Day 75: Shakespeare's High School Poetry

The Tanka poem is a Japanese-style of poetry dating back almost 1,200 years ago, making it the oldest type of poetry in Japan. It's similar to the Haiku, but with more syllables in its five lines. There are five syllables in the first and third lines, and seven in the three remaining lines.


Tanka poems generally use simile, metaphor, and personification, and are written about nature, seasons, love, sadness, and other strong emotions. Others may not feel so strongly about one of my great loves, but that's why they're the ones who are missing out.


A Novel Idea


I am a wizard
a hacker, a mockingjay.
Each new character

Allows rekindled freedom

From whom I don't want to be.

Day 74: A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words... On Timing

I hate it when this happens, though it inevitably always does...

Last week's cliche: More Fun Than a Barrel of Laughs

Day 73: Stop. Focus. Click... On Calm Waters With a Fantastic View

I only had my cell phone camera with me when I was unexpectedly invited on a dinner cruise, but the view of Chicago from the water at twilight was gorgeous. (It isn't New York, but still nice.)

Day 72: Remember the Time... I Am S-M-R-T... I mean S-M-A-R-T

I work at an encyclopedia company. This company prides itself on being the authority on, well, everything. We have thousands of experts and contributors who submit content for publication, which is reviewed by our section editors and their bosses for thoroughness and accuracy. In addition, every single sentence of every single article is verified line by line by a team of researchers.

Remember the time I feel like I'm in school and just totally lost sometimes at work because I feel like everyone is so much smarter than me?

Though I am well aware of this fact, I'm constantly surprised at the sheer amount of knowledge that my colleagues possess. I only need to ask the editors if an exact date is correct, and they know off the top of their heads. This is never more evident than when we play volleyball, which we are known to do on Thursdays for three hours after work.

When the score was 18-12, for example, instead of saying 18-12, the server would yell out a historical event that happened on that date, like "OK, British American War! 1812!" It's plenty enough to make me feel constantly inadequate intelligence-wise. (And I make it much worse for myself when I'm in a meeting and say things like "Well, how often do natural disasters occur really?" to which everyone starts laughing and saying things like "Um, like every few minutes!?")

But at least they all have a sense of humor. When someone yelled a score of 14-22, and no one said anything in return, Jeff, the science section editor, said "1422... the year of Columbus' second voyage!"

To which, of course, someone else of course said "Really? His second voyage? The one that happened 70 years before the first one? Really?"

Though I simply listen to most conversations because I have no idea what the hell they're talking about, I have to say I am learning quite a bit.

Plus I love both my job and my colleagues. Finally!

Day 71: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... No One Would Have To Justify Who They Are

Most people don't wear hats. But some people do.

Most people drink alcohol. Some people don't.

Most people decide to have kids after they're married. Some choose to have kids before they're married, without a partner to help raise the child, or never at all.

Guess what? Regardless of whether I choose to wear a hat or drink or have kids,  it's OK. They are my personal decisions. 

And all of those personal choices are none of your fucking business. Just like your decisions regarding these matters and countless others are none of mine.

Who are you to ask why someone is wearing a hat? Maybe she's embarrassed by the fact that she didn't get to wash my hair and it's greasy, and your drawing attention to the fact that she's wearing a hat today - which she doesn't usually do - just makes it more awkward for her. Or maybe she just likes her hat and wanted to wear it. Why are you asking her to vocalize my decision?

I don't drink alcohol anymore. And when people ask me why I don't drink - which annoyingly happens virtually every single time I do anything outside of work hours - I say, "I do drink. If I didn't drink anything, how else would I stay alive?" And then I quickly change the subject.

Besides, who the fuck are you to ask me why I made the personal choice to not ingest alcohol when most people do? Maybe I'm allergic to it, maybe I'm addicted to it, maybe I'm trying to get pregnant, maybe a family member is an alcoholic, maybe I'm on probation and wearing an alcohol-monitoring ankle bracelet and don't want to go to jail. I choose not to drink alcohol, so what gives you the right to question my decision?

And yes, some people get married. But why does that mean that you're going to immediately start thinking of having kids? Maybe you've been trying and it hasn't happened, or maybe you don't want kids. And people bringing it up over and over just adds insult to injury.

In Lichtenstein, people have class. I'm not saying they're perfect, but they respect people's way of life. They respect the decisions people choose for themselves and don't make them justify those choices or vocalize why they've made these decisions.

This is why the motto of my country is "Lichtenstein. To each their own."

Although it also works, the motto is a little more PC than "Lichtenstein. Mind your own damn business."

Day 70: What Did Batman Say To Robin... About Tiny Blue Shirtless Characters

Holy weird, tiny, blue, shirtless characters Batman!

Oh The Smurfs. Though they were a little before my time (they premiered on TV the year before I was born and the series ended when I was just 7 years old; and I was too busy watching Sesame Street and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to watch them too often) I remember occasionally watching the Smurfs.

 

The Smurfs represent a fun, carefree society (minus there being only one girl that everyone has to do in order to make more Smurfs). What is the opposite of the Smurfs and what would their names/personalities be?

 

My response: The opposite of the Smurfs are, obviously, the Sfrums. The Sfrums are a Playboy-esque society of all females and one male, who is quite content being the only way to repopulate their society. This male, Renffeh Sfrum, struts around like he owns the place, and rightfully so. He knows he's needed - not exactly desired - but needed all the same.

 

The Sfrums are giant orange people who only wear shirts, as they don't believe in wearing pants in case Renffeh sets his sights on them. However, in general, they are a society of non-stop drama and cat fighting. There is constant whispering and backstabbing because too many females does not a pleasant utopia make. There is too much pink, an exorbitant amount of glitter, and clothes strewn everywhere, but Renffeh could care less because he's always in demand and he loves it. And what male wouldn't?

 

My Partner In Crime weighs in: We all know what Smurfs are; little blue people that walk around topless with white hates. Minus there being only one female and a giant, (normal-sized to us) retired, old man wearing a onesie, they live pretty freely. They’re cute, have cute names, and use “smurf” as just about every adjective and adverb. They have cute names like Smurfette, Papa Smurf, Brainy Smurf, Lazy Smurf… etc.

 

We live in a world with yin and yang. Nature works in balance. For every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. Balance. So, dear reader, what is the opposing community to the Smurfs? The answer is simply, the Fracks. The Fracks are a dirty brown, almost like theater carpet. They’re half bald and the female Fracks are missing teeth, ugly, and could use a shower, quite frankly.

The Fracks came to be as a result of a 2^nd female being banished from Smurf village. Her name was Frackin Smurf. She loved to frackin smurf. She fracken smurfed every chance she got and with every smurf she could frackin smurf with. Papa Smurf gave her and her smurf buddies an ultimatum. Either stop smurfing all the time or leave. She chose to leave, but not before convincing some of her other smurf buddies to come along with her with promises of all day smurfing. The Smurfs that followed her to the new village now named after her were also given names in honor of her.

Wrong Word Frack – always sings the wrong words to lyrics. “Salmon Rockstar” and “Don’t Pour Sugar On Me” and “Thunder Crashes” are some examples.

Obese Frack – eats a lot and is too lazy to walk anywhere so he uses a Segway.

Singy Frack – cannot sing and no matter what he says, his sexy operatic falsetto is not at all sexy.

Manipulative Frack – name suggests personality.

Con Frack – can’t be trusted and always winds up getting about $10 whenever he wants it.

Told You So Frack – always needs to correct you, your grammar, your facts, and always needs to say “I told you so.”

 

So what is the opposite of the Smurfs? Ousted Smurfs-turned Fracks/Sfrums who are far too obsessed with reproduction.

Day 69: Never Have I Ever... Had a Guy Ask For My Digits

I've never been that girl who's asked for her phone number by a guy at a bar or party. It's just never happened. Maybe it's because I've virtually always been in a relationship or maybe guys are just simply not interested.

Never have I ever had a guy ask for my phone number... but I gave mine to a really hot guy once.

I was probably 18 or 19 and it was at an Applebee's. I had gone there with three kids that I babysat for during my first few years of college, and the guy who greeted us at the door was super cute. He was tall, tan, and kind of shy, but had a nice smile.

One of the kids realized she lost her bracelet somewhere between the car and sitting down at the booth so, seeing an opportunity, I took her by the hand to the front of the restaurant and asked the cute guy if he had seen it. He hadn't, but we made small talk for a few minutes before I went back to the table.

But I couldn't get the cute guy out of my head, so I ripped off a corner of the paper tablecloth put there for the children, and wrote my name and number on it with a crayon.

I don't know what possessed me to boldly give my number to this guy who I knew absolutely nothing about other than he was cute and worked at Applebee's. Normal people would probably have just gone back there an unhealthy number of times under the guise of suddenly developing a daily craving for Applebee's in the hopes of seeing the guy again, but apparently I was in a confident state of mind, for I pressed the piece of paper in his hand and waltzed away with an over-the-shoulder smile on my way out.

Less than an hour later, as I was driving home from the kids' house, I got a phone call from an unrecognized number. I answered the phone and heard a quiet “hello” from a guy who said he was Jeff from Applebee’s.

“How are you?” I said, surprised that he was calling me so soon. I had thought he would have at least waited a day or so but that was OK, I guess.

The conversation that followed was one of the strangest conversations that I have ever had. Among other bizarre things, I learned that the guy enjoyed doing “nothing, really,” in his spare time just “hung out in his room,” and preferred to be alone.

“Oh, OK, well, I’m where I was heading, so I’ll talk to you later,” I said, knowing I never wanted to talk to this weirdo again.

I guess I learned my lesson, as giving my number out to a guy I just met was a one-time thing. Thankfully.