Through The Looking Glass

"See the world through the eyes of a creative contributor who loves to illustrate the small
adventures that life creates. My hope is to put down in words and portraits especially those things that are apparent yet not always on parchment. Today unique thoughts, accounts, illustrations, and experiences may not remain distinctive but satisfaction can still be derived from the recognizable sentiment of them and from the faithful bonds they create."

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

What Lies Beneath

No, I am neither referring to the movie nor narrating the commonly known topic of inner beauty versus outer beauty. Fortunately the story will unravel as I begin.

The alarm rang much earlier but I crawled out of bed only by 8am which is premature for me. I wanted to escape from the leaky ceiling which had occurred just a few days before – and that is a story in itself. After finding a pleasing spot by the window at by husband’s school, I unpacked my laptop only to find the cords missing. My husband had packed them in his bag yesterday and my five year old computer was not going to power on without it.

Suddenly I had three hours to exhaust and an idea dawned on me. Why not give this ancient computer a cleaning! Slowly I lifted off the keys, one section at a time. There were frequent trips to the coffee water heater next door. Drenched white entertainment napkins served as wet wipes.

What lay beneath was revealing. I could see rainbow colored fuzzies wrapped under the longer “Backspace,” “Enter,” and “Caps Lock” keys. And then there were the extra fine, short hairs scattered everywhere. I knew they couldn’t be mine but they looked suspiciously familiar. Aha! I thought. It had to be the deserted locks of the only man I knew in close proximity.

My continued investigation found further discovery. One eyeball looking yellow spot near the “4” drew my attention and I saw some dingy yellow, paint-like coloring towards the “H,” undeniably both symptoms of the soupy masala maggi noodles, a favorite evening meal a few years ago. The last few extraordinary findings soon brought my project to a close.

Placing the keys back took more time and more care than I had imagined. Returning the keys to their original positions would have been difficult, and my memory would have failed me, had I not cleverly created a false keyboard with the separate keys on the table beside me. Unfortunately there were a few casualties. The black connector behind the “5(%)” key got damaged, the long space bar needed juggling, and then I broke in two the helpless “Y” which left the keyboard with a toothless, black grin.

Had I a needle, some Q-tips, and a packet of alcohol swabs, I knew I could have done a better job but I am glad I shamelessly peeked. Will you?

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Thoughts Before Stage One Sleep

Sometimes when the world is quieting down, although that is minimally the case in a city, but nevertheless darkness falls, and stars may or may not be visible, my mind begins its thought process. It is at this time when I most wish I could hook up a printer to my brain so I could remember all things vividly the next day, and perhaps jot down those beautiful, clear, almost innovative thoughts. At this point I don't think I have even reached what is called the Stage One of sleep, otherwise known as the light stage of sleep.

I know I am not yet in that stage because I have barely laid down, found the most comfortable position, and have only just closed my eyes. Not more than a few seconds later, my mind whirs with constant thought. In this pre-stage, inventions emerge and thoughts become as clear as the crystal glass I might have washed with dish detergent. Ideas are established and I wish I could get out of bed, grab a pen and paper, and write these delicious concepts down. However, my body, encased in blankets, having warmed a spot in the bed, does not wish for me to interrupt the coziness.

Last night my mind thought of creating a blog sheathed with imagination and today I followed through and exceeded my own expectation, for when morning comes, only my dreams remain, and not those remarkable pre-staged thoughts...

Noodles Anytime...

Eating a certain type of Japanese style chowmein noodles has filled me with disillusion. Was it the craving for something more satisfying? Perhaps gratification came at the expense of following the instructions which I didn't do. The ingredients, containing at least one word that says, "monosodium glutamate," scared me into using just 1/4 of the packet. Then I saw that at the end one was to sprinkle the noodles with dried seaweed. Darn! I thought to myself. Just yesterday my husband and I had looked at some sushi-making seaweed and we didn't buy any.

I opened the smaller seasoning packet and as the hard noodles began to dance like streamers in the wind, I poured out what was to my dismay, the seaweed! I thought this small packet was surely the dehydrated vegetables that come with other kinds of noodles but as it emptied into the boiling water, I quickly became aware of the soft, green, mossy cluster appearing melancholy at having been forced to flavor the noodles too soon. But the noodles quickly cooked, perhaps a reason why so many students use it for its 'hit the spot' action.

After a few bites, thoughts of the MSG in the flavor-less noodles swam before my eyes. I proceeded to throw the rest of the noodles down the kitchen drain. Subsequently I washed the bowl thoroughly and opened a new packet of Honey Oats and Flakes. What could sound better than some good breakfast food full of minerals. As my eyes happily skimmed the back, one ingredient suddenly stood out: "high fructose corn syrup." Oh great! I thought. One cannot escape from the setbacks of the spoon to mouth, called food!