Just woke up thrashing because I had a dream a white benga tiger was attacking me.
What the hell.
Author: meisaj
Living in the Cleve
Squeaky Bones
While walking this week I heard a very low squeak noise with every step I took. At first I thought I was imagining it. The I thought it really was coming from my hip, or titanium, or something. It happened while I was wearing my glasses and I thought that was it.
It would always happen at work. As soon as I got home it would stop. It took me until today to figure it out. It was my belt. Somehow, despite never having done it in the past, my belt now squeaks with every step. Makes me feel mechanical or something.
Just… Weird.
Favorite Noise
I have a favorite noise. Its not a secret. I tell lots of people.
I sometimes wonder if other people have favorite noises. It may be an odd thing to have a favorite of, but whatever. A long time ago I decided my favorite noise was from those disposable cameras. That slight noise they make when you charge up the flash. You have to hold the camera up to your ear to hear it, but its there, and it is quite awesome.
I haven’t heard it in a long time. In the age of cameras on cell phones and inexpensive digital cameras a disposable one isn’t much use, but for some reason I thought of that sound yesterday. Brought those warm fuzzy feelings of the hearing the flash back to the forefront.
Black Ninja of Death
Click the picture to enlarge it.
A Bounce
I love having a bouncy ball with me. I bounce it walking down the halls at work. I bounce it walking down the sidewalk by my apartment. I bounce it at stores and friends’ houses. It is how I relax. Its how I center myself.
I once read that playing a high concentration sport was great for stress. The article cited tennis. You have to focus all your energy on the game when you play tennis. It is similar to meditation. A focusing of your mind on the present. Forgetting all the rest of the stuff around you, ignoring the world except the immediate surroundings.
The bouncy ball does that for me. I have to focus on it. I have to relax while bouncing it. If I’m not focused on it I miss the ball and have to chase after it. I’m pretty good at it to. Got all the angles down so to say.
So when I walk down the sidewalk bouncing the ball, I have a smile on my face. I’m sure people are staring at me. I’m sure people are wondering what’s going on in my head. Essentially I love it. Its different. Its rather unique (come on… when’s the last time you saw a grown man – and I think at 33 I qualify as grown – bouncing a bouncy ball in public).
It’s me. It fits.
Here Comes the Grey
I kinda wonder if its time to give up the good fight. Sam has hinted at it several times. My grey hairs are getting more and more in number. Not overwhelming, and not visible unless you’re looking for them, but they are there.
I every get them in my beard. What of a beard I can grow that it. But in my beard I get more orange hairs than grey. They orange hairs perplex me because I have dark brown hair. But whatever. I’m ok with orange hairs, grey, that’s old man hair.
I may 33, only a two and change months away from 34 (older than Christ as I like to say). But greys…. not something I need.
So…..
I have Sam pluck them with tweezers. Its not really cause I’m shallow or concerned about them, but its more like a game. “GASP. See that grey hair. How did you miss it last time?” (never mind that last time was over a month ago).
So yeah… I have grey hair. Quite a few of them. But they hide nicely underneath the top hair layer until its plucking time.