Tag Archives: Annette Roman

Ever Changing

I wrote the following rhetoric years back. And although I am no longer in this particular situation I still feel I made some valid observations. I am prone to eloquent exaggeration, but mainly I speak the truth as I see it. I hope you enjoy it.

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How blissful a child’s ignorance of the world in which adults live is. It is something I’ve come to truly envy.

As my mother would proudly explain, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would beam and say that “I was never going to grow up because I was going to Neverneverland to live with Peter Pan.” How easy life seemed back then?

At one point in every person’s life there comes a time when we must all take what is referred to as “a leap of faith.” Whether that “leap” is metaphoric or literal, that moment always reaches us whether early on in our youth or in adulthood. My “leap” has come to me at the age of twenty-five. I look to the future –more importantly –my future and feel that there is cause for great trepidation because it isn’t spelled out to me in a clear path. I never truly knew I possessed this quality until I heard my sister describing and explaining me to one of her friends, but I was hit with the realization that this description had me spot on! I don’t like being out of control. I don’t like not knowing how something is going to turn out or not having a plan or a back-up plan.

Thus, the cause for my trepidation. There are always two choices in life: to do or to not do. How does one decide? I have reached a fork in my road. To continue on path the current path would lead to much the same environment I am currently in, only to accentuate the current situation with further knowledge of my bosses’ utter lack of respect toward me and to continue to allow them to insult me daily. As tempting as the situation surely seems I can assure you it is far worse. The other tine on the fork leads down a much more exciting path. One that removes me from my hometown and immerses me into an unfamiliar town, jobless and a mountain of debt the last fork had caused me to accrue.

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On a side note, I no longer feel such heavy anxiety that I don’t have everything planned out. I met someone who had such a nonchalant way of looking at the world and I’ve since adopted a few of his philosophies. He has become a hero of sorts. I’ve discovered how to enjoy my life without the feeling as if I must have all the answers before I even start. I’ve often since said “Life is in the mess.” And I truly believe it. I have had some of the best times in my life since by simply being in the now and enjoying the adventure that it brings.

Man and His Shadow

Man and His Shadow

There was a man

who was so disturbed

by the sight of his own shadow

and so displeased with his own footsteps

that he determined to get rid of both.

The method he hit upon was to run away from them.

So he got up and ran.

But every time he put his foot down

there was another step,

while his shadow kept up with him

without the slightest difficulty.

He attributed his failure

to the fact that he was not running fast enough.

So he ran faster and faster, without stopping,

until he finally dropped dead.

He failed to realize that if he merely stepped into the shade,

his shadow would vanish,

and if he sat down and stayed still, there would be no more footsteps.

-Chuang Tzu

I came across this poem in a school book and like it so much I decided to share it. Hope you enjoyed it and that it reminds you to take a step back once in a while and sit down in the shade. 🙂

Must Be Me….

Boston Skyline

Boston Skyline (Photo credit: brentdanley)

Currently, I work on the seventh floor in one of Boston University’s many campus buildings. Never being as physically fit as I’d like “I’m working on it” is typically not far from my thoughts when pondering my fitness. I have, however, since moving to Boston begun to walk a substantial amount more. It’s simply not practical to drive in this city with parking being as ridiculously priced as it is here one tends to take public transportation and when that fails one walks. A great thing about Boston is that it is a walkable city. Since arriving I have had to invest in some really good shoes to cushion my feet from the hard concrete sidewalks. Sadly, some of my cute heels and sandals are gathering a fine layer of dust as I favor comfort over style. I ride the subway and walk the remaining distance to work each day in sneakers. Most larger city dwellers do.

As I said I’ve never really been all that fit, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to get a little “workout” in on my commute to work and even while at work. Instead of the escalators I climb the steps at subway stations. I use the elevator at work only if I need to go up more than three floors: therefore, only in the morning when I arrive and in the afternoon at quitting time and the occasional outside lunch.

Stairs sign with braille at an office building...

Stairs sign  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You can see then why it would never fail to amaze me when a healthy able-bodied male or female decides to ride the elevator to ascend to the next floor! What?! Why?! I want to ask every time I see someone get in and push the shiny little button for the next floor. Did they miss the big sign that announces the stairwell? Are they afraid to accelerate their heart-rate? Or perhaps they are afraid they will get lost on the trip up the flight of steps and come out in another dimension or country. I know I am beginning to write silly things, but when you do something silly you should be treated in kind.

WALL-E

WALL-E (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Quit being a lazy bum! I once watched the Disney/Pixar film Wall-e with a friend who laughed hysterically at the part where the world’s civilization was obese and riding around on hovering recliners. This post isn’t a plug about obesity I promise I am more worried about the decline of our minds in truth.

I am just saying maybe you should try the stairs. 

The Horn

vehicle horn is a sound-making device used to warn and/or caution others of the approach of the vehicle or of its presence.

With this in mind, I have to say I believe this isn’t what most people use the vehicle horn for nowadays.


Prime example:

 

As I was returning home from the neighborhood Stop N Shop grocery store a few nights past, I was coming up to an intersection that to continue my trek home required me to turn right. The light, however, turned red before I got the intersection. Being the responsible and competent driver that I am, I slowed to a come to a stop so that- if the coast was clear- I would then proceed and make my right-hand turn. The taxi driver behind me, however, had other designs. He apparently believes that a red light does not mean to come to a complete stop and proceed with caution, bu that it means to continue through the light without regard for my safety or the safety of others in other vehicles or pedestrians around me. 


Now those of you who have ridden in a car with me I am sure have at one point or another witnessed my “game” with people who insist upon being rude to other drivers on the road. Is my going 5 mph over the speed limit during rush hour still not fast enough for you that you insist on tailgating me? Oh, what’s that??? I think my car has suddenly  lost power! Damn! My odometer must be broken it’s reading now 5 mph under the speed limit. Sorry! What’s that you want to cut me off because even though you’ve driven this route countless times you still want to be the jerk that cuts in front of everyone HOLDING UP TRAFFIC because you couldn’t be the bigger sensible guy and PLAN ahead? Looks like you’ll have to be a jerk to someone else because this sugar isn’t letting you in. 

So when the taxi driver behind me hits his horn to tell me to not slow down and to continue through the light and make my turn, I make a decision to pretend that I don’t know you can turn on red after a complete stop. And I sit through the red light. Unhappy with my choice, the taxi driver begins to hit his horn again. Repeatedly. At least 8 or 9 times. I can’t help but laugh out loud at his display of stupidity and look around at the car beside me. There in the SUV next to me is a girl giving me a thumbs-up sign, with a huge grin on her face saying “Good job! Stay there!” Believe it or not the guy didn’t let up. He kept honking his horn until the light changed. He then followed me through our turn and completed an illegal action by turning into an outlet only lane. 

I can’t even being to tell you the kind of satisfaction I had in causing his ire.

Moral of the story: You unwisely display to all watching what a completely ridiculous individual you are. (To put it very nicely.) Choose your actions wisely when using the horn on your vehicle. Instead of achieving a desired result you might end up receiving the reverse action. 

Peep-peep-peeping

Never considered myself much of a peeping-tom, but lets face it sometimes you just can’t deny that insatiable curiosity unless you just go ahead and look. The hardest time for me to not look into the lives of those around me is when it’s evening time and I’m out walking the neighborhood. You see the glowing light cast on the pavement, see a form cross the light’s path, and wonder “Huh, wonder what/who caused that?” Your head turns almost on its own accord and before you know you’re watching someone set the table for dinner or changing the channel on the TV.

Tonight, I was walking upstairs to my room and had one such peeping-tom experience. To the limited few who have seen my new home in New England, I was on our second floor heading to our third but it’s not an all important detail for those of you who haven’t. We do not have curtains- none of us here like them in the first place. This detail gives us unhampered natural lighting, but also allows for unhampered viewing in both directions (inside and outside).

I was walking to the next staircase and happen to see light from across the way to the next door neighbors. There I spied chaotic movement. Naturally, I stopped and thought “What in the world???” Care to take a stab at what I saw?

Hooked I see. 🙂 Don’t worry, we all have that curiosity.

Anyway to continue, one of the the neighbors is repeatedly jumping up and down. My suspicion is that this woman is playing one of those Dance Revolution Games where you have a pad of the floor and have to jump on the proper square in order to score points. Watching the neighbor was entertaining as hell for a little while because I couldn’t actually see what she was doing other than jump-jump-jumping. And she was pretty involved in her jump-jump-jumping. The picture is of Jim Carey in Yes Man playing one such game.

I’m guilty of having one of these games for my Wii. It’s dangerous when I play because I’m not very coordinated. I’m sure that doesn’t come to much of a surprise to many of you. Graceful one thing “I ain’t!”

P.S. She’s still at it an hour later.

Dear You, I Know the Feeling

Dear You,

I’ve been here before. This road with it’s cracks and grass growing wherever it can find purchase is familiar. I have seen that tree before. It doesn’t quite grow straight and tall. It appears to hunker down as if afraid to show it’s maturity, afraid to draw too much attention to itself. I know the feeling.

The air feels the same: smells the same. A warm breeze passes through the leaves. It’s gentle, but constant. It carries a slight, salty fragrance. It smells like home, like what comfort smells like. The wind caresses the leaves, the trees. It slightly buffs the world wanting to show its affection, but not wanting to overwhelm the world’s senses. I know the feeling.

A shining sun that warms with its rays: causes the world to light up showing off it’s colors. Greens, blues, browns, yellows. The sun lights surfaces, casts shadows. It awakens the landscape. All radiate- fighting for attention. Seeking appreciation, seeking acceptance. I know the feeling.

I remember you here. You listened with me to the rustling leaves. You smiled wide, eyes closed as you pointed your face toward the sky feeling the suns warmth. You breathed deeply, enjoying the scented breeze. It’s soothing caress. You looked content, happy. You didn’t want the moment of peacefulness found here to ever change, didn’t want it to end. I know the feeling.

Love,

Me

Lily in the Land of Oz: Part One

Tired of living in the Black Forest and living with the stigma of being a disagreeable and wickedly evil ogre, Wormroot, decided to make the long journey over the fields full of bountiful prairie crops, over the rickety wooden Crick Crossing Bridge, down Main Street with the local townspeople gawking and pointing at his presence in their clean town and into the local tavern to see if he could change his fate. Wormroot wanted desperately to be liked. Being an ogre is not easy since most people would upon seeing him immediately dislike him for had a certain ogre-y air about him.

Carefully ducking into the establishment as to not ruin anything, Wormroot was greeted by a silent room of townsfolk, mouths agape and shock showing on their faces. To most, this type of treatment would be a warning, a sort of foreshadowing of future events, but to Wormroot- who was as stubborn as any ogre- the local peoples reaction only mad him angry. He had every right to come into town. There was nothing anyone could do about it! Looking every patron in the eye, Wormroot moved toward the barkeep and greeted him with a friendly enough, “Hello!”

The barkeep having previously interacted with ogres, reservedly greeted Wormroot back as to not irk the ogre further. “What brings you to town, stranger?”

“Name’s Wormroot. I have come to change my fate. I was hoping to start anew and make a good name for myself. Have you heard of any farmer looking for help with the harvest? I’m a strong worker and do not mind doing the heavy lifting.”

Carefully framing his reply for he knew no one would hire the ogre, the barkeep said, “I am sorry, Wormroot. I haven’t heard of any farmer needing an extra pair of hands. I’ll keep an ear open and, if any such help is needed, I can send a message out your way to the Black Forest.” Hoping the ogre would be on his way, he offered the ogre a drink for the road. “Shall I pack a canteen for your trek back home?”

“I was hoping to be able to stay in town or with the farmer that hires me. I haven’t a place to return home to. If you don’t mind, I’ll make a quick announcement advertising my willingness to work.” And with that the ogre turned to the open room and bellowed “I have come to work! I will work hard and long. I can protect livestock from wild predators and can lift large and heavy objects. Please take pity on an ogre trying to make a name for himself!” Having said his piece, Wormroot again scanned the group of gathered townsfolk.

Most looked on him with distrust and loathing, some with fear, but none with pity. They had all heard tales of the chaos and havoc an ogre could create. Ogres are known for their short tempers and violent fits. Wormroot was disheartened looking at the crowd of unfriendly faces. He did not understand their hostility, he had come to them humbly asking for work. Just like them, he wanted to earn a living by doing honest work. He was willing to work hard and do what others couldn’t. Wormroot turned back toward the barkeep hoping the barkeep would provide a friendly face and advice as to what his next step should be, but the barkeep was not quick enough to wipe the growing look of fear from his face. Quickly becoming frustrated with the townspeople, Wormroot grabbed a pitcher off the counter, turned to the full room and prepared to launch the glass container across the space.

Standing feet from the ogre looking up into his face stood a beautiful maiden with long flowing chestnut locks and stunningly brilliant green eyes. At once, the ogre became ashamed of his actions and looked down at the pitcher in his hands unable to meet her gaze. He had not noticed her slip up behind him.

“I am sorry for the less than friendly greeting you have received while in the Land of Oz. I am Lily. We are unaccustomed to the presence of- forgive me for saying- an ogre. You are from the Black Forest, yes?”

His speech having failed him for she was breathtakingly beautiful, Wormroot eagerly nodded his large head.

“I have never ventured that far, but have heard tales of its beauty. What is your name, stranger?”

“Wormroot.”

“Well, Wormroot, my father owns a farm about half a day’s walk to the northeast from town. As my father is getting older and has two daughters and no sons- there are several chores with which we could use a strong back and an extra pair of hands to help us. If you are willing to journey with me, I believe we could use your help around the farm. Mind you’d have to sleep in the barn, but you would be warm and fed as long as your help is needed. To reach the homestead before nightfall, we will have to leave immediately.”

“Oh boy! Thank you! Thank you!! I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll be so helpful you’ll never want to let me go. Lead the way! After you, dear lady!” Wormroot clasped his hands together forgetting that one contained the glass pitcher causing it shatter and splash its contents down Wormroot’s tunic. Looking bug eyed and sheepish through lowered lids, Wormroot smiled at Lily hoping she would not change her mind.

Unsure of what to say to this display of clumsiness, Lily regarded Wormroot and offered a friendly smirk. “We had better set off now. It is a long and winding road. One can never be sure what kind of trouble one will encounter on the road.”

To be continued….