Wednesday, July 25, 2007

"Starfish" by Eleanor Lerman

"Starfish" by Eleanor Lerman, from Our Post-Soviet History Unfolds. © Sarabande Books, 2005. (Not sure if I’m allowed to post this on a blog, ‘reprinted with permission’ and sent to me via email from The Writer’s Almanac.)


This is what life does. It lets you walk up to
the store to buy breakfast and the paper, on a
stiff knee. It lets you choose the way you have
your eggs, your coffee. Then it sits a fisherman
down beside you at the counter who says, Last night,
the channel was full of starfish. And you wonder,
is this a message, finally, or just another day?

Life lets you take the dog for a walk down to the
pond, where whole generations of biological
processes are boiling beneath the mud. Reeds
speak to you of the natural world: they whisper,
they sing. And herons pass by. Are you old
enough to appreciate the moment? Too old?
There is movement beneath the water, but it
may be nothing. There may be nothing going on.

And then life suggests that you remember the
years you ran around, the years you developed
a shocking lifestyle, advocated careless abandon,
owned a chilly heart. Upon reflection, you are
genuinely surprised to find how quiet you have
become. And then life lets you go home to think
about all this. Which you do, for quite a long time.
Later, you wake up beside your old love, the one
who never had any conditions, the one who waited
you out. This is life's way of letting you know that
you are lucky. (It won't give you smart or brave,
so you'll have to settle for lucky.) Because you
were born at a good time. Because you were able
to listen when people spoke to you. Because you
stopped when you should have and started again.
So life lets you have a sandwich, and pie for your
late night dessert. (Pie for the dog, as well.) And
then life sends you back to bed, to dreamland,
while outside, the starfish drift through the channel,
with smiles on their starry faces as they head
out to deep water, to the far and boundless sea.


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Women Are Tricky

I don’t get us.  We are our own worst enemies.  Why is it that judge each other, sabotage each other, are curt with each other, yet excuse men for much, much more?   This is not a man-rant, so I won’t further propogate that argument, but seriously, women can be so ruthless to other women, it’s alarming and makes my stomach flip-flop a little.


Whether it’s judging someone because of their job position (ranking, bosses [thank God I love my female boss]) or because she’s your ex’s new girlfriend or because she has something that you want (a child, a fancy car, a house, peace-of-mind, good luck, good fortune, drive & determination, or any combination of the sorts), we are definitely our own worst critics, our biggest unfriendly rival, and our fiercest judges.


Now, I’m not interested in having heart-to-hearts Oprah-style while eating at Panera and maybe getting teary eyed over a scone (my idea of purgatory), but let’s cut each other some slack and not keep living our stereotypes of being bitchy and judgemental.




Thursday, July 5, 2007

Vending Machine Purchases Gone Bad

So I skip breakfast this morning, sacrificing my bowl of Grape Nuts and glass of V8 for 10 minutes on the internet. DAMMIT.  Seeing as how my level of cheapness went from $12 bottle of Aveda shampoo to $0.99 bottle of Sassoon… let’s just say I was a little uneasy going to the vending machine.


I blame my year-old career in Purchasing, but I’m as cheap as it gets now.


::: Thinking to myself :::  “Now why would I buy a 20 oz. pop from the vending machine for $1.10 when I can buy, like, 6 cans of pop from the store for the same price?!”  Of course, I do realize this is the ultimate in cheapness, it’s like, JUST PAY THE DAMN DOLLAR AND GET A SODA FOR GOD’S SAKE!   It’s not as if I am totally cheap – I will still drop pretty pennies on clothes, vacations, shoes, purses, books, music, etc.  It’s just this random, doesn’t-make-any-sense cheapness about commodities that I’ve recently developed.


Anyway, so at this point, I’ve mentally committed to my Vending Machine Purchase. I was having lunch with a supplier today anyway, so what’s a little bit of coin in the machine going to do, I “saved” money by not going out to lunch.


So, first mistake – in my attempt to get a Diet Coke, I somehow end up with Coke Zero VANILLA.  You’ve got to be kidding me, people.  WHO INVENTED THIS, and WHERE DO THEY LIVE?!  I’m saying this in a bad way, as Coke Zero Vanilla is a bad, bad idea. Like, Barry Manilow plastic surgery bad.  ::: Shudder :::  (See: Perez Hilton)


You’d think my bad luck ended there. You are, and always will be, wrong.


Next stop: food machine.  So much to choose from… who knew they had Chocolate Payday?!  And why didn’t you tell me sooner?  And Lorna Doone.  Excuse me for sounding like an old lady, but DAAAAYUM those are good.   (Open Note to Lorna Doone people:  A little redo of your packaging would go a lonnnng way.)


So, foregoing the sugary sweet treats that looked so tempting, but not wanting to negate my hour of cardio yesterday, I opt for a healthier treat.  Like maybe some baked Cheetos.  Or Salsa Sun Ships.  Or Caribou Granola Bar!  OH THE CHOICES!!


So, I decide to go for the baked Cheetos.  Can’t go wrong there. 


Well, maybe you can go wrong, let’s say, by pushing B2 instead of B4.  


Now, not only do I have to endure Coke Zero Vanilla, I also have the joy of eating, nay, wasting UNSALTED TRAIL MIX.  Worst $1.85 I ever spent!


P.S. Quite possibly, one of the worst blogs ever posted, yes I’m well aware, but also out of the blogging-loop.

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