Recess Reincarnation

I'm sorry everyone. I admit it. I'm the worst blogger ever. I hope you will accept my apology and my feeble excuse that I've been busy trying to figure out every aspect of my life. Lame, I know, but true.

I have, however, accumulated several random ideas in the meantime, all of which I hope to blog about in several blog entries to come.

Random idea number one: I had this epiphany during work one day as I was getting my daily vending machine burrito, scarfing it down during my measly 15-minute break, then sitting back down in front of my computer for another several hours. Why the heck are elementary schoolers the only ones who get to have recess after lunch? Why is it that when we grow up, we still eat lunch, but then we go straight back to our desks where all the calories and fat, without any chance to be burned into energy, go straight into our thighs and guts? It doesn't make any sense at all. Who was the idiot who decided that recess is a 12-and-under activity? Give me my four-square and double dutch please!


I think some of America's obesity problem could be solved if we all just decided to reinstate recess into our daily schedules.

p.s. As I was looking for images of the fat people from Wall-E, I noticed there are tons of articles and blog entries about how offensive the movie was. What!? First of all, I thought the fat people were portrayed in a very humorous, loveable way and it was still acknowledged that they are good people. Second of all, when did gluttony become something that needs to be defended? No matter how you look at it, that is not a direction that you want to be headed, so why the offense? Sheesh.

Burruises

I have these really cool bruises down my right side.

I'd like to say that I was fighting a gang of thieves,

or that I ran in front of a car to save a child,

or that I was thrown against the craggy side of a rock during a hurricane.

But the truth is,

I was buying a vending machine burrito and a second burrito looked like it was about to fall so I was slamming my body against the machine to try to get it to fall.

Those hooks have a better grip than you'd think.

Bye Bye Birdie

It was my first experience with death.

There was no shortage of love to be given the poor chick. Dan described in detail the events that led to the adoption of a baby quail by himself and his wife.

"He was left behind by his family. He was lame and couldn't keep up." I decided it would be worth paying a visit after work to see the newest member of their family.

There was the little fuzzball, trembling in his makeshift nest, burdened by the pains of the cruel world around him. So small and fragile.

"His name is Tiger," Dan said affectionately, referring to the dark stripes running down the chick's back. Tiger was clearly in pain but energetically flailing his little wings and legs around. We passed him from hand to hand, stroking tenderly and whispering words of encouragement. Our hearts swelled with hope for the little guy's future. We all thought, optimistically, that love was enough to heal whatever pain he was going through.

I passed him to Dan and without any warning, his little head flopped to one side and his body was still. The three of us didn't want to believe it for a few seconds.

Sometimes, where love can't heal the pain, death will.

Goodbye, Tiger.