Archive for February, 2009

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Crazy Nazi Zombie Aliens…and the People Who Love Them

February 27th, 2009

Last night I had a dream…

I am locked in a school cafeteria with a group of people.  We keep checking the windows and doors because something is coming.  And then we see it…Crazy Nazi Zombies…and they are out to get us.  Immediately I go into action mode, karate kicking and chopping and beating up Nazi Zombies like there’s not tomorrow.  I am the General Patton of Nazi Zombie beating.  Finally…they’re all defeated.  But just as we’re getting ready to leave…boom…more Nazi Zombies, but this time they talk and know how to use weapons.  They immediately kill one of friends (sorry Jones), so I do this super jump up to the ceiling where I use my acrobatic Jackie Chan skills to fling myself from pipe to pipe to escape.  I reach the roof, where I see someone across the street has broken into an armory, and starts mowin down zombies with machine guns.  Awesome, we’re saved.  So we’re trying to deal with this post-zombie world, when all of the sudden…Aliens!   They’re shooting us with lazers from thier space ship, so I tell everyone not to move so they can’t see us (Everyone knows Aliens eye sight is motion sensitive…duh!).   I jump up on a wall, and in true David and Goliath style I fling a rock at them…and their ship crashes!  The world is on it’s way to being saved…so me and my Dad strap on some hunting gear and get to work…

- Fin -

So, as you can tell, I am one of those people who has amazingly vivid dreams, and I more often than not remember them and share them with people who then think I’m crazy.   I love dreams; and luckily, since sleeping is one of my favorite hobbies, I have a lot of them.

Dreams are the one place where you can be whoever you want, do whatever you want, go wherever you want.  You can be a superhero and save lives…and if you’re into it (rice cakes), you can even wear the blue and red tights.  You can see the great pyramids, visit the land down under (Australia, not South Jersey…who would wanna go there?), ski the Alps, hang out in Atlantis.  Fight crime, date that girl you’ve always wanted to, fly through the sky, levitate things (one of my favorites), or, in unfortunate cases, show up to work in nothing but your underwear…oh wait, that wasn’t a dream…

Anyway, my advice to all of you: sleep more, dream more, imagine more.  You’ll never know where your mind might take you next.  Just make sure you wear pants to work.

- Just Call Me Lungs

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Posted in Dreams, What I Wish

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Seasons – A Poem by Rice Cakes

February 24th, 2009

Seasons -
Bare branches,
In the morning sun.

Frosty pines,
Still as death.
Bright stars,
Lighting up the sky.

Flowing Rivers,
Into still lakes.
Budding flowers,
In purple clouds.

Sounds of thunder,
And moonlit nights.

Rice Cakes

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Posted in World View

In the words of Billy Joel….

February 24th, 2009

… I’m Movin’ Out.  At the present time, I have successfully moved almost all of my stuff out of the house I have been living in for the past 5 years, and into the house where my fiance and I will be living.  It has been a very exciting, yet exhausting few weeks getting things organized and packed, and finally starting to move it. 

During the move, I realized that there is something in me that: 1) Makes me over-estimate my strength, and 2) Makes it difficult for me to ask for help.  I am an avid reader, and I have TONS of books… mostly paperback.  I decided initially to pack all of these books from my bookcase in one box…. they are mostly paperback, and well I run marathons and do yoga… A few years ago I did 43 perfect push-ups in a minute as part of a job related physical test… I am strong and this certainly shouldn’t be a problem for me to lift, right?  So, here I am in my bedroom, thinking I am going to move this box to the other side of the room to make it easier for me to pack up a few other things… I bend down to pick it up, always lifting with the legs and not the back (I am not stupid)… low and behold, the damn thing won’t budge.  Hmm… maybe I can just push it across the room by sort of kicking it for now and rethink this later… Nope… thats not working either.  The phone rings… its my Dad… he asks what I am doing, and I explain it to him.  Do you want me to come help you?, he asks… oh no Dad, I don’t need your help… these are mostly paperbacks… but thanks for asking.  Shortly after, I speak to the fiance… he says, he can lift that up for me if I need him to the next time he is over…. I don’t need his help though… these are mostly paperbacks… no problem.  I go back to the box… and circle it… sizing up my enemy… I know I can move this thing… I just need to get some leverage.  So, here I go… 3 point stance… hands go up onto the side of the box, and I just start pushing… still not enough leverage… but it was moving a little bit.  Success is soon to be mine… I get my shoulder into this time, essentially like I am trying to tackle someone, and push this thing across the room near the door.  I realize this is not something I will ever get down the stairs and into the trunk of the car… frankly, I don’t even the think the people I could have asked help from would have been able to lift this thing…

At the suggestion of my fellow friends here at Is There Any Cake Left?… these books were later split between 4 boxes, which were filled the rest of the way with much lighter fare.  This worked like charm because: 1) I could lift the box, and 2) I didn’t have to ask anyone for help…. that would have been a tragedy.

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Posted in Living in NJ

Caution: Slow Children Playing

February 22nd, 2009

I was driving home from work the other day, weaving in and out of traffic, getting frustrated that the last half mile of my commute was going to take more than 3 minutes.  Ughh…these idiots in front of me…don’t they understand I need to be somewhere?  So I cut off several people to get over so I could take the side roads.  One guy honked and gave me a friendly gesture…yes, I know that I’m Number One…thanks for reminding me.  I gave him a nice friendly honk in return.

slow_children_at_play_sign

So I turned onto the side roads, and that’s when I saw the sign (…and it opend up my eyes I saw the sign…) –  Caution: Slow Children Playing.  My immediate reaction was to laugh…there’s just something funny about the image of slow children playing out in the road.  Evil, politically uncorrect, I know.  Just how my mind works sometimes.  But the sign did get me thinking about how stressed I was to be rushing home through backroads to save a fraction of a minute in my car…like I’m in a race against time.  And why?  Because I’m an American and a Jerseyan at heart.

 

Fast food.  Fast cars.  Fast money.  Instant Coffee.  Instant Messages.  Instant Satisfaction.  Americans…we want it fast, we want it now.  Webpage not loading fast enough?  Get a faster connection.  Taking too long to get from point A to point B?  Get a faster car.  Walk faster, work faster, eat faster, live faster, sleep faster…I’m even trying to type this post faster.  I just read a book called “In Praise of Slowness”…over 400 pages…I finished it in 3 days…can’t even slow down to read a book on slowness.   Why are we so obsessed?

When’s the last time you took some time to slow down, breathe a little, and really enjoy the simple things around you?   When’s the last time you didn’t run from your car to your front door, so you could take a minute a look at the stars?  So what that it’s 20 degrees out…man up…winter’s the only time you get to see Orion and the Dippers (no, that’s not the name of a funky 70’s band).  When’s the last time you climbed a tree…and no, not to look into someone’s window stalker…actually climb a tree, sit in the branches, and enjoy the warmth of a summer day, the sound of the breeze through the leaves, the smell of a BBQ nearby.  How about the last time you curled up with a good book next to a sunny window, just lost in a fantasy world for hours on end?

Whatever it is that’s your simple pleasure…whether it be running, reading, hiking, painting, playing music, baking cake, whatever…take some time for it.  Be more like that child you used to be…who understood that playing, especially at a slow place, was much more important than working…that enjoying life and all that it has to offer is much more important than meeting deadlines and making that quick buck.  So this week, take some time and and be that slow child playing.  Caution:  You might just enjoy going slow.

-  Just Call Me Lungs

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Posted in Current Trends, Life, Living in NJ

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My blog V-card

February 18th, 2009

Well here it is…my blog virginity, gone. It’s yours, take it. It’s a big moment for me that only comes once and I wanted it to be perfect…I guess this is it. This cake idea has come out of the gates faster than I ever imagined and if you’re reading and I don’t know you then it’s successful thus far. It’s your cake now, take some and come back for more…yea, I’m easy like that.

You see, I was hesitant to start blogging because while I’m still young (20-something) I do remember a day when SPAM was just canned meat and girls kept diaries which boys were not allowed to read, or have, unless they REALLY wanted to get made fun of. Some dudes in those days tried to have a “journal”, but Journal =’d Diary (nice try losers).

I can’t say that anymore. Diary = Journal = Blog these days and much like opinions, everyone has one. Here is mine. Like my own little piece of the pie but sweeter – cause it’s cake. While I’m at it I can also share with you my non-canned SPAM, which comes in the form of emails offering prescription drugs without the prescription at street-pharmacist prices, offers to improve the size and reliability of my muscle(s), and repeated opportunities to help the royalty of a foreign nation launder money through my bank account to evade taxes for a small phenomenal fee paid to me that would probably cost them more than if they just paid the damn taxes. I almost don’t categorize these particular emails as spam because judging by their horrific grammar and spelling I can tell they definitely aren’t from an English speaking territory, but being the patriot I am I politely decline to assist.

I guess what I’m trying to say that if it weren’t for the World Wide Web, SPAM would be meat and this would be a diary, but I don’t have a diary. I have a blog. It’s different. No really, it is…

 

You can call me Banks (because I’m so money. No jk, but props to you if you do get the name reference). I’ll be back soon and frequently. Hope you’re hungry for cake…

 

-Banks

3 comments »

Posted in What I Wish