Long Walks And Blistered Feet

Awhile ago, Krissy and I went for a walk; I think it was at Flanders' or something. We were almost certainly trespassing, but I think the statute of limitations has expired, so we should be safe now.


There were sheep, pigs, chickens, donkeys, and, of course, these two beauties. You might not notice it at first, but there is actually a second horse in the foreground-- see its mane? Yeah, he's about to take a lunging horse to the face.

You ever have something bop you in the nose? You know how you instinctively cringe and your eyes tear up? Imagine if instead of a stick tapping your nose you had this monstrosity coming at you instead.

As I remember it, it was kind of intense, but the horses seemed fine. In fact, they were rather playful afterwards. I seem to remember them rolling around on the ground afterwards, which was kind of funny.

We haven't been on any long long walks in awhile, but the walks definitely are filled with happy memories.

They are the reasons why I think we're getting married-- mischievous walks that maybe, just maybe, were a few miles too long.

Sometimes Wedding Bells Sound More Like Thunder Claps

Weddings are fickle things. They are important but silly all at the same time. They are kind of like birthdays in a way. I don't feel much different on or after my birthday, but the ticker that keeps track of my life has seemed fit to increase by one. After a wedding, is anything really different than before? I don't think marriage makes you care for someone more or love them more, but the way people treat weddings, you feel like you ought to.

I maintain a wedding is just a big ass party; I don't think you can deny that. Sure, there's a ceremony, but the bulk of a wedding is the reception-- that's the part people have fun at, the part people remember. Do people really remember a ho-hum ceremony when the DJ rocked some pretty phat beats courtesy Kenny G? I highly doubt it.

So it seems silly that for what is essentially a gathering of people, strongly resembling that of a party, has so much pressure put on it. Even more weird is that, most weddings are pretty much the same, formulaic bullshit. No offense to anyone who opts for such a wedding, some people love tradition, I respect that. I just think people should shake things up a bit from time to time.

I don't know if the best way to manifest that is by playing the Sex Pistols at a wedding, though. Just sayin'

There is definitely a weird aura that surrounds weddings and their planning, though. Everyone has an opinion. Most of those people, of course, are the ones who pay for weddings, so their opinions tend to find themselves grounded more in fact than opinion, though. This can be kind of stressful at times though, when the same people are telling you to do what you want to do in one breath, and the next don't seem too thrilled by your choices.

Like rings. Engagement rings aren't really necessary, are they?

Apparently to everyone else they are very important.

A song which will likely be played at the wedding:




This is pretty much verbatim what went down buying a suit. Some words may be slightly off, but I could not understand the tailor at all. Personally, since she was a woman, I think she is a seamstress. To me, tailors are men.

The salesman dude reminded me of an amalgamation of a whole lot of people. I actually quite liked him, though. He wasn't very pushy (until the end, but that's okay, I guess). He was more than patient, gave us space, and didn't mind being playful. Salesmen are all too often far too serious. I know, I used to be one and worked with a bunch of them. Pushy little fuckers. That company is out of business now though, so it serves them right. He had a kindness about him though, sort of Tim Gunn-esque. Just not as fabulous.

Prairie dogs. Need I say more?

Pronghorns. Their horns are unlike that of other horned animals. They actually shed their horns every year. They are also bone, which is covered in a sort of hair-like furryness.

Pygmy marmosets. Pretty much Krissy's favorite animal ever, so they had to be included. The Howler Monkeys are rather fun, too.

Apparently, dinosaurs are not appropriate. I think the dinosaurs and zoo animals would get along just fine. A rather large group of people are under the impression that humans and dinosaurs once coexisted peacefully, so I think they'd get along with peacocks as well.

Seating cards. If we could do it the way I'd want to (in an ideal world) they'd be flawless and seamless. Since we lack the right kinds of equipment and expertise and junk, we'll have to settle for adorable and still pretty kick-ass.

Where the whole shin-dig is going down. This picture is so pro. I should get paid for this kind of thing.

What's nice is that the walls are wood, so any light ends up with a very warm color temperature.



Peacock! They just roam about. There are at least five of them. This one is particularly pretty.



In the end, any stress really isn't worth it, though. Minuscule details, even if not perfect, will probably be forgotten. What people will remember is if the day was fun, if they enjoyed themselves, and hopefully that the day was a bit different.

What's On Our Dresser?

Being in a small space that's already filled with someone else's stuff is, no doubt, a pain in the ass. Anytime we want to use something or get something, there is simply no room for it. And being creative people with a lot of time on our hands means that most of the time we are trying to do something. This, as you can imagine, gets very frustrating.

This is a snapshot of really one of the only places we have to store things or put things. Originally, this was covered in porcelain houses and other trinkets.

Here is an overview of what it looks like from further out. It was dark so I had to use the light. And yes, it's always there, stripbox and all. That's how we roll.



Here is a view a bit closer. The two pictures after this will highlight the awesomeness that is: our dresser. This changes from day to day as we use and move things, but this is more or less how it looks on a regular basis. It's much neater after we clean, since I usually organize the random pain-in-the-ass-to-organize things. The regular boring-as-all-hell cleaning is usually performed (flawlessly I might add) by my Krissy.



Below some things are highlighted. I'll go into them in a bit of detail afterwards:



Starting from the left, we have (in no order, really):

A bag of buttons that do not fit in the larger jar of buttons further to the left.
Some books
A scarf Krissy made
A baby that Krissy's grandma crocheted. Here is a better picture. This may or may not be the same, since all I can see is the hair and skin:



India Ink

A rather large stack of revolving books (more detail later)

Buttons and knick-knacks

Stamp pad

Wax seal presser thingy

Below is the same picture, with some other stuff highlighted, notably the books.



Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
I Like You
How To Make Books
Heidi
The Wind In The Willows
The Cute Book
How To Crochet (I'm sure that's not what it's really called)
Sketchbook from The Sketchbook Project. (Total failure. lame)
The Little Prince (English)
The Little Prince (Italian)
The Little Prince (German)
Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone
Stormy Night
The Bread Baker's Apprentice
Platon
Photographic Wisdom

There are more books to the left like:

Pipi Longstocking
Kat Kong
Handmade Marketplace
Swiss Family Robinson
Tales From Outer Suburbia
I Am America (And So Can You)
Disappearing Spoon

Next to those are some sweet records. I cannot read them from where I am sitting, but I believe there is some Belle and Sebastian, White Stripes, and Raconteurs, for starters.

Then there is Krissy's record player.

The lantern which sits atop it

And finally, my Alienbees Einstein 640 Strobe, and my stipbox which is connected to it.

It's Valentines Day

I've been instructed specifically not to blog about the origins of Valentines Day by my other half. There will be no rant about how Valentines Day is a "hallmark holiday" or how it really caters to women, and in a way sort of forces men to do something for their women today. There will be no mention of the executions of two men named Valentine, both on February 14th of different years. Nor will I delve into their canonizations.

Nope. Not gonna do it. And not just because the wife said so. Truth is, it's kind of depressing to think about all that on a day that's supposed to be happy (and hopefully stress-free).

A lot of people buy things on Valentine's Day, and you have to wonder why? Not "why do they do it" why, why why this day? Do flowers and a card mean more today than some other day? Is Valentine's really a holiday that caters to women and only to them? Is Valentine's a day for a guy to behave so he gets rewarded by his lady (or man)? I don't really think so.

Speaking of which, here is mine. I hope she doesn't get too upset with me over this. ; )

How can one not love this girl?

I don't think that Valentine's, at it's core, meant to become what it is today. I think we made it that way.

No one says you have to give someone a Hallmark card. No one said you have to give anyone flowers, or massages, or anything else. Who says today requires a romantic dinner? What makes it special today? To me, I think it is less special.

The best part about romantic dinners is that they are usually a surprise. They are special because, for all you know, you are the only two people doing it at that very moment. Chances are you are not, but you can believe it to be so.

But on Valentine's Day? Being special, being different is what I think makes a day memorable. You can (and should) shower your significant other with love, gifts, and the like every day of the year. On Valentine's Day, do something different. Make them something by hand, for example. I know no woman who doesn't appreciate something made by hand. And I'm going to assume that guys would feel the same way. I know I do.



Making your own valentine is certainly a start. This couple has been using the same valentine for seventy years. It doesn't have to be anything too fancy. If you are not artistic or crafty, it won't matter. It really is the effort and out put that matter, not the artistic sensibilities behind it. Though, if your other half is an art critic, I cannot guarantee this previous statement.

Maybe that is too simple, or you've been doing that and you want to impress your love with something new, something different. You might try a new, unique craft. Quilling (or paper filigree) is one of those lost crafts that people just don't see much of anymore. It's incredibly inexpensive, all you need is some paper, a quilling tool, and some glue. It costs maybe ten dollars to get started. You could make something like this:



You could go with a different craft, too. Maybe you are clumsy with your fingers, or you have large hands, or can't focus on the small minutiae of quilling. Try making a book. There are all kinds of ways to make, and further customize, a book. It could be a recipe book, a note book, or a book for him or her to write you letters. We personally have this one, and I like it. It's simple and not too overwhelming if you are starting out. Even better is that some books require nothing more than paper, while others do require a few more tools. I assure you though, they're not expensive.

I think an important part of Valentine's Day though, arguably the most important in fact, is every single other day of the year. No amount of neglect can be made up for in one day of flowers and chocolate. No Hallmark card is going to make up for you being a bastard for the rest of the year. It doesn't take much to go a long way. Make them breakfast (Pancakes are yummy). Leave them notes at random, maybe daily before they leave for work. Surprise them every once in awhile. Tell them you're going to go out for dinner, and leave work early to prepare a meal at home instead.

This is not that difficult.

Really, if you're going to be spending the rest of your life with someone, it is in your best interest (and theirs) to treat every day like Valentine's Day.

You'll only have yourself to thank for it.

An Old Poem I Wrote

A Breath of Spring

Whereby you’re gone, a summer’s sigh;

When will this break become undone.

This day, so soon, I hope to come;

Another time to see you nigh.

A star struck visit here or there,

Could never satiate this burdened heart.

You’ll be my center, my twilight mare;

This awkward path—no longer dark.

This waking love had never shone;

A parenthesis ne’er stands alone.

—Dennis Maksymiw

I wrote this while I was in college for some random required class. Well, it wasn't a class per se. It was this weird required mini class they had all freshman do. We'd get into groups, talk, get to know each other, and have these mini assignments. For the life of me I can't remember anything from it except the room it was in and that one person wanted to be an astronomy major, but wasn't. (I went to an engineering school).

I remember that this poem got entered into a poetry book. I don't think it's special though because I feel like they invited a lot of poems in. They tried to get me to go to Florida and get some award or trophy thing, too. It seemed scammy, though, like the Who's Who of American College Students thing where you pay $60 and they send you a book with your picture, and the pictures of 5,000 other kids in it. Needless to say I didn't go, but I did let them use my poem. It was fun, though.

For a long time my poem was viewable on the internet on poetry.com, or something. Unfortunately, the website was bought out by some big company and it's no longer there. But I found it in my e-mail and I thought it'd be fun to post and share it. I like it, it's kind of funny, but sweet. If I recall, I wrote it fairly quickly, and I was quite pleased that I was able to use the word parenthesis.

In high school, my freshman year, I had a project for English class. I remember I wrote a bunch of poems (I wrote a lot back in the day), and I remember designing the whole thing in Photoshop and Paint Shop Pro. I really would like to find that one day because I have a feeling it was atrociously designed. I didn't know what I was doing, and it would be really funny to see. More importantly though I'd like to see the poems. If I were to find them in my mom's house, it would be like finding a treasure. I think I may know where they are, but I don't know where anything is anymore because my mom moved.

It would just be fun to see them, though.

Oh, and I got an A.