Why wouldn't it be ok to move to an island all on your own and just exist? You have food, you have water, you have things to do that keep you occupied. But why do you and I both have this understanding that this living situation would only be ok for so long before it would cease to be ok and would in fact become detrimental. This of course is an extreme case of existing with out others and a better and perhaps less extreme example would be life with out cell phones, email, or facebook.

Right now you are reading this and thinking.... "yeah.....and....?.... Don't flatter yourself to think you've come across something that hasn't already been covered and looked into by many people before you Ally."

Knowing that this is most likely your thought process pushes me to get to the point as quickly as possible, so here it is... I have spent my whole life with the attitude that I don't need anybody. I love people and I have lots of dear dear friends who mean a lot to me but I honestly have been confident that if need be I could do this on my own. The older I get and the more aware I become of my existence and how it relates to the existence of others I'm realizing that I do need everyone, in fact it's kind of scary thinking of not having anyone.

I talk to this old man in church every Sunday. He waits for me in the same spot drinking his coffee just looking forward to a three minute conversation with me. He takes no pains to hide the fact that he appreciates me and our talks. His face lights up when I walk over to him and I just know that his week has been changed for the better just by me taking time to say hello. At first I have to admit i found this tragic.. I kept thinking about how much it's going to suck to get old and be so needy and alone. But I was being naive to my own situation. If it weren't for my friends, family, cell phone, email, and facebook I would probably be much less shy about letting people know how much I appreciate them, in part because I would actually become more aware of it myself.

Strange as it may sound I hope I can be more like this old man and I'm gonna try to be. I am surrounded by the most amazing people that I would hate to ever be with out and I want them to know that every time they say hello to me.

This is a rather deep post that I should probably delete and not publish but... I'm going to anyway. If it's not up by tomorrow you'll know what happened to it though lol

The Bikini Island Bomb Test - Now you know.

After my last post I started becoming curious about old sayings and terms. Which brings me to this next post which should shed some light on a term that I'm sure you have no history on. It's a favorite of mine and is something i find quite imperative to my summer sun experience... The bikini. It's fun to say... it's fun to wear... it's fun to shop for... and it's fun to throw away as this means you probably own a new one!

But where did the term bikini come from? Curious? I wasn't. That is until I found out accidentally. So here it is: The first "bikini" went on sale in 1947 and as you can imagine the reaction to these scandalous little swimsuits was what some described as like to an atomic bomb. The year prior to this earth shaking development the atomic bomb test had taken place on the Marshall Islands. 167 natives were moved at this time to Rongerik under what was called "Operation Crossroads" by William H. R. Blandy. The term "Operation Crossroads" was later referred to as "The Bikini Island Bomb Test". Naturally when this skimpy little bathing suit came out and into the fashion world it was referred to as the "Bikini", capitalized, as it was named after the atomic bomb test that had had much the same effect as this little swimsuit. The capitalization was later removed and anything that showed a lot of skin was considered the "bikini style".

Now I feel that this is interesting enough that I can end my blogging experience here for the day. What is the point in me telling you about this you wonder? There is no point. But now you know.

The Fate of A Jaybird

Today after school while I was cutting across the roads and parking lots toward my vehicle I realized something. Everyday on the route to and from my car I cross traffic with out even looking up... I just wander out into the middle of the road with the assumption that everyone will stop for me.

A few more months and I'll be graduated and done with my bachelors degree in the Biomedical Sciences. This is something I should be proud of and for that matter all of the 2010 graduating class should be proud of (cheers!). It's a big deal. For myself however, I feel I am not walking gracefully away from college into a world of possibilities... instead I'm wandering out of Grand Valley into a world that does not take so kindly to jaywalking.

I don't believe that the origin of the term "jaywalking" is understood by all who use it. But then again, how many terms such as this are actually completely understood? "throw in the towel"? "spill the beans"? I think you get the point.

Jaywalking is a term used in reference to Jaybirds who would venture out of their rural forests and into urban areas only to become confused. They often would end up endangering their lives as they would walk anywhere they wanted... including into traffic.

I feel right now that the chances of me getting hit will increase greatly once I leave the safe haven of campus life. Me making decisions based on limited knowledge of what I want for my life seems in many ways parallel to the little Jaybird making the decision to walk into traffic based on limited knowledge of what danger awaits.

To end this post on a lighter note...

Jaybirds definitely have found a place in my heart. Apparently we're kindred spirits.

Sunday - The back stabber

Sunday's are little back stabbers in my opinion.

FRIDAY: You have a good Friday night after a long day at school. Nothing can go wrong on Friday night because you're just so elated that you're done with the week.

SATURDAY: Saturday is exactly what it claims to be. Neither good nor bad by nature. It always feels like the make or break for the weekend...you have a bad Saturday, you have a bad weekend. You have a good Saturday, you have a good weekend. It's fairly straight forward.

SUNDAY: Then Sunday comes to remind you that the weekend isn't over yet and you can redeem your weekend if need be. Except that that's a lie! Those extra moments you spent in bed on Sunday morning thanking God it's not Monday, turn out to be 1/3 of your day and the other 2/3 pass by so fast that before you know it you're back in bed wondering where your glorious Sunday went.

In short, I feel that Sundays only exist to remind you that they don't exist and your weekend is officially over.

I already blogged today and I feel that blogging twice is as awkward as it is sad, but i was just thinking about this concept and had to write it down. Try not to judge.

Entree?

I was the little girl who had a diary because my big sister did and my mom did and *my dad wished I were born a son.

I never really knew what was suppose to be written in a diary.

I had it figured out that I was suppose to write my thoughts and feelings down. So i tried that approach for a while but my thoughts flowed so freely and went on for pages... I would have to stop writing because my hand would be cramping up, fingers bleeding, and my writing indecipherable after writing for so long. It was a horrible experience to say the least.

I resorted to writing down what I had to eat that day and jotting down a quick prayer for God to read while I was away. *Sometimes I go a whole day with out thinking about food and other days I think about it every second, there's just no balance. So as I'm sure you can already see... this menu/prayer book didn't last long. I've told you all of this so that you can know the history behind me making this blog. I am at last going to dedicate myself to writing down different things in my life beyond food. This will still be a menu in a sense, as I will list the "food for thought" that I partake of on a daily basis. If you are thinking right now that you would rather not partake of these "leftovers" I completely understand. But if you're bored and have the munchies... feel free to stop by.

Oh I should probably tell you before you leave that whenever you see a purple asterisk (*) before something I say, it means that what ever follows is not relevant to the current topic but I thought about it while typing. Skipping these portions of text is optional as it will not add to your understanding of the "main course"