Fun Fact of the Day

Banging your head against a wall uses 150 calories an hour.

Food for thought.

To Get a Little Serious

A fetus develops fingerprints at three months. We use fingerprints to identify ourselves and others and to confirm that a person is who they claim to be. If a fetus has a fingerprint, s/he has an identity.
Chew on that.

A Little Bit of Heaven

Few things can compare to listening to jazz while taking a hot shower.

In shopping for Christmas presents I had the wonderful thought that I don't have to buy anything for a "special someone" this year and it renewed my joy of being single.

There are very few sounds more beautiful than those of the heat turning on.

Official

An overheard tidbit of a conversation:
Girl: "So you're married, right? Like, it's official; you're officially married?"
Guy: "Yeah!"
And I couldn't help but imagine him responding: "No, not yet. Like, we're married, but it's still unofficial."

There is a very fine line between making things look artsy and making them look trashy. 

It's funny how you can live almost your whole life in one place, and never seem to grow tired of the beauty that surrounds you. So many people say you don't notice how beautiful it is until you've left it, but I've never seemed to be able to miss it. It fills me and I try my hardest to take it in with all my senses. However, no amount of deep breaths, long stares, focused listening, or running my fingers along all the surfaces seems to fill me enough. (I don't get enjoyment out of licking things that aren't meant to be tasted in the literal sense.) There's a part of me that yearns to become part of it. I just want to sink into the grass and float with the clouds; I wish to jump into the water and become the silky ripples; and, like a little girl, I imagine running with the wind so fast that it picks me up and I'm soaring through the sky.

But, as all things that are good, it must come to an end every once in a while. New adventures await; new discoveries draw you in. And although this beauty becomes a memory, it begins to become me and I it. The wind that picked me up and carried me to a new land stays with me like an old friend. The smell of the grass of my home never seems to fade. And the voices of the trees still whisper, "we're still here. Come home."

S'mores

Today I realized that my cat looks like a hairy pear with a tail.

Humans

What would life be like if humans interacted with each other the way dogs do?