Fingerprints on My Heart

I decided I needed to write a poem. We've been reading a lot of sonnets in Brit Lit right now, and though this is no sonnet, I wanted to write a poem. It was a rush of inspiration, and a bit different than what I usually write. Still, I just wrote it, and I like it. So, I thought I'd post it and see what you guys think. Criticism is welcome but as Mark Twain said, only criticism I like. Haha! No, I'm just kidding. Any feedback is welcome.

Fingerprints on My Heart

I thought I had to do it;
It was the only way.
So, I went home,
And opened my chest.
I took my heart out,
And attached it to my sleeve.

I showed it to everyone;
I let everyone up to see.
I ask them if they'd like to hold it.
Most say no: they think I'm crazy.
A few are surprised
But hold out their hands.

I'm wary of the boys.
I give them the same offer as the girls,
But a different connotation is behind it:
More hoops to jump through,
More precautions,
More necessary boundaries.

I let the girls keep it for as long as they like.
I'm always happy
When a girl is holding it:
Makes me feel special.
It's hard to hold a heart for long.
Your hands can start to shake.

It went fine for awhile.
They shared my heart equally
And some I preferred to hold it over others.
Still, I never put it back inside.
I thought they liked it too much.
Why didn't everyone do this?

Then I found out.
Someone didn't want it anymore.
I offered it to a usual yes,
And got a no instead,
A squeamish look.
What?

Then another.
More shied away.
The novelty was gone.
More work than fun.
Even the yeses
Were for shorter periods.

Maybe you should put it back in,
They said to me.
The ones that had turned to nos.
That's not how it's done.
It's not safe either,
Was their sheer excuse.

Was it really that way?
I looked at my heart,
There like a banner to the world.
Had I not achieved a difficult state?
Had I not shown them all me?
Had I not done the bravest thing?

Suddenly, pain started.
I looked back at my heart.
What were those?
Smudges? Dark areas?
Over the flawed skin?
The pain centered from there.

I knew what bruises were,
Dime sized, oblong shapes,
All over.
When had these come?
When had the pain started?
How could I not have seen this?

Now, everywhere I went,
I received more.
It was because my heart was
Too far out, too vulnerable.
The yeses began to talk like the nos,
Encouraging me to replace my heart.

Hide it, they said.
Keep it safe,
Were their friendly words.
I agreed.
Maybe it was time.
Yes, I would do it.

It was hard,
But I took my heart down.
I took a deep breath
And went to put it in.
Panic like water.
The scar was gone.

Without the guide map of removal,
Replacement is impossible.
I'm lost. Now what?
I can't put it in.
I don't know how.
I don't remember

Tears. My heart hurts.
I can't hold it in my hands anymore,
It's too sore from the bruises.
From the nos that didn't
Treat it gently.
It is a heart after all!

I half wish I could sever it completely.
But of course,
That's just as impossible as replacement.
There's only one choice left.
With a sniff,
I put it back on my shoulder.

It still sits there,
Hanging limper than before. Still sore.
It will always be sore.
The bruises can't seem to disappear.
They held it too long.
They left their mark well.

I'm marked now.
And no one wants
To hold a damaged heart.
Only a few of the truest
Still say yes to holding on.
I'm now wary of more than just boys.

I hope the skin,
The damaged, overlapping skin
Can grow back.
I hope the scar will
Magically appear
And I can put my heart back where it belongs.

But sometimes I wonder,
Was it really ever inside?
I can't remember that far back.
Was I born abnormal?
The most vital piece of life
Born to the most defenseless place?

I'm still looking for yeses.
Though, I'm more cautious than before.
I try to see a word ahead
In any person's eyes.
A yes?
Or a no?

If it seems like a yes,
It has to be permanent.
I don't always judge right.
I have more bruises than before.
More marks of all the mistakes.
More identification of who finally said no.

Regrouping

Hey guys! I missed the last two Terrifical Tuesday posts. I just haven't been on here lately or thinking about it. So, here's a picture for today. I thought it was really cute. Hope your day is pretty!

The Excellent Emperor

The movie, Emperor, hit theaters on Friday but in limited release. Only four theaters are showing it right now in theaters close to me. For those of you who haven't heard of it, it's a film documenting the 10 day struggle of General Fellers to decide whether the Japanese emperor Hirohito should have been charged with war crimes after World War II. 

Dad, Kathryn, and I went to watch it this afternoon after church and lunch. I thought the movie was excellent. It was definitely a dialogue driven movie, which is usually not my style. It's Kathryn's. However, she was bored about half way through while I was riveted to the screen. Honestly, I thought it was captivating. Mattew Fox was polarizing as Fellers. I don't profess to be a great judge of acting, but I found him so real on camera. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the pent-up devastation, the "doing his job when he didn't want to," and the relief and acceptance of several things. 

There were multiple flashbacks in the movie, and while I found one a bit lengthy, they all served a purpose and added layers to the movie. The color of the movie was intriguing and there were certain camera angles that I found different and refreshing. I know it sounds weird for me to be talking about all of this, but I noticed things like that occasionally as I did in this movie. 

It wasn't a funny movie, or even a movie with "great lines," but it was a solid, and as far as I could tell, fairly accurate portrayal of some events during that time. I was thoroughly intrigued and look forward to watching it again. 

Avenging Terrifical Tuesday!

I don't know how people make these connections. :)

Chicken Pot Pies!

I'm not extremely adventurous with my food, but occasionally I get a kick to try a new recipe. Sometimes that recipe sounds really strange, and sometimes it's safer. Still, it's a new recipe. Well, with Mom going out of town, I decided the aspect of having to cook dinner would be the perfect opportunity to try a recipe I'm ripped from a magazine. 

They're called Mini Chicken Potpies. Not super out there, but still something new. I asked Mom what she thought, and she reminded me that Dad doesn't like pot pies. (I had already remembered on my own, however, and decided to make it anyway. Haha!) 

Tuesday turned out to be the day to make them. I purposefully avoided telling Dad about it until he specifically asked, though. ;) I had to make a run to the grocery store for turkey and cheese, so I popped into his office. Just as I was about to close the door, he asked, "What's for dinner?" The conversation is relaid below.

M: "...Chicken Potpies."

D: *not a pleasant face* "I don't like chicken pot pies."

M: "I know it's not your favorite, but it's a new recipe, and we're going to try it."

D: "I don't like peas!"

M: "I know; neither do I. I'm not going to put any in."

D: "Does it have carrots?"

M: "Yes."

D: "I'm not a big fan of carrots."

M: "We're going to try it anyway. If it turns out horrible, there are eggs."

D: "And pizza! Hahaha!"

     Yes, it was rather funny, but I shall jump you to the actual cooking part. I failed to read the recipe early on in the day to find that the frozen peas with carrots and onions had to be thawed. So, I had to take the pan off the heat and defrost vegetables. Since I was only using part of the onions, I dumped them into the same dish with the peas and carrots to thaw. (Note: not a good idea) They came out all nicely thawed, but there was a problem. They were all mixed up...I hadn't thought it out well. I then began to separate every single pea out of that vegetable mix. Pick. Pick. Pick. Carrots and Onions went to one side, peas to the other. Pick. Pick. Pick. When they were all out, I realized that the onions had to go into the pan long before the carrots...I then began to separate every single onion out of the carrots. Pick. Pick. Pick. Haha! Let me just say that this part of the prep was No Fun! Eventually though, it all picked up and I was "a-flyin'." It was about this time that Dad came downstairs and looked in at what I was making. "Oh," he said, "you're making it from scratch." :D 

     It was fun to be making real food. Melting tablespoons of butter. Stirring flour and stock into carrots, onions, and chicken. Having to flavor--which I need major work on--and making the crust without a 'pastry blender' which is what the recipe called for. I used my quick thinking skills from watching Food Network and pulled out a fork to mash the butter in, and then I just used my hands. I was pretty sure the crust was going to come out raw or heavy or nasty or just bad, but I reminded myself we could always pull it off after it had cooked. So, I took out ploops of dough, splayed them out, and gingerly placed them on top of the filling in the ramekins. I felt like a real chef! (Note: that was about to change)

     The recipe called for the tops of the crust to be brushed with egg and water. I got a bowl of water and pulled out the egg. I will interject in my own story right here to say that I was slightly stressed from everything before hand. I might have felt like a real chef, but I was still nervous about the whole thing coming out. And all that picking peas stuff had really gotten to me. Also, it was seven o'clock at night...and they had to bake for 25 minutes. Forgot to mention that earlier. Haha! Anyway, so I was stressed and rushing...and holding an egg. I had the bowl of water and I cracked that egg...dropping the whole thing onto the counter. I cracked it on the bowl, but it gushed onto the counter, oozing around the scissors and to be honest, it kind of freaked me out. My eyes got huge, and I probably uttered some kind of high squeak. I didn't know what to do. Had anyone ever broken an egg over the counter? 

     Keeping in mind it was 7 and they had to bake for a half hour, I decided to muscle through and leave the shifting mass where it jiggled. I cracked a new egg, carefully into the bowl, brushed the tops of the dough, and sent them in to the oven to die. With them in, I went to cleaning up and left the egg till the end. I did spray the ENTIRE counter down with 409 stuff to ensure no one got salmonella poising. 

     They were done at exactly 25 minutes, and they smelled excellent. I got one, Dad got two, and since I didn't have a side, I got out the pita chips we had. Then, we sat down to watch Ever After. (Yes, I got Dad to watch a sappy chick flick--and he enjoyed it, too! :D )

I was too hurried to get them into the oven that I didn't take a picture before. This is just having come out of the oven. 

The finished product with a little bubbly, crusty things on the sides. :D

So, the verdict? EXCELLENT!!! They were so good! The filling was smooth, the flavor was so...just good, like really good. The crust was good and added a nice change in texture. I could have flavored it a bit stronger with salt and pepper, but it was good. Dad's opinion? Few times have I ever heard him rave about food like he did that recipe. His ramekins were practically licked clean, both of them. :D It made me really happy. It's a really strange sensation, that huge feeling of pleasure in making food for people and having them be truly satisfied. Dad wants me to make it again soon. :D I think I have him converted...at least to this recipe. Haha!

Tonight, chili for dinner.

We're heading in One Direction

I'm not sure if anyone else will think this is as funny as I do. Maybe it's not even that funny. But I laughed quite a bit when I saw this. Happy Terrifical Tuesday!  

Oscars 2013!!!

Roll out the red carpet! The stars are coming! Yes, it was Oscars day yesterday, and as Kathryn and I make a great to-do over the whole thing, I wanted to write a blog post about it.

I did not like the host. I don't know if it's some kind of curse to all hosts at the Oscars..but none of them are good. Now, some are vastly better than others, but aside from Anne Hathaway and James Franco who were probably the worst ever!, I think this guy was next. He was crude; his jokes were lame. He was booed several times. And after the opening, he never really did anything to "host." I was very disappointed. I was kind of excited to see Captain Kirk...but it was slightly sad, actually.

Also, since this was the 85th Oscars and they made a big hype about having a special thing about movie music, I expected some really cool stuff. Some old footage, and I was hoping for one huge dance number weaving together tons of movie music. Alas, there was hardly any. You could hear snipits of classic songs throughout the night, but nothing very grand. However, I did feel that they could not have picked a better song for the In Memoriam video than the theme from Out of Africa.

Oh, and we cannot forget the lovely dance between Charlize Theron and Channing Tatum near the beginning. I thought it was really cool, and they were both excellent--extremely graceful.

But why do we stall? Everybody's favorite part--or at least mine--is seeing what everyone is wearing and playing the best dressed game. Kathryn and I pick one guy and one girl for best dressed and sometimes a worst dressed person will get thrown in.

*Worst dressed this year was Helena Bonham Carter. I only saw her in the performance of the Les Mis cast, but whatever she was wearing...was not Oscar worthy. (But I've just got to add, what *was* Anne Hathaway actually wearing?)

*Best dressed guy is often a difficult category. Guys don't have a ton to work with at the Oscars so the race is usually tight. This year was no different, and surprisingly, Kathryn and I disagreed on our final guys choice. (We usually end up picking the same guy.) While her pick--Channing Tatum--was in the running, in the end I gave the award to Chris Evans. His look was clean, classy, snappy, and simple. And unlike some who possibly lost due to their unruly beards, his facial hair is at the proper proportions for his face and the look.

*While we're all excited to see the guys all spiffed up, it's the girls who captivate us. You're always looking for the stunning one to take your breath away, and the hideous dress to make you laugh outright. Well, coming in as best dressed girl of the night, Jennifer Lawrence is clearly stunning enough to take away one's breath. Her hair was simple but tidy, her jewels balanced, and the dress...*sigh* absolutely gorgeous! It was a princess dress, a ballgown worthy of a pumpkin coach. She was absolutely beautiful, and I'm so glad she got the Oscar for best actress!

And, that's a wrap! See you all next year!