Breakfast

When the toast is burned,

and the milk is turned,

and Cap’t Crunch is wavin’ farewell…

Newsboys  - Breakfast

Well, I won’t have to worry much about if milk is turned, or if Cap’t Crunch is wavin’ farewell.  I wouldn’t be too pleased to have burnt toast though.  All the same, I have two choices for breakfast each morning now.  Some of those days involve toast.  None of those days involve Cap’t Crunch or, since I’m one of those rare people who enjoy cereal without milk, milk.  My breakfasts now will involve a lot of eggs and fruit.  No more eggs going bad for me.

I’m really looking forward to it.  I’ve already enjoyed it.  This morning I was able to choose between oatmeal with fruit or pancakes with syrup.  I chose to have oatmeal with slices of banana in it.  I wasn’t in the mood to stand over a skillet to make a stack of pancakes.  Tomorrow I get to choose between cereal and buttered toast and mixed fruit.  I’ll decide tomorrow which I’d like.

Its not a very demanding menu that I’ve been given.  I still get to choose a bit.  I can choose which fruit or which cereal or which muffin I’d like to eat sometimes.  But then I also have Sunday to eat whatever I’d like for breakfast.  Perhaps even doughnuts at church.

I like that I’ll be eating fruit and eggs for breakfast.  I am in the habit of eating breakfast, so eating in the morning won’t be a problem at all.  I’ve normally been grabbing cereal, granola bars, oatmeal.. whatever is quick and easy at the moment.  This is a bit more planned and therefore will be easier to eat a bit healthier in the mornings.  Fruit and protein will be good for me in the mornings too, not just as snacks (fruit) and lunch/dinner (protein).

Ideas and Chocolate

Las cosas claras y el chocolate espeso.*

Spanish proverb

I try to put my ideas into words.  I try to put my thoughts into words.  I feel like I fail every time.  I can’t ever put my exact thought into a word, at least not in any word I know.  I can never match the English words to the mess that is created in my head.  The thoughts themselves are rarely words.  Sometimes sounds or shapes or colors.  Sometimes the mix of the three.  I get words too, but the more complex the thought the less of an idea I get in words.

I suppose a lot of my thoughts are just feelings too.  Good feelings or bad feelings.  And these feelings are even harder to identify than words.  I know the difference between anger and sadness and joy.  Knowing what I’m feeling them and connecting them to the correct word is what’s difficult.

I’m working on making my ideas and thoughts clearer.  My ideas are easier to put into words.  They generally start as words.  Their consistency and brevity are often not quite as nice as I would have liked, but they tend to be clear.

When words fail and the sky falls, there is chocolate.  Chocolate is always good.  Chocolate that melts in ones mouth is best.  I can always have chocolate.  Well, almost always.  If there isn’t chocolate, I can always go to the store and get some.

*Ideas should be clear and chocolate thick.

Gender Roles

What are little boys made of?

Snips and snails

And puppy dog tails.

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice

And everything nice.

What Are Little Boys Made Of?

Gender roles have always confused me.  Well, confused may not be quite the word.  Why must we have a separate code of standards for girls and boys?  Why are girls expected to like pink and purple, and boys expected to like blue and green?  Why are girls expected to play with dolls and boys with trains?  Why can’t girls like green and boys play with dolls?

I have never been so irritated as when a parent dropped off her son and promptly told him to put down the baby doll another child had handed him because it was a girl’s toy and he was a boy.  Are we really still in a day and age where we have to identify what a person may or may not do based on a gender?

I was able to console the girl who had shared very well, something we encourage, and tell her that the boy just didn’t want to play dolls with her at the moment.  I suggested that another girl who also had a doll in her hand may want to play with her.  I later saw the little boy wandering towards the play kitchen we have.  It is sad that this boy’s interests will likely be smothered and replaced by things his mother finds suitable for boys.

I can’t say that as adults we’re any better.  Women generally make less money in the same job position.  Women are still thought of as needing help to lift anything remotely heavy.  Women are thought of as useless in a “manly” task such as anything with computers or automobiles.  And yet we claim that women have the same freedoms that men have?  What makes this any different than not allowing a little boy to play with a doll?

Will we ever have equality?  Will men ever admit publically that women can be better than them at something that doesn’t involve cooking, cleaning, or child care?  Will we ever come to a day where girls can play with trains and boys can play with dolls and no one, not one single person, will judge either party?

Rules

No man is above the law and no man is below it; nor do we ask any man's permission when we ask him to obey it. Obedience to the law is demanded as a right; not asked as a favor.
Theodore Roosevelt

I like rules.  I always have liked rules.  I like that they bring order to things.  I like that they’re a clear example of what is expected of me.  I’ve always enjoyed knowing that others around me will follow the rules.  Until they don’t.

Rules of the road are rather clear.  Everyone in the country must pass a state test over these rules before they are given a drivers license.  A few examples of such rules are drive on the road, stop at a red light, and don’t drink while driving.  Unfortunately, not every person believes that these rules apply to them.  Hence, until they don’t.

Driving to work tonight, the same car almost made me wreck three separate times.  For this, I am baffled.  I am stopped at a red light, and a car drives around me, off the road, to pull ahead of me.  The driver motions to the left with his thumb out the window, pointing either at me, or at the direction he (and I) plan to turn.  To which he is indicating, I’m not completely sure.  I am pulled to the left side of the lane to give a car room to turn right at the intersection, as it is allowed for a car to turn right on a red light.  This is where I first thought the truck was going.

While he pulled back onto the road, I had to reverse my car in order to keep him from hitting my front right side.

When the light turned green, he pulled ahead and I pulled around him because he was going below the speed limit and I wanted to go faster.  He didn’t appreciate this.

While driving on the road, he swerved around me and cut back to pass me; I had to slam on the breaks in order to keep him from hitting my front left side.

He apparently really didn’t appreciate that I passed him.

After he pulled in front of me, he proceeded to slam on breaks and come to an almost complete stop in front of me.  I slammed on the breaks and veered into a right turn lane to avoid rear-ending the truck, to take a different route to work, and to avoid further conflict with this truck.

As I pulled past him in the turning lane, I glanced out my window to get a look at this driver.  In one hand he held a cigarette and a beer bottle, opened.  In the other, he held a cell phone to his ear.  I do not know which hand was holding the wheel, only that he also had two passengers, one in the front passenger seat and one unbuckled in the back seat.

I like rules.  I like it when I follow rules.  I like it when others around me follow the rules.  Until they don’t.  I do not appreciate it when I am forced, three times, to avoid a wreck in my car by the same person’s stupidity and irresponsibility.  I would have loved to call local law enforcement to have these rules enforced, however by the time local law enforcement would have arrived, the truck would have been long gone.

Puppy

Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring - it was peace.

Milton Kundera

When I was growing up, like most boys, I had a dog.  She was a great dog for a little boy.  She was playful and always ready to run.  She was loyal and always came when she was called.  She was obedient and loved being petted.  I envied her sometimes.  All she had to do was eat and sleep.  She had no true responsibilities.  She didn’t have chores or have to go to school.  She didn’t have homework or bedtime.  She was always happy, greeting me with her tail wagging and always itching to be petted.  Oh, how I envied her.

Other than just the simplicity of a dog’s life, I also envied the pack.  I envied knowing that there was one person in charge, and that was all that mattered.  Growing up, there were many people in charge.  I had two parents.  I had four grandparents.  I had teachers and other adults and ministers.  Anyone who was older than me was someone I had to listen to.  The hardest part?  None of these older people agreed on anything!  I was constantly, and still am, altering my behavior based on who is around and who is watching me.  I wanted an alpha.  I wanted a single solitary person who I could defer to.

I enjoy being a puppy.  I enjoy hearing the simple commands, “sit”, “down”, or “bark”.  I really like hearing “good boy”.  I feel really happy when I’m a puppy.  I can shed off the worries or stresses of the day along with my human skin.  I can run around in circles and chase a ball or beg for pieces of a cookie or silly things like that.  I’m not worried about looking silly.  I don’t feel foolish.  I’m grinning ear to ear wanting to be petted or have my ears scratched.

There are still days I want to be a puppy.  To give up what it means to be human and settle into four paws and fur.  I’d like for my only concerns to be pleasing my owner, knowing that everything else would be taken care of.  It’s not realistic though.  I still need a job.  I still need to pay my bills.  I still need to stand on two feet and wear clothes.  I still need to be human.