Monday, January 24, 2011



It is still January. In fact, there is one week left.

It has been many days since I last made an entry in this blog. At least I did not let the month pass.


I couldn't tell you the day it started, but I think it was in November... I decided to make my bed before I left home for the day. You see, making my bed was not very high on my priority list then and it rarely (if ever) happened. I returned to my room later and noted the delightfully made bed. (I spent a summer being a housekeeper and learned the art of bed-making.) It was such a simple and nice touch that I decided to do it the next day. This has gone on through today. I look at my made bed now, cast with a blanket made by my grandmother, and appreciate it more. Honestly, it has had a positive effect on my room. A clean and orderly environment can make quite a difference. If you are currently a non-bed-maker, I invite you to try it for a week. Now that I have acquired this bed-making routine I will start developing another good habit.


In my first post I disclosed my goal to write in my journal, write a poem, and post on a blog every day. Luckily I have a blog for poems, so sometimes (like every day one week) writing a poem right in euphrates gets two of those done. I have written a poem for that blog every single day this month. I missed a day or two in my journal. Not entirely sure how that happened, but I am managing to stay on top of that responsibility as a whole. In fact, it is almost that magic hour that flips a page on calenders so I have to go write in my journal now! (Yes, I feel the need to always write in my journal before midnight due to the technical day change). Peace out.

Sunday, January 2, 2011



I was the last to leave the apartment during the break and it seems like I am the first to return. Still here alone as of right now. My roommate left his beta fish couple in my care. He flew home for the break; I was only driving. He did not expect me to take them with me (at least I hope not), but rather leave enough food for the ten days I would be gone. Over the ten days I thought about them a couple of times. I even joked to Nancy about finding them dead upon my return. Like I said, I was first to return (earlier this night) and what did I find? The two fish, each in a holding of brown water. The smell was as good as a well-used porta-potty. The blue beta was a lump of a carcass, laying in the bottom of the cup. The green and blue was somehow still miserably alive. Cleaning out the cup and tank was dreadful.

My current Facebook status includes "I regret to inform my roommate that I flushed one of his fish down the toilet." I figured it was the best place for the dead one to go. It was the male, which was undeniably more beautiful than the female. Clearly we humans are not crafted in like manner.

Rest in peace blue beta.


One of my New Year's resolutions was to do at least 50 push-ups each day (taking a break come the Sabbath). I figured it would do some good. I am not guilty of much physical misery ("exercise") these days and felt like that needed to change. Well, I failed to do any yesterday so I am off to a substantial start. Today is of rest. See how I feel tomorrow.

Yesterday (see preceding post) I shared about my most treasured Christmas gifts. I said, "I will start reading from each before I sleep again." Well, that did not happen. It slipped my mind. I truly will tonight though. In fact, I will place them on my pillow now. Done.

They both say "Volume 1" on them. I like that. My mother's is called "Reaching for Memories" My father's "Rocks, Cliffs, Mesas and Plateaus: A Life's Journey."

Good and night.

Saturday, January 1, 2011



This is the 23rd year I have been in. I am becoming more and more aware of the world around me. I have only seen a slice in my time. I have only made a tiny difference. The butterflies keep flapping their wings and I keep thinking. Effects.

This blog had its start last year. I left it alone for months and months. There were two posts until earlier today. Until I deleted them. I wanted something different out of this blog. I want it to be part of my life.


I have not always been a fan of New Year's resolutions. I think any given day of the year is just as good to set a goal and get your affairs in order, though perhaps none look and sound as good. Truth be told, I am taking full advantage of this New Year's Day to start anew (this blog for instance).

Mother said what I do today is indicative of what I will do for the rest for the rest of the year. Again, it is just as good a day as any, but why not take advantage of one that will forever be January 1, 2011? If it is a good enough day to raise up a whole new calendar, it ought to be a good enough day to raise up your life.

Thus, I give in to the mass In 2011... I want to write in my journal each day, write a poem each day, do at least 50 push-ups daily Monday through Saturday (the least I could do for a healthier bod), and post on at least one of my several blogs each day. I'm tempted to add "watch a movie each day" (myself and others know I want to) to that crowd, but I know it may not always be probable. As far as my cinephilia goes, I hope to increase the number of films I have seen to 1,000.

If tomorrow I wake up and think of something I want to do or make a habit of, I hope I act immediately. Because once I am there, it is still "today" and that is as good a day as any (even if it is not the first day of the year).


I remember a line from the Army's propagandous ads that would show between segments of Channel 1 News, which was really my only source of gathering reports (domestic and abroad) in middle school. To paraphrase the tough voice, "If someone were to write a book about your life, would anyone want to read it?" The question has oft led me to contemplation.

Perhaps we have a desire to read books about the people we know. For Christmas I received two bound publications, one written by my mother, the other by my father. They are memoirs from their lives. The startings of choice autobiographies. They are treasures and more valuable to me than any other gift. Actions speak louder than words... I will start reading from each before I sleep again.

Before these volumes fell into my hands I have enjoyed reading from Lewis Family Stories, a compilation of writings mainly about my father's ancestors, parents, and siblings. A story from my own life (written by mother) concludes the work.

Hundreds of millions of dollars are forfeited on single film projects all the time and yet one can get pen and paper for close to nothing. Both are mediums for telling tales and relating experiences. What was that I heard about J.K Rowling writing the beginnings of "Harry Potter" on napkin? An idea that was carefully cultivated and grew to be a series deemed worthy of adaptation into eight films costing over a billion dollars to make.

Film (or whatever vehicle you care to consider) is limited, but it is surely ever growing. However, I do not believe writing is the same. A pen and paper reach boundlessness in terms of what the holder is able to do with them. You cannot put a fence around one's imagination. The only element in the equation that is finite is our time. Ergo I want to create each and every day. I do not wish to unpack anything and everything from the boxes within my cerebrum, but I will carefully withdraw much.

I am special, you are too. I am rather strange, as are you. I am worth writing about, you are too. I am worth reading about and so are you.

Does that mean you will want to read The Tome of J.S. Lewis? To answer the question the Army asked myself and millions of other teenagers ("If someone were to write a book* about your life, would anyone want to read it?"): that is for anyone to decide. All I can do is write about my life and give them the option.

This blog is meant for me as much as anyone. Still, I aspire to let family and friends into my life some more with this undertaking.

Happy New Year.

*Clearly this is not a book, but a blog. I feel the terms are interchangeable in this case. About my life and built from words, that is what we are dealing with.