Did I just agree with Darwin?

It is said that the best time to tell someone bad news is yesterday. And, unless the world is hiding their own personal time machines that allow them to travel back to yesterday, everyone is avoiding telling someone bad news.

My question, which I send out to the void, is why do we wait to tell people bad news? It can’t be to spare anyone from the immense pain they are sure to face when we tell them… it has to be to save ourselves from our own pain. In fact, I know it is because I am very guilty of being concerned with myself in these situations.

It is very easy to see that people are selfish creatures. We do what we can for ourselves. Darwin describes it in his theory of survival of the fittest. The strongest, those who do the most for themselves, survive. The Bible talks about how we as people have wicked and selfish hearts. Even as children we are not only exposed to the selfishness of those people around us, but also we watch villains who are selfish in our Disney movies.

The classic phrase we all use as two year olds is “mine.” Mine, (“…and they call it a mine, a mine!) that word not only makes the other two year old on the playground mad when you wont give him the truck, but it also lets the world know that even at a young age we are selfish.

We try to be sympathetic, compassionate, and altruistic but many times we fail. We have our moments of true kindness, but many times our motives aren’t concerned about other people.

Don’t get me wrong though, I am not calling society heartless jerks, I am pointing out that we all fail. We try to help others and try to spare their feelings when it comes to bad news but most of the time they get hurt and so do we.

Avoid the news? Sure, that is smart let it resonate in the pit of your stomach, let your conscience eat it up, that will help. No avoiding telling someone doesn’t help anyone.

You may not believe it, but I don’t want to sound depressing. I don’t want to be one of those girls my drama describes who writes poetry about their “organs being filled with tar” I am just expressing the true disgust I have with this very unflattering characteristic I hold.

You can lie about bad news, but try living with that… try letting that person who you need to tell the bad news live without it. Try living a lie. It isn’t easy.

Until the wondrous time machine appears in society, we all have to face the best solution, which is our greatest fear… releasing the news. Sure, yesterday all of my troubles seemed so far away, but today, if I tell the news I can stop having a pit in my stomach. The Sounds may not want to hurt you, but wounds can heal with time, and time is a constant when nothing else is.

Above our selfish ways, above the pain we may feel when telling this bad news… time can be there to aid these situations.

If you made it through this laborious and depressing post, then perhaps you and I can realize that we need to just tell our bad news, stop wishing for yesterday, and realize today is the best day to try and make it better.

Grande In a Venti Cup - "The Blob"

At 11:35 am my ride picked me up and we were on our way to Starbucks. 10 minutes later I was ordering a Grande café vanilla frappachino with extra whip cream. The woman working there asked me if I wanted it in a venti cup. Sure, whatever floats your boat I was thinking, “Sure” I said.

When they called my name I pounded the rapper off of my straw and stuck it into my drink, only to find my hand being attached to a Blob of Whip cream! I didn’t know what to think of this drink, it was half coffee sure, but more importantly it was a huge Blob of whip cream that didn’t seem to dissipate, but instead just like in 1958 seemed to be taking over my drink and if I didn’t act fast might just consume me and the entire town! (Entire Starbucks.)

Just like Steve, poking it with a stick, or in my case a green Starbucks straw, only seemed to make it more active…

This ameba of whip cream made me want to throw it away and shoot it with a fire extinguisher, but seeing that it had not been I who purchased it, I began to drink the thing…

It was overly sweet, not only was the Blob mocking me, but the lady who prepared it was obviously new and overpowered the delicious legal caffeinated drug with too much vanilla. Every sip made me want to drink an ocean of water, bitter, bitter water; something with no taste that could counter this Irvin Yeaworth horror drink. The only refuge to this Blob was a delightful conversation of communism and taking over the galaxy.

Since I was 14 I have always dreamed of working at Starbucks, however you have to be 16 with a work permit from ones school, my dreams have been put on a temporary hold. But maybe, just maybe Starbucks should reconsider the age of their employees… as much as it would pain me and Anna Miller, to maybe anyone over the age of 52? That way a monstrosity of a drink can never be made for anyone again.

If that doesn’t work, perhaps the employees of Starbucks wouldn’t mind having a movie night where they could watch this movie and learn the correct ratio of whip cream to coffee? It might help many a Steve, polite cinema goers, and even one overly opinionated person such as myself.

Starbucks, in all fairness, has my favorite coffee on most days, despite the trauma forced on me today. Maybe one day a comical sequel will be made for this drink, “Beware! The Blob!” But, for now, I’ll keep my grandes, grandes and ventis, ventis…

You're Addicted to Love! (Love, Games, they are interchangeable)

Have you ever played Tetris? You know those random shapes you have to put together to make fit so that you don't die when they all add up and make one huge block? Oh yes that one, yes that one... have you ever played double Tetris? It is ADDICTING!!! I must have just played it for about an hour straight! That is an hour I could have spent reading, running in front of cars, making food, or talking to my friend (who is sitting in the same room playing the same game!)

This obsessive behavior I adopted for this last hour, constantly thinking "I have to win, I have to win, NO SERIOUSLY I have to win" is making me think of the classic Robert Palmer song "Addicted to Love." Well Rob, I might as well face it, I was addicted to Double Tetris. I wanted to get to the next level every single time, I wanted more stars, I wanted to beat my opponent every single time... but God forbid I lost... I would just try harder, and harder!

Instead of admitting defeat, instead of talking to my friend, I continued to play, and play, AND PLAY! (insert EVIL LAUGH!!)

It is this behavior that reminded me of my speech in my final round for the Rotary Speech Competition of this year, why parents need to limit the amount of time their children spend on video games... In my speech I advocated why games created alternate realities, irritable behavior, and a false sense of identity.

For double Tetris I hit the bullseye for each of these well constructed, highly persuasive points. I was in an alternate reality- the reality of the game.. thinking about the game... wanting to beat the game... needing the game, when in fact, reality and huge amounts of time passed me right by. I became irritable, or got irritated at the game. "WHY DID IT KEEP BEATING ME!" Smack talk was coming from every end of the room! "Crap, I just got stuck in a hole of crap-ness." "Grr, this sucks!" and the timeless question.. "WHY!" But finally, I took on a new identity. For every level I passed the game bestowed upon me a new title, Practitioner, Master, Specialist. The list never ended and I loved my new alias.

When my back started to hurt so bad from bending over I stopped. Only to realize that I was an idiot, no joke. This game just tricked me into playing it when the whole time I lost basically. Then after having a Matrix fight with the computer that ended with me blowing it up using 50 tons of explosives I carry on hand, I turned on the song "Addicted to Love" and began typing... with the computer I just... blew... up... Okay so I stepped away frustrated, checked my phone, THEN began typing this long rant about how games, be video, or computer will most always result in addictive behavior.

Moral of the post, learn to stop while you are ahead, or behind in my case.

*Music begins to play...

"You think you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah

it's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

you know you're gonna have to face it

you're addicted to love..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcATvu5f9vE

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

As unfortunate as it may be, this first post is about the infamous Miley Cyrus. More importantly, her video that I recently watched, "Can't Be Tamed" Huh? It seems tome that I am not the only one questioning Miley and her new "look."

Maya Angelou says, in her poem "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,"

"But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage

can seldom see through his bars of rage

his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing..."

Perhaps our not so dear Miley feels as if she is trapped inside a small, narrow cage

of 

oppression 

from the millions of tween girls who idolize her and her "Disney

image?" Who knows, all I can say is that she is doing a terrible job of imitating

Lady Gaga, Beyonce, and Ringling Brothers Circus.

Addressing another aspect of the poem, "...he opens his mouth to sing..."

Now, I am not sure if this bird is an alto, soprano, or any other kind of mobster

but I can guarantee that it has a better sound, and better consistency in terms of

songs. Seriously MIley, are you a country star? No.. a pop star? No.. What is next,

Miley Cyrus rapping with T-Pain? Oh, wait I have just been informed she did

make a rap video about why she deleted her Twitter... I follow that with who

cares? Okay Miley what is next... a new CD titled "Miley Cyrus: Polka!"

Perhaps deep down Miley is a good girl, perhaps we should find fault with

Cobra Starship for making this good girl "go bad," but perhaps maybe just maybe

Miley is trying to fit her music and self into a different demographic? My guess is

that we will never know; MIley will still be Flip Flop Miley and wont be caged

for long...