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My friend, Lee, shared this poem with me a lot of years ago, because he loved it. It was probably some night where we'd all been drinking and were at that point where you talk a lot of ... well, you know. Anyway, I still have it pinned up at home. I was recently asked by someone to provide some poems and gave them this. Lee also introduced me to I know a man by Robert Creeley.
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens. - William Carlos Williams
Beat's the hell out of spinster (yetch), bachelor, bachelor girl, girlfriend, boyfriend, wife, husband and finance... sounds less like a label and more like you are a healthy normal person despite your relationship status - I like it.
Quirkyalone: n. a person who enjoys being single (or spending time alone) and so prefers to wait for the right person to come along rather than dating indiscriminately; relishing equal doses of solitude and friendship; attracted to freedom and possibility.
Also adj.: The condition of being equally at home with singledom and being in a healthy relationship, undivided, whole. Of, relating to, or embodying quirkyalones. definition | website
So this morning, I'm on a jam-packed bus and this guy sitting in a seat says to another guy standing with his back to him hanging on to the rail, 'so what are you up to today
'. The other older guy makes some comment - I assume they are father and son. Then the younger guy says, 'Just making conversation mate, you know filling in time by talking to people on the bus
' (can you *imagine* someone talking to a stranger on a regular bus...! :) The mood lightens, the older guy tells younger guy he works for a bank. Then younger guy quizzes everyone around him. Quite amusing.
I think the younger guy made my day just because not only did he brave being thought of as a nutter by talking to strangers on the bus, he actually got people to participate. Once upon a time, no one thought anything of yakking to strangers... now we live in a society where we are more comfortable sharing our inner most secrets with a stranger in a chat room rather than sharing the most general details of our life in a face to face situation with a stranger where you can gauge body language, etc and make judgements about your safety. - Thursday, 21 October 2004
My flatmate sent me the following text message... Was I humilated? Oh yes! Blasted tortoises.
"Be careful where you leave clothes when the creatures are out... found big one near choking himself with your nickers."
Woah. Scary.
I walked past a deskspace today that had so many little, bright fluffy toys (?beanie babies) that you really, honestly couldn't see the desk, the walls, nor the person. I wish I had a camera phone, because no explanation can do it justice. Some of them were lying on a Port Power scarf.
contributed by Ms Boot
Everyone keeps sending me links, emails, etc in order to inspire me to donate blood. It's like the latest craze. I actually donate blood anyway so please rest assured I will share my common as mud blood with others. For those of you who are not registered with the blood bank as a blood donor but want to donate blood, visit the Australian Red Cross Blood Bank. (And, while we're discussing blood, here's a true urban myth (yes, yes i know my sentence is an oxymoron) - Blood Money)
.the.silver.lining.is.lead.
Australia says no to violence against women... but what about violence against men? Australia should say no to violence, regardless of who is the victim.
In order to protest at George W Bush's inauguration for his second term of presidency you had to get a ticket to get into the protest areas, thus numbers were limited. If it looked like a lot less protesters than you expected, it probably was. Tickets were limited. In a country that boasts freedom of speech.
I was talking to a friend, and she said when she saw footage on the news she saw the protesters holding up signs and thought, 'protesters'. The news, however, referred these same protesters (and yes, they were holding up angry signs) as people who came out in support Bush. There you go.