The Seed and the Nonexistent Tree

After a bike ride with a friend, I settled down with a bowl of white cheddar popcorn and a potpourri of channels to flip to. Feet up, Food Network/HGTV/Nickelodeon on; living the dream. (I eventually settled on Full House – the episode where 13-year-old D.J. gets “caught” drinking…  now I’m convinced drinking is bad.) And I don’t generally watch television, but the three 40-inch HDTVs in our suite has made it appealing as of late.

So anyway, there I am, munching on some popcorn and laughing at D.J. Tanner’s outfit. Exhilarating, I know.

Some seeds had not popped, but I mashed them with my teeth before swallowing. Ouch.

And then…

I

swallowed

one

whole.

I froze. I seriously froze and forgot all about D.J. and the beer Uncle Jesse found her holding.

For a split second, I felt fear course through me at the thought of that seed traveling down my esophagus and landing –– plunk! –– into the acidic wasteland I call my stomach.

Oh no! What if it ends up growing out of me? What will I do then? 

Seriously.

When I came to my senses, I realized that these musings were the most childish thoughts I’ve had in a long time. But the tiny seed in my stomach brought back memories of Adam and me, burying popcorn seeds in the garden, hoping to grow a popcorn tree.

We had no doubts –– plant the seeds and trees shall grow!

…except they never did. But we didn’t notice –– we had moved on by then, anyway.

I wish I could afford to have that simple, short attention span again. And I also wish the seed would actually grow in my tummy. That’d be pretty cool.

It’s still July 2008 to me

The calendar in my room says that it is still July 2008. It has taken me a whole year to build up enough guts to tap on its shoulder, come face-to-face with it and make it admit that it is wrong. I’m scared to get its reaction to this news, but it needs to face the facts. July 2008 is long gone. July 2009 is almost gone. It has been July in my room all year long, and I think it’s time to change it.

It’s a Nickelodeon magnetic calendar, okay? All I have to do is switch the days around to meet the correct days of the week and add on a couple “FRIEND’S BIRTHDAY!” and “FAMILY BIRTHDAY!” here and there to complete my work of art. I promised myself that when July 2009 was over I would change it, and here I am…a whole year later. I thought that by not switching my calendar I could trap time and keep it from moving. Now I’m ready to face the fact that I can’t. I’ve been in denial all year; it’s time to move on.

So, in a few minutes Kevin, it will no longer be July 2008 in my room anymore. Goodbye childhood. Hello, August 2009. Welcome to my Nickelodeon cartoon magnetic calendar that is meant for a 10-year-old boy. I guess I have to work on this “growing up” thing, huh?

Floating shopping lists

I honestly could not tell you the last time I viewed an episode of SpongeBob or Jimmy Neutron or Fairly Oddparents. These cartoons that used to provide me with so much laughter have been left behind in the dust of my recently busy weeks.

I don’t care. I’m fifteen years old (close to sixteen!) and I adore cartoons. I don’t think this will ever stop. There’s so much adult humor involved in these cartoons that it’s amazing that children even get enjoyment out of them.

I don’t exactly know what’s up with me lately though. Every time I have the TV remote in my possession, I always find something else to watch (which isn’t very often – since I don’t have the remote in my grasp often and I have rarely spent time watching TV lately).  I’ll see that House is on on USA or find a live concert of Styx or something and just have to watch that before I even check to see what is on on Nickelodeon.

Still, even in these weeks where I have been “deprived” of cartoonage, I have the favorite parts of those cartoons I love that still hang around with me.

SpongeBob: “Ahhhh! A FLOATING SHOPPING LIST!” (Eggs, Milk, Bread) and

Cosmo: “Here I come – Mr. Fairy Universe!”

These favorite lines EVER from my favorite cartoons make me laugh whenever I even think about them. Thank Gawd for Mr. Fairy Universe and those gosh darn floating shopping lists.

Everybody is Toast!

Thank you, Nickelodeon, for introducing the genius that is Jimmy Neutron to the world. Back before we had cable (the Stone Age), my parents purchased the Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius movie on a videotape for us kids to enjoy. I was excited to watch the movie, and one of my brothers was excited to watch the bonus music video that featured Angel Carter. “She’s so hot!” he’d say. (Note: this was before he found out that she is Aaron Carter’s little sister.)

My favorite part in the whole movie was when the toast popped out of Jimmy’s satellite and Ooblah responded with: “Hellllllllooooo, Toast! I greatly admire your ship!” I just thought that the way he welcomed the toast was comical and unforgettable. I still have not forgotten about it, hence the meaning of this blog entry.

A few months back, a commercial came out with the people in it saying: “‘Ello, Govna!” Well, instead of Govna, I have always said Toast! Every time I walk into a room, I greet everybody simply by saying a cheerful “‘Ello, Toast!” and it applies to everyone in that room. At first people questioned my randomness. They would ask, why toast? and why am I toast? I respond with: “EVERYBODY IS TOAST!!!” My family has gotten used to it. My mother and even one of my brothers has been caught saying my little Emily-ism when entering a room. My grandparents look at me funny when I say it, but then they just nod and laugh and go along with it. I have had many a Emily-ism come and go over the past few years, but I am determined that Toast shall stay.

Them: Why Toast?

Me: Why not toast?