The tooth fairy

       I found my way back up to school again which means a couple of things. One of those things is that as I will be spending much time with my nose in books I will also be spending much time taking "well deserved breaks" on the computer. In theory this will inevitably lead to a bit more blogging as I  may feel that it is a more productive way to get away from homework than walking in front of a bus. I think it's a good substitute.

       Every time I go back to school I am reminded of something about myself. I hate spending money. Paying tuition and living expenses is hard for a penny pincher. Whenever I see large sums of money leave my hand I feel I'm giving away a part of my soul. It's been that way for as long as I can remember and apparently from stories I hear from my parents I've been that way since before I can remember. For example during the early years of our lives (when I was about 2 or 3) my older brother and I were introduced to the concept of the tooth fairy, a mythical, winged being whose entire life was solely dedicated to the gathering of retired teeth and distribution of money for said useless teeth. This was probably done to console my brother who had lost one of his front teeth and needed to know that this didn't mean he was falling apart but that it was perfectly normal. I don't know if it was our childhood innocence or just the exciting concept of getting money for something that was no longer beneficial to us but we latched onto the idea and all of it's wonderful possibilities. Being distracted with this new realization he quickly forgot about the former horror of breaking off pieces of himself and ran upstairs to witness this magic event take place. Our parents told us how it was to work and much like all other mystical creatures it could only come if we were unconscious. who were we to argue with logic. We got into bed and fought for sleep.

       The next morning Kyle woke up excited to find his tooth gone and in its place a nickle and a penny. Excited that this improbable event had taken place he ran to show my parents who acted excited for him while  trying to understand why the dollar that "the tooth fairy" had slipped under his pillow had magically turned into six cents. After a lengthy interrogation they discovered that I  had snuck into Kyle's room after the exchange had been made and made an exchange of my own. That's one conniving toddler. I am happy to report that I no longer steal people's gifts from fairies with strange obsessions about teeth and I like to think my brother has forgiven me since then.

The moral of this story is children are hustlers and swindlers so watch your back.

Here I wrote you a poem

Are You Lost?

A question I posed in an uncharted place

surrounded by trees and mist,

as I was walking with no need for haste

someone grasped my wrist.

I turned to a man who was conflicted inside

someone I never knew.

I asked are you lost to which he replied:

I’m not really sure, are you?

It was then I noticed I too didn’t know.

I bid him a brief goodbye.

I must have been lost having nowhere to go

but what kind of lost was I?

A few on their travels will misread their maps

or lose them when they roam.

For others odd struggles are dropped in their laps

getting lost without leaving home.

These ones lost sight of their beacon or guide,

in a place or just in their mind.

But then there are those who get lost to hide.

To escape their distress for a time

Some get lost just to see what they’ll find

or by whom they will be discovered.

Because someone who’s lost doesn’t have to walk blind

losing some things can make room for others.

This truth I learned in a familiar place

As sunlight drove out the frost

You can find yourself and continue the race

if you know why you are lost.

Well it is a special occasion

        Not too long ago I finally went to the festival of colors in Spanish Fork, Utah. Figured I'd go see what all the fuss was about. Surprisingly I had a wonderful time choking on clouds of ground up chalk and getting attacked repeatedly by strangers who thought I was still too clean. We "burned a witch", threw chalk at small children and mildly vandalized a Hindu temple (all things I never thought I would get a chance to do without the authorities getting involved). Everyone was filthy, everyone was getting barraged and nobody cared, in fact it was encouraged.



     Why was everyone so content with rough and abnormal treatment? Why were people willfully getting lost in crowds of unrecognizables? Why were people asking you to through dirt in their face instead of punching you in the mouth for ruining their shirt. Just more evidence that whoever said 'there is a time and place for everything' was speaking the truth. There are many behaviors that would normally be frowned upon but because of special circumstances they are expected instead. I've never been happier to have multicolored foreign substances coming out of my nose and ears.

                                     

                       I also enjoyed the witch burning. Just probably not as much as this guy.