Tag Archives: cranky

A Grand Blue Funk

Hurricane Sandy & Marblehead [Front Street 9
Hurricane Sandy & Marblehead [Front Street 9 (Photo credit: The Birkes)
I’ve been in a state of ill-humor (does that sound more sophisticated than a funk?) for the better part of today.  I’m tired and cranky, and just need to take my crabby-ass self to bed and hope for a better day tomorrow.

This mood makes no sense when I consider how far removed we are from the hurricane on the east coast.  Really, what in the world do I have to be so grouchy about?  My head is above water.  Our winds are calm.

And yet I am irascible.  So good night nurse.  I’ll get out of the other side of the bed tomorrow.  How lucky am I to feel safe in the assumption that my bed will still be here in the morning, and that it won’t have floated off somewhere with me in it, during this long dark night.

H is for Horoscope Haiku

Horoscope readings can be enigmatic, bewildering and about as clear as mud.  I know they’re generously peppered with words like possibly, likely, might and may, so that no matter how insane the prediction sounds as a whole, there’s always some little obscure bit of it that is close enough to the truth to make you wonder.  Or at the very least laugh and roll your eyes.

Whiteboard: A l33t haiku and somthing else.
Whiteboard: A l33t haiku and somthing else. (Photo credit: blue_j)

Haiku is a little like that too.  Although originally it wasn’t supposed to be funny. The poems were songs, prayers, and incantations to the gods, meant to celebrate an awareness of the moment, holding all things in reverence.  A haiku is a sort of meditation, conveying an image or a feeling.  Of course if you’re not Japanese you’ll have a harder time getting it right.  But you can still be happy with your “English Haiku” efforts simply by saying what you think and adhering to the 5-7-5 syllable pattern.   Never mind all that stuff about season words, two-part juxtapositional structure, and objective sensory imagery.  Really.  I did some research and ended up with a headache.

But not a severe enough one to stop me from mixing horoscope with haiku and coming up with some incredible poetry.  That’s what I’m calling it.  You may want to describe it some other way.

Cranky love partner,

it’s time to pick a path and

try to heal the rift.

***

When you are patient

on the upside or the down,

gaps become smaller.

***

Make him a sandwich.

Love will bloom if you never

let him get hungry.

***

Don’t just go along

ignoring your best talents.

Get off your fat ass.

***

Try to get along,

accept all the differences,

nobody’s perfect.

***

A blast of romance

will broaden your horizons

with far-reaching change.

***

Happiness backdrop

if you travel far away,

persevere my dear.

***

My horoscope didn’t use the exact words get off your fat ass.  I improvised on that phrase and a few others.  Think haiku horoscope will catch on?  Personally I’m kind of hoping this is a one time thing and we never see it again.

Hotest Hot Vs. Coldest Cold

Which one is worse? Worse for what? They’re both the worst for different reasons. Extreme anything is always worse than things in moderation. Extremes tend to make people extremely cranky. Would you rather build a snowman on your front lawn or a sandcastle on the beach? Crank up the heat or crank up the air conditioning?

I don’t like the cold and the snow and seeing my breath in the air. I don’t like how the snow crunches under my feet at 40 below and how the house cracks and groans and how the furnace won’t stop running, and how the heating bill (and the heat) go through the roof. I don’t like winter driving on ice and how sometimes it feels like my tires have frozen into squares, and scraping off the windshield and stomping the snow off my boots and putting on and taking off layers of bulky clothing and still having popsicle fingers and toes.

What I do like about extreme cold is looking at it from the inside out (with a furnace that never stops running of course.) A warm fire and some candles burning, a cozy throw, a good book, a hot drink. I’d be happy to spend the entire month of January every year here inside my nice warm house and never venture out into the freezing cold at all. I don’t like it when my nose gets cold and my eyeballs freeze and my lungs hurt.

I guess I’ve never really experienced extreme heat for very long, since way up here in the frozen north we’re not even sure we know what that is. For a few days one summer our temperatures reached 45 degrees celsius. That’s well over 100 fahrenheit. And too damned hot. Especially for sleeping. Unless there’s a turbo fan pointed directly at your head. When I fly to Ontario in the summer the heat and the humidity seem somehow much worse than our dry windy heat here in the west. It definitely does unfortunate things to my hair.

Everyone at work has been complaining lately that they’re keeping it way too hot in the building. It makes us tired and lethargic. We yawn a lot. We feel strangely moist. Ewww. Not sure what will happen when the cold weather actually sets in – perhaps we’ll be slow cooked. More likely they’ll shut the heat right down to minimum and we’ll be wearing woolen scarves and ear muffs and gloves huddled at our computers shivering ourselves to death.

What’s the BEST thing about extreme weather? We get to COMPLAIN our butts off about it. We get to form fierce opinions about what we hate. We can strike up conversations with complete strangers because they’re sure to commiserate. Some like it hot. Some like it cold. Bitching about whatever it is never gets old. Poetry for the masses.

Give me extreme fog and drizzle with intermittent bursts of misty sunshine. Right now I can’t think of anything bad to say about weather like that. I can breathe in that atmosphere and it feels good on my skin. And everyone’s hair will look like hell, so the state of mine will cease to matter.

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