Monday, July 29, 2013

With great power comes great responsibility.

So…. I may have abused my power a bit at work today.

None of my call and responses were getting the kids to calm down and pay attention so I simply yelled:

“SAY MY NAME" — immediately the other staff caught on and yelled “LOKI" so I yelled again “SAY MY NAME" / “LOKI" / “SAY MY NAME" / “LOKI" / “SAYYY MYYY NAAAAAME" / “LOOOOOKI" 
*finger over mouth*….*silence*

and now our camp has a new favorite call and response. <3

Come along Pond.

I have decided that if I ever have a daughter - she will be named Amelia Pond. Yes. After the Doctor Who character. Yes. Her middle name will be Pond. Yes. You're all jealous you didn't think of it first.

Here is my thinking...

Not only is Amelia one of the most beautiful names for a girl but the character is also known as "the girl who waited". Amy Pond is a character so full of hope and imagination that it defines her entire being.. and that is how I want my little girl to see the world. I want her to live such a rich and vibrant life that when it's over she looks back and sighs with contentment; even if it is only lived through the stories she reads.

But let's be honest. There is one burning reason why my daughter will be named Amelia Pond and that is this: "Come along Pond." Have you ever heard a phrase that fills you with more warmth and love? Every time I hear the Doctor utter those words I get chills. So simple yet so full. Their relationship just is. There isn't any sexual tension or jealousy they just work together in a way only soul-mates exploring life can and it is all summed up in that one phrase. Come along Pond. My precious daughter will have no choice but to feel that love and endearment every time her middle name is spoken. It is different, it is unique, it means something.

As I've stated before, my parental units are quite top shelf. However, they were not the ones who introduced me to the world of reading. I was that strange child who would wander off in the classroom towards the bookshelf and not be seen again for hours. No one knows where my love of literature "came from" but you will not be able to say the same about my children. I cannot wait to fill their world with magic and stories and dreams come true. They will be raised with a firm understanding of Neil Gaiman's quote: "Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." They will believe in Hogwarts long after the mysteries of Santa and the Tooth Fairy are debunked. And they will be encouraged to create anything and everything they can find inside themselves. 

I can't wait. <3


-MP

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Funny - es-ca-pe is spelled just like escape!


This morning I got into a bit of a quarrel with the birth-giver. Long story short: she's crazy, I'm entitled, and we're both hormonal -- it happens. Anywho, I got sick of quarantine and decided that instead of eating all of the chocolate I had stashed in my room (because of course my mini-fridge contains only chocolate and wine -- I'm a lady, don't you know!) that I would rope one of my friends into an adventure. He was hesitant at first but being the amazing, supportive, wonderful guy (in case he's reading ;-) you're the best! <3) that he is he agreed to submit himself to my will for the evening. Little did he know that "my will" was an hour and a half drive in traffic to the middle of a shady part of LA where there resides a magical land known only as "The Last Bookstore".

I had heard tell of this fantastic bookstore on the interweb but I abhor Los Angeles so vehemently that not even the siren call of a mystical shrine to literature could lure me into its pits on a good day. But this was far from a good day, and there - in the City of Angeles - I knew my only escape was waiting. So North we drove, and lost we got, and eventually we made our way into a spectacular building filled with books and art and people, just like me, getting their leather-bound fix.

My friend spent most of his time following me around and silently laughing as a smelled each cover and fondled each spine. I, however, practically pranced through the stacks all around me - refueling my soul, body, and mind. The downstairs alone was well worth the drive. We found ourselves in a large open room with bookshelves as far as the eye can see, an area for vinyl records, and a style of music I've never before heard drifting all around us. No shelf escaped my wandering eyes and just touching these pieces of literature brought me back closer and closer to a happy reality.

Then we wandered up the stairs -- into "The Labyrinth" -- and I don't care how cliche it sounds, it took my breath away. The first stretch (pictured above) was simply books of every color arranged in a rainbow. Like, why? Why not! I do believe I squealed when my eyes finally took it all in. We wandered for hours and I could have stayed for days but alas, reality beckoned and I was forced to tear myself off life support and head back home. 

As we were stuck in traffic my friend just kept asking why I didn't buy anything. I had no better answer than, I didn't need to. Just being in the environment, a place filled with nothing but books - so many lives and stories and adventures just waiting to be uncovered - was more than enough for me.

In the end, it was well worth 3 hours in the car and a trip to my least favorite city in the world for a few moments of rejuvenation in what is honestly the greatest bookstore I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. If you have the means, I highly recommend getting yourself over there! <3

- MP

Saturday, July 27, 2013

You know you found your best friend when...


Just two best friends.. being stupid. We were trying to play around with harmonies but it all went horribly wrong -- resulting in fantastic fun and sensational laughter... enjoy. <3

-MP

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Humphrey Bogart... and other men who ruin lives.

Today at work, one of my coworkers told me he had had a dream about me last night (don't get excited.. not that kind of dream! pervs). Apparently in his dream, all of our coworkers were at a party and he had brought along a guy for the implicit reason of setting us up together. He explained that three different times in the dream he had tried to introduce me to this guy who was "absolutely perfect for me" and all three times, in true Princess fashion-- I simply said I was too busy watching TV to be bothered. Now, not only does this tell me that my coworker knows me WAY too well, but it also brings up a very interesting point... I tend to invest my time in fantastic fictional characters rather than in possible romantic realities.

I have always been that way. The issue for me has never been a lack of interest from the male species but simply a lack of interest for them -- at least the real ones, that is. In high school, while all of my friends were exploring the wonderful world of dating I was reading my way through Lord of the Rings, the Enderverse, and every John Green novel I could get my hands on - whilst simultaneously allowing myself to be absorbed into the on screen worlds found in Princess Bride, Star Wars, and classic movies like Casablanca; becoming so emotionally invested that these works of fiction could drive me to my knees in tears while the boys at school couldn't get me on my knees for anything. ;-) What can I say? I simply wasn't impressed.

Rick Blaine, Han Solo, Ronald Weasley, Malcolm Reynolds, Julian Delphinki, Samwise Gamgee, Lloyd Dobler, Ferris Bueller, John Bender, Dr. Henry Walton "Indiana" Jones, Jr., Westley the Farm Boy, The Hatter, Marty McFly, Edward Rochester, Connor Temple, Fitzwilliam Darcy, Percy Jackson, Kvothe Kingkiller, Sherlock Holmes, The Doctor, Jon Snow, Augustus Waters, Lysander, Lee Adama, Prince Cornelius, and so so so many more... All men who have captured my heart and taken me on adventures to see the farthest corners of the universe without ever once holding my hand -- simply put, how is a real man to compete?

Well, I do know one way... The man who will win my heart will be the one who doesn't try to pull me out of my delusional haze, but instead reaches a hand through the thick fog and holds mine as we walk together through the fictional lands that have kept me hopeful and alive every day of my life. Read to me, write to me, imagine with me. Then maybe, just maybe, he will make the list, too. <3

-MP

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Outgoing Introverts -- The Hermit Behind the Facade

ALERT: This is a Public Services Announcement on behalf of those suffering from Closet Introversia.

Individuals living with this condition are needlessly suffering day after day with no end in sight. They are people, just like you, who are currently living in fear of exposure. What would people think? Would anyone understand? How would people treat them if the truth came out?

They could be your brother, your friend, or your neighbor down the street. People you have known for years who are constantly the life of the party, never afraid to make a fool of themselves, and function almost unbelievably well in social situations. I am here to tell you of the burden they bare -- They are Introverts.

Hello. I'm Chelsea, and I am living with Closet Introversia.

From birth, I have been an outgoing creature by nature and have never been one to shy away from the stage. I enjoy attention much more than the average person and make my presence known at almost every possible moment. However, growing up, and all through high school / college, I discovered side effects of my social going-ons that didn't seem to plague those around me in quite the same way. After a mere week's run of a show I was in, or a simple camping trip with friends, I would return stricken with exhaustion and/or illness requiring me to take time off from school and other social settings.

As I have gotten older, the amount of energy exerted in relation to the backlash of exhaustion has decreased significantly and I have spent much time trying to understand why. Recently, I discovered and embraced the truth. I am an Introvert.

The best description of "Introversion" that I have collected is that an Introvert is a person who gives off energy to others in a social situation. They go into a party with a full tank and as they interact with others they are having the fuel siphoned off until they hit empty. In order to refuel, the Introvert must spend some quality alone time, quietly reflecting or engaging in meaningful activities such as reading, writing, painting, yoga, video games, movies, guitar, baking, hiking, driving, sleeping, etc.

Now on the other hand we have Extroverts, people who go into social situations in order to gain fuel, or recharge from the people around them. Both are perfectly acceptable ways to function and for the most part go hand in hand. However, there is a certain stigma around Introverts that makes it difficult for some of us to recharge in peace.

When the title Introvert is assigned it is usually to a person who is quiet, shy, or withdrawn. They are rarely the center of attention and in social situations are usually found on the outskirts of the group. Therefore, when someone is seen at the center of it all, juggling and balancing penguins on their head while dancing on a pogo stick, they are automatically categorized by others as an Extrovert. When that person begins to nosedive after being drained of their fuel supply (see juggling/penguin/pogo stick act), people cannot understand their sudden shift in mood and do not know how to properly give them the space they need. When I have found myself in these situations I have even experienced people going so far as to tell me I'm suddenly being "rude" for no longer being the life of the party -- I'm sorry, I was unaware that was my job.

Since discovering the healing power of alone time and its affects on my soul, I have been more able to healthily balance my social life without losing my "cool" and having the world turn against me. However, I still struggle daily with having to tell people no. Being an Outgoing Introvert is like being a One Stop Truck Stop - people flock to you because you not only fill them up but also entertain them at the same time. You will find you are often on everyone's list of people to see and if you say yes to everything you will quickly learn that you cannot keep up with anything.

If you or a loved one are suffering from Closet Introversia - please - talk about it. Clear the air and help one another understand. The more you treat the condition with loving solitude and creative outlets the more you will be able to continue your honorable role as the ever shining sun in the lives of those around you.

-MP

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Misophonia

There is most certainly a reason that the natural progression of life has children moving out of their homes at 18. You get to this point in your life and you spread your wings and fly off to the mystical land known as a University and live happily ever after, missing your parents just enough when you're away, and then visiting for brief, loving, holiday breaks only to return to your personal palace when the semester begins again.

Unfortunately some of us were brutally beaten down by the evil troll known as the economy and were forced to live at home through our college years. Now, don't get me wrong -- I love my parents. As far as parental units go, mine are pretty much the tits. However, after 22 years under their benevolent reign, I have discovered some rather annoying traits that they both harbor and use against me daily.

For starters -- you should all know that I suffer from a mild case of Misophonia. (def: literally meaning "hatred of sound," a condition characterized by a diminished ability to tolerate certain noises, including everyday noises such as talking, chewing, or yawning. - medterms.com). Now I should also clarify that my Misophonia is unbelievably selective and centers almost entirely around the sounds of my father eating.

The man drives me mad. It has gotten to the point where when he starts making himself a meal I move into the other room. Where normal people would be called out for "slurping" soup, I have to remind my father that biting the metal spoon every time it enters his mouth is completely unnecessary and makes a sound so unbearable it causes my teeth ache. He is also "so manly" that all of his food is required to be heated to a point such that he CANNOT close his mouth when eating it. Upon being asked why he prefers his food scorching to the point of pain he replies, "because it tastes better." (I'm sure you can all feel my eyes rolling back into my head as I try to understand how one can even taste something over the pain of hell upon one's tongue.)

Please, do not even get me started on the procession that is eating cereal - let alone Rice Frakking Krispies. I love my father to pieces but I am about one spoonful of peanut butter away from sewing his mouth shut and installing a G-tube. /rant. <3

-MP