"You can't teach an old dog new tricks--because it's illegal." --Michael Scott
I know I've already posted this quotation on my blog, but given today's subject I thought you'd forgive me a repeat. Plus, when is Michael Scott a bad idea?
What is age anyway but the day you get sent to earth, and yet it rules so many things: who gets to tell whom what is right and wrong, who gets to sit on public buses and who ought to stand...it's just a succession of numbers with maturity levels attached. At 8 you're accountable, at 18 you can vote, at 24-- you can work at scout camp.
We categorize ourselves in many ways (the old and young or the smart and dumb or the man and woman) so that we are each a string of adjectives, depending on which side of the binary we fall. We love distinguishing ourselves and establishing social rank however we can. If we didn't have numbers we'd come up with another way to name age, I'm sure.
Birthdays get me thinking this way. And funerals. And spending afternoons with my sister's children who are so small against the earth, with hearts bigger than mouths to express it. ! I have to go of a sudden. Finish the rest on your own.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Not you! I don't even know you people!
Does anyone read this any more? You who do, you faithful, I salute you. It's another one of those disparate thought days, so prepare to do do some jumping.
There are many things I am sure I could find (camelback, nail polish remover, headband, bike stand, checkbook, etc. etc. etc.) if I was willing to look hard, and by hard I mean at all. As a friend once told me, "I am not a digger." Show yourself or be forgotten. This means I can never store things deep--just one layer--which means I will need a ridiculous amount of storage space. That will be quite costly.
I forgot how distracting home is, where the bathroom is right next to the kitchen is right next to the laundry all in one nice building. I put some toast in today and decided to shave my legs, just for the convenience of it. My toast burned, which reminds me, my straightener is plugged in upstairs.... At camp, going to the bathroom takes foresight and planning. I most likely need to take my water bottle because I will want to go straight to the dining hall after and it would be silly to backtrack to my tent.
About what I am doing: taking "boy scouts" on mountain bike rides. Video games have destroyed the young generation. Working up a sweat on the Wi does not count as exercise. It's all very sad.
Pictured below is the number one threat to my summer paycheck, which at the Hoback Market costs a hefty $4.50. This is what I use to chase down the mounds of processed food I consume each day(hotdogschickennuggetstetonmcmuffinssteakpotatopearlschipscookiescookiescookieschipscinnamontoastersyumyumyumbelievable).
.
Do you know how lovely Jackson is in the summertime? A choice moment: coming up over the ridge on the Munger Mountain trail into a field of balsam root right at sunset with the Tetons at my back.
Outside is the new in, people.
There are many things I am sure I could find (camelback, nail polish remover, headband, bike stand, checkbook, etc. etc. etc.) if I was willing to look hard, and by hard I mean at all. As a friend once told me, "I am not a digger." Show yourself or be forgotten. This means I can never store things deep--just one layer--which means I will need a ridiculous amount of storage space. That will be quite costly.
I forgot how distracting home is, where the bathroom is right next to the kitchen is right next to the laundry all in one nice building. I put some toast in today and decided to shave my legs, just for the convenience of it. My toast burned, which reminds me, my straightener is plugged in upstairs.... At camp, going to the bathroom takes foresight and planning. I most likely need to take my water bottle because I will want to go straight to the dining hall after and it would be silly to backtrack to my tent.
About what I am doing: taking "boy scouts" on mountain bike rides. Video games have destroyed the young generation. Working up a sweat on the Wi does not count as exercise. It's all very sad.
Pictured below is the number one threat to my summer paycheck, which at the Hoback Market costs a hefty $4.50. This is what I use to chase down the mounds of processed food I consume each day(hotdogschickennuggetstetonmcmuffinssteakpotatopearlschipscookiescookiescookieschipscinnamontoastersyumyumyumbelievable).
.
Do you know how lovely Jackson is in the summertime? A choice moment: coming up over the ridge on the Munger Mountain trail into a field of balsam root right at sunset with the Tetons at my back.
Outside is the new in, people.
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