June 26, 2012

Forget YOLO. Try SYOLOBYLIMITOL. Translation: inside.

SYOLOBYLIMITOL: Sure, you only live once but you live infinite moments inside that one life.

I know you're sick of YOLO. I am, too. But I think it's a good concept, sort of. Yes, you only live once. But that sounds so limited. That's putting the billions of Kodak-worthy, tear-jerking, awe-inspiring moments that make up our Earth experience into a tiny box labelled "Life."

I don't believe in that. I think it would take billions of boxes of varying shapes, colors and sizes to accurately sum up what we call life. Living isn't about how many times you get to do it (We get it, once) but about what happens during that time span. So don't think of "I only get one opportunity to get "life" right", but rather "I wake up every morning with a brand spanking new set of options and possibilities, and I want to take advantage of as many as I can." Make sense? Maybe I'm just rambling (wouldn't be the first time), but this thought kept me awake last night (having The Motto stuck in my head didn't help). I will cut Drake some slack on this one, because I think he gets the general concept: he also sings "Everybody dies, but not everybody lives".

Enough about Canadian rappers who used to star in my favorite (only) Canadian TV show, Degrassi, as a teen crippled by a pyscho's shooting at school. I just want to say, Drake's real name is Aubrey Graham. Seriously. He had no option but to go by something different. Aubrey is a little too ballet and not enough ghetto.


Today Michael and I took Molly to the creek, a little spot called Paradise. We brought along her little pink plastic pool and some balls and buckets (and tons of sunscreen) and had some sopping wet, blistering hot fun. It was REALLY fun when Molly pointed to the water we were playing in and said "Fish, look Mama, a fish!" The fish was indeed there, but also very dead. Disgustingly dead. Puffed and bloated and not at all like the friendly fish Molly thought it was. Anyway. We ate some watermelon and bananas and I may or may not have laid (lay?) down in the plastic pool and worked on my tan. Keep in mind that me laying in the pool makes it off limits to Molly. Not because I wouldn't allow it or anything, but because the pool is literally not big enough for the two of us.

This blog is so therapeutic for me because I don't have to bore Michael with my thoughts now (as much); I can write them on here and there is always a small chance that someone might a)agree b)laugh c)care d)decide I need to be featured in a popular magazine with a monthly column and a big paycheck.

Thanks for reading my innermost thoughts (how sad is it that Drake occupies those?).

Debra

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