Straddling the Rubicon

About twice a year, I have dreams in which I'm able to sing, and to sing wonderfully well. My voice is rich and nimble, and can hit any note in any octave. Plus, the songs are my very own, ones that I have never heard before, neither in my dreams nor in real life.

It's a fabulous feeling: free, unteathered, fully in tune and at ease with the entire world. If I were to compare it to the world of food, the best parallel would be rich, dark, chocolate brownies with nuts. The voice and the songs are simply there, like a plate of brownies, allowing me to savor them at my own leisure. The closest comparable real-world voices that I can think of are Andrea Bocelli and Aretha Franklin, perhaps even a combination of the two.

But then I wake up...and the voice is gone. It stays in that other world. And I find myself lying there with absolutely no musical voice, and even more depressing, no musical talent at all. But I know it was there in my dream world. It was my voice, my capability, my songs--not songs or talent that I was merely imitating. The songs were new, complex, and my music.

Yet, I just can't seem to bring them into this world. They stay in that other world, and they quickly slide back behind all the scenery there, no longer at my disposal, no longer at my reach, gone, gone and fully unretrievable. All I am left with is a set of dry, scratchy vocal cords that have no ability, no memory, no trace of that other world. I ask myself "Where did my voice go?," "Why did it leave me?, "Why is it being denied to me?," "Why has this world hidden the key to it?," "Why can't I bring it over with me?"

OK, now I have done my complaining and wallowed in my own soupy mud of self-pity. And I am left with one clear reality: Most people are like me.

But there are a few who are not. They can carry the ability with them as they step back and forth across that divide. They don't have to leave the key on the other side. They have it squarely in hand both here and there.

Sigh. There's nothing left to do but admire them. And be glad that at least a few of us can bring the two world's together. So hats off to Aretha, Alicia, Jennifer, Andrea, Marvin, Stevie, to name just a few.

Flipfloppers

Time for a few critters from the barrel of topsy-turvy sayings:

Our neighborhood has a peeping Mary.

The worst of the teams victoriously captured last place.

The school of blind sharks fell into a feeling frenzy.

Everyone hopes the new President will send everything spiralling into control.

His failure to pass the bar exam proved to be a downlifting experience.

In other words (see previous sentence), things simply panned in.

The economy unexpectedly went belly down.

She won the fight because she's the only one who chickened in.

The ship loaded with styrofoam sank like a balloon.

He probably would've won if he hadn't tiptoed out of steam.

As my boss always said: "Don't get your hopes down."

Pea-Ventor Wanted

One of my favorite foods is green peas. I also like them with carrots. The green and orange color scheme is half the fun. The combined effect is either very English or very Japanese (read: sushi).

Yet, I am surprised that the fun stops there. There are so many other colors left untapped: blue, red, yellow, indigo, violet, and numerous shades inbetween. This seems like it would be an instant hit on the foods market. Just think, a bowl of peas covering the entire color spectrum. I bet a lot of people would buy them, and not only families with children. I know I would. And I bet all our troops in different parts of the world would enjoy the cheerful, kidlike pleasure of having one corner of their mess hall platter filled with ROYGBIV peas. Some of the more inventive of them would probably even try out their architectural skills with the peas, much as they did with mult-colored building blocks when little kids.

ROYGBIV peas would also stir up memories of Lifesavers and M&Ms. They could even be used in psychological evaluations. Highly regimented personalities would quickly be revealed: They would probably divide the peas up into single-color groups, and the most rigid of these personalities would create pyramids or circles, etc., of the individual groups.

Chaotic personalities would madly mix the entire bowl of peas so that absolutely no pattern of order would be recognizable. And the more chaotic the personality, the more the peas would end up on the table, on the chair, in the drinking glass, and on the floor.

Then there would be all the other personalities that occupy the scale between the above two extremes.

But first someone has to take the step to invent the above idea. I'm to lazy, plus I know too little about botanicals. Anyone out there want to take the next step?

P.S.: Putting a tiny little smiley face on each pea would also be a good idea!

Mr. Curly

Today is a solid winter day. The temperature is slightly fluctuating around the freezing point. The daylight hours are diminishing. Night is here at 4:30 in the afternoon (but I shouldn't complain -- in my last city, Hamburg, it arrives at 3:30 p.m.). Outside, a deep fog is draped over the city. I'm glad I no longer drive because I can't see further than 20 feet down the street. But there is a fascinating side to it all. Everything outside feels soft, and sounds are definitely muted. I suspect that dogs love such a day. I saw a black poodle at the bus stop today. Well, I saw him sometimes. His owner didn't have to keep him on a leash. He was the type that didn't wander far. But he did wander back and forth into the darkness and fog, spending a few moments at his owner's heels before wandering off again to inspect something else. As he wandered into the darkness, I felt a bit of anxiety, worried that he might not find his way back. But he did, every time. Eventually, his owner got on the bus and the dog hopped on afterwards, without needing a word of instruction. In fact, his owner spent all of this time talking to someone else, never even looking at the dog. A very loose, loyal relationship.

A Hird of Werds

puman: cross between a large cat and a homo sapiens

Windoes®: pack of female deer that hit the Microsoft jackpot

jailouts: automobile executives who failed to convince Congress to rescue them

molar bear: a grizzly toothache

sirmometer: instrument that determines whether a fellow merits a noble title

pudgets: middle-age accountants who never set foot in a gym

panholes: asphalt blemishes best filled with fried eggs

emmagration: a 1918 influx of winsome lasses from Great Britain

exformation: stuff you used to know but have now completely forgotten

Wattch: timepiece powerful enough to run your Blackberry for months

Lithiumuania: former East Bloc country where no one ever gets depressed

hendoo: hairstyle popular among Mumbai chickens

goobernatorial campayne: bubbly beverage consumed by peanuts running for public office

E-Mail With a Female

(Absolutely nothing to post today, so I will fill the space with a recent thread that is just as meaningful as all the other posts here. All parties shall, of course, remain a nonny muss. TT)

Yes, Kielbasa and Klebsiella are second cousins once removed. Unfortunately, I do not know where they were removed from, although I suspect that it is Krakow, the King Kapital of all things spelled with a big K. After all, where do you thing Kellogg's Korn FlaKes originated.

My boss was in a very big pissy mood today. But I don't think I was the reason (or at least not all of it). Perhaps she should also eat some KillBossa.

One thing that I have noticed about getting older: all fragments of time (seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years) seem to go by faster and faster. I hardly remember the months of September, October, and November at all. In my head, yesterday is August. I do not know what tomorrow is, even though it may be a big glob of barbequed klebsiella. Oh me, I am going Manik! Stop me! STOP ME!!


From: MissOnymousTo: Thorsten TaylorSent: Thursday, December 4, 2008 12:03:44 AMSubject: Re: it's a wrap!
as far as I know, autoclaves are the way. We have an appropriately grouchy lab tech who wonders in and out of lab grabbing tubes which were put in the wrong bin and waving them in the professor's face. Its very reassuring.

I need access to that Enthaline whathaveyou. gas everything! kill it all!

is Klebsiella related to Kielbasa? Do Germans have Kielbasa, and if they do does it resemble what we call Kielbasa? Some of my most delicious childhood meals involved peppridge farm kielbasa cooked to a rock solid consistancy in a microwave. now that is some tasty stuff.

we found a nice hole in the wall mexican place here. the mexican here is suprisingly bad, i dont know if it is the distance between LA and SF, and they decided to forget how to make good food on the way. but this place is very basic and lovely and I am in love with their pork chimichanga. no walnuts, goat cheese or reduction of anything in site. MMMMMMM

and yet, the guacamole sucks. how sad to be looking forward to the food in bakersfield!


On Wed, Dec 3, 2008 at 2:19 PM, Thorsten Taylor wrote:
Ahhhh, you clinched old Klebsiella! I always loved her. She was a mischievous rascal. BTW, does the micro lab still use autoclaves, or have all of them been replaced by something cool and electronic?

Congrats on finishing all that studying (for now at least). If you are still sick in a week, try putting your intestinal track in the autoclave for 20 minutes. You will never feel better!



From: MissOnymousTo: Thorsten TaylorSent: Wednesday, December 3, 2008 10:49:59 PMSubject: Re: it's a wrap!

they are wonderful, although I am not too sure about your substitutions. I can handle them all, but goat cheese with a tortilla just sounds wrong.

How distressing to come home from a week of enteric bacteriology and come down with a stomach bug.. UGH!

I finished my micriobio papers and had a ball. I am helping everyone in class now, i think i like that part best, making it real and interesting to people.

I got my unknown enteric right too! even though it was a real bugger. Klebsiella pneumoniae and it wouldnt turn red. little bugger.

On Wed, Dec 3, 2008 at 10:08 AM, Thorsten Taylor wrote:
O Mussy Mussy Me!! Why are burritos so sinfully satisfying?? I just ate four, prepared by my one (no longer so) little self. They were wonderful even though I had to substitute refried beans with navy beans, lettuce with cabbage and carrots, and queso de burrito with French goat cheese. Now I shall groan until midnight, at which time I will probably eat another one.

This Month's Top Ten

Justin Timbercat / Fry Me a Liver

Nutty Berry / I Kissed a Squirrel

Tickleback / Hee-hee-hee-HEEEEEEEEE-ROOOOO!

Beehanna / Humbrella

Eminenema / Just Lose It!

Buoyonce / If I Were a Koi

PINKing shears / Sew WHAT?

Lay-Z / Lazy in Love

Stinkin' Shark / Shadow of the (Manta)Ray


Spitney Beers / Oops...I Drank It Again!