A nursery rhyme about children and the day of the week they were born on:
"Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for its living, But the child that's born on the Sabbath Day Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay."
Is this a bad time for me to bring up that I was born on a Wednesday?
Our manager's 5-year old knocked on the door, to come in and hang out. He proceeded to climb on the couch and pace around the living room, and added by stating quite the observation: he like heaters because they're warm. I gave him a small glass of chocolate milk, but not without requesting those magic words that were most necessary to hear first. Mom and sister came by to collect him shortly after and he said his goodbye.
About five minutes later, he opened our door, came back inside, and rushed toward me with a napkin full of bits of what appear to be cookie crisp cereal. I thanked him and he turned around to rush back home.
Guys, take note. At age 5, this is adorable. At age 15, this is acceptable. At age 25, this is awkward. So if you want to send a special treat to a special lady, grab your little nephew, cousin, or that kid who lives across the street constantly asking to play baseball, and have him do the dirty work for you. On a side note: if you're hot enough, or if you know your lady well enough, but mostly if you're hot enough, you may do this yourself. Of course, it should be noted that no matter how hot you are, you may not be able to get away with turning her couch into a jungle gym, bringing your mom and sister to her house to pick you up, or barging into her bedroom without knocking first.
And now I'm going to enjoy my cookie crisp and a Christmas song:
The lights are strung up. The tree is bought, assembled, and adorned. The hats, jackets, thick sweaters, and scarves have been pulled from the closet. The speakers are pulsating with the familiar sounds of holiday tunes in their classic and variation forms. The big red bows, shiny ribbons, and rolls of gift wrap have been purchased. The greeting cards are sifted through and handpicked to the choice selection in preparation for the inevitable and possibly humiliating holiday picture. The scent of gingerbread fills the air, not to mention the grande sized Starbucks coffee cup. The pumpkin pies are baking in the oven, and cooling down on the counter in hopes of scraping off those burnt crust bits before serving. The price tags have been slashed to considerable amounts in the hundreds, a bargain considering the original added to nearly a thousand. The high temperatures have dropped down to a finger numbing average of 65 degrees.
The first time I watched Coraline was on a Valentine's Day date last year, and it creeped me out more than I expected it to. The trailer made it appear as a dark animated picture with scares targetted to those who have yet to reach their preteen years (because "tween" is about one of the dumbest words ever invented). With it being on the list of potential movies to watch on Halloween, along with other family friendly classics such as It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, Hocus Pocus, and anything from the mind of Tim Burton, I thought it maybe a dimly lit idea to watch this movie again and alleviate any unsettling jitters that arose after the first viewing. It's not as creepy as the first time, but there's still something very uncomfortable about watching it, and I think I know why. It's interesting.
Example #13 of what makes people silly: I wore my costume downtown after that party which was a great idea. Aside from the amusement that comes with some of the colorful people who have just indulged in a little too much happy juice, we found another amusement in the stares from said people who saw me (namely since I was the only one visibly in costume). Yes, people, I did see you staring at me from the corner of my eye, and yes, I know I have stitches on the sides of my mouth, and yes, I also know Halloween is coming up. That turned out to be much more entertaining than I thought it would, and it was mainly because of silly people. Next time, I'm staring back, with a scary face thrown in here and there for good measure. Wow, Halloween is fun.
I anticipate this will be a wonderful holiday season, just seeing how the days leading up to Halloween have already proved to be so. With the success that Thanksgiving turned out to be last year, I am looking forward to it again this year, because no matter how I feel, I will have my practically perfect default plan. And with the golden birthday coming up, perhaps a little bit more thought will be taken in actually celebrating with people, even if it does mean waiting for about a month again to do something. I'm also making other plans which are very exciting, fingers crossed, knock on wood, they will turn out the way they should (if not better, which I'm totally gunning for)!
We especially have to watch this movie on Halloween night because of my costume. I guess it doesn't hurt that it's a very fitting Halloween movie either:
Change is good, but sometimes it's strange. Little things make a world of difference, such as making and eating breakfast in the morning, or gaining an extra hour or two of sleep and then tidying up the bed, or primping up and then taking some windex to the mirrors. I haven't changed drastically (if at all) as far as my personality goes, but there is a definite shift, as briefly mentioned in my previous entry, of the homemaker in training tendencies that are more prevalent. I don't know why it's happening, but at least it looks clean and tastes yummy.
This life has hit a familiar point of the surreal, as if I am starring in my own personal episode of The Twilight Zone, where I wonder to myself, "Is this truly the life I am living?" I have those times where things come to mind that should be forgotten, but they just won't go away, about what I had that was taken away from me by the deception of certain people, moments that I look back on and think, "Did that really happen? Was I a part of this? Wasn't it meant to be more? Who were these people who lied when they said we would always be together, only to cut it short for one meaningless reason or another?" And there are similar yet contrasting times when I think about the next day and the day after, the next week, month or two, trying to snap into the reality that, yes, I do work at this amazing job, I do live in this wonderful place, I can attend these heavenly temples, I am surrounded by these beautiful people, I can go to this happy theme park whenever I need or want.
I went with another one of my friends for the first time, and as many of my Disneyland excursions go, we had a blast. What also made this time awesome was the initiative taken along the way. One of the things I have always wanted to do at Disneyland is meet someone new and spend some time with them at the park. A moment such as this almost came to pass at that moment also mentioned in another post of mine a few months ago with the fellow I met in the single rider line for Indiana Jones, but not so since I had already made plans that evening which had no relation to Disney whatsoever. It must have only been a matter of time before this should happen, because as my friend and I finished our ride on Space Mountain, we found the two gentlemen who had stood directly behind us in line with a super fast pass in tow, as the ride had broken down immediately after we departed. We asked to tag along, as the pass allowed up to six persons to board, and they were gracious enough to share with us. This one ride turned into several more and a good few hours together as a party of four (the magic Disneyland number) before we parted ways for dinner and the wonderful World of Color.
(On a side note: although I still don't understand the direction it's meant to take, I love World of Color, and could see it over and over again. We were teary eyed by the end of the show, but maybe that was just the mist from the fountains. We were standing in the "wet zone", after all.)
This serves to further my love of what is rightfully dubbed "The Happiest Place On Earth". A person would have to work very hard (or just not love Disney in the slightest) to even avoid cracking a smile for one moment while surrounded in the ambience of the Disneyland magic. And it does seem that people are much more friendly here than in most other places. Perhaps it is the kid in all of our hearts opening up their eyes to see the good in everyone around us. Or maybe we can just have more fun when in a place where fun prevails, and when fun people find more fun people, the level of fun rises well beyond the mark. (That was a lot of "fun"s in one sentence, and now the word "fun" is starting to look funny.)
It may be a bad habit to dive into the philosophy of "Work Hard, Play Hard", but it's been the best, and everything feels much more worthwhile. I'm having a great time, I'm learning a lot, I am making more than I imagined I would, and I'm keeping my mind from turning into jelly. My body might crash after doing this for an extended period of time, but let's just refer to it as building up my immunity and strength for now. Not to mention, my legs are going to be in great shape from all of the walking I am doing.
Considering I have been running around in this cold-recovering body, and spent much more time out of the house than in this past week (especially the weekend), I am reserving this holiday for relaxation. I have already slept in until 9:00 am, and I have a few errands to run, studying to do, and food to eat, followed by much needed exercise. Before I continue, though, I will watch a Donald Duck cartoon. Happy laboring!
In the midst of my cravings, I found that summer is the season for pitaya, dragonfruit. Never before had I found dragonfruit available in the surplus of grocery stores surrounding me, but the hopes of discovering them locally rarely lingered. I don't believe the USofA claims this fruit as native to this land, but it's at least found in Central and South America, and several Asian countries near the equator. (I'm assuming dragonfruit loves living in the tropical weather?) Why the inquiry of such an obscure piece of produce? It may just be as such, its obscurity makes it intriguing, its appearance inside and out, and that of an all too familiar flavor found in vitamin water prompts the question of what the fruit itself must taste like. Plus, it's called "dragonfruit", how can any fruit with a name as such be passed over?
Thank goodness for Asian markets!!! And what a relief to arrive midday when less people are out shopping where I can find myself not in fear for my life driving through the parking lot. I also found several brands of coconut milk, which prompted the Asian in me to purchase the cheapest ones on the shelf (which also happened to be on sale). And how could I resist a case (or two) of mochi? As I made my way through the market, sure enough, on a tucked away corner of the produce shelves neatly arranged were dozens of dragonfruit, a moment where the heavens seemed to open and shine their light upon them and sing in angelic chords. I only bought one, but if so pleased, I will definitely have to buy more.
On the note of coconut milk, another dive into a new cooking experience. There is something to be said about the homemaker-in-training tendencies I have displayed as of recent these last few months, namely learning to make new meals and snack foods, and especially the desserts which I have shared with those I reside with. Whether or not I become a homemaker is not of the subject, but there's something to be said about knowing to make a variety of dishes, especially for someone as myself whose tastes vary based on mood or the time of day or the newest craving of interest. I recall a dessert from when I was younger, one of the only foods I truly enjoyed eating that was made in my household, which sadly was soon eliminated once the totalitarian health craze moved in. I look back and I think about now and what will be different, that with my family of the future (however many it may consist of) there will be something to be said of making meals that have the right balance of taste and nutrition, and that every now and then it doesn't hurt to include something sweet. One of these new sweet treats I have learned to make, courtesy of a fellow blogger and friend, is haupia, a Hawaiian recipe basically summed up as coconut pudding. Coconut milk tastes quite bland to me in general, but as a key ingredient in haupia, I am surprised at how great the mixture tastes. And as the night approaches, I may indulge in a small portion with perhaps a few bits of dragonfruit on the side.
The next step is to figure out what to do with the coconut milk I have left over. It'll require a bit of exploration, but if nothing else, this could add to one heck of a tropical smoothie.
Yesterday, I had a mindset (and a post in the making) all ready and rearing to blog which temporarily allowed itself to be distracted, and perhaps for good reason. In darker times, I tend to think too much. Recently, I have been thinking a lot, but not because these are darker times. If anything, I can argue I am living in the complete antithesis of such, for I am rather fortunate for the goings on of these last good number of days, and I have a few wonderful people, places, and things to thank for this.
In a summer such as this, how can one not formulate a smile on their face just by taking a glance outside and seeing the beauty that is found in the sand and surf and fresh air? How can this atmosphere not be taken advantage of? And the relief that comes with rain or a misty day. How much more fortunate is it to live less than ten minutes away from a temple and be endowed to perform the ordinances therein? I have a growing love for the temple, and I only imagine this love will continue to grow.
This is a beautiful place, and as I expand my horizons I realize how much more beautiful it is here (this is in no way intended to be an homage to American Beauty either). It's been limited with the lack of time I had, and now that time is occupied in other forms, it opens the way for more opportunities allowing open and quality time.
I had a conversation with a friend of mine visiting from out of state. It made me realize the different ways people think, and how unfortunate it is to know that some people can be destroyed by the stigmas imposed by a certain culture. It also brings to mind decisions people have made to hurt me intentionally, and why these people were brought into my life if only to bring me pain. And then it becomes clearer that I cannot blame myself, for people have their agency, and if they use it improperly, that is in no way my fault, no matter how awful or responsible I may feel or how many times I had the finger pointed at me.
One starry night, and a busy mind full of thoughts with music pumping throughout the evening. What prompted this gentleman to take initiative into approaching me? He gave so much more care and time that I have only seen a handful of people willing to give after an initial meet and greet with someone who has been put through the ringer of poor decision making brought by others. What would happen if more people could show that kind of care? It takes a special person to touch someone's life for the better. A date earlier this week also made a surprising world of difference, and if more FHEs could fall through as such, I may get used to this. I should really keep in mind with my special fellow that dates do not have to end with the DTR.
Case in point in a matter of touching lives for the better: The Changing of the Guard. I can't think of a moment I haven't felt that tender spot swell inside me as I have every time I watch this episode.
This made more sense in my mind, but I appreciate these moments I can relax and take in more of these ponderings as I spew them out in a somewhat disheveled form based on my energy level. And I will conclude there as I leave singing oooooooh oh, ooohhhhh oh, oh ooohhh oohh.
The lights are strung up. The tree is bought, assembled, and adorned. The hats, jackets, thick sweaters, and scarves have been pulled from the closet. The speakers are pulsating with the familiar sounds of holiday tunes in their classic and variation forms. The big red bows, shiny ribbons, and rolls of gift wrap have been purchased. The greeting cards are sifted through and handpicked to the choice selection in preparation for the inevitable and possibly humiliating holiday picture. The scent of gingerbread fills the air, not to mention the grande sized Starbucks coffee cup. The pumpkin pies are baking in the oven, and cooling down on the counter in hopes of scraping off those burnt crust bits before serving. The price tags have been slashed to considerable amounts in the hundreds, a bargain considering the original added to nearly a thousand. The high temperatures have dropped down to a finger numbing average of 65 degrees.
The first time I watched Coraline was on a Valentine's Day date last year, and it creeped me out more than I expected it to. The trailer made it appear as a dark animated picture with scares targetted to those who have yet to reach their preteen years (because "tween" is about one of the dumbest words ever invented). With it being on the list of potential movies to watch on Halloween, along with other family friendly classics such as It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown, Hocus Pocus, and anything from the mind of Tim Burton, I thought it maybe a dimly lit idea to watch this movie again and alleviate any unsettling jitters that arose after the first viewing. It's not as creepy as the first time, but there's still something very uncomfortable about watching it, and I think I know why. It's interesting.
just indulged in a little too much happy juice, we found another amusement in the stares from said people who saw me (namely since I was the only one visibly in costume). Yes, people, I did see you staring at me from the corner of my eye, and yes, I know I have stitches on the sides of my mouth, and yes, I also know Halloween is coming up. That turned out to be much more entertaining than I thought it would, and it was mainly because of silly people. Next time, I'm staring back, with a scary face thrown in here and there for good measure. Wow, Halloween is fun.
up and then taking some windex to the mirrors. I haven't changed drastically (if at all) as far as my personality goes, but there is a definite shift, as briefly mentioned in my previous entry, of the homemaker in training tendencies that are more prevalent. I don't know why it's happening, but at least it looks clean and tastes yummy.
as a party of four (the magic Disneyland number) before we parted ways for dinner and the wonderful World of Color.
makes it intriguing, its appearance inside and out, and that of an all too familiar flavor found in vitamin water prompts the question of what the fruit itself must taste like. Plus, it's called "dragonfruit", how can any fruit with a name as such be passed over?
ary based on mood or the time of day or the newest craving of interest. I recall a dessert from when I was younger, one of the only foods I truly enjoyed eating that was made in my household, which sadly was soon eliminated once the totalitarian health craze moved in. I look back and I think about now and what will be different, that with my family of the future (however many it may consist of) there will be something to be said of making meals that have the right balance of taste and nutrition, and that every now and then it doesn't hurt to include something sweet. One of these new sweet treats I have learned to make, courtesy of a fellow blogger and friend, is haupia, a Hawaiian recipe basically summed up as coconut pudding. Coconut milk tastes quite bland to me in general, but as a key ingredient in haupia, I am surprised at how great the mixture tastes. And as the night approaches, I may indulge in a small portion with perhaps a few bits of dragonfruit on the side.
atmosphere not be taken advantage of? And the relief that comes with rain or a misty day. How much more fortunate is it to live less than ten minutes away from a temple and be endowed to perform the ordinances therein? I have a growing love for the temple, and I only imagine this love will continue to grow.