2015 in review

Well this is pretty cool 🙂 Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read my schtuff!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2015 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 940 times in 2015. If it were a cable car, it would take about 16 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Untitled (for now) Wordle #91“December 28, 2015”

The awful tobacco aftertaste was pulsating on my tongue, attacking my taste-buds. I had tried to admonish him from smoking, but of course, when it came down to it, I was the one who shoved the cigarette in my mouth to avoid detection.

It almost worked too…

We realized too late that there was a filament minefield made of rigid purple lasers just above us. The smoke and cigarette that I was trying not to ingest, became increasingly leaden in my mouth and as soon as I exhaled, all hope was lost.

The floor began to move upwards towards the lasers and we realized we’d have no choice but to try and avoid them by moving this way and that, contorting our bodies like one of those Japanese game shows where it’s impossible to win.

His mind is a place where entropy reigns supreme, and at that infinitesimal moment in time where the smoke I’d exhaled caressed one of the lasers, he lost his composure. He never made it; pieces of him were like Scotch-tape to paper. The adhesion was incredible to see…and a bit stomach turning.

With my acquaintance beside me like silt from a flood, he had somehow managed to save me after all. Sliding into the crevice between the false floor and the wall we had begun to ascend, it slowed the process enough for me to make it through the lasers. Just barely though. I could smell the burning hair, lymph, and freshly cauterized wound from my forearm where I’d gotten too close to one of them.

Once at the top of the elevator-like shaft from hell, I found myself in a white room. It was so completely white it was almost blinding. I noticed that the room was round. There was no seam where the floor would typically meet the wall, it curved upward towards the ceiling where it was met again with another silky curve. Looking back at the space I had vacated, I realized I couldn’t find it in this stark white space. It had seemingly disappeared.

I took a step forward and that’s when I heard the water. From the other side of this, for lack of a better word, egg room, there was water coming in from somewhere. After a moment, it began to rush, and soon I found that it was up to my calves. The room was filling and I began to panic.

What began as a rush, quickly became a torrent of water and as I was treading water, freaking out, and getting closer and closer to the domed ceiling, my arm began to throb and just before I went under, I noticed the water burned my skin…

 


 

I tried! Not my usual type of writing and I felt like I was rambling there at the end haha.

Here’s the original prompt

Week 91

 

Blah Christmas Blah Blah

It’s funny. This Christmas was the least Christmas-y Christmas in a few years for me. Everyone felt it, lots of my friends and distant family felt the same and I’m not sure why.

For me personally, it was just hard to get into the mood. We didn’t have a tree, we didn’t put up any lights, we didn’t decorate at all. Normally, at the very least we put up lights. This year…nothing.

Of course it didn’t help that my Thing2 was practically bed-ridden because she had 3 wisdom teeth pulled on the 21st. She was swollen, in pain and generally not in the mood for any kind of “cheer”. (My fault of course for scheduling it that day… I didn’t even really think about it at the time)

All in all it was just another Friday, with a few gifts thrown in. Eh.. whatever. No biggie. We’re not that kind of family that has a big to-do with Christmas anyway.

Now that I think about it….we didn’t even light our Menorah this year either! I’m a horrible Jew.

This year was pretty meh. I’m glad it’s almost over.

On to bigger and better adventures.

 

Check One Box Only

I’ve always had to battle while filling out forms. I’m Multi-Racial and that’s been an issue….for them.

How could I possibly choose just one box? By choosing one, you’re asking me to choose one race over another – denying one half of my ancestry. Choosing “other” is just as unsatisfying.

I’ve always chosen all boxes that apply and I will continue to do so. It’s your issue now…you deal with it.

My freedom of choice is multiple boxes. #idareyoutomakemechoose

 

Sunshine Blogger Award

Thank you so much to Stories and Scribblings for nominating me for this award!

sunshine-blogger-award

Okay so the rules are:

  1. Thank the blogger who nominated you for the award.
  2. Display the banner/sticker/logo on your blog.
  3. Share 7 facts or things about yourself.
  4. Nominate 5 bloggers that you admire and inform nominees by commenting on their blog.

My 7 facts:

  1. I’m left handed (Southpaws rock!)
  2. I LOVE DIY everything
  3. I love Dia de los Muertos
  4. Peanut Butter cookies are my favorite cookie
  5. One of my favorite websites (apps) is RainyMood. I LOVE the sound of rain so it’s awesometastic! You should totally check it out.
  6.  I just turned 40 on 12-13!!!
  7. My favorite color is black.

 

My nominees

That Girl Who Crochets

Spiritual Deagonfly

Wanderlushed

Witty Titties

Projectophile

Farewell

We’ll say our farewells, bitter though they may be

Intending to keep in touch, but I know you – and you know me

We’ll forget to write, or text, or connect by Skype

You know how it is, living with all the hype

 

We’ll go on about our daily routines and such

Not really thinking about each other too much

I’ll never forget you as you’re part of my heart

Friends til the end

But time for a new start

 


Writing101 Day; 10 Farewell

 

 

Camouflage

Saying my father’s name to most people in my father’s country brings about a flurry of respect for the man he was.

But I am just his daughter.

I have done nothing but carry his name with me throughout my life and this gives me pause

because

I am just his daughter.

My family history is filled with so many colorful tales of the greatness my father achieved and I rode along on his coattails basking in the glory that was him. Leaving because of the coup, I never had a chance to be anything

but

just his daughter.

And still… knowing what my father’s name means to many people, I feel like I have something to live up to now that he’s gone; and even before then, though I did nothing about it. Though I still do nothing about it. I haven’t been back to my father’s country since I was 5 years old, but they know me… 35 years later, they know my name. To them, I have descended from greatness, but to me

I am just his daughter.


Writing101 Day9; Camouflage


Graffiti

Existing since ancient times from simple words to elaborate paintings

these works of art, though publicly illicit and mostly considered

defacement

of certain properties

glow white-hot and

burn with the fire of underlying social and political messages and that

sometimes they don’t. 

Sometimes

they are

just simply

art.


Writing101 Day 8; Graffiti