Memo to me.

Actually post some of the half-completed post sitting in folder on desktop.

Need more practice writing, but I get too distracted.

Blah.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

Back to school soon.

This both thrills me and makes me want to vomit copious amounts into someone’s shoes.

I’m thrilled because I’m a dork and school makes me happy.

I want to vomit because if I see one more goddamn facebook status or pm or hear someone say ‘Well, one chapter ends, another one beginning’, or any variation of that sentence, I might just blow a gasket and become one of those creepy people that just sit in corners and mumble, or stab people viciously in the face with sporks.

I do love sporks.




But I digress. Enough with the ranty-rant. But wait! That ties in with our topic today! Watch as the amazing bananahead sinks into metaphor-world and slowly drowns herself in a pit of despair and cheap cologne.

Today’s topic is metamorphosis. The changing of one thing into another. Much like high-school students becoming university students. If you can’t see the relation here, I hope fire ants get you while you sleep. (I’m feeling snarky today. Can you tell? Probably not the best time to be writing about why the world rocks. Meh.)

If we’re going by definition, Metamorphosis is a biological process by which an animal physically develops after birth or hatching, involving a conspicuous and relatively abrupt change in the animal's body structure through cell growth and differentiation. For you lesser-educated folks, that means it changes into something else.

Contrary to popular belief, this is not caused by wizards. It is science!

Many creatures in the animal and insect kingdoms go through metamorphosis, the most famously being the caterpillar-chrysalis-butterfly cycle that we all had to memorize and probably draw a dozen times in elementary school.

If you eat a lot, I guarantee you will change. Promise.

Another pretty well known one is the tadpole-freaky hybrid-frog metamorphosis, in which a fish grows a set (of lungs….) and legs and starts hopping around the place. Some other lesser known ones include newts and dragonflies.

My favourite however, would have to be when fish and frogs completely change gender. If that’s not a metamorphosis, I don’t care about it anymore. This shit is real. In areas where there are few males, dominant and larger females will change their gender. Exactly like what happened in Jurassic Park. Damned Velociraptors.


I'm transgendered!

Why is it, in every post, I somehow manage to stick in a dino reference?!

Why is this awesome bananahead? Because. It’s the idea of taking something old, and making it entirely new. A different animal. A different shape, a different size. It’s like being reborn. Like a lot of people, I dye my hair whenever I feel bad about myself. I try new outfits, new looks. I try to reinvent myself. This is reinvention at its most natural and basic form. And the idea that a change could be so complete, and moreso, so natural (I’m not talking Heidi Montag), astounds me. It’s like a tiny little miracle.

Sometimes, I envy butterflies for their ability to change into something so new and different and beautiful. Go through their own little miracle transformation.


And then I remember what it’s like to live through the winter, and I am content.

It's Freaking Hot

And I've been gone all day.

So today, what am I fascinated by?
It's not so much a fascination as me being damned grateful.

Fans.

fan    /fæn/
–noun
1. any device for producing a current of air by the movement of a broad surface or a number of such surfaces.
2. an implement of feathers, leaves, paper, cloth, etc., often in the shape of a long triangle or of a semicircle, for waving lightly in the hand to create a cooling current of air about a person: We SAT on the veranda, cooling ourselves with palm-leaf fans.
3. anything resembling such an implement, as the tail of a bird.
4. any of various devices consisting essentially of a series of radiating vanes or blades attached to and revolving with a central hublike portion to produce a current of air: ceiling fan; wall fan.
5. a series of revolving blades supplying air for winnowing or cleaning grain.
6. Horology . fly1 ( def. 28 ) .
7. a semicircular decoration of bunting.
8. Physical Geography . an alluvial fan.

They keep poor Canadian's from melting, the blessed things.

Anyways, that's why today, fans are the most awesome things on the planet.

...Next to dead things.
And Jesus.

Alright, so maybe I just wanted an excuse to post this. Can you blame me?

Day 2; The hills are alive!

With the sound of music!

It's weird, but I have never seen that entire movie. Once upon a time I was babysitting a kid, a little stinker, and she wanted to watch this movie. Well, needless to say I freaking loved it. By the time her parents arrived home and long after she'd gone to bed, I was partway into act two. I nearly snapped at them to leave me alone and let me make a nest out of their living room. I did go home though, and I never could be bothered to finish it.

I have horrible attention problems, with a whole bunch of 'I don't give a damn.' thrown in.

Anyways, this post has nothing to do with what's-her-face and irritating clone children. It does have to do with music though.

I love the variety of music. I have quite literally everything on my ipod. I have scottish bagpipes, native american pan flute, metal, classic rock, oldies from the 40's and 50's, a million soundtracks, punk, pop, rap, a shitload of classical, etc. But it always really strikes me when you find a song that communicates something. Music is pretty awesome in itself. But I'm talking about those songs that almost seem to touch you on a deeper level, to the point where you're seeing what they want you to quite literally see.

One of the artists that can do this is Ofra Haza (1957-2000), a Israeli singer, actress, and international recording artist. Discovered at a young age during a neighbourhood musical, her talent and near-flawless tones rocketed her to stardom. Heavily inspired by her Jewish community and a love for her country, she was very popular in middle-eastern countries, and earned many gold and platinum records.At the young age of 19,after finishing her military service, she was considered 'the Madonna of the East' and a pop princess. Her fame only grew over the years, so that when she died in 2000 at the age of 42 from multiple organ failure brought on by AIDS, all of Israel mourned, playing her music non-stop on many radio stations and eventually having children's playground named after her.

I'm not going to go into detail about all of her songs, soundtracks, records, and collaborations. There's one, that for me, stands out above the rest. It's a song called "Yerushalaim Shel Zahav", Or "Jerusalem of Gold", originally written by Naomi Shemer. Considered by many to be the unofficial anthem of Israel, the song is haunting and beautiful, especially when sung by Haza. When I first heard this song, I got shivers, and images of market bazaars, narrow streets, and buildings glinting with gold while a hot sun beat down filled my heart and soul, and I felt like I NEEDEDTOGETTOJERUSALEMNOW. Everytime I hear it, I close my eyes and savour it. It's awesome in the way that it sort of worms itself into you. Ofra Haza is an amazing women, and any music, or I should probably say all music, that has such feeling and imagery behind the words is just awesome.

It's awesome that such talent and beauty exists in the world. Everyone has those songs that do the same for them. This one just happens to be mine. Here, give it a listen.


yeah, that's right. She's freaking standing in the middle of a Jerusalem mini-city. So badass.

Pretty Damn Awesome.

JERUSALEM OF GOLD
by Naomi Shemer
in Hebrew


Avir harim zalul kayayin
Ve-rei'ah oranim
Nissa be-ru'ah ha'arbayim
Im kol pa'amonim


U-ve-tardemat ilan va-even
Shvuyah ba-halomah
Ha-ir asher badad yoshevet
U-ve-libbah homah


Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve-shel nehoshet ve-shel or
Ha-lo le-khol shirayikh
Ani kinnor.


Eikhah yavshu borot ha-mayim
Kikkar ha-shuk reikah
Ve-ein poked et Har ha-Bayit
Ba-ir ha-attikah


U-va-me'arot asher ba-selah
Meyallelot ruhot
Ve-ein yored el Yam ha-Melah
Be-derekh Yeriho

Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve-shel nehoshet ve-shel or
Ha-lo le-khol shirayikh
Ani kinnor.

Akh be-vo'i ha-yom la-shir lakh
Ve-lakh likshor ketarim
Katonti mi-ze'ir bana'ikh
U-me-aharon ha-meshorerim


Ki shemekh zorev et ha-sefatayim
Ke-neshikat saraf
Im eshkakhekh Yerushalayim
Asher kullah zahav


Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve-shel nehoshet ve-shel or
Ha-lo le-khol shirayikh
Ani kinnor.


Hazarnu el borot ha-mayim
La-shuk ve-la-kikkar
Shofar kore be-Har ha-Bayit
Ba-ir ha-attikah


U-va-me'arot asher ba-selah
Alfey shemashot zorhot
Nashuv nered el Yam ha-Melah
Be-derekh Yeriho


Yerushalayim shel zahav
Ve-shel nehoshet ve-shel or
Ha-lo le-khol shirayikh
Ani kinnor.


JERUSALEM OF GOLD
by Naomi Shemer


The mountain air is clear as wine
And the scent of pines
Is carried on the breeze of twilight
With the sound of bells.

And in the slumber of tree and stone
Captured in her dream
The city that sits solitary
And in its midst is a wall.

Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.

How the cisterns have dried
The market-place is empty
And no one frequents the Temple Mount
In the Old City.

And in the caves in the mountain
Winds are howling
And no one descends to the Dead Sea
By way of Jericho.

Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.

But as I come to sing to you today,
And to adorn crowns to you (i.e. to tell your praise)
I am the smallest of the youngest of your children (i.e. the least worthy of doing so)
And of the last poet (i.e. of all the poets born).

For your name scorches the lips
Like the kiss of a seraph
If I forget thee, Jerusalem,
Which is all gold...

Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze, and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.

We have returned to the cisterns
To the market and to the market-place
A ram's horn (shofar) calls out (i.e. is being heard) on the Temple Mount
In the Old City.

And in the caves in the mountain
Thousands of suns shine -
We will once again descend to the Dead Sea
By way of Jericho!

Jerusalem of gold, and of bronze and of light
Behold I am a violin for all your songs.

SO Damn beautiful.
Kudos to you, Ms. Haza.


Now, then we get this stuff...no offense to ms Alexa Ray Joel. (guess who fathered this little chicka?) OHGODITWON'TGETOUTOFMYHEADGETITOUTGETITOUTGETITOUT.
-RUNS AROUND IN CIRCLES AND BANGS HEAD OFF OF BEDPOST-

Thus begins a month of writing frantically.

If you loved me, you'd buy me this.

Alrighty then.

So today I begin my 1 month of writing frantically in a pathetic attempt to a) actually do something b) get a decently known blog so I can add that to my writing resume. There are also so many awesome things to write about and it gets all pent up and I become a small cat on crack cocaine and destroy things unintentionally.

I just spilt tea all over my bedspread. lovely.

I also just got the first of my textbooks for school. Yay for UPS men!

So today's entry is about something that's very near and dear to me. I've already mentioned that I freaking love dinosaurs. But that love does not just extend to dinosaurs. It extends to all furry or scaly prehistoric animals. Once my boyfriend made the mistake of taking me to the ROM. I believe we spent nearly an hour and a half just in the dinosaur and ancient mammals section while I rattled off every single fact I knew about each individual creature. I'm a dork like that.

Anywho I was reading another blog when I came across www.twoguysfossils.com. They sell freaking fossils. Essentially, I made a wishlist of everyhing I want from that website.

Including
1) mammoth hair
2) mammoth teeth
3) mammoth tibia
4) the lower jaw of a steppes horse
5) the tooth of spinosaurus
6) the femur of bison
7) the tooth of an ankylosaur
8) the tooth of a plesiosaur
9) the tooth of an albertasaur

My love for fossils and all things ancient is so great, I even told my boyfriend that I'd love him so much more if he proposed to me with a vertabrae from a tyrannosaur or a apatasaur. This was not a hint.

Or better yet, combine the two.


Anyways, instead of being specific about anything in particular today, I'm just going to write about fossils. Everyone knows what fossils are. But I want to call to attention why I love them so much.

A fossil is a remnant of a world past. And for the same reason that I can't watch war movies, I love them. My imagination gets carried away. To think that I'm looking at something that millions of years ago, lived and breathed and died. Something that was so gigantic, so awesome and awe-inspiring (You think an elephant was inspiring? Look at a mammoth. Or a brachiosaur, the equivalent of a whole herd of elephants.) Even small fossils. This is something that felt fear, hunger, cold. Something that lived very much the way I do (albeit without tv or microwaveable dinners). It raised young, lived, and died millions or thousands of years ago. It reminds me of my own mortality, and the enduring nature of thing. I can't say it enough, but you're looking at something ancient. I feel the same way with mummies, but closer in a species-specific type of way. And the idea that I'm looking at it, coming in contact with it, makes my brain go haywire.


Mammoth mummy. SO FREAKING AWESOME.

It's just so freaking awesome.

Plus, freaking dinosaurs.

OM NOM NOM.

baha

-sighs-
school is starting, and I'm soon to be off on another year of learing, reading, and writing. So, in an attempt to flex my writing fingers a little more (third book almost finished!) I have compiled a list of things I am too write about on this blog for the next three months. If I don't, I must eat a worm.

This I solemnly swear.



.....Alos, that I am up to no good.

A Tiny Heartbeat

It's late, and I'm still working too many shifts.

But I thought I'd share a little story.

A few days ago, I rescued a fledgling robin from my cat. We have a cage with a specialized light that we use when we find injured birds or sparrows, should we ever get around to breeding them. I found his nest, but it was too high to put him back. He was uninjured; stunned from the fall and the kitten batting at him, but he was fine. I kept him for a night, and then I had to release him back into the wild. The SPCA wouldn't take him because he was healthy. I'm still super nervous for him; I have four outdoor cats, all of them hunters. I ended up releasing him into a bush by his nest, in hopes that his parents would be able to find him and would be able to keep feeding him until he learnt to fly a little higher. (He could do little flutters about a foot in distance.)

But during those 24 hours, he escaped twice. The first time I had to catch him with my bare hands, and holding this small, fragile bird in my hands as his wings lightly fluttered was amazing. I could feel his heartbeat. He didn't struggle, and I felt that for a moment we shared something. It was like I was holding a tiny miracle of nature and it made me pause and think about the beauty and fragility of life.

The second time, we seemed to have an accord, and he fluttered into my hand and perched there comfortably.

I'll never know if he lived or died, and I know that in the scheme of things a baby robin doesn't have that much importance, but I still can't think of him as anything but special. He made me pause and think about the relationship between mankind and nature, and about how this tiny beautiful thing that I held in my hands was so fragile and innocent and how I compared to it. I came out the bad guy, but still. It was an almost holy moment.

I have parrots and birds, but holding something wild...it was different. And yeah. I don't know how to describe it. Only that holding him, watching him, having him willingly perch on me, was amazing and incredible and awesome.

I hope he's okay. Cause little songbirds like him make the world a more beautiful and awesome place.

And I'm tired. And done my ramble.
Night All.