up to the next train.
i have to say, i was very impressed with those kids and was pretty jealous that i hadn't stood up for my own nose and done the same.
- poop
- pee
- b.o.
- bad breath
- ass-rot
- rotton food
- slaughtered animals
- belly button lint
- vomit
- "asparagus" piss
- lesbian
but when i got on the south-bound red-line train on thursday night i ran into an odor so hideous, so amazingly putrid, so beautifully evil that i could do nothing but think it had to be the one thing that i think i really don't know... dead human body.
i swear to all that is holy that someone died and rotted for at least seven and a half hours in that train car. i think the others in the train would have agreed w/ me too.
what did i do? did i go to a new car? did i sneak to the next train or just wait on the platform for the next train?
no... like a fuckin' lemming i sat on the train of death and covered my nose and mouth.
i can't tell you how many people got on the train and did the same as me... dumb asses. but the people i was the most impressed with were some drunk and VERY obnoxious kids that got on the train, spilled more expletives than i could even muster up (imagine that...) and at the next stop got out and ran up to the next train.
i have to say, i was very impressed with those kids and was pretty jealous that i hadn't stood up for my own nose and done the same.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)