Blue-y Dave!

(Okay, I will probably regret posting this in the morning, but right now I want to share.) I recently paid three dollars for a frog at Target's that I call "BLUE-Y DAVE!!". (Please slightly widen your eyes and do jazz hands. You will look rather like a cliche'd car lot salesman.)

He always looks shocked and surprised and is...jiggly? He's made out of rubber-y stuff. So you can squish him around and he make more faces...And they ALL make me laugh. You are welcome, world. :)

Bereft

Though I'm sure we've all had our fair share of Robert Frost (As we should. He's quite good, yes?) I really liked this poem, and since my, erm, poetry blog is dusty ragged and ill-maintained...


Bereft
by Robert Frost

Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking downhill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out in the porch's sagging floor
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.

He is my Penguin

It is late, I have drank an entire liter of orange soda, and for some reason am thinking in a pompous British voice inside my head. So forgive me if I sound pretentious. (Would someone explain to me how orange soda and sleep deprivation are linked to odd thinking voices? Though...I did do some half hearted crunches today. The exercise must have gotten to me.)

It has, in a blast of carbonated citrus-y goodness, occurred to me that I have never extolled the virtues and wonders of the other half of my soul. This is mostly due to the aversion I have of bringing boy troubles onto the purity that is "THE BLOG". So out of habit, and respect towards those who just don't care he's not had sonnets written to him as of yet. (And is not likely to, I prefer double dactyls for such things. Baha.)

His name is Tyler. And I love him.

Love is an odd thing, and when you finally get the real thing...It's not what you expect. The best I can say is... It's like my soul has been permeated through with his. Everything I do somehow links back to him. Because of him I am a better person. Things I'd be willing to do a year ago (shifty things that are better off not acted on) I now refrain from because I don't want to do anything that would affect him adversely.

He is my penguin.

Soulless Creature Most Miserable

Over the past half-year or so I've managed to let my brain go to complete flab. I've written absolutely nothing and now seem to have lost the ability to compose things as simple as well rounded journal entries. And to the me of half a year ago this would have been die worthy, but I've just...let go? The past couple of months. I'm not for sure what's going on.

It's been a bout of creative wasteland and unoriginality that has swept my world. Oh terrible terrible wasteland, let loose my chains! *Dramatic chain shake*

But, writing and creativity aside, it's even been a bit of a drought on reading. Which is a mortal wound to my soul! Yes. You are correct, sirs (And madams if it pleases you.) You are reading the blog of a soulless creature most miserable.

Of course, I have but myself to blame. (And this odd bout of complete brain-flabness.) I'll just hop back into the sieve, shall I?

Muddled Times

These are the middle times were thoughts are muddled, hmm? I sit through summer filled with maudlin and fuzzy thoughts of now and clear thoughts of the future. How is that, and shouldn't it be the other way around?

It's very disconcerting when you know who you want to be, but you don't know how you are going to get there. You have a destination, but the paths to get there aren't just a maze. It's a terrible labyrinth that doesn't include David Bowies's crotch.

Honestly though, there are so many paths to get to where you want to be, but make the slightest misstep and you're a different person. Not necessarily a bad person, but instead of driving a Honda you have a Dodge, or you buy a Dacshund instead of a Japanese Chin. (Or a MASTIFF! Whoo!)It just amazes me how all these tiny little deviations can eventually lead up to who you are. Amazing.