When I was a child, I used to sit on my bed and pretend I was the Childlike Empress.  I would sit Indian-style and twist the sheets and blankets on my bed, layer by layer, in an upwinding spiral around my lower half.  I would tie a ribbon around my forehead like a tiara and pretend I had the Auryn around my neck.  I would bestow wishes and grant adventures and smile benignly, all safe and snug in my cozy wrappings.  I reminisce about such times.

Still, as an adult, I don’t generally feel the need to wrap myself in a cocoon.  I may have a lazy day under blankets or in pyjamas occasionally, but that’s not quite the same thing.  Even if I did, I doubt I would imagine myself as some god or religious figure in my swaddlings.  Looking like I’m dressed in a tarp no longer has the same appeal. Perhaps this is a loss of innocence spawned by the onset of puberty, but generally I see it as an advantage fo adulthood.

To close, I give you another post on adult-type wrappings, a.k.a the Snuggie.

The only wild animal I know is man.

moray eel by Jenny (JennyHuang)

I would choose a moray eel, which everyone thinks are vicious. Really, they're just deficient in two or more senses – they can't see or smell well and therefore occasionally bite the hand that feeds them. My particular moray would be name Morey and I would set up a whole little swimmy paradise in one wall of my apartment for him. He would occasionally poke his creepy little face out at me when he wasn't feeling shy, or to scare off intruders. I would stock his tank with cheap but tasty fish and therefore avoid getting my fingers getting bitten off.

The Boxer

“Behind items, there are people” states Doron Ben-Ami of the Israeli Antiquities Authority, regarding various discoveries in Jerusalem in the past month, specifically a massive coin hoard in Jerusalem.  Now more recently a truly incredible marble head has been discovered.  What is incredible about it is not the Roman style of the figure or the representational nature of the form, but the size.  The detailed little thing is only 2 cm by 4 cm.  It’s the head of a tiny midget man.

There have been various notes about the rarity of such a find in such an area.  And the age of the statue is incredible as well – at least 1,800 years – even if we do have other more ancient rocks around touched and molded by human hands.  What remains incredible is the ‘story’ behind this particular rock.  How did the man who died in an earthquake come to possess it?  Do two holes in the figure really indicate that it was used as a suspended weight together with a balance scale?  Was this man really a boxer?  And if so, what did that indicate regarding the use of the object itself?  Was it passed down withing the family as a talisman of sorts, or did such little heads have another worth?  And who was the model for such an object, and Whit?

In defense of my vice: OR (Obsessive Reading)

Is it possible to have reverse ADD?

books in a stack (a stack of books) by Evan (austinevan)

It all started with my parents reading books to me as a kid. Soon I learned that books were good for more than just chewing on. it got to the point in my teen years where I was reading more than sleeping, and even now I read to the exclusion of everyone and everything around me.

When I get home, I kick my shoes off. Occasionally, I injure people.

There's no feeling like the release of letting your shoes fly. Once I accidentally flung a shoe off and hit a co-worker I couldn't see around a corner. I'm a very professional dame.

Feet need to breathe. Nothing beats the 'ahh' feeling of husking shoes and socks at the end of a long day.

Plink, Plink, Plink

Now that Plinky is officially online and spreading goodness, I am checking it out with vigor.  You should do the same!

Island Getaway

I hate the cold.   Well, perhaps that’s unfair to the Arctic north.

I really really really dislike the cold.  You would think, after spending most of my life in the northern Midwest and now living in Boston, I would have dealt with it and moved on.  But the dislike has lingered.  Every year, as the weather turns towards autumn, I get excited about the changing colors of the leaves and enjoy the briskness to the air without thinking about what all this change foreshadows – icy tundra time.

Instead, each year about this time I begin to pine for the tropics.  I ask myself (again) why I don’t live in Florida, or at least someplace a little more temperate.  This year in particular I’ve gone a little crazy.  I will be going on at least one trip to some international beach somewhere at an affordable price if it kills me.  I hope to go on two, or at least get as far as Florida for a little sun before the ice chills my veins completely and for all time.  A little sand, a little sun, a little ocean action would do me a world of good.

Unfortunately, despite dropping prices and the economic crisis, vacations remain expensive.  While looking for a way to get away, one co-worker suggested a cruise – affordable, food-packed, and generally an enjoyable experience.  But somehow for me, the appeal of lazing in the sun on a boat (albeit a giant luxury boat) does not have the same appeal that lying on the beach does.  Even a vacation on something small, like a sailboat, does not really meet my desires.  While it’s a picturesque image, I would end up spending most of my time off the boat, lazing on some beach or in some coastal town somewhere.  I like the waves rolling up on to the land, that experience of margins, rather than simply being near the water.

Perhaps that’s why the movable design of a ‘tropical island‘ doesn’t appeal to me.  Yes, this luxury ship may be wasteful or expensive or extravagant in a time of reduced income and expanded need.  But there’s more to it than that.  The allure of an island does not spring merely from being surrounded by water.  Every continent is surrounded by water – that doesn’t mean ever citizen of the world interacts with the vastness of the ocean.  Even living in a coastal city, I don’t get to experience that edge very often.

The tropical gardens, the pool, the elaborate quarters, aren’t what makes a tropical island beautiful or relaxing.  It’s the ability to wade down to the shore line, squishing your toes into the sand letting the ocean wave up on to you that matters.  When your movable island can give me that, I’ll consider buying it.  Until then, why not just buy a limo?

In Augur

Words amuse me.  They describe and explicate, they illumine and obfuscate at the same time, they dance at the edges of our perceptions and linger in our ears and slide away from our tongues and memories.  They are shy, devilish creatures and I love them, as they are a reflection of ourselves.

While speaking of yesterday’s events, I was reminded of our past as well as our future.  I sat for about an hour yesterday, listening to the prayers of two men, the oaths of two others, the artful voices of two women, and the combined music of a skilled quartet.  For me, the event was moving not only because I believe the speech of one man and his ability to help better our world, but also because the entire ceremony was couched in the language of a faith I share.  If I were a Muslim or a Jew, I think the ceremony would have meant less to me.  If I were a Hindu or a Buddhist or a non beleiver, I feel I would have missed something of the connection I felt to the event.  And while I do not begrudge anyone their own faith, it is sad to me that something I see as exciting and wonderous cannot always be shared with others.  What I feel is not always meaningful to the world.

The definition of the word ‘inaugurate’, according to the American Heritage Dictionary, is “to induct into office by a formal ceremony”.  It seems simple enough.  By this definition, even the induction of a Boy Scout troop leader is an inaugeration.  But the word coems from Latin, from roots involving the word ‘augur’, or foretelling.  It means literally ‘to consecrate by augury’.  In the past, those called augers were officials with a specific civic duty – to divine omens for the public, so that the future of the state could be secured through these predictions.  These officials were guides, directors to general public life, attempting to keep public interest aligned with the wishes and dictates of the gods.

It is interesting, then, that our new president sees himself as just such a guide.  It is interesting that in everything he does he calls on the American people for support, direction, strength, and duty.  It is interesting that he sees himself more as a guide to the people, a shepherd as the prophets of old, a warning from God to the people to mend their ways.  It is interesting to see, couched in the language of a far more recent orthodoxy, that same bent of prognostication and new, corrected direction for the country.  I look forward to observing just which omens might come true – whether an adulthood for our young nation, or a return to some other, former state.

Two little dips into the technology pool.

Yesterday I was fortunate enough to be able to watch the inauguration on television here in the office.  It was nice – speeches were powerful, prayers were meaningful, and artists showed off their respective arts to the delight of the public.  I enjoyed it.  In addition, it was short, which is always good for me.  If you can’t be succinct, what’s the point?

But the whole memorable occasion (and beleive, me, I think it will only grow more memorable with time) is further illuminated by changes already taking place in the office of the Presidency.  I’m speaking not just of the redress of wrongs, but also the opening up of the office of president through technology, specifically the whitehouse.gov website.  So far, so good.  It looks like it will do the job of passing on information to the public well, and the weekly video address idea is great (can we say Nixon?).  It seems that this guy knows what he’s doing, especially technology-wise.

Speaking of knowing what you’re doing, there’s Turn Here, the little advertising niche firm that evidently started out, not by knowing what it was doing, but by following a trend.  I want that.  I want to catch a trend and run with it.  Now, if I can just do so looking as stately as Obama at the same time, all will be well.

And now, the Goose Pilot may have had a faulty plane to begin with…

Check out the latest on the flight that crashed into the Hudson last week.  So maybe at least one engine on this plane was already prone to stalls?  Does that really just happen?  Or were the geese in the engine just incidental?

« Older entries