When you tell someone you love them, and their response is "what do you want?" you know you're doing something wrong.

Thoughts from the office

So that's it. I have officially become someone who works weekends. Yes, this is my first Saturday here.

Hey I wonder if I'll become some type of crazed workaholic now. That sounds kinda cool...bags under the eyes, right hand shaking with a travel mug full of strong black coffee, irritable and anxious.

Only problem is, I'm way too lazy to be a workaholic. I mean, I'm blogging at work.

In other news. Winter blues.

Food for thought

I wonder which will get more media attention.

The death of Heath Ledger? (which has already been immortalized on wikipedia and on numerous blogs and facebook groups composed of fans reeling from the horrible news.)

Or the Gaza Crisis?

Hmm.

A Land Called Paradise

CommonPlacer tags me to post this video. It is quite brilliant :)

A dandelion by any other name...would smell as sweet

I have never explained my blog header to you readers. (Not sure if there are many of you left after my several hiatuses and creative droughts. If there are not, I will write this as a letter to myself.)

My blog header, a puff of a weed, a dandelion. I never saw dandelions as being weeds. I always liked them, brought them home for my mom (who promptly threw them away after smiling and telling us she loved them). You see, this is the nature of adult life. We are no longer able to enjoy the small things we did as children.

Dandelions are scattered eventually. They don't remain whole. Which I think is a perfect metaphor for a human being. We are not in control of the various pieces of ourselves. We give away portions of our hearts, our time, and our efforts. Wind and life makes us scatter these things, makes us give them away until perhaps at a later point in time, we feel naked and robbed of what we could have kept for ourselves. What is a dandelion without its seeds? Without the beautiful yellow and white that surrounds its core? Does it have meaning anymore?

But all those seeds it gave away are sprouting and becoming something beautiful on their own. And we, as people, we are drained sometimes. We are plucked of our seeds or willingly donate them to others who need them more than we do. And suddenly we find ourselves without anything to protect us from an oncoming winter. We have been too scattered, have not conserved anything for ourselves. Winter crushes us and we suffer.

This, the ultimate sacrifice. To leave aside what we could have selfishly kept, so that others can live life a little better. But as the weeds that we are, our roots run deep. And when the pain and frost have ended, we are not gone. We grow again, and we give again.

It's funny perhaps, that I could have such a role model. But I aspire to be as strong as that dandelion.