Not a bad . . .

looking elf. Don't much care for him in anything else, but I love the elf bit. Something amazingly mysterious and completely hot about it. Yum . . .

Photos courtesy of orlandobloom.wz.cz. Can't vouch for their authenticity on that site, though. Couldn't find good ones on imdb.

Live, Love, Laugh

It's an easy way to sum up the past 10 days or so. While tourney is great, so very rewarding, the complete exhaution that one feels (and the occasional stress) ends up making everyone extremely emotional. The saving grace is that the good times completely outweigh the hard ones, that you're surrounded by people who understand everything that you encounter and can share their own stories as well, and the people who agree to participate in the journey that is tournament.

The best quote of tournament, aside from the typical "That's what she said" quotes, was this: "If I wore a dress like that, I'd look like a giraffe."

This year's song (yep, we choose a song every year in the media center):

Thriller, as performed by the inmates.

Last year's was Milkshake.

And no, there's no real way to dance to "Jump" by Van Halen, but damned if I didn't try!

(Here it is if you forgot what it sounds like:
Van Halen – Jump)

Great bands that I saw last week: Liquid Pleasure and Sleeping Booty.

Vocation vs. Avocation

(January 21, 1999)

Other people have no more power than we do. They have the knack for making us think they can do anything.

A little adjustment in our minds will stop the thought that we must cope and compete with those who have greater advantages. If we believe anything holds us back, limits our ability, we can know without a doubt that more ability resides in us than we will ever have time to hone and develop.

When we are doing something we love to do, it comes naturally to mind our own business and to polish our own skills. Love for the right work takes it out of the role of labor and competition and makes it into a work of art.

Then, the little competitive self is dissolved into a giant that didn't realize how much he was growing.

Peace,
Tawanka

Om . . .

Yep, I really should be doing some yoga. Or sleeping. Especially since I need to be somewhere by 7:30 a.m. tomorrow morning.

It's going to be a busy week. Next week is going to be even more ridiculous, but fun. And amazingly rewarding. Tournament starts.

Regardless, the point is that I need to be taking care of myself so that I don't turn into the witch that I can turn into when I'm grumpy. Which has already happened. (Sorry, again. You know who you are.)

Nonetheless, wanted to share this with all of you: the great fun I had last Thursday evening at the opening at the Marshall Art Gallery, where Melody made a necklace I just had to have. And I've got a piece of marvelous fused glass that I truly don't know what to do with, except stare. It's been providing a good amount of amusement for me at the new job. Yep, I'm decorating my office with original art . . . I'm waiting on more to get here (any day now!) from Etsy.

I'd also be remiss to not mention that I've just remembered that Melody also shares my lust for a certain Matthew McConaughey. Here's her bit about him, and yet, about someone else as well. I'm ready for a reason to watch him on the big screen again . . .

And to let you know to be on the lookout for posts about:
- Black holes
- The draining of the pond by my parents' house
- Sunlight and breast cancer
- My take on the Slate.com response to the "death cat"
- A random bitch about why Jimmy Buffet hasn't announced for NC yet this year
- Etc.

Why I Can't Accept Any More . . .

book recommendations or loaned books or go to Borders or Barnes and Noble or surf Amazon: