The Presidential Task

What’s the 11th item on your bucket list?

I made a post for a bucket list of mine sometime last year. The list isn’t numbered but the eleventh item listed (not technically by importance) is:

  • Write a letter to the President of the United States

Okay, so I may have been joking when I put this down, because, seriously, what low-Earth citizen wouldn’t dream of writing (or emailing, Skyping, or livestreaming) a personal message to the most powerful man in the western world? Or you can just be Kid President or any popular YouTuber and meet him (or her).

The next president of the United States is looking more and more like it may be a woman. It is no longer a mere possibility now but a strong one. Hillary Clinton, while she may be pushing seventy, is about the only person in the pool of potential, but unlikely, candidates, that has any legitimate shot at giving the Oath on January 20, 2017. I’m not really that into politics and this post is going to be mostly fluff, but she probably has the most experience in politics out of everyone, especially Donald Trump who is actually deliberately trying to extinguish his chances at becoming the 45th, but still leading the polls somehow. Because Hillary already has the experience of being a First Lady and being beside Bill Clinton, familiarity and public confidence will play a role in her winning this coming November. Never mind that an article I found on RedState basically gives great reasons why she is too old to run, I just want to see the best person win, and a change of gender for a change.

If I were to write a letter to the future president Hillary Rodham Clinton (let’s just assume), the first thing I would ask her is how it feels like to have power than your husband for a change (not that she always has, but it’s more apparent now). I would also ask what sort of changes she will be striving to make (but not with all the strings of false hope attached as with Mr. Obama).

Wake Up Call

Waking up from a vivid dream
The details still fresh in mind
I groggily rubbed my eyes
As the elder forced me to rise

It was a plasma day
And money was in sight again
As were the last night’s leftovers
Custard pie looking a delicious ten

The light of the morning greets once more
My simple little world materializing before
And sitting there on my sleeping couch
I felt less than a ten, more like a four

My eyes were itchy
My left ear was stuffed
Not to mention still being tired
From the turkey’s magical stuff

The normal day is getting reacquainted
With the state of operations in my head
All systems through the checklist
Musical number to motivate the trend

My progress may seem slow
And life isn’t reaching any new heights
But on the bright side, I can still count on
A few nice luxuries to entertain the night

I guess I’m the lucky one after all
That I don’t have to worry about
Tomorrow night’s meal
As there’s a lot more wildbird leftover
And one delicious (manufactured) pumpkin pie
To keep it all real

In Response to: “The Luckiest People”

Who was the first person you encountered today? Write about him or her.

The Lone Masquerade

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

Shucks, I can’t remember what it was I thought about before waking up this on this plain Jane morning. I know I was dreaming about something, but I can’t remember what exactly the dream was about; it was very vivid and deep, I must say, and I didn’t want to wake up just yet because of the story getting really dark and gritty but it started to fade as my morning mind took over, along with my uncle reminding me it was a plasma day. I vaguely remember the dream having something to do with the Pokerap that has been stuck in my head all day, after I featured it in my Throwback Thursday post yesterday, or all the entertaining YouTube videos I ended up watching after the original video was over, all within my blog. It started with Vsauce, a really entertaining channel of science, facts, and humor, and then trailed off into “the guy of a kajillion voices” and some 107 random facts about popular cartoons.

Of course, I thought of my blog, like on most days, contemplating what the Daily Prompt assignment is going to be about, wondering if I’ll finally publish a post around the same time that the “core” of super bloggers do (not today either). I’m talking about the bloggers I frequently see publishing posts in the morning to early afternoon; one of those I’m following is nearly always first because of his typical short witty responses. I’m always late to the party, choosing my own time. It’s this resentment, as well as my tiredness, to following along with this daily “sheep fest” that has me riding off the rails and wanting to do my own thing, for better or worse.

Explaining the title, one of the more humorous and strange things to happen today was my dad wearing a black masquerade “Batman” mask while driving down the highway on the way to the second of our weekly plasma donations, to a couple of concerned stares. He wore the mask into the plasma center as well, trying to seek attention but which wasn’t happening, to his disappointment and sulking later on. The screening booth attendant told him to take it off and he complained. Seriously, what were you thinking? He was the only one wearing a mask, looking rather silly. It’s not even Halloween yet – don’t embarrass yourself.

Speaking of Halloween and masks, my costume this year will be a hasty redo of a previous year’s edition. I’ll likely don my Darth Vader mask again along with a black t-shirt, pants, and shoes – minus the plastic lightsaber, that would be too much – and head off to the “haunted” Halloween party just around the corner in the community clubhouse. I’m hoping I’m not the only 20-something there amidst a bunch of children, which I very much doubt, but will still enjoy myself with donuts, cider, and the many cliches of Halloween strung and laid all around.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Comedy of Errors (and bonus assignment!).”

Do you keep a notebook next to your bed? Good. Today, jot down the first thought you have upon waking, whether or not it’s coherent.

I used to keep a notebook next to my bed, when I was jotting down my dreams, but I got tired of that and lost interest. So, sorry to disappoint you, WordPress monkeys. Maybe next time you’ll have luck making a “good” assumption about me.

Humble Bumble

I like to say my home is a humble and nice place to live in. It’s nothing that special, being in a sea of mostly identical homes, but there are some daily pleasures that keep it from being a soulless shell and keep me in high spirits.

The Futon – Basically the centerpiece furniture, right in front of the TV. Where I wake up and blog everyday. Soft, comfortable, luxurious, and an eater of all possessions. I find myself taking my socks on and off, feeling so lazy and relaxed. My place of inspiration. I’m thinking about creating a new a blog and calling it something like “The Futon Chronicles” or “Life from the Futon”.

Futon photo futon_zpsbl94h6zx.jpg

Electric organ – Even though I haven’t played it in months, it’s a nice addition and gives the house a classier look, for what it’s worth. Right now it acts as a junk collector, gathering dust. No one in the family is really musically inclined or even interested in music, which is why the organ is becoming another useless piece of furniture. I tried learning to play the organ, tried learning simple songs from a children’s beginner book, but gave up after realizing it wasn’t going to take me anywhere.

Flat screen TV – Best thing to come out of my free college money. Most likely wouldn’t have bought a new TV without that free money but would have still been using a fat and heavy CRT. There are only ten channels that appear on that TV through an antenna. The alternative is Netflix and YouTube through the Blu-ray player, which has much more variety and freedom from the same stuff everyday. Stephen Colbert is great though. Great work, CBS, getting this fresh and humorous comedian to replace the stale Letterman.

Fridge – I must open this 20 times a day, hoping to find something new but it’s always the same bare essentials.

Posters – I’m collecting one every couple days, trying to make my abandoned room look more colorful and fun. Covering up all the bare walls and making the room an adventure to walk into everyday is a crazy goal of mine.

My dream home would be one resting by the lake. I would love to have a boat to ride out on every day for a day of relaxation, sightseeing, and maybe fishing for large mouth bass and shrimp. Of course, I wouldn’t find living in an apartment in New York City either, hearing the cars and people being restless all night while I lie awake in my bed five stories up staring up at the moonlight being cast on the ceiling. There’s something about the noises in the dead of the end that make me have some real vivid dreams.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Home Turf.”

Name five things in your house that make it a home.

Freedom Rider

Photo credit: William Woodward –

Unbound by life,
Cool breeze in my air,
Me and the highway,
Unbound, going anywhere

Unbound by family,
Just me and the wind,
Passing billboards,
Vegas: Maximum Win

The top is down,
Ironsides are spinning,
The fire in my eyes,
My true life is beginning

In my blue dream open,
The evening sky calm,
Inspirational songs,
No tension in my palms

And I just want to scream
And I might want to cry
The excitement in my heart
Not wanting this to die

And along that empty desert road
A freedom was found
A king and his car hit the ground

So I’ve always had dreams that I was racing along some road, maybe all by myself or frantically trying to weave through dangerous traffic. I can’t legally drive a car in real life because I still don’t have my license so it is still my dream someday to be able to go anywhere I want without first having to ask someone for a ride (which would help with finding a job in far flung places). God, I just love writing poetry!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

My Bucket List

Buckets by the shore

Recently, I’ve been thinking about writing a post about things I would like to accomplish in life before it expires someday. It has come to my attention that there is so much I have never done yet, so much of this world to explore for me. I have created a rough, pending bucket list of the different sights, sounds, and activities I wish to witness. Some are within my grasp, while some might require some blood, sweat, and tears (and money) to complete. Hopefully I’m not about to kick the actual bucket like Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson when these come into play.

My dream list, in no particular order:

  • Buy a new camera, preferably a Nikon or Canon, the professional photographers choice.
  • Learn a new language
  • Fly in an airplane – and then skydive out of one
  • Learn to juggle
  • Pet an alligator (with its mouth unrestrained)
  • Go to California
  • Visit Washington D.C., walk by the White House gate
  • Go to Paris, get a perspective shot of the Eiffel Tower
  • Spot the Google Streetcar on one of its rounds
  • Get front row tickets to a concert of my favorite band
  • Write a letter to the President of the United States
  • Visit Mount Rushmore, Mount Everest, and Mount St. Helens
  • Have at least one video on YouTube that gets over 1,000,000 views
  • Win the lottery
  • Visit all 50 states
  • Visit all the Canadian providences
  • Win the PCH “Money for Life” sweepstakes (better than winning the lottery)
  • Start my own business
  • Photograph a tornado
  • Photograph a lightning bolt
  • Sip champagne in a limo
  • Read the entire Bible
  • Be in Times Square on New Years Eve (I fibbed about this on Facebook once)
  • Go scuba diving
  • Visit Africa
  • Accomplish most of this bucket list, or just laugh out loud at its absurdity

Most of these were thought off the top of my head, while some were inspired by ones featured on I may be crazy to think all, if any, of these will be possible, but it’s better to dream big than to not dream at all. I believe the thing to creating a bucket list is to fantasize enough but keep realism in check, going with ideas in your head that you know are the most sensible. Probably the most important one on here is winning the lottery, followed closely by Times Square, visiting all 50 states, and skydiving.

Feel free to comment if you have something worth discussing on your personal bucket list.

Birthday Wishes



“Look, Lorie, it’s a comet!”, shouted her brother Pascal, nudging her slightly. They were sitting together on the roof of their house, just outside the open window of Lorie’s small room, listening to the crickets chirp and the wind blow calmly. Sure enough, when the teenage girl looked up, a brilliant trail of silvery dust could be seen speeding across the stellular sky. It quickly disappeared behind the horizon of trees in the distant countryside.

What a great thing to see on her birthday, Lorie thought. Nothing too exciting ever happened around the sleepy hillside just on the East side of the river that snaked though this part of Garris County. She sometimes wished she could get away and experience what was on the other side of the river, what mysteries she would uncover. Pascal and she would come up here often in the evenings just after supper had finished and mom and dad had settled into their favorite TV show together. It was a peaceful moment of bonding for them and they usually didn’t say much but let Mother Nature do the talking.

It had been a good day for the girl from a small town in the rural landscape. Her mother, a very fine chef, had meticulously baked her a cake, chocolate with strawberry frosting, and when she went to blow out the fifteen candles on top, she secretly wished for a number of things to happen to her in the future:

No.1 – She would marry a handsome prince who rode through the country on a white horse. No, that sounds so cliché and fairytale like. She did want to meet someone with a little ambition in life though, someone she could travel the world with, him having money being an obvious thing in this case, though she would definitely want to have her own source of wealth. This man would come from a rich family, of course, and would have attended the finest colleges, preferably one from the North.

No. 2 – Her eighteenth birthday would be even more extravagant than anything before. She imagined it being held in a large dance hall with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Everyone would be dressed up in their finest clothes, the men in tailored suits, the women in free-flowing dresses. She would be like the queen, everyone singing for her, all the eligible bachelors wanting a chance to dance with her on that smooth parquet floor.

And No. 3 – She would have had the greatest last year of high school during that eighteenth year. Many unimaginable things would happen to her. Lorie would be elected Homecoming Queen, walking along the good-looking King who happened to be the star quarterback of the football team. She would get to take the class trip to a faraway country, preferably Paris, since that is what she had heard was exclusive to the upperclassmen of her school. Again, it all sounds so cliché, but after living her life for so long in a low-key, unassuming way, being able to do something that not everyone gets so lucky to do and being celebrated for just once would elate Lorie.

She would love to have a day everyday that celebrated her, made her feel like the most important thing in the world. Like having a birthday everyday, as Katy Perry would say (yes, she knew about pop music even way back in this area where it all but seemed unlikely to exist, having listened to her friends music at school), getting the most wonderful gifts, being able to go anywhere she chooses. She would be floating on a weightless cloud, not a thing to harm her, always happy.

“Hey, Lorie, you okay?”

She hadn’t realized she was still sitting up there on the roof with Pascal, having drifted off into deep fantasizing thought. Pascal had made as if he was about to go inside again, silently gesturing for his sister to do the same.

“Yeah, I’m fine, was just thinking about something”, Lorie answered, still looking ahead towards the forest, the last bit of sunlight slowly sinking.

“What was that?,” Pascal asked curiously, choosing to sit back down again.

“Just something amazing. I can’t hardly put it into words but it is nice.”

Pascal didn’t answer this time but looked at Lorie as if he was intrigued by what she said. After she seemed to fall into deep thought again, he simply smiled and sat there quietly with her, just staring at the cosmic display of stars amid the half crescent moon.

After a few minutes, he finally broke the silence.

“It’s okay to dream sis, but don’t let it go to your head.”

Lorie finally looked at him after he had said this. He must had figured what she thinking then  With him being a few years older than she is, he was basically fit to tell her to not be so naive when it came to the world, that not everything is as good as it seems. Sure, she thinking she may get to be a famous moviestar someday might had seemed an impossible thing, but in her dreams it seemed closer than ever as if she were actually there on the red carpet…

With this final thought, she sighed deeply and went back inside, Pascal following close behind. She’ll get to show off someday, Lorie solemnly thought.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Festivus for the Rest of Us.”