when will it end?

I have been sick since Sunday. Misery. Troy and I went to Skyline Drive, and drove 99.9 miles to get there, drove 53 miles each way along skyline drive, and then 99.9 miles back. The view was beautiful, and totally worth the drive, but, unfortunately, the altitude change meant colder weather on the mountain, and I came down with one hell of a head-cold.

for anyone who may stumble on this blog and not know, Skyline drive is a 150 mi (169 km) road that runs through the Shenandoah national park in Virgina. The road is along the peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and stretches along US rt 81. During autumn, the view is spectacular with the color of changing leaves, and the sky is usually pretty clear during this time of year, so the view stretches out for miles. It is really interesting as you ascend the mountain slowly, to drive into the micro-climate of the top of the mountain. When we went, the valley was in complete sunshine, but the top of the mountain was cloudy and ominous. Beautiful. I think, and I may be confused, that the road has been named one of the most impressive roads in the world because it travels along the peaks of and through a range of mountains. I think I remember seeing it on the History Channel's Modern Marvels.

so that is why I am now sitting, bundled up, at my desk, and periodically sneezing all over my macbook.

being sick always reminds me of being a kid. is that strange? so, in the spirit of being sick, here is one of my favorite childhood poems by Shel Silverstein:



SICK
"I cannot go to school today"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry.
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox.
And there's one more - that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue,
It might be the instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke.
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in.
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My toes are cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There's a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is ...
What? What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is .............. Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

ampersand

While sitting in my bedroom and listening to an owl outside, I decided that the world is a giant list with no commas.

I wonder how many times a day the word "and" is uttered by human mouth. Does every language have its own variation of "and" or are there cultures that exist without the concept of the word? Is there a language in which people list one object at a time, giving each object its own sentence?

I went to the store. Frank went to the store. June went to the store with us.

I do not know about other languages, but it occurs to me that without "and" the English language would lack inclusion, and would require much longer sentences.

I went to the store. Frank went to the store with me. So did June.

Frank, June, and I went to the store.

without saying that he, she, and I went to the store, it becomes difficult to explain that the three of us went to the same store at the same time. It is possible, but needlessly difficult.

to me, the ampersand is one of the most beautifully designed characters, nay, objects ever created. so much is expressed in that single symbol, and yet most people have no idea that it has a name, a real function, or a history.

Then again, most people do not know how to speak their native language.

I have studied language in depth, and I must confess that I even have trouble speaking it at times. So many rules that are broken constantly. Of course, I am not a language purist, I understand that language must change and evolve in order to stay alive, and that 20 generations from now my language will be obsolete, but still, it is sad for one to watch such a slaughtering of something so significant as a language.


I wish that I posessesd the power to hear my language from the perspective of a non-listener.

to an American, french sounds distinct from German, which sounds distinct from Japanese, but do those distinctions hold true to other people from other linguistic backgrounds? i.e. to a french person, is German as different from Japanese as it is to me? and what does English sound like to people who do not speak it? is it as classical and beautiful as French sounds to me? or as fluid as spanish? or is it as harsh and abrupt as Russian?

which is the hardest language to learn? which is the easiest? if everyone spoke one language, would everyone get along? would there be nothing to fight over?

I suppose people would still fight.

a world with one language would be a horrid place.

the update and other ramblings

again, I must apologize to myself for not writing more often. such a vicious cycle. but enough self-deprecation, I will attempt to move onto something with a bit more substance.

I posted a blog a few months ago about a friend who was in a terrible accident on his motorcycle and was in a coma. Here is the update: I was sitting at my desk yesterday doing whatever it is that I do at my desk, when my phone rang. I was scared when said friend's name appeared on the ID, afraid that it may be bad news. I certainly did not expect to hear his voice.

apparently, in the time that has elapsed since my last news of him, he has almost fully recovered. he is home from the hospital, progressing well with his physical therapy, and is, so far, mentally sound. The biggest relief was that he sounded like himself. He paused more between words, but for the massive amount of head trauma, I am surprised that he can even talk.

he remembers nothing of the accident, and his only worry is over what caused the crash. he has a sort of guilt complex, and wants to know if it was his fault. my advice was simple: he is better off not knowing. he does not need to feel guilty over it, nor does he need the anger and resentment over knowing that someone else put him through so much.

right now, he is off of all medication, and is only taking blood thinners for a clot that is forming in his leg. he has a few mending bones and ribs, but overall, he is fine, and i am relieved. it felt so good to hear his voice. such a difference from second hand information. it is terrible to think that someone so young and with so much more life to live may have either died or live in a persistent vegetative state.

he is going back to college tomorrow. that shocks me more than anything else. he insists that, while stressful, the mental exercise will help him recover more quickly.


in other news, football is in full swing. (American football, just so there is no confusion. i love soccer, too, but football season means only one thing: football)

I'll keep this brief: i am proud of my team. The ravens have played well so far, in spite of the massive problems that have plagued the team (injuries, two incapacitated quarterbacks, and having a rookie starting QB.) If they continue to play as well as they have been playing, I have no doubt that they will be a major contender for the post season. notice I say "post season." any person saying the actual name of the big game this early in the season is an idiot, and should be ashamed.

Last Saturday night was my high school reunion. five years has gone by rather quickly, and I now feel quite old. I was not popular in high school, mostly owing to the fact that I split my high school years between two schools, and at that age, two years is not long enough to make friends and move out of the "new kid" status. The good news is that this reunion gave me the chance to speak to some people that I never would have spoken to in school. I am always amazed at the changes that a person goes through between the ages of 16 and 25. in high school, everyone believes that they have life figured out, and yet most people have no true concept of self at that age.

in other news, have I mentioned that I broke my toe recently? I feel terrible complaining of pain in my little toe, but it actually hurts. If someone had complained to me about a similar pain a month ago, I would have laughed, but the truth is that this little bone fracture is causing me more pain that I expected. and shoes? forget it! its fine to walk on, but once I step into a shoe, the pain flares up and the swelling begins. it has been almost two weeks, and I hope the pain subsides soon.

I believe that is all of the news I have for now. stay tuned for either a posting of some artwork, or opinionated commentary on the economic status of America, depending on my mood.

as a (comical) side note, the last time I was shopping in New York, I found myself eating fantastic Swiss chocolate truffles from a place near the plaza hotel on 5th ave. I plan to visit New York again within the next month or two, perhaps I will have to treat myself again. Swiss chocolate is not my favorite, but I cannot resist that smooth, flawless texture that only Swiss chocolate has.