Gesundheit.

I love sneezing. Odd. I know. But it's just such a release. You're getting whatever crap that was bugging your nose out of your system, and you just feel good afterwards. Unless it's one of those series of sneezes that doesn't end quite right and you feel like you need to sneeze just once more but can't. That sucks. It's interesting too. I went onto Wikipedia (love that "non-scholarly" site) to look up how to spell "gesundheit" because I can't spell in English, much less in German, and I kinda glanced over the whole article. It talks about all the superstition and whatnot about sneezes and of course why and how a sneeze happens. It also has this old video clip from Thomas Edison's lab of a guy sneezing. Oh, Wikipedia.
Anyway, what caught my eye is this thing on the Photic Sneeze Reflex. Yeah, that's what it's called. A photic sneeze is that type of sneeze that makes you state that you are allergic to the sun, because nearly every time you step out into a sunny day, you sneeze. These kinds of sneezes are supposedly caused by a kind of nerve glitch.
But the cool thing is that, back in my high school days, some friends and I were having one of our typical pointless discussions (similar to those found on this blog; see below for details), and this one happened to be on the subject of sneezing as well. Somebody mentioned they sneeze whenever they walk outside into the sunshine, and I, and some other people there, said that it happens to us too, while others said it didn't.
Now, I had been recently studying genetics in one of my classes, and so I came up with this theory that sun allergies run in the family. And so the investigation of sun-sneezers and parent/offspring began, only to end about two or three days later due to lack of serious interest.
But now, all because of a nice relaxing sneeze, Wikipedia, and my unfailing curiosity, I stumbled upon an article all about the photic sneeze reflex, which is indeed genetic. It is an "autosomal dominant hereditary trait" and 15%-35% of the human population have ACHOO Syndrome, as it is also called.
And so now I know that my theory was correct and my sneeze nerves are all glitchy. Sweet.

Works Under Perpetual Construction

I have a lot of unfinished poems. Some of them even just one line. I guess there's a few one-liners that could stand on their own... Huh. Anyway, I was looking through a few of these and I saw this one that actually is on my blog post editor thingy saved as a draft. It is titled "I Didn't See the Sunset Today." Deep, eh? It's kinda cool though. It could mean that I'm too busy, too lazy, or just have my mind on other "more important" things than to go outside and watch the sun close the day. Yes, I completely understand, and am guilty of, not having the time or just not wanting/needing to go and watch the sun fade and how unrealistic it really is to do so everyday. But sunsets are pretty darn awesome. In the full meaning of the word. There is this one moment, right before the sun disappears behind the horizon of complete majesty. It makes me think of a line from another Switchfoot song, "Daisy." There is this line that contains the phrase "a beautiful display of power and surrender." Granted, this line is actually about the rain - well, actually about repentance, I think - but it makes me think of sunsets. It's that moment where the sun lets loose a final, brilliant display right before it yields to the night. That "power and surrender" right there is evident in almost every sunset I've seen. And it is only for a few seconds. You turn away and it's gone. All the bright contrasting golds, pinks, purples, reds, and yellows, are just gone; given in to the dull gray of dusk. Well, that's artistically depressing. But sunsets really are cool, and I definitely recommend watching one all the way through at least once in your life time; especially for that one spectacular moment. Sunrises are pretty amazing also, but I'm too much of a lazy night owl to wake up early enough. But the ones I have seen are so refreshing. Watching the world wake up and begin a new day is something you don't forget very quickly. That feeling of peace, renewal, and hope really sticks with you. I should start getting up earlier. Hmmm. Going to bed before 1:28 AM could be a good start.

"For Without a Song or a Dance What Are We?"

That is a line from ABBA's song, "Thank You for the Music." Them disco crazies were right. Thank you for the music. Thank you. What are we without music? Music is such a crucial part in pretty much every culture that is or ever has been on this earth. Music is what inspires us. Propels us. Even changes our state of mind. Music is so powerful. The scriptures even say that "the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto [the Lord]." So what about the songs that aren't of the heart; aren't of the righteous? That end result can't be good. We as human beings have this amazing ability to create. We make tools, think up games, craft art, and even just sit around creating little bubbles of deep thought. Also we create music. But you may have noticed, human creations aren't always the best. Same goes with music. There are many, many songs out there that are good and wholesome, but, especailly now and days, there are some very hollow and filthy songs. I'm not trying to bash anyone's songs, but really. What good does listening to someone chant to a beat about drinking and doing drugs, and spewing out swear words? Not only is that stupid and pointless, it also makes you feel terrible. Music is a mood setter. If you're listening to a soft and smooth piano solo, you're going to feel much more relaxed and calm than if it were a rock-pop-hip-hop rap screaming about a fickle girlfriend. Songs shouldn't be cranked out of some lyricist's head like it was a factory just there for the money. Music should be sung and played from the heart. Every song should have a story, every note a purpose. That is what I think makes a music artist an artist. So if music classifies us as humans, then I want to sing a prayer of thanks. Thank you for the music.

"Fear of Apathy"

Money sucks.
I'm sitting here taking a break from desperately scrabbling for scholarships, listening to "Bomb" by one of my favorite bands, Switchfoot. They have this line "With blankness staring back at me/Screaming from the pages/I feel the fear of apathy/Gripping me, pushing me/On top of everything." That's me right now.
I fear that I don't care and if I don't care, that's bad.
I have to care.
Oh, but I don't want to.
There's so many things so many people don't want to do. Finance and paper work are on the top of my list. It's just, blehaaw. You know?
Anyway, I just needed a break and to write this so I can kick my butt in gear and get crackin' at these scholarships I should have done back in December... But that's in the past. Huh, that's kinda funny. I am now listening to another of Switchfoot's songs, "This is Home," and I just heard a line "But I can't go back/Back to how it was/I believe you now/I've come too far/No, I can't go back/Back to how it was." Oh, irony.
Well, back to my scholarship search and goldfish crackers. I just need to stay away from apathy and get going. Wish me luck. I'll need it. :\
Oh, and to whomever actually reads this: don't eat yellow snow.

Pigeon Wings Against a Red Stop Light Beneath the Freeway Overpass on 53rd

Pigeon is spelled weird. You say it like "pi-gen" or if you're fancy, "pi-jon"; it's all really confusing. Then again, Americanized English is confusing, as are most Americanized things. Of course you have your "real"s and "reel"s, your "your"s and "you're"s, and the ever mistypened (no, that is not a word) "there"s, "their"s, and "they're"s. Then you have slang. Oh, bitter-sweet slang. And idioms, which I love, but usually don't get. Then there's figure of speeches, oxymorons (see above), and accents which are hard to write, read, and just plain understand. Wait, oxymorons are figures of speech. Meh.

"You Can Tune A Piano, But You Can't...

I love puns. Or wordplay in general. I've always liked laughing at intellectual jokes almost nobody else gets. There are a lot of those kinds of jokes, those and inside jokes; there are even more of those. Then there is that endless bounty of jokes nobody gets but you because it was your twisted mind that came up with a joke only you, or possibly someone with the same warped mind understands. It's even more depressing if you took a while to come up with it and nobody really gets it. Then you explain it to them and it's funny, but they don't laugh or just give you an airy pity laugh. You know that kind of laugh when someone sort of breathes a short sigh through their nose. Seriously. Almost everyone does some form of that type of laugh. What's even better is when people type "lol" in an "im," but really never laugh, and if they ever do they type "rofl" which is weird. Or they laugh and don't type it; their probably laughing at the person they're talking, err, texting, to. That's why I don't like texting. You can't even hear the person's voice you're talking to! You can barely emphasise anything, and what you think is a snappy sarcastic comment could be taken as a very rude insult. Even phones take away from a conversation. Meh. Society. What hast thou become? So back to the title up there. It is from an old vinyl record I saw in my closet of endless-random-trinket-ness. So ...Tuna Fish."

Sorry, It's Not a Screamo Song

`````````````````````````````````````
Ode to the Shiny Shoes

Guardians of the late-night runners
Leaders of fashionable wares
Distraction of short attentions
And muse of the easily amused

If I Lived in a Small Village, I Would Definitely Carry Produce in My Pocket

That is what a girl from my ward said while watching "The 10th Kingdom." It's an interesting show about golden dogs and shoes...and fish. And of course, sheep. That's where the "if I lived in a small village, I would definitely carry produce in my pocket" came from. A werewolf was on trial for killing a shepherdess and (although he didn't kill anything but some chickens) was found guilty by a jury of sheep. So the villagers threw veggies at him. Yeah, weird show. Okay for its time though, and entertaining, all 14 (ish) hours of it. But it is kind of odd how in every 17th century film, or dark ages at that, if there is ever an angry crowd, they always have torches, pitchforks, and produce, usually rotten. Then it shows those poor beggars starving on the dirty streets. Couldn't they have given them the produce before it got all rotten? Seriously. And sometimes it is fruits and veggies not even around that place at that time! That reminds me of the banter of the sparrow. You know, from "Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail." The two peasants debate over whether or not a coconut could migrate, or if birds, particularly sparrows, could carry one across seas. Then it goes on about African or European and ends up killing a dude later in the movie. Good ol' British humor. You know, that reminds me of something else. "Stardust." Freakin'. Awesome. Movie. If you haven't seen it, stop reading this and go see it. Now. Stop. Really. I will give you a dollar to go see it. Stop reading. No? Fine.... Ha! Crap....



~ <- squiggle =]

The Darker Side of Butterflies

There is one. They just flutter about and land lightly on lilies, mocking you. They think they're just so perfect and beautiful, but they're not.... I just realized that on the post options bar, there is no underline. That's weird. Maybe they're trying to get people to actually italicize. Wow. Who are they though. "They" is sort a vague word. It really could mean any group of people or - in its more commonly thought-to-be-the-correct-use meaning - anyone...whoa. That was a bit off subject. Hmm. Well, I've gotten this far off, I guess I'll banter on about nothing more. Like lettuce. Or bears. Black bears. I like black bears. They're cool. I saw one just last week in the zoo, three in fact. Ooo, you know what's a creepy musical? "Little Shop of Horrors." I saw it with my sister awhile ago (crap, my sister is some how related to this and my last blog, that needs to end). I was scared. There's a giant plant. It eats people. Alive. Well, the first one wasn't alive, but he was still chopped up and that's gross. Really gross. Eww. Oh yeah, bears. Black bears. Actually I'll go on about lions. And buffalo. And crocodiles. They're all cool too. Why all of them? 'Cause I was watching "Weird, True, and Freaky" (the title really didn't fit this episode) and there was this herd of water buffalo, just chillin', and these three buffalo - a mom, dad, and baby - wandered off. They ran into a pride of lions that chased 'em down and caught the baby buffalo. Now, they were by a watering hole and, when the lioness caught the buffalo, both of them were flung into the water. The the pride of 5 or 6 lions was trying to drown the poor thing, and suddenly a crocodile comes up and grabs the baby buffalo. The two grassland predators fought in a bloody tug o' war and the lions won after a few suffering minutes. Then as the lions pulled the poor thing out, the herd of buffalo came back. They surrounded the lions and a couple went after the felines, one buffalo even threw a lion into the air (don't worry it landed on its feet...kind of). Finally, the lions gave up and left. The battered little buffalo was very shaken, but got right up and walked back to the herd. According to the show, the ranger who saw this, went back the next day and found no dead buffalo baby, so it must have survived; the little dickens. Anywho, you're probably expecting some corny moral to this story, but all I can say is "lucky little dude with a will to survive and fortune on its side." Or something like that.

What Is On the Bottom of Your Shoe?

What's on the bottom of your shoe? It's like one those I'll show you mine if you show me yours thing; something only you and those who you truly trust can know. Like gum. That's usually found under shoes, I guess. Sticky stuff, gum. Not many try to get it stuck but it finds its way onto your sole. You just have to scrape it off, but nobody wants to take that five minutes to do so. Then there's those little brass thumb-tacks. You know, there was that big fad of putting them on your tennis shoes so you would click everywhere you went. They're there for a reason though, and are always heard - whether you want to be serenaded by that endless clicking or not - but you don't know where the sound is coming from. Let's not forget mud and miscellaneous objects that find the bottom of your shoe fitting as a snug abode. The scars of wandering. In case your not as random as I am, or like turning stupid phrases into philosophical theories that either make you think "wow" or "stop reading this, it's stupid (or doesn't make any sense)" as I do; I'll walk ya through my train of thought. My sister had a piece of tape stuck to her shoe awhile back and so I asked her "what's on the bottom of your shoe?" She responded with, "what's on the bottom of your shoe?" Shut down, I began to think of one of those stupid-phrase-theories and thought of social crap on your shoes. So like the gum is something you have said and/or done you haven't made amends for, or that science project due in two days...oh crap.