Packing Hot Chocolate
Successfully packing a suitcase
is impossible
since on Thursday it will be hotter outside
my body than in,
and certain items will seem absurd,
but on Saturday
snow will sneak into the gap
between my socks and shoes,
soaking their contents
and making my destination more desirable
than when the mountains made it impossible
to want to leave the trails
for the warmth
of hot chocolate.
Poem:
I never really explained the background image for my blog, and while this poem doesn't directly relate, it's a good enough segue. I love the west, and a lot of my poetry is a direct result of this. The picture is from a place called Antelope Canyon, and it's simply amazing. So this poem is about the variety offered by traveling that direction. It's both challenging and exciting to pack for a vacation knowing that one day you will be sweating like crazy just from walking around and looking at things, and the next there will be potential for snowball fights. The ending is perhaps too idealized. It's true that the cold makes me more willing to leave the beautiful scenery, and that my dislike for snow in my shoes would probably eventually win out over my appreciation for mountain-scapes, but it's never a complete willingness. I'll always look back over my shoulder as I get inside the vehicle to leave, and while I appreciate the heater, I'll constantly crane my neck to make sure I don't lose sight of the beauty.
Observation:
Well, this actually might wind up going together with the poem. An exciting coincidence indeed. Today's topic concerns the fact that it is cold in Iowa during the winter. Now, I usually handle the cold pretty well. In fact, I pride myself somewhat on my tolerance. But I can't stand the fact that when my hands are cold, the water from the sink feels hot no matter what. So I usually do my best to bear it until my hands are the right temperature again, even though it stings a bit. Now, to appreciate this fully, you should probably know that a decent amount of my job consists of doing dishes. So I spend a lot of time at a large metal basin of a sink with an industrial faucet/tap that jets out quite a lot of water at once. The end result is that my hands go from cold to hot pretty quick.
Now, the story gets a little more interesting (hard for it not to, right?) when yesterday it took much longer for my hands to get over the cold than usual. It just stung a lot more than I was expecting, and I couldn't really figure it out. I tried to just tolerate it until it went away like normal, but it wasn't really working. Eventually, of course, I realized the problem. usually the lever for hot water is at fifty percent and the lever for cold water is all the way on. Well, their positions had been reversed, and I was quite literally scalding myself. I even developed a blister on my hand where the stream was most concentrated. And I blame all of this on Iowa winters. If I had been surprised by my hand's pain I might have thought burning myself was a bad idea, but Iowa had to go and condition me to think that it's normal to hurt yourself when washing your hands.
Exercise:
"Scene From Your Own Life, POV Switch"
Think of a scene from your own life and write a brief description of it from the point of view of someone else who was there. Try to explore how you (or a fictionalized version of you) might have appeared to this person at the time, but also how this person might have seen the entire situation. Include at least three small details that this other person could have noticed.
Well, that guy is a jerk. I don't know why he thinks he's smarter than everyone. It's obvious he just spends too much time reading in order to sound like he knows what he's talking about. I can't believe the teacher likes his comments, either. He always has to have the last little chuckle. Sarcasm should be saved for people who actually want to hear him talk. But no, every day I come in here so I can be prepared for the test materials, and every day he has to ask stupid technical questions (and crack little jokes while he's at it). He's probably making the tests harder, too, come to think of it. Now she'll expect us all to know the answer to his most recent question. What a jerk. And what's with the shorts? Doesn't he know it's cold outside? Sitting there with his feet propped up on the chair in front of him, arms crossed and looking so concerned about esoteric philosophical problems. What a strange combination of casual posture and intense focus. I wish he'd just make up his mind. And buy a new pair of shoes. Those are falling apart. Jerk.
Me:
As you may have guessed, I enjoy sitting comfortably in my philosophy classes, don't care about my attire much, and ask too many smart-alecky questions. Also, I'm a jerk. I do like philosophy, though.
Events from today included working (though not much at the sink, for a nice change) and shopping (got some new used books downtown and some groceries.). And getting mad at the blogging website for not letting me type in the text field. But I fixed it by switching to an older version of the editor, whatever that means. So I guess I get to post this after all, which is nifty. I also played some handball (albeit poorly), and I'm looking forward to my upcoming tournament in Colorado, even though it's still a month away. I'm liking these five minute writing exercises. I don't know if anyone else has an opinion on their inclusion in the blog. If you do, feel free to drop a comment down below. Any feedback at all is welcome, really.
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