Capri’s song. The lyrics describe her very well.
The most beautiful girl I’ve met
On the outside she is perfect
But on the inside she is broken
I’m glad I got a chance to know her
But we must allow time to pass
Must part ways
In order to appreciate one another
My dad’s birthday is tomorrow, his 56th. Long live the king. Another day older, another day wiser I guess you could say. We’ve haven’t always seen eye to eye but there has always been a mutual respect between us. His understanding of the world is obviously a whole lot different from mine because of the different times he grew up in. He knows how to use a computer obviously, but there is still many other technological things that would be a mystery to him, like smartphones and tablets. I’m seeing him more often than ever since my parents split, nearly every day now, which is a good sign that our relationship will start to strengthen more over time.
Behold – the number one dating app called Zoosk that I previously viewed as a joke of a dating service, something designed for teenagers, and not at all competitive with big time players like match and eHarmony.
Zoosk is an awesome dating app but having to pay big money, in my case, to view messages and do anything beyond a wink makes this dating app really ineffective.
I want to meet people in my area, like right away, but the need to fork out all the money I have is the barrier between love.
According to Zoosk, my ideal match is literally one mile away, like right down the street somewhere, and it’s kind of silly that I would have to pay 30 dollars a month to talk to her when I could just go up to her door and meet her (not really, that would be creepy).
Here are their prices:
$14.98/mo (one time price of $74.85)
$19.95/mo (one time of $59.85)
$29.95/mo (one time of $29.95)
And there are hidden costs as well.
Overall, you’re going to be paying close to $1000 a year to get the most out of this dating service. Overall, I wouldn’t recommend using this dating service because it’s run by a money hungry corporation. Go out and find someone the old fashioned way because money shouldn’t have to buy you love. There are cheaper alternatives to the elaborate money making scheme Zoosk is running.
Zoosk coins and gifts are a waste of time on the site as well. It’s fun to use the app on my phone, playing the Carousel game of Yes, No, or Maybe and swiping left and there’s joy everytime I see a heart notification at the top of my phone. But I can’t expect to go beyond seeing a couple well selected profile pics and odd flirting method without opening up my wallet and paying to view my match’s profile and interact with her like she’s exclusive property – a hooker.
Until otherwise, you’re fenced in.
Christmas is all about miracles. To be able to change someone’s life for the better or at least give them hope is the best thing this season could offer.
So I am freed from a 1000 year imprisonment of my own lamp, like Genie in Aladdin? And I am asked to choose one person to grant the proverbial three wishes to? Well, after a short thought process, I know who I would choose.
To my dad, who I’ve known since day one, I grant him three wishes that are intended to be used to:
- Ask for regular, organic hips (getting rid of the artificial ones) to be able to walk and run freely again for the first time in a long, long time. This would surely help him get in shape and be healthier and happier.
- Get the job he always wanted with that top notch university degree of his. He always wanted to be a medical biller but has gotten sidetracked in life.
- Rise above the people who control him and be able to make his own decisions.
Daily Prompt: Generous Genies
Remember those lovely genies who grant wishes? Well, you’re one and you’ve just been emancipated from your restrictive lamp. You can give your three wishes to whomever you want. Who do you give your three wishes to, and why?
I definitely like to say that I’m not like my dad, who is so square he could be pass as a building. Stuck in his ways, unable to do anything new. His clothes have stayed the same, his haircut has stayed the same. He was in the marching band; I wasn’t. He had a dog as a kid; I’ve had nothing but a clowder of cats.
The world also revolves around him, as far as he’s concerned. Getting mad at pedestrians for crossing the street, flipping the bird at a driver who cuts him off, and then proceeding to put on a “I hate the world” look for the rest of the day. He also doesn’t know when to not text, sending one about his work schedule every week, sometimes in the middle of the night. It’s the same thing and I don’t really care. He’s been listening to the same music for as long as I’ve known him, the oldies station going back to when it wasn’t known as the oldies station, but something like “new wave” or “new rock”. Flipping through the stations and coming across a catchy Katy Perry or Maroon 5 song, I know it won’t stay on there long. And, flip, I’m right.
On the bright side, he loves hockey and has been going for the Red Wings ever since they were called the Dead Wings. I remember when he used to tape the games on a VCR (sad nostalgic tear), getting it programmed to automatically record the primetime game on the channel, while he was away at work. He would watch the game later, with a bowl of sherbet in his lap and usually shirtless with a hairy dad body, now enjoying having the power to speed through commercials and get to the good parts of the game. As a little kid I would sit down on the couch and observe the game, he occasionally shouting out a random swear word, yelling at the TV everytime a call didn’t go the Wings way. I didn’t have much interest in sports back then like I do now but I tried to watch and understand the meaning of the game, getting that these red suited guys skating up and down the ice and crashing into other players, trying to put a little black rock into a net, was a very special thing to my dad. He still love the Wings to this day, now going down to the Michigan Theatre to see them compete in the playoffs. 24 straight years now, every year since my birth. They don’t always win but they sure put up a fight. I’m not a big fan of hockey like him though. I love football; he only watches it occasionally.
I have realized I’ve inherited some of his self-centered attitude. I do think about myself a lot and am very private with my thoughts. We both can be quieter than a calm sea at times and go off into a corner with no one realizing we’re there. We’re both highly intelligent and have a way with crunching the numbers and strategizing, especially with board games like Clue. He’s very crafty at that game and has a religious passion for it but I’ve since caught up to him in skill after years of trying to figure the game and his sneaky strategy out (some cheating probably involved). He is a good father though who has been through some tough situations in his life, like having to have artificial hips implanted and not being able to enjoy the freedoms of running and excessive celebrations, in fear of misplacing his hip plates and possibly having to be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Which would only add to his pleasure of having people seek pity for him.
My mom, on the other hand, can be a bit of a dim lightbulb. She has a limited education and can say some derogatory things without knowing exactly what’s she saying. She is also absentminded and always forgetting something: wallet, keys, charger cord, driver’s license, library card, credit cards. I like to joke that she would forget her head if it wasn’t screwed on tightly. She not very good with vehicles either, every car she’s owned being broken down and the victim of wear and tear as well as a chronic messiness of bills, wrappers, cans, bills, bottles, crumbs, bills, candy canes, and more papers.
If there is one thing we have in common, it is probably our forgetfulness. I have left behind a couple of possessions in my lifetime and am always misplacing things like my wallet, phone, and those tiny memory cards that like to flip across the room and land in oblivion, being found a year later when things are being moved around. The charger cord extension for my Handycam was left behind in a hotel room last December, forcing me to charge it by plugging it into the computer with its short cord. I’ve gotten along nicely so far, having used the camera to take shots of full moons, the blood moon coming up in a couple days.
There are some similarities between me and my folks, such as the way we look (people are always saying my dad and I look alike) but I like to have some separation in terms of personality and style, even staying away from getting into the same jobs, just to say that I am my own unique person. I love my parents, but sometimes they can do the stupidest and most embarrassing things (please don’t pick your nose, dad, and touch the chips we share) that make me want to never totally end up like them. A good way to be, I say.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “I’ve Become My Parents.”
Do you ever find yourself doing something your parents used to do when you were a kid, despite the fact you hated it back then?
If I met my sisters today,
We wouldn’t know us alike,
They’re the feisty ones, I’m the soft one,
They’d probably still steal my bike
(which my oldest sister did and gave to her friend – I never got it back 😦 )
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Delayed Contact.”
How would you get along with your sibling(s), parent(s), or any other person you’ve known for a long time — if you only met them for the first time today?
The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.
– Ernest Hemmingway
This amazing little quote by the great Hemmingway took me a little while to understand and analyze, but then it all became clear as day. In my own words, I believe it means that by placing a higher importance of one person over yourself and becoming so enchanted by their life, you begin to think anything you do will not be as good and is not worth mentioning. You get lost in the glory of their presence. Whether it be famous celebrities, musicians, Internet icons, writers, or anyone at the top of their game, I think we can all say this “selfish love”, this willingness to follow and admire these people day by day, get to know their ins and outs, be a so-called paparazzo, and forget your life has a purpose as well, resides within us all. This applies to my life and coming across a number of things I thought people did just a little better than me, which made me, in turn, stop to think if I should improve myself to be on their level of greatness or if even trying to reach their level of success is futile and that I should just give up. Yes, they always say you shouldn’t compare yourself to others, but sometimes it can’t be helped because following the “norm” is where the best things lie.
There are a number of bloggers, or to be more accurate, actual published writers, on this grand publishing platform that I admire greatly and whose work I place on a higher level than my own. I’m not saying my stuff isn’t good (self confidence pat on the back) but whenever I read the posts of other bloggers, especially those who have been featured on “Freshly Pressed” (a feature I rarely, if ever, use), I get this realization that what I put out would probably look silly and amateur if placed alongside theirs. It humbles me. But we’re not here to compete with anyone, are we? Everyone is entitled to their own style of blogging and being different is what makes everything fun. Like the pile of alphabet letters above – every glyph is unique and serves its own purpose, has it’s own rhyme and reason. Unlike the bags of pistachios below, all the same, manufactured under a recurring brand, optimized for your enjoyment each time.
Learning the tricks of the trade from those who have done it best is probably the best part about blogging (or anything else) since you only push yourself to be better each time. I don’t have any “selfish love” on here since I don’t follow any one person every day and usually am working on my own thing and making myself feel special. There are days when I don’t read anyone’s posts at all, but when one comes along that literally makes me say “Wow”, there clicks in my head the need for more self improvement, admiring what they did so well, wanting to mimic or at least be inspired by it. Being humble and modest, never giving myself too much credit or importance, and not having a big-headed ego keeps me leveled and focused on continuing to improve everytime, instead of assuming I’ve already reached my peak and am already the best I can be.
It’s okay to have people you admire and care about everyday, even a person in your family, or a spouse, if you’re married, but don’t let their needs and wants outweigh your own personal agenda. You have a life to live as well, have a right to choose what you like and dislike, instead of catering to their needs. That’s the number one reason so many marriages never last – the balance of power is always out of whack, one side always wants more. Thank goodness I’m not married right now or I would never be able to live my ideal life which right now consists of video making, writing, photography, and anything else on the side that makes up my ideal personality. I’m not saying I ever want to get married but going solo right now has its benefits, for better or worse.
That’s the one mistake I made with my last real girlfriend (nearly six years ago in high school); I lost track of what I wanted to do in life, lost track of my goals, my aspirations, since I was so wrapped up in her life (which never amounted to much). I never realized I should have been thinking about the ideal college I wanted to go to, the career option I wanted to study for. That was all put on the back burner and when it came time to start thinking about that stuff, I realized I hadn’t even thought about my future that much, that time was already becoming tight and things felt like they were being rushed, which is why I ended up going to a community college for a year, trying to settle on something until I figured out what I really wanted to do. I don’t regret being in a relationship since it made me feel whole and have emotions I never felt before, but now I realize it was all silly business, a silly teenage romance (we never dated again), and there were more important things I should have been thinking about, which would have made my future today just a tad bit different. But the past is the past and there’s nothing I can do about it. I can only keep looking to the future for the light that finally shines my way.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: Third From the Top
Head to “Blogs I Follow” in the Reader. Scroll down to the third post in the list. Take the third sentence in the post, and work it into your own.
Remember when you said you wanted to read my blog and I gave you the web address to it? I told you the name, spelling out the letters since it is a funny word that you most likely wouldn’t understand, but apparently you didn’t register it completely and said you would come back to it later, maybe when you had more time. I could have written it down but that would have made me seem a bit pretentious, a bit needy. Well, you still have not gotten back to me on this, haven’t informed me of your decision to check out my work. I know you have been busy as of late with your surgical appointments and trying your best to get by at work with your predicaments, but I would be feel greatly appreciated if you had, in the back of your mind perhaps, the future intention of visiting my blog, had it as a priority to see what your son has been cooking up for the last few months, to see how much thought and practice went into turning this little project of mine into something worthwhile and central to my identity. You would no longer be in the dark with this hobby of mine, the mystery would be lifted, you would understand my reasons for doing this better than ever, would change your mind about it being an irrelevant time waster.
As of now, you are in a hospital bed at MacLaren’s resting after just having surgery to realign your artificial hip joint. I hope your surgery went well and you are doing fine, though word from Jack and posts on Facebook seem to confirm that you made it through alright. I know it is not easy being in your position and life gets tougher for you as these problems with your hips resurface after ten years, 2005 being the last time you had to get hip replacements. I know your job at the Dollar General is not the most ideal for you and the people you work with are not your biggest fans, since your disability does make it difficult to stand all day and to move at the speed strictly required for this job. I can only imagine the stress and pain you must feel after about an hour of continuous standing behind the cashier counter, unable to use a stool because it wouldn’t look good for business in the manager’s eyes. You are being very mistreated at this job, a cruel deal of them cutting back your hours to basically fit one full work day, making barely enough money to pay for gas on a weekly basis. Finding a job has been difficult for you, application after application going through and coming back with a big fat “Rejected” stamped on it, and landing this one at Dollar General was basically taking whatever you could get. I hope you are welcomed back with open arms when you do eventually return to your job, but I assume you and I are going to take that with a grain of salt since the history with your fellow employees has been rocky.
If the right time comes around and you do take the opportunity to read my blog someday, I hope you realize the budding talent I have nurturing here, what amazing experience I have been partaking in for the last year and a half. I would love for you to get a glimpse at some of the most inner, personal thoughts I have always had on my mind but never shared with you or anyone else for that matter. I would really love to make you proud, to see a smile form on your face, to have something to share with you that we could then converse about over an afternoon lunch, or when we are in the car alone. My biggest hope for this blog was to have people be interested in reading about events in my life and being inspired by the thoughtful pieces I have written. It soon turned into a place where I could mediate through writing, could explore different ways to interpret ideas, play around with different genres of writing. It soon led to a place where I could share pictures, showcase my growing talent for photography. Photography soon led to developing the poetic side of my mind, being able to express ideas creatively with artful prose. When I started this blog back in June of 2013, I really had no idea where this would lead me and it didn’t start off that smoothly. I spent a lot of time writing my very first posts, meticulously checking them over, adding and deleting bits I found interesting or just redundant, but they just didn’t appeal to anyone, being completely ignored for the most part. It wasn’t until late September 2014 that this blog truly took off, reaching heights I had not seen yet, sparking a brand new fire inside myself, opening up the door to new and exciting ideas that had always eluded me. If you looked back on the early months in the life of this blog, you would see that I started off writing epic long pieces that tried to include as much detail as possible in order to impress a potential gracious audience. But the trouble I ran into as time went on is that I had no plan set in motion for this blog, was not aware of the many things I could have been doing to improve my blog beyond a jumbled pile of words and pictures.
When you get out of the hospital, there lies a hope inside me that you will witness a sort of “rebirth”, a new sense of hope being introduced into your life. I really want you to look at life differently from now on, to approach things differently. By taking a trip to my little corner of the web, I truly believe you will learn so much more about your own son that you had never known before and will greatly enjoy what you see.
Your immensely talented son, Matt
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Audience of One.”
If God created everyone in his image
Shouldn’t everyone be able to love?
No matter if opposites attract or not?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Bone of Contention.”