My life is just a blr...

Grin and Bear it

2009-05-30T19:42:00.003-06:00

it kills me
slowly

i can feel it

i'd call it a wound but in truth it was never
there
but the absence of it eats at
me
like a canker that
never

heals

so i scream and yell in my agony
but no one

hears
for my shouts are muffled by four walls of silence
and a smile that bars the only door
out

you think it would be
insincere

but it's not
which is the best
part
and I resent it for that
at times

so my grief echoes
in my stoic prison
and my ears ring
from my foolish mistakes

I hate what I hear

Words
that cause my heart to tremble

Thoughts
that spawn demons in my soul

They hurt

I'm tempted to ask the smile to
leave
so that I might open the door and find relief from these
demons

but deep down I know
I confess
that the unrestrained freedom
would do nothing to alleviate the pain

so the smile remains
and greets cheerfully all who come
to the door

Most walk away
happy to have met him
Some wait outside a while
but never ask to come in
Others never come near
thinking all is well
a Few even resent him
which makes me feel...

so I sit down and wait
with my hands on my ears
and my heart in a wrapped box next to me

waiting
with what I hope is patience
waiting
for what I do not know
waiting

I feel Someone come closer

I turn
and Someone sits next to me

Who let them in?
I heard no knock
Yet the door stands open
and its keeper grins back at me warmly

My friend pulls my hands
away from my ears
and I am greeted by

Silence

The demons are gone;
the echoes stilled.

My Friend's kind words
are all that I hear.

My newfound Friend
turns to the box,
opens it,
takes what little I have to offer
(without scorn nor malice),
and gives me a new gift,
although I don't know why.

And, taking me by the hand,
my Friend helps me up
and walks with me outside.

Phase

2008-11-18T23:20:00.001-07:00

I was born without a face (so I’m told)
and it is inappropriate to go outside without one.

So I have gone throughout life collecting masks
to cover the empty space between my ears.

Here is one I obtained years ago.

The mask of the student,
with a ponderous expression and unremarkable colors,
allows the wearer to learn without drawing attention.

Or how about this one?

The mask of the employee.
It’s a sturdy and reliable one. You see?
And reflected in the dutiful face are long hours of accomplished work.

Let me show you this,

the mask of the casual friend.
It’s covered in bright, pleasing colors and a smile, when it’s needed.
It generally lifts the heart, but often is not missed by many.

Then, there is this one,

the mask of the stranger.
Some might think it’s scary or perhaps a bit amusing,
but most don’t even give it a second glance.

This one is a little more familiar

and is the mask of the acquaintance.
Ironically, usually the biggest difference between this mask
and that of the stranger is the occasional obligatory greeting.

It is quite remarkable the number that I have
and my collection of masks only grows as time goes on.

The mask of the tenant,
which can only be rented and never owned.

The mask of the leader,
which is meant to inspire, but can also be cruel.

The mask of the follower,
which blends in easily with the masses.

The mask of the entertainer,
whose presence quickly fades away from memory.

The mask of the customer,
which some view as rather burdensome.

The mask of the man,
which is becoming increasingly less popular.

The mask of the needy,
which no one wants to see.

Some are made of steel,
others, of wood, cloth, silk, or glass

Each has its own design and color
And I have them all.

Some, I adore.
Others, I abhor.

Each has a special purpose
and I have used them all.

But every now and then I ask:
Are they really me?

No.

And yes.

Because each time I use one,
it leaves a piece of me behind.

Forever lost.

But not to me.

I see them.

2008-11-18T23:18:00.001-07:00

Don’t think I can’t.
You think you’re so clever
trying to hide it behind a half-smile
or a tip of your hat.

Don’t you get it?
I know what’s going on.
I might have even known it
before you did.

Do you still not know?
Don’t you even have a clue?
Let me sit down for just a moment
and spell it out for you.

Lies.

That’s it.

It’s really that simple.

What do you mean?
You honestly think I believe
that you have absolutely no idea
what I’m talking about?

It’s very easy.
I mean, you do it all of the time.
The glances, the waves, and the smiles
that never quite reach the eyes.

They all do it.
They try to hide what’s really there.
And I must applaud all of your hard efforts
because they work on most people.

But not me.
I know you too well.
I see right through it every time
you try to hide it.

How do I know?
It’s written on your face.
And if that wasn’t enough for you,
it shows in your eyes.

Listen to me.
I am not talking to you
about those pretty hues you have,
but something deeper.

It tells it all.
All of the deep, dark, secrets
and all of the words left unsaid.
It shouts them to the world.

It’s alright.
Just come out and tell me.
I really wish that you would;
you’ll feel better after.

I get it now.
It’s a matter of trust.
What if I told you truthfully
that I won’t judge you for being you?

It’s not enough
and I now understand the why.
It’s impossible for you to hide from me
that you’ve been hurt before.

So I’ll be patient.
I can wait here for you
and the day when you feel
you can trust again.

I’ve told you now.
Don’t be surprised anymore
about how I know what I know.
I have nothing to hide.

You told me
before you didn’t tell me
and I’ll tell you
that you can tell me

any thing

any time

any place.

Once you’re ready.

Clumsy Hands

2008-11-18T23:02:00.004-07:00

Life is a tapestry of color and experience,

but I confess that I was never good at sewing. It’s frustrating sometimes, (life, that is,) because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to thread the eye of the

storm is upon me, giving me a moments’ grace before it blows everything I love away, up into the sky, over the bay, and into the deep blue

see me sitting here on the sidewalk waiting for the postman like a child waiting for some cereal box prize. But, to tell you the truth, the postman is really a woman and the prize is just a

lie down here for a moment in the grass and watch the clouds go by with me. It makes me remember simple times and pleasures, and reminds me what is really worth living

four, wait, six letters lined up in a row: an A, S, E, two K’s and an M. One avoids me, one forgets me, one eats me, one needs me, one greets me, one sees me. All reject me, none get

mi, fa, so, la, ti,

do, or was it do? I do. I don’t. I didn’t. I won’t. Do what? Do nothing. Do something. Do this. Do that. Don’t step on the grass. Don’t talk to me. Don’t tell me what is wrong or

write your secrets on a piece of paper. Or better yet, tell them to a stranger, which is always easier to do than to tell those you care and love, and those who love and care for you in return. Why, you ask? Because

U turn at the next light. The street you need to turn down you can only reach by going a particular

weigh in before the match of your life. Of life. Throw up in the bathroom if you need to lose a bit more

wait a moment for the answer: you don’t have to lie to them. Their lack of understanding means you can tell the truth and they still won’t know enough to judge you or see your weaknesses and even if they do they will soon

forget-me-not is an interesting flower, more because of the name than the actual

flour, sugar, and vanilla I already have, but there are some other things that I
kneed him hard and I can tell it hurt. I would stop to help but I don’t have
thyme, parsley, and rosemary all smell funny, but are very important in
they’re owning up to what they did today. Which is a very good thing
two little boys play in the grass. One has a small rubber ball that is
blew big bubbles at home a few weeks ago. We did it by blowing
threw you a curve ball when I asked my question. Now you
ROFL. ngl, ppl srsly r w8ing 4 nthing. KWIM? LOL. BR
bee flew clear from the hive and stung the top of my
knows a lot, but not quite as much as you think he
wood, but it takes a while, so hammer down the
nails need to be clipped. I lost mine that my
ant went marching one by one, the little
won the prize, so why don’t you come
buy my stuff? I don’t want to be a
cell outside. I know that it isn’t
mine for gold. I’m right here,
but eye halve knot scene

The answer.

A monthly report and happenings from work...

2008-07-13T18:05:00.008-06:00

So, it's been a while since I last wrote, which is a little sad, but what can I do? The only time I even check my email is when I steal my roommates' computers for a bit (like I'm doing now), but no one's home, so they don't mind.

I have to confess that I'm not doing all that much this summer term. I mostly work, dance, go to economics, and sleep (but not necessarily in that order). Dance is going alright. I enjoy it more than anything, but this semester is showing me that I definately like to do the international style more than social dance. I find social dance so... boring. Maybe it's because it's not as exciting as some of the other routines that I've learned. I donno.

Economics is going well, too. I find myself sleeping though only part of it (which is a lot better than my stats class last term - I always slept through all of it) and the teacher is actually pretty entertaining, if a little spazzy at times (I was told she used to be on Divine Comedy). I also occasionally pretend to do homework in the class, which is good, too.

Work is work. For those of you who actually know me, you know that I can keep myself pretty entertained in just about any situation, and this job is no exception. I've actually accumulated some entertaining stories over these past few weeks that I'm going to share below.

The first, actually didn't happen to me, it happened to a coworker of mine, but I heard have of the conversation, and I thought it was pretty funny. It started when a woman who lives in the south, called in. It went something like this:

---------------

Coworker (I'll call her Lisa): So, ma'am, what can I help you with today?

Southern Woman (I'll call her Doris): I'll tell you what you can do! You can send someone out here to fix this darn system of yours!

Lisa: What happened?

Doris: Here I was getting ready for bed last night, and I set my doors, windows, and detectors. Then, in the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink, it started going off. It went BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP! and it nearly scared me to death!

Lisa: Ma'am, do you have a motion detector in your house?

Doris: Yes.

Lisa: Did you set the motion detector for the night?

Doris: Yes.

Lisa: Did you pass in front of it when you went to get a drink?

Doris: Yes, but I didn't want to hear the WOOOO WOOOO WOOOO WOOOO's!

Lisa (trying not to laugh): Well, you have to put in your master code so that it won't and you'll have to reset your system when you go back to bed.

Doris: You don't understand! There's something wrong with my system! It was going BWOOOP! BWOOOP! BWOOOP! BWOOOP!

Lisa: That was just your alarm going off when you walked in front of the detector. If you would like, you can press the 'status' button and it will tell you if anything is wrong with your system.

Doris: No! I won't touch anything! I don't want to hear the WOOO WOOO WOOO's anymore!
Needless to say, this woman was more than a little scared by her alarm going off... :)

---------------

This next story was actually one that happened to me. I was actually making calls to people to try and resolve some former pending services that were made a little while ago. I eventually called the Jones family:

---------------

Me: Hello, this is Brenton with Platinum Protection, am I talking to Mr. Jones?

(Woman's voice): Oh mumblemumblemumble Ray mumblemumble minute mumble

(Man's voice): mumble mumblemumble.

Me: Hi, this is Brenton with Platinum Protection, how are you?

(Man's voice): mumblemumblemumblemumble...

Me: You called us a few days ago and spoke to one of our agents here and told them that you were having some problems with your system, so I was just calling you to follow up on that and see what we could do for you.

(Man's voice): System mumblemumblemumbly mumble.

Me: I'm sorry, I couldn't quite understand you, could you say that again?

(Man's voice): Mumble.

(Woman's voice in the background): Ray Mumble mumble mumblemumble mumbibily.

Me: I'm sorry, I'm still having a hard time understanding you.

(Man's voice): Mumble.

*click*

---------------

I guess they just didn't want to talk to me. Not audibly, anyway...

A new job, new stories...

2008-06-20T11:17:00.006-06:00

So, about a week ago, I started a new job at Platinum Protection, one of those security companies that people go to do summer sales for. I'm working in their call center scheduling, which I have to confess isn't totally exciting, because I would much rather work somewhere else teaching, but it pays pretty well, and I need to start working again.

One nice thing about call centers, though, is that you do get several interesting situations because you're calling and talking to all sorts of people in a variety of situations, which make for great stories sometimes. One entertaining thing happened the other day when I was making outbound calls to verify if some technitians had visited some people. One of the numbers that I called wasn't home, but the answering machine picked up and went something like this:

"Hello, you have reached John and Jevon. We have a way of making a person feel older, bigger, and more secure. We can build your confidence, and help you accomplish daily tasks in a way that leaves you complete. You are extremely important to us. You are special and can accomplish anything. There is nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it. John and Jevon. Motivational teachers. Today matters. You are now empowered."

I have to confess. I felt rather powerful for the rest of the day.

Fireflies

2008-06-05T20:34:00.012-06:00

Falling stars happen at night,
shooting across a hopeless sky,
lighting it with a brilliance,
that fills children's eyes with wonder.

Several travel towards me,
drawn by something I cannot see.
I look at them and I'm filled with desire.
I long for the feeling they bring.

Some come close and touch my hands,
filling them with light.
Their cool touch feels amazing
and fire runs through my veins.

Then, I see it.
One that is special and caught my eye.
I try to catch it with my right hand,
but it floats just beyond my reach.

Then, I notice.
That one already landed in my left.
I look at it and marvel at its beauty
and the future it can bring.

Oh what twisted webs we weave
with sewing thread and dental floss
that harden with time
and become unbreakable by mortal hands.

...and then you wonder
why I say what I do
but wait just a moment
and I will tell you.

You see, I can hold only one.

I want what my right hand has
but not what my left hand is trying to give me,
which is what my right hand once had
but what my left hand took from me.

So I have be careful
not to drop the starlight in my hands
that easily shatters into countless broken dreams
that fade from memory and turn to dust.

I've heard that noise before
so tragic, so piercing, so cold.
I never want to hear it again
but sometimes it seems that I have no choice.

So I sit and gaze into the night sky
and ponder on my predicament.
Of starlight and broken dreams
but I come to no conclusion.

These two are so similar.
So why do I want only the right?
I cannot say for sure,
but it's something that feels right.

I want to give the other back
but that is not my place.
It threatens to slip through my fingers
every time I try to return it.

So I sit and wonder,
staring at the sky.
Waiting for time to tell me
who, what, where, and why.

Brenton Sighted!

2008-05-12T12:17:00.004-06:00

Well, I was thinking the other day about how I haven't written in my blog for a while (about a month, apparently), so I decided to give a little update on how things have been going here: I decided to go to school for the spring term and probably the summer one, too, but that's not 100% sure yet. I'm still looking for a job at the moment, and also some roommates, apparently, because my apartment seems strangely empty no matter what time of day I'm here.

Speaking of roommates, I had a couple of funny experiences with one. Last Monday, Jeff, my roommate, and I were going to FHE in his little Tracker (which reminds me of another funny story). We were driving along, enjoying the beautiful weather, joking around, and having a good time. A stoplight in front of us turned red, so we slowed down to stop. As we did so, I hear this Celine Dion-esq music blaring from a car behind us. Curious, I look out to see who is doing such a strange thing at 6:30pm and I see this little white Honda pass us. The driver was a pocked-faced Latino man who had a huge tattoo on his neck and looked like he was a thug in some sort of inner-city gang. That was not the funny part. The funny part was that he was the one blasting Celine Dion on his radio, singing along really loudly and slightly off-key in a high falsetto voice. (I could hear him over his radio, which was a feat, believe me) The sight was so bazaar that it took me a minute to realize what I had just seen. I mean, in my mind it's usually something like: Latino gang member + hip-hop, rap, guns, knives, etc. NOT Latino gang member + Celine Dion and really bad singing. Needless to say, I found this highly entertaining and Jeff and I had a real good laugh over it.

The other funny story that I was reminded of has to do with Jeff's tracker. I was walking home from class one day when I saw it in the parking lot with the top open... and completely full of clothing. I might be inclined to think that the clothing was his, and he was just taking it home to wash it, but the girl's pajamas and the lion slippers in the windsheild. Plus, it was ridiculously full of clothing. I'm not talking about just a little bit of clothing, but a lot. I don't think a person could have fit in there if they wanted to. As it turns out, a couple of friends decided to fill Jeff's car with clothing from the local DI bin and he was unable to use it for days. It was great.

Another random thought: Jeff and I the other night were talking in his room when I turned and spotted a megaphone that belonged to another roommate lying nearby. I looked at Jeff and dared him to sneak into the other room where another roommate and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch and start singing 'Kiss the Girl' with the megaphone. We stared at each other for a minute and then he grabbed it and started to sneak down the hall. I stood behind him and we sat there for probably another minute before he pressed the button, paused, and then started to sing, "...you know you wanna, kiss the girl! Shalalalalalala..." He then stopped and looked back at me and said, "Hey man, you're my backup vocals! Where are you?!" But the look on his face and on my other roommate's was so great - I was laughing too hard to sing.

So things have been rather exciting these past few days. They usually are when there are people around. In other news, I found a girl's driver's license on my windshield. I'm wondering if this is a new way to get people to ask you out. I say this because her address is in my apartment complex, so I don't know if she wants me to return it to her personally because she "lost" it. The awkward thing is that if this is a new way to trick people into visiting your apartment, I already know more about her than she probably wants me to know (i.e. weight... etc.) so that could be potentally awkward...

A yougoogooley for my Nuskin job

2008-04-02T14:48:00.004-06:00

So today is my last day as an employee here at Nuskin and I have to say that overall, the job was pretty good. For those of you who may not know, I've been working these past six months as an agent in the Nuskin call center. More specifically, I've been working with the distributors that they have in Mexico and Venezuela. My job usually involves me sitting at a desk with a headset on in front of a computer just waiting until someone calls. While we're waiting, we're allowed to do homework, read, go on the Internet and other stuff like that. I can honestly say I've done more homework in these 6 months than I ever have before. That's also the reason why it seems like I'm always on facebook talking to people. I get lonely and bored (there's only so much homework you can do).

As I was saying, today's my last day and these last six months have been pretty good. I mean, it's certainly not perfect, but the overall experience has been nice. I've learned some very important things about life, such as: multi-level marketing is of the devil and should not exist as a way to run a business, people are probably not as smart nor as right as they think they are, and people will pay ridiculous amounts of money for soap and shampoo.

But I must say that my co-workers and some pretty entertaining experiences with some of the distributors have to be the two best parts about this job. That, and the fact that I won't have to buy shampoo and toothpaste for at least a year. So I've decided to include some of the more entertaining ones that have happened in this little eulogy for my job (and for the sake of those who don't know Spanish, I've translated the dialog for you all).

------

The first one I had was with a woman who called in to make an order for some products that she wanted. She was a nice, older lady and we had fun talking, but finally we came to the end where I had to give her an order number. Our conversation went something like this:

"Alright ma'am, so I have your order number ready for you. Are you ready to write it down?"
"Just a second... yes, I'm ready."

"Alright. Your number is 1,2,2,4..."
"1,2,2,4..."

"5,6,2,3..."
"5,D,2,3..."

"Oh, sorry, I must have told you the number wrong. It's 6 - not D. 5,6,2,3."
"D?"

"No, it's 6. Like the number 6."
"D? As in dedo?" (that's Spanish for finger)

"No, it's 6. As in the number that comes after 5--"
(interrupting) "Oh, so it's 5?"

"No, it's 6."
"D?"

"No, ma'am. It's a number. Six. Six. Siiiiiiiiiiix. You know, it comes after 5 and before 7?"
"...I don't understand."

"Hmmm... well, it's 6, as in: 1,2,3,4,5,6. The last number, you know?" (I almost wanted to say: "as in, not the letter D" but then I would have felt bad because she was such a nice little old lady, just a little hard of hearing.)

This conversation went on like this for literally 10 minutes or so, until I said the following:
"it's 6, as in 60, 65, 68"

Then she was like:"Oh 6. I get it."
(The worst part is, the number 6 and the letter D sound nothing alike, not even in Spanish)

------

I actually didn't get this call. The guy who did was Stephen, who used to sit right behind me. I happened to finish a call with a person when I heard him say:

"...so you mean to tell me that I, before I was born, flew around as a spirit and came to my parents and told them my name?"

"..."

"...right."

"So my kids will do the same thing to me before I have them."

"..."

"...right. What if I don't want to name them that?"

"..."

"...right."

You have to realize, half of the reason why this was so funny was because of the type of person Stephen is. He's pretty cool, but one of his characteristics that people notice first about him is his sarcasm and his dry, sarcastic humor. I talked to him after he was done with the call and he told me that a woman called who claimed that she was a type of prophetess. She then began to tell him about how she lived in a trailer park and told people's fortunes by using numbers. She then told Stephen's fortune using the same system and then tried to convince him that people choose their names before their born. Needless to say, Stephen didn't believe her, and if I'm not mistaken, I think she hung up on him.

------

Some people like to call at night. Some people like to call at lunch. Some people, like this woman who I was trying to put into our system, like to call when they're at parties or standing in the middle of a busy intersection:

Me: "Hello, my name is Brenton and thanks for calling Nuskin enterprises, how can I help you?"
(people shouting)
Her: "Hello? Hello! Hello!"

Me: "Hello, ma'am, my name is Brenton. How can I help you today?"
(long pause with sounds of cars passing in the background)

Me: "Hello, ma'am?"
(a noisy 2-cycle motorcycle passes by)
Her: "Hello? Hello! Hello! Who am I talking to?"

Me: "I'm Brenton, how can I help you?"
Her: "Ok, I need to sign myself up."

Me: "Alright, let me get a number for you real quick... alright. I have it. So, the number is V, E, zero, zero, zero, zero, six, six, five."
(Car honks)
Her: "What? Hello! Hello!"

Me: "Hello. I have the number that you need. It's: VE0000665"
(Someone starts yelling really close to her)
Her: "Huh? It's BI000065?"

Me: "No, it's VE000-"
Her: "Hello! Hello!" (More cars honking)

Me: "Hello. I'm still here. The number is-"
(people talking)
Her: "Hello!"

Me: "Ma'am, I'm still here - your number is VE0000665"
Her: "It's VI000065?"

Me: "No, it's VE and 665."
(Tires screech and a horn honks)
Her: "Hello? Hello!"

Me: "Ma'am. I'm still here. Your number is VE0000665"
Her: "You're speaking too softly and it sounds like you're far away. Speak up!"

Me: "Ok, your number is VE0000665."
Her: "BI65?"

Me: "No, it's VE0000665."
Her: "VE000065?"

Me: "665."
(music starts playing loudly nearby)
Her: "I don't her you hardly at all. Hello? Hello!"

Me: "I'm still here."

The call went on for about a half hour. I must confess that I prefer when they're calling from a party or something, because then they at least have some good music playing in the background.

------

There's a woman who often calls who, after I introduce myself, always says, "I'm calling you... right?"

The funny part isn't so much of what she says, but what I had the urge to tell her. Last time she called, I almost told her, "No, you're not calling us." and then hang up on her. The only reasons why I didn't were because she probably wouldn't have found that very funny and because my work would probably have gotten mad at me. Oh, well. At least I'm prepared for a comeback if someone ever calls my cell and says that...

------

The other day I was charging someone's credit card and it wasn't working. It was because the date on the card was wrong. I told the woman this and she told me to change the date. The date that she wanted me to change it to was the 22nd month of 2013. Now, I know that 2013 is still a little ways away, but unless there is some type of global announcement that I missed, I think we're still going to have 12 months every year. I tried to explain the woman this, but she didn't believe me and tried to tell me how it really is possible to have 22 months in a year. I still don't get it...

------

People have a hard time saying my name in Latin America. When I first started, they would ask me to repeat my name and I would help them understand it and get it right. I stopped doing this after a while because it could sometimes take about 5 minutes to help them figure it out and usually involved spelling it in several creative ways. So instead of going through this long process, I decided just to agree with whatever name they happen to call me after I say my name.

"What's your name?"
"Brenton."

"Bryan?"
"Yup, that's it."

So here is a little list some of the more common names and more entertaining ones that I've been called in these last two weeks (because I don't remember most of the ones that they've said before then). I've been called: Brandon, Bryan, Fransico, Bray, Fran, Brighton, Franco, Paco, Franklin, Ray, Juan, Braydo, and my personal favorite, Friend.

------

The last one that I am going to mention today is one of my favorites. I was helping someone with a problem and afterwards I asked if there was anything else that she needed. She said that there wasn't, so I told her goodbye and proceeded to write up a little report about what happened. As I did, I suddenly heard 'The Entertainer' (the piano song) start to play over my headset in full 16-bit sound! I started laughing and looked around, a little confused, trying to figure out what was going on. It played through one full time and was into the second when I finally figured out what happened: the woman who I was talking to, instead of hanging up the phone, had put me on hold instead. (Apparently, she has a thing for 'The Entertainer' playing in high-def 16-bit sound) I thought it was pretty great and told my boss that they should make it so that all agents can listen to that same type of high quality while they're writing their reports. He told me no. Sad!

------

...and thus ends my yougoogooley. The job has treated me well, may it Rest In Peace, but, alas, I must now move on to greener pastures and better things...

Of wheelchairs and alligators

2008-04-01T18:00:00.008-06:00

This is a picture that I had at the top of my blog for a while, but recently removed it. So I decided to explain it here because I'm sure that it's made a couple of people curious. The first time that I saw that sign was when I was walking around a mall with my second cousin, Lessa, who wanted to visit a secondhand bookstore. So we went in and wondered around a bit. I was pretty much grabbing any book that looked interesting and/or weird. One of them had several photos in it, and included a picture of this sign and I thought it was funny. THE END.

What? You expected there to be more to the story? Well, there really isn't. It's just a funny picture that made my cousin and I laugh. I have no idea what it means. I just ran across it again and decided to put it here.

Also, if you haven't already noticed, I posted some of the poems and thoughts that I've written. They are certainly not all of them (there are several more), but they are the ones that I like the best and the ones that I think others would appreciate the best. I definitely don't consider myself a writer, but I enjoy doing it every now and then and I think I'm decent at it. Feel free to enjoy and post your comments and ideas. The ironic thing is, as I'm writing this, no one really knows about this blog and I don't think a single person has read it yet. Funny.

Also, one more note: the only ones that are posted so far are the same ones on my facebook profile, so I'm sorry if you were looking for something new and you've already read them there. Maybe I'll put some new ones that I've finished soon...

Part II

2008-04-01T17:22:00.005-06:00

I once was asked:
What do you have to offer?
What can you give to make her want to be yours?

I sit here now
and think of the answers
that I can give to satisfy the questions asked.

I don’t have much
to my name at the moment
beyond a few dollars, a used car, and a few odds and ends.

I do have myself,
and all that I have become
which is imperfect, but is still a work in progress:

I am determined.
If there is ever something
that I want, I set my mind to it and get it done.

I am smart.
Learning comes easy to me.
I enjoy it a lot and like to see and do new things.

I’m a hard worker.
When I have a job to do
I like to not just do it, but I like to do it well.

I know right
from wrong and do my best
to live in a way that reflects what I know inside.

I’m hygienic.
It may not seem like much
but I brush my teeth and clean myself up daily.

I’m well-mannered.
I try to be respectful to all.
I also try to treat every girl like the princess she is.

I try to sacrifice
and put others before myself
because I find that I am happier when I do so.

I’m outgoing
and like to get to know people
and help lift, cheer, and put smiles on their faces.

I’m funny
and like jokes and laughing
because I prefer to laugh rather than get angry or sad.

I try to help.
I can read people pretty well
and I like to make a sad, bad, or hard day better for them.

I listen.
I try hard to do it well
because it is often the best thing I can do for other people.

I am strong-willed.
I don’t care what most think of me
and those that I do sometimes don’t know how much they influence me.

I like to serve
and do random acts of kindness.
It gives me a rush and I love the reactions when others see it.

I’m dependable
and I want others to know it
because I know unfulfilled promises and words can hurt the most.

I’m curious
and I love to see the world
and everything in it and how it all works and fits together.

I’m flexible
I don’t mind changing my day
so that something good or important can get accomplished.

I try to change.
If there’s something I feel
that needs to be different in my life, I work hard to change.

I’m cheerful
and happy most of the time.
I see life as a beautiful thing and try my best to enjoy every day.

I’m not perfect

I can be stubborn,
I can be unpunctual,
I can be quick to judge,
I can say a careless word,
I can be impatient with life,
I can be apathetic at times, too.

But

I can promise to be someone who loves
the sound of rain falling on the trees
lazy summer days spent together
snowflakes floating in the air
dancing slowly to our song
caring for our children

I can promise to be someone who has a love for life.

(That is to say, a love for her.)

Like I said before:
I’m not perfect.

But

I try my very best
to become someone who brings out the best in others.

...and no, I'm not really talking about China.

2008-04-01T17:19:00.002-06:00

China wrapped in paper and string
is to most a precious thing

we try to handle with great care
for it is valuable, and very rare.

'Tis fragile and with ease can break
(This very thought makes many quake)

and so, to stop this, they work hard,
to assure that it remains unmarred.

Most will take and hide it away
or put in a safe place to display

behind a latch, or lock and key
they put it there for all to see

but none may touch, that much is clear
because of that which they all fear

an act of God, or a hand that slips,
that puts in china many small chips,

or maybe it lend to a careless soul
who then forgets; leaving you unwhole,

and also there are those who steal,
to leave a place that never heals.

or even worse; a spiteful toss
that turns this prize into but dross.

So into cupboard and box they go,
for protection and safety. Although,

I must confess I much prefer
to bring it out and share with her.

It’s true, while doing, I take a risk,
that someone will crack or break that disk

But what good is displayed china to me?
I’d rather use it in good company.

And if, by chance, the china is broken,
by one of the ways that I have spoken,

I’ll take it, mend it, or buy it anew,
for the risk is worth it, to share with you

my china, wrapped up in paper and string,
which is, of course, my most precious thing.

Wife Wanted

2008-04-01T16:42:00.006-06:00

Someone with a sense of humor;
who can laugh freely and without restraint.

Someone who smiles often
because she is genuinely happy with life.

Someone who is confident and can stand on her own,
but who still needs and wants me.

Who has passions and talents that she enjoys,
wants to develop,
shares with me,
and is willing to give up if she ever had to.

Someone who enjoys the sunshine
and the feeling of a new day.

Someone who likes to sit with me on the grass,
and just talk and listen to the summer breeze.

Someone who can find and appreciate
the millions of joys that are scattered throughout life.

Who’s eyes brighten at something so simple as
the sound of falling rain,
the smell of a new spring,
and the feeling of a lazy summer night.

Someone who takes care of herself
and cares about the way she looks and feels

Someone who can look in the mirror
and be happy with what she sees.

Someone who allows me to know
who she really is.

Who isn’t afraid nor ashamed
of who she was,
who she will become,
and who she can help me be.

Someone who is truly willing to get to know me
as I come to know myself.

Someone who is interested in my passions and desires
and encourages me to follow them.

Someone who listens and learns to ask me the right questions,
and who won’t think ill of me for being me.

Who is patient as we come to know of my many faults
and who loves me despite of them,
but who loves me enough
to help me overcome them.

Someone who runs and jumps into my arms,
when she sees me coming to her.

Someone who isn’t afraid to kiss me in public,
or hold my hand when we walk.

Someone who likes to hold me,
and be held in return.

Who wants to always be in love,
for time,
for eternity,
and is willing to work and sacrifice for that goal.

Someone who is as excited to see me,
as I am to see her.

Someone who loves to surprise me
with things that seem silly, but are sweet.

Someone who calls just to hear my voice,
and who leaves me love notes just because.

Who is preoccupied for my comfort,
my well-being,
my happiness,
and who knows that I am preoccupied for hers.

Someone who appreciates
what others do for her.

Someone who encourages me to be myself
because it makes her happy.

Someone who brings out the best in me,
and I bring out the best in her.

Someone who puts me before her friends,
before her family,
before her children,
and who knows I will do the same.

Someone who loves being swept of her feet,
by someone who really loves her.

Someone who lets me buy her favorite food,
and bring it to her when she’s feeling down.

Someone who loves random acts of kindness
and who will let me dote on her.

Someone who doesn’t mind being treated like what she is;
a princess,
and who is willing to show me gently how one should be treated,
but who forgives me for not always expressing it in the way she expects.

Someone who makes plans,
but is willing to change them to do something good or exciting.

Someone who is young at heart
and never lets herself grow old.

Someone who wants to see and know
everything good that life has to offer.

Who wants to fly,
to grow,
to fulfill dreams,
and become everything good she possibly can be.

Someone who knows that bad times will come,
but remembers the good.

Someone who isn’t afraid to do right,
even though it may bring sorrow.

Someone who grows and learns
through every trial and pain.

Who has patience and knows that
every night has a dawn,
every storm has an end,
and every spring follows winter and brings life again.

Someone who isn’t afraid to cry
when it hurts inside.

Someone who can stand steadfast and strong,
when I stumble and try.

Someone who has a tender heart,
and a desire to understand.

Who can be that shoulder I cry on,
that hug that comforts me,
that love that lifts me up,
but who will also let me be the same for her.

Someone who is quick to say, “I’m sorry.”
and who allows me to apologize.

Someone who says the words “I love you.”
and expects to hear them, too.

Someone who quick to build up others,
and slow to tear them down.

Who realizes the power in her words,
her attitude,
her desires,
and tries hard to use them only for good.

Someone who wants to be a mother,
and has the heart of one.

Someone who desires to have kids,
and raise them together with me.

Someone who loves to sing and read,
so she can make tender memories for her children.

Who is willing to nurture,
to teach,
to heal,
to sacrifice to bring love into her home.

Someone who is content
to just enjoy one another’s company.

Someone who doesn’t necessarily care what she is doing,
but who she is doing it with.

Someone who listens,
and tries to understand me.

Who shares what she’s learned that day,
what she saw,
what she felt,
and knows that I want to hear.

Someone who sees every day as a gift
and wakes up by my side happy to be there.

Someone who is excited to learn
and see everything good that the world has to offer,

Someone who is thankful for opportunities,
and who tries not to let them slip by.

Who gets a thrill just by seeing the sun rise
for another day,
for another time,
for another chance to live and make a difference in others.

Someone who is not afraid to try and fail
and who allows me that same courtesy.

Someone who recognizes we both may fall at times,
but who’s always willing to get back up again.

Someone who isn’t perfect
because I know that if she were she probably wouldn’t want me,

Someone who is willing to hold my hand,
not run ahead,
nor lag behind,
but match me step for step until the end.

But I know that what I want–
what I need–

is someone to run with me,
someone to laugh with me,
someone to live life with me,
someone to cry with me,

a friend, a lover,
a daughter, a mother,
a wife.

I think of her all the time,
even though I may not know exactly who she is right now.
But I will in the future
and that is enough for me.

I do not like them, Sam I am!

2008-03-28T17:49:00.008-06:00

I don't believe that I told anyone this, but about 2 weeks ago I was walking down the street, talking to my mom on the phone. Usually, I cut through the large field right by Wyview because I can get home a bit faster that way, but today I was thinking that I might get a Jamba Juice. Anyway, I was talking to my mom and walking through that little plaza area that has Jamba Juice when I saw this walk towards me:

I have to confess: I did double-take. I'm not used to characters from my childhood books walking down the street towards me when it's not Halloween, when I'm not asleep, and when I haven't been eating anything funky. I mean, I know that some could say that I'm slightly eccentric and/or a little weird at times, but last time I checked, I don't hallucinate.

I passed them on the little sidewalk, trying hard not to laugh at them as they pranced (yes, they pranced) by me. My mom started asking why I was so quiet and laughed when I told her who I had seen.

Actually, talking about these people remind me of another person who I saw when I was walking home from school. I was heading down the ramp by Helaman Halls when I saw someone walking towards me. At first, when it was far away, I thought it was a girl, but after a second or two I realized that it wasn't a girl, but a guy dressed completely in girl's clothes. He wore large lens, white, plastic sunglasses, girl's jeans, girl's shoes, a girl's low-cut V neck t-shirt, and a baby-blue small hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head. I'm sure I was making a funny face at him as he walked by. He may have looked like a girl from far away, but up close his 5 o'clock shadow gave him away.

In the beginning...

2008-03-26T13:52:00.000-06:00

So here I am writing my very first entry for my newly made blog. It was mostly on a whim that I decided to involve myself in this new found way of wasting time, but I think I'm going to enjoy it.

I'm currently procrastinating a 6-8 page paper that I'm supposed to write for my Spanish Class, but before I can write it I need to read a book called "Mala Yerba" and come up with a topic. The book is about 220 pages long. I've read about 3 pages of it. In about 15 minutes. I need to have the paper done by Friday. Normally I'm a quick reader, but this book has a bunch of vocabulary that is way over my head. (The best part is that I consider myself fluent in the language, too.)

The reason why I bring this up, is because this book has the habit of going of on several tangents that are seemingly unrelated to the main purpose of the book. Ok, so they ARE completely unrelated to anything in the book. That's not the point. The point is, I have found out that some of these tangents can actually be pretty entertaining (at least to me) once I actually decipher what it's trying to say. For example, there is one part of the book where it begins to talk about a bull that lives on a cattle ranch. When you translate it, it says something similar to the following:

"Every now and then the bull would lift its mute snout to the heavens in thanks, perhaps because it had befallen him to enjoy his youth in such an abundant seraglio (place where the sheik keep their harem)..."

Now, I really have no clue what a lone paragraph about a bull and his harem have to do with the plot of this story, but maybe I'm just not that sophisticated enough to understand that sort of thing.

So, for the next while I'm going to be reading this book and trying to understand the meaning behind the bull so I can write the paper tomorrow. We'll see how it works out.