Bloggerstock: Photo Inspired

I'm so pleased, this month, to be hosting K. Syrah!  I don't read many social commentary blogs (they're a little too biased for me), but K. has one I've been gladly following for a long time, now.  Be sure to check it out.  I'm certain her bit of writing from our photo inspired topic (how cool is that) will make you want to visit.  Now, on to the post.

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I’m K. Syrah, I blog at Shoes Never Worn, and this is a story about a Dad and his little girl. 

            He watched her grow up, in tiny shoes, and tiny socks, with floral dresses and mismatched little caps on golden curls. He remembered tying her hair up into little pigtails, combing the ringlets and ticking her under her arms until she squealed and giggled with delight.

            He lifted her up, propping her on his shoulders when the Christmas parade came into town, just so she could see over the heads of the on-lookers. Her little gently hands wrapped around his forehead as she laughed she pointed and gawked at the fat man in red, with his wavy white beard.

            Then came the day when she didn’t need him to do her hair, to tie her shoes, or to put a little bow in her sundress.

            She stopped reaching for his hand, and she crossed the road on her own. First looking over her shoulder to see if it was okay, then later, looking straight ahead, because she knew it was okay.

            Her little hands were swinging freely at her side, and he watched her grow up tall until the day came that all fathers dread; the day their little girl thrusts her hip to the side, with a stubborn hand on her belt loop, looks at him with defiant eyes.

            “As long as you live under this roof, young lady, you’ll obey our rules!”

            Then, she wasn’t under his roof anymore and she drifted even further; across the country, to a college dorm room. She’s talking to boys, saying, doing and acting like she can cross the road without him over her shoulder.

            But she’s just a kid, in tiny shoes, and golden curls.

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You can check out my post at co-founder Alex Weisman's blog!  And, of course, you can sign up to participate in the next Bloggerstock through the home site.

Bloggerstock: Stop the World I Want to Get On/Off

It's Bloggerstock time again!  Don't forget to check out my post at the ever-funny Good Music, Bad Math.  With a name like that how can it not be good?  My guest, Jessica has a great blog and has written me a really great post!  She's also introduced herself.  So, without further ado...

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Thank you to Kris for hosting me for Bloggerstock! I also want to ask all of you to check out the great and wonderful Lily on my blog Cerebral Lunchbox.

Now, I’ve procrastinated enough, so I guess I should really get on with it. 

Stopping the world.  It sounds like a nice proposition.  I first thought about all those painful moments that I wanted to escape or hide.

But then my mind turned the to moments that linger even more powerfully in my mind.  Those moments that I want to freeze the world and hold the moment for just a few more seconds.  Or hours, or years.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you a laundry list of precious moments that will mean nothing to you because you weren’t there.  You’d just roll your eyes and skip to the next blog.  Or maybe laugh at my moments and joke about them.

No, instead, I want you to think about those times in your life.  The moments that to you encapsulate what it means to be alive, in whatever state you might have been: radiant, wistful, triumphant or simply content.

Those moments, however brief, are more powerful because they were so short.  Because we couldn’t stop the world, we couldn’t become bored with the sensations.  We can replay those moments and they still feel fresh and important.

Life is short, too short many times.  But that’s what makes life so precious.

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What is it about us creative types?  We can go on and on about something we've created, but when asked about ourselves we suddenly clam up.  Well, I'm no different, so bear with me.  Where will I go from here?  Who knows, but I know now that one way or another I'll see my name in print (even if it's in the local blotter sheet for a caffeine induced crime spree.)

Bloggerstock: What Inspires You?

It's Bloggerstock time again!  I'm hosting the lovely Lily (see below) with a really great post!  Feel free to visit my post which is, once again, hosted over at Michael's blog!  Isn't this a great topic for the end of the year?  On to the inspiration!

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Why, hello there! My name is Lily and I write for a little blog called Is it too early for a martini? I’m writing on “Because or Why Not” because both Kris and I signed up for a cool project called Bloggerstock. Each month there is a different topic. This month, the topic is “What or who inspires you to do whatever it is that you do be it blogging, writing, school or your job”. Be sure to check out my blog and read what inspires Riley from Wayfaring Warrior. 

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Different things and people inspire me to do different things. 

But the one who takes the cake is my little sister, Alejandra. 

Even before she was born, I always wanted a sister. I hated that I only had an older brother, and that he was kind of mean to me. He would punch me and take my allowance. And then would threaten me with another punch if I told my parents that he took my money. He stopped taking my money when I learned to punch back, and punch back harder. 

Before my sister and I become friends, I was a typical kid experiencing middle-child syndrome. My older brother is the only boy so he got all of attention, and my sister was the baby so she got alot of attention. And in my mind as a 10 to 19 year old, I could be doing flips in the middle of the street with on coming traffic and no one would care. 

But I was wrong. 

I guess I never noticed it; I was in my own little world. Unnecessary partying in high school, not focusing enough through my first round of college, and being too busy trying to find someone to fix a broken heart. Though I thought no one was paying attention to the destructive things I was doing, I had a little sister who was growing up and was taking notes. I had to sit back and reevaluate my life and how I was making decisions. Do I want my little sister to feel like me? Do I want her to think that what I’m doing is right? No and no.  

To me it’s kind of sad that I didn’t realize that she looked up to me. I feel dumb that it didn’t even cross my mind. I am her only sister. And I am her older sister. I never wanted to be a role model for anyone. Nor did I know how to be an older sister. Still, I stepped up. 

My sister is now at the same age where I started doing things that, in hindsight, I regret. I told my boyfriend that I didn’t want her to do the same things I did, and that she should enjoy her childhood. I do think I grew up way too fast- kind of like all the Disney kids, but not as glamourous … but a bit more alcohol and drugs. His response was “then you have to give her the talk”. I didn’t think that was my job. She has parents… they could do it… but then he responded with “who do you think she’ll listen to more? Your dad and stepmom or you?”.  I hate it when he’s right.

I’m not trying to toot my own horn, or say I’m the best sister ever. Because I’m not. I’m human, and I have a low patience level. I try to be as best as I can. 

She inspires me because I see myself in her. I want her to be better than me. Even if that means she’s actually better than me.  

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As two of my favorite people have said (Kanye West and Tyler Sutherland): “One bad bitch from the Chi-city, crusin down Lakeshore doin’ at least a buck fity”. Okay, maybe not so much. But I do live in Chicago, but obey all speed limits, unless I’m running late for work. 

This Entire Post is Borrowed

(ThatOnePhotographer)

I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought
how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in.

A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.

-Virginia Woolf

Bloggerstock: The Story of What's on Your Desk

It's Bloggerstock time again!  Sorry, I just love saying that.  If you don't know what it is yet there are places you should go.  I am absolutely thrilled to be hosting the lovely Amber of Fugitive Firefly (see bio below).  I, in turn, am making an appearance over at Ms. Harmony.  Who is, btw, responsible for the insanely cool new badges you'll see kicking around the blogosphere today.  Visit these links, you won't regret it.  And now I bring you the point of today, the guest post.

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The story of what's on my desk? Well we'll just ignore the pile on the right. There's no story there, just pure laziness preventing me from sorting through the stuff and filing it away. There are, however, a couple items on my desk that are itching to tell you a tale.

"Did you know that she didn't even want me? Yeah, it's true. She wanted that spiffy green Dell, not me, a bland HP. That must be why she treats me the way she does. She force quits various programs, grumbles at my slowness, all the while placing a water bottle dangerously close to me. I've tried to tell her it's Vista, not me, but she doesn't care. I got her through three years of college so far, but my time may be up when she gets her degree. Nothing like spending your life unappreciated."

"I sit on the shelf just above the weeping HP and I used to make her cry. Amber, that is, not the HP. For a long while she saw me as something that had been lost, that couldn't be revived. She used to wonder why she kept me around, why she hadn't swapped me out for some other photo. Honestly, it's quite simple. I'm a fond memory and she's realized that the present shouldn't sour the past. After three years, I still smile at her... and now she smiles back." 

Wow, the HP and photo made me sound like a horrid, emotional person. I swear I'm not really like that. Ok, maybe a bit emotional once a month, but not I'm not that mean to my computer. Most of the time.

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She's an athlete, a book worm, a math and science fanatic, a part time rennie, and a college student who, for reasons unknown, doesn't like writing in first person.

Visit her truly genuine blog Fugitive Firefly

Bloggerstock: What is Your Theme Song?

It's Bloggerstock time once again.  This time we opened the madness to the general blogging public, and are proud to have had such a great turn out!  Visit our site to sign up for the next one.  You know it looks like fun!

Today I'm posting over at Michael's excellent blog, React/Impact.  Come, visit, read!  Follow the ring and discover music that I, along with others, love.  I am hosting a post from Amogh over at Cloned Warrior.  His amusing blog hails from one of my favourite cities in the world.  Read his bio at the bottom.  Without further ado, I give you Bloggerstock!

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Hmmm.... The moment I saw this topic I started imagining firecrackers going off along with loud rock music in my head.  I could see myself wearing tight pants, making a grand entrance as if I was going to fight in a BIG SHOW!

However, this topic made me think hard, 'coz I'm no professional wrestler. Though it is true that life is like a wrestling match where you have to defend when the tide is against you, and attack when you feel the time is right. But this post is neither about wrestling, nor about life and its complexities.

Ok so let’s get to the post before I forget what we are talking about. Frankly speaking, I don't have a theme song.  Though I wanted one after getting to know the topic on bloggerstock. But then my life is way too colorful to have just one theme song. There is this one song by Hoobastank, “the reason,“ which was a smash hit in 2004 and close to my heart.

Lyrics:

i'm not a perfect person. there are many things i wish i didn't do
but i continue learning. i never meant to do those things to you.
and so i have to say before i go, that i just want you to know

i've found a reason for me, to change who i used to be
a reason to start over new, and the reason is you

i'm sorry that i hurt, its something i must live with everyday
and all the pain i put you through, i wish that i could take it all away
and be the one who catches all your tears, thats why i need you to hear

i'm not a perfect person, i never meant to do those things to you
and so i have to say before i go that i just want you to know

i've found a reason for me, to change who i used to be
a reason to start over new, and the reason is you
i've found a reason to show a side of me you didnt know
a reason for all that i do, and the reason is you

The first time I heard this song on MTV I thought that they had written it exclusively for me. When I was in school in my 7^th grade, I talked bad about a girl.  Somehow she came to know about it and then a  mess happened.  When a mess happens it happenee happens. She cried for, like, a whole week (don’t know why girls are so emotional). Everybody came to know about it. One of my math teachers said, “friendship is like a wooden fence, if there is a hole due to rot you can plug it and paint it over but the scar is always there to be seen.”  Those words still ring in my ears. I felt absolutely gutted and asked for her forgiveness. She never spoke. Don’t know whether she forgave me or not. I'm happy that I learnt my lesson when I was young. Promised myself that I would never ever make others cry. Thankfully I’ve kept that promise.

OMG. I'm getting emotional.  Shit! I’ll never get a girl if I'm like this! 

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Amogh resides in Varanassi, and is an ordinary person between extraordinary people.  He has his own bubble, but is here to meet new people.  His blog is new, so feel free to visit!  Especially if you enjoy either humour, personal, issues or soccer as topics.  And who isn't covered somewhere in there?  

http://clonedwarrior.co.cc/ 

Bloggerstock: The Internet is Eating My...

It's bloggerstock day!  I'm over blogging my take at Mel's wonderful blog, Mel Learns her lesson.  Come visit with me.  Also, if you're unfamiliar with bloggerstock, please check it out.  In short, we're a blog ring all writing about the same topic.  We're opening the craziness to the general blogging public, and would love to have you play.  I'm excited today to be hosting Ella.  She's remarkable.  Read her bio at the bottom.
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My whole self. And I liked it.

I cannot run away,

something compells me to stay,

I don't refuse,

I give myself

to the Internet.


Am I addicted?

Am I obsessed?

Who knows

the

answer to that,

I only know,

that I want

more.

It is with this childish poem that I express my feelings on the topic.

It's just like the Riddler's machine, it's as if the Internet sucked all our energy and intelligence to blend it in a single place. Why do I want to continue with this, even being aware of this idea? I wish I could answer.

Everything I need is in here. That, except for food and drink.

If only my laptop fed me, I guess I wouldn't need to leave the room ever again.

How dangerous.

But dangerous is always fun. Yes, it's fun and that's why I will let the Internet eat all of me, until all there is left of me is my soul.

Ella Unread- Pedestrian between teen years and adulthood...  Terribly random and never afraid to show the way I feel...  Willing to be considered the modern Joseph Conrad one day.  Not an easy goal, I must admit.

The blog: From the STUPIDEST Corner of my Mind

Guest Post: The Best Thing About Being A Blogger

I am pleased to bring you a guest post from Nikki today.  We are both participating in a blogswap over at 20sb.  Did I luck out or what?  You can check out her blog here.  That is where you can also find myself today.  Enjoy!
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First off, I would like to say thank you so much to Kris for letting me invade her blog for the day. I very much enjoyed reading her posts and getting to know her through this blog swap. I look forward to reading more from her.

I know what you're probably thinking....1) who is this weird chick 2) what is an EVILFLU? 3) what's that smell?

and I will answer those all for you right now, just to get the awkwardness out of the way.

1) My name is Nikki and I blog over at http://www.evilflu.com/. My blog is a little bit of everything, but most of it boils down to the life of my son and I after his father passed away. 2) I really can't answer this question without a whole big long blog post (coming soon!) but I will tell you that it represents a change I went through in my life where I turned into a mean old shrew. 3) That smell is probably Oreos and worms as I do have a six year old who pretty much lives in dirt and chocolate.

I am really here to talk to you today about the best thing about being a blogger.

I began blogging back in 2002 when I was working at a boring office job. I would find myself just writing about anything and everything on my blog, mostly immature things that probably could have ended my boring receptionist career on the spot, but I was lucky and traffic was minimal to that blog. I had very few readers who got chuckles from my workday antics and then there were the "trolls" who said I needed to grow up.

Which is funny because I did end up taking their advice and grew up way too quickly. Soon I found myself blogging about childbirth, diapers, cancer, death, grief, loneliness and anger. Even after going through all of that in such a short period of time, blogging was always there as a place for me to let off my steam. I found myself going through the day pretending to be happy, and nobody knew how much it hurt to attend that wedding or hold that newborn baby. When I came home and blogged about it, there were my virtual friends there to let me know they were there for us.

I could post anything and there would always be someone that came by to offer up some encouraging words, excellent advice or just a shoulder to virtually cry on, even if they were all the way across the world. I mean there were the few jerks who would comment "show us your boobs" but some days even those comments were nice. It showed that someone cared (to see some boobage) even when I thought nobody else did.

There really is nothing better than being able to blog about your passions and have somebody be interested to read about them. The difference between telling my stories in person versus on my blog would be the fact that I am a "shy storyteller". I am usually uncomfortable when I make eye contact with someone, when they seem so intensely interested in what I have to say it makes me rush through everything I have to say. I usually end up forgetting the best part of the story and it is gone and forgotten shortly afterwards. I love being able to blog about my story instead and having it be in this virtual "book" forever, along with the reactions of the reader - without having to make awkward eye contact.

So I guess, in a way, I owe my sanity to my blog. To me, the best thing about being a blogger is knowing that someone else is there, encouraging, loving, and caring (about seeing your boobs) and having this space in this virtual world to share my passions - and not my boobs.