i love cheese - and it shows

I've been trying my hand at some short stories. I'm hoping with lots of practice, they will get better. Right now they have all the cheese factor of the Star Trek TNG episode "Up The Long Ladder" or Star Trek Animated Series "Bem" - the idea had great potential ... but, well... maybe you should watch the episodes to understand what I mean, as I'm not posting any of my stories here yet! Other great cheesy shows to watch include "Eerie, Indiana" and anything with William Shatner hehe :)

disclaimer: this was writen while listening to Damien Rice's "The Blower's Daugher"

I'm having a day that feels like everything is picking up on my mood and perpetuating it. I am reletively sure we create our own reality and I am doing it myself... yes, Data is seeing threes everywhere and reality suddenly makes sense.
Last night I dreamed an odd dream (what's new there?) but  through out the dream I was looking for something to drink. I was going through cupboards looking for coffee. I drank cranberry juice, went to the fridge to get some orange pineapple juice, was handed a glass of water, and saw someone making a pitcher (yes, plastic pitcher) of dark coffee with a layer of creamer on top. When it was poured, it gave up just the right amount of coffee and creamer and combined itself. Somewhere in there I realized that choosing to never drink anything would be a slow, painful way to die. I woke up.
My son got out of his pj's this morning. They were a sleeper that I had removed the feet from and cut a little v in the back of the collar so I could put them on him backwards - he'd still be comfy but wouldn't be able to take them off. Ha. Ha. Turns out the little v in the collar was just enough room for him to Houdini out of them and well... we've seen this mess before.
After he had a bath and was settled in the high chair with his breakfast, my (WONDERFUL) hubby cleaned up the crib while I took a shower. Somehow it wasn't as refreshing as I thought it would be, my coffee wasn't as good as I'd been craving in my dream, and my daughter was a grouch when I came back out. Never mind that, I should be in a good mood, or at least not a total grouch, so I got the kids settled, tidied up a bit and then started catching stuff up on the computer.
I'm a product of my noisy, technologically advanced society. I can hardly stand quiet. I love music. I had to have some tunes even if my kiddos were ensuring the house would in no uncertain terms be too quiet. Pandora Internet Radio? Me love it long time. I tuned in and it read my mind. I know that that's not one of the Pandora's creators claims. Yet somehow it read my mind, my mood, and started playing Damien Rice's The Blower's Daughter.... then David Grey, Other Side... then Coldplay, Fix You....
While I'm writing my mind is wandering back to things I usually avoid meditating on. My current thought is that one can learn from the past, mistakes or otherwise, chalk it all up to "experience" and do the best you can from there. What is the point in contemplating the what-ifs if it's beyond your power to actually change what happened? I've heard of people going back and changing a tiny detail of a memory to something better every time they think of it until one day, the memory is golden and comforting and happy and nothing near what really happened. Does this ease the soul? It must, if it's needed. Is there a time when this would be called for? Yes. Do I have anything that calls for that? No, unless I've already suppressed it, and have no idea. What if one needs a firm grip on reality one day in the future but lost it in all th flips and switches and imaginings of the past?

anything is possible when you are five

Good ol' technology. With it, I can order a pizza while I'm sitting in my pj's in Idaho to be delivered in somewhere in Texas for my hubby and have it delivered within the hour. Unfortunately, my five year old thought that we'd get a duplicate of the pizza delivered here. When I told her to go get in bed, her eyes welled up with tears and she said, "Mama, I wanted pizzzzaaaah!" Poor baby. I suppose if we hadn't already eaten dinner and I had a lot of extra cash or something, I could in theory order the same order to be delivered here too, from our the pizza place local to us. But no, I'm not going to. I explained that if they delivered the pizza here for Daddy's dinner it would be pretty old and gross when he got home, and he'd still be hungry right now. That seemed to make sense to her so she moved on and convinced me that it was a great idea to let her stay up and watch an episode of Star Trek DS9 on DVD with me.