Pick a Subject, Get a Poem.

Abigail Mott

It was a romantic evening. Dressed in a red coat to keep myself warm, I was walking down the streets of LoDo in Denver, with my husband. We had just wrapped up a great Italian dinner and were in an untimely holiday mood. The live music in some parts of LoDo, the festive lighting, cold winds and the energy on the street had collectively made the whole evening very 'fairy-talish,' right out of a 'happily-ever-after' love story.

Laughing after we crossed the street and considered (and later dismissed) entering Lannies Clocktower Cabaret, we came across a sign on the sidewalk. It read 'Pick a Subject, Get a Poem.' Above the sign, was a folding table, a typewriter and a young woman sitting by it. Getting a personal poem on this beautiful evening seemed like a dream. I couldn't believe that this was a serious, real offer. We approached the table to confirm, and asked the woman (Abigail Mott, as I got to know later) if we could choose ANY subject. She said 'Yes, pick a subject.'

Maybe it was the autumn. Maybe it was my red coat. Maybe it was the drive with views of the Aspen laden valleys of Colorado. Maybe it was just my excitement and impatience. I chose the subject 'Leaves.'

'Leaves' By Abigail Mott

As she typed in the subject, Abigail requested - 'One rule is that you can't read the poem as I type in.' I was happy to move a few steps back and give her her space. We waited for less than 10 minutes, although it seemed longer than that. When the poem was ready, Abigail read it out to us. It was beautiful.

Small moments like this make so many memories. I don't know if I would replay and record the events of that Saturday, as many times as I did. I don't know if I'd remember the laughter and the food, the Clocktower and our consideration of going into Lannie's Cabaret. I don't know if I'd feel like love was in the air, that evening, had we not come across this beautiful, non-commercial gesture offered on the streets of Downtown Denver.  Thank you Abigail, for adding this spark to that wonderful evening and making it unforgettable!

The Old NYAM (Not-Yet-A-Mother)

I’m 31. Well, 31 plus a few months. In a year, I’ll be 32. My first baby is definitely coming after my 32nd birthday. When s/he turns 5, I’ll definitely be over 37. I wish at 37 I could just sip on wine by the poolside, but I know that’s not happening. I know my fun outings will likely be in an ‘amusement’ park, where I’d be acting like I’m enjoying myself. I hope I don’t go crazy by 40. Now why am I talking about amusement parks and going crazy? Here’s why.

Recently I’ve had my in-laws visit us and they have a cute little 18 month old daughter. We took them to Universal Studios and showed them around. We went on rides, turn by turn, in twos, so  that one couple could take care of the baby while the other went on the ride. 
In mid July, Universal Studios was cooler than expected, but still had us perspiring and parched. And Tired. 
Every time I saw the baby's mother, I felt sorry to see how tired she was, for the baby wanted all her attention and obviously needed to have her diaper changed every few hours; and fed every few hours; and if bored, then carried in each of our arms; and if too tired of being seated in the stroller, then left free in the park - with one of us running behind her and the other unsuccessfully trying to fit into the comfort of the stroller.

And every time we switched for rides, the baby wanted to be with the ones who were going. So while she cried relentlessly when 2 of us walked away, the other 2 had to distract her, hoping she forgets about the ones that are going and stops crying (which she did, every time they disappeared).

So you see, my conclusion is that amusement parks make babies want ALL the energy they know they can possibly get out of people. Currently, at 31, I have the energy, but at 37, I will have to dig it out of my body. And not just energy, even attention will need to be dug out of my soul. For if I don’t, my short attention span will definitely earn me the ‘careless mother’ tag. Sigh! But let’s keep this discussion for another time.

Back to that day, in my head, all I could think of was: 
‘What will I do when I get a baby? I will be too old and never have the energy to bring my baby to Disneyland and Universal Studios and all those parent killing amusement parks!!’ ... Amusement parks made of the man, by the man and for the man. By man, I mean the MALE in particular. To be honest, I have done little research into who made the first amusement park, yet, without any doubt I can say it was definitely a male of our species. Because everybody knows, they have always been this way. They do stuff, we regret. 

But I’m not just complaining. I have a solution. I mean, amusement parks are good and all that, but they really need to act responsibly. There’s just too much pressure on parents and non-parents to take their kids out at present and in future to an amusement park. I, as a non-parent, feel the pressure as you can see. 
So, the simplest solution is to set a minimum entry age of...um...18 at the amusement park. Now, was that too hard to think of? No! I mean, I came up with it just now, in less than a second. And I hope everybody reading this post passes it on for others to read, or starts some sort of a campaign or petition asking for such a rule to be enforced.

And when the authorities ask "Why?" we’re making such demands, here are some of the reasons I came up with, quickly. (I’m sure you can come up with more, it’s such a common sense thing!)

• At 18, kids can visit amusement parks all by themselves without parents running behind them or cleaning their poop or wishing they had 5 clones.
• And trust me, without this rule, parents will soon have to make clones that look after their kids, so that they can get some time to breathe.
• Clones will make parks even more crowded than they already are.
• Making clones is not as economical an idea as making ‘18+ Only’ sign boards at the entrance of amusement parks.
• AND people like me who are thinking about having a baby, will just do it if the rule is enforced. We will feel less discouraged and worried about our lives and energy levels for the next 18-20 years.

The last reason, if you paid any attention, is the most important and significant of all. Because I know I’m not the only one out there, with these fears. There are many more like me. And although I will still have an offspring of my own, I know there are many smarter and stronger women who will not do that unless this rule is passed. And little by little, one day, humanity will come to an end. All because amusement parks do not have a minimum age restriction. Too big a price to pay for, right?

Well. I’m too tired now. I feel rested after expressing my honest opinions on amusement parks and the need for a minimum entry age, but I’m tired after thinking and typing so much. I can’t be blamed. I’m 31. I’m getting old. You can’t expect me to keep typing while you sit and relax and read and maybe even laugh at me. The writer-tiring internet made by the man for the man and of the man has to do something for people like us who have so much to write but are going to start a family after age 32 and are therefore obviously tired, even just by the thought of it.

Origami : The $1 shirt

'A skill a day.' Something I often think about. Wondering if it's possible... and after all those conversations in my head, concluding with a 'Yes.'

So what kind of skills? Useful? Yes, maybe. Even if not-so-useful, it's still 365 new things learnt in a year, no? (Yeah, that was another part of the conversation that took place in my head.)

And then, with so much time on hand and such few fun things to do, I decided Origami was the right skill to try. Not like I mastered it, but hey, this does look super-cool. ---------------->

Now don't go thinking that I created it. No. (I wish I was that smart) But I searched for some interesting origami to try my hand at and came across a youtube tutorial which was very easy to follow. I can't find the link to the one I used but here's a similar tutorial you can follow to make this cute $1 shirt. Click HERE to go to the tutorial.

It takes less than 10 minutes and Yayyy, you have added to your skills too ;)

Live each day like it's your last first !!

This morning, I decided to get my hands dirty and pushed myself to clean the kitchen... while scrubbing the stove top, many thoughts sprouted and for some reason, one stayed. These thoughts came up probably because of the mundane task that I was busy taking care of.

Maybe another part of me was reminding me, judging me and arguing with me. It's my preachy half... she kept whispering - "Live each day like it's your last," and I felt angry for being judged at that moment. In my defense, I told Her that if I really had to live each day like it's my last, I would end up becoming so useless and annoying to the people around me.

Agreed, I would never waste time doing laundry, keeping my home clean or cooking healthy food for my family. But seriously, will people ever want to live around my dirty surroundings and stinky clothes? And, on a serious note, why the hell would I save any money at all? Why would I exercise?? I'm okay with dying with those few extra pounds on me. If today really was the last day of my life, I'd keep my husband at home. Surely he can skip work on the day his wife is about to die?

On the last day of my life, I'd splurge, donate, and for the last time, meet a lot of people by unexpectedly showing up at their doorstep (or on their phone screen), demanding their time. My friends' and family's facebook pages would be filled with annoying PDA and for this one day, I would be labelled 'Spammer' by all my contacts on Whatsapp.
On the last day of my life, everyone would have to handle my nostalgic self and like it or not, smile and keep me happy. 

''Okay!!'' 

I heard my preachy half tell me. 

''Go ahead and do the laundry next. Live each day like it's your first. What you do today, will determine what you do the next day.'' 

And it was at this moment that I dropped the scrubber into the sink, took off my gloves, marched into the living room and got comfortable on my recliner, TV remote in hand.

"Well...in that case, I have many more days to do purposeful stuff. Today is just the first...I'd rather relax than do laundry," I said.

My preachy half stared at me, sighed - and this time, joined me on the couch. 

''I'll take care of you tomorrow, today is just the first.'' she said.