i just paid fees to not pay fees...and other reasons usbank sucks

A Poem

It all started in the city
no Wells Fargo, what a pity

A new account, a check returned
the wrong address, first time I was burned

Time goes by after the cry,
but then off to Peru I did fly

For overseas it is the best rate,
so again I buy, what a mistake

Now a balance I start to pay,
I did forget they have their own way

To lower the credit, I thought it wise,
but their sudden new rates I do despise

Moving, new jobs, taxes and snow,
and to them most all my money does go

A stolen wallet and a phone call
with their service, I've hit a wall

The first fee hits which is unreal,
so I make a huge payment to not have to deal

I'm in the clear until my worst fear,
a last minute switch,
fees they said they'd ditch

The online payment does go through,
it's supposed to be one, but they took two

The money they give back, but it comes at a cost,
What am I supposed to do, I'm at a loss

I call and I hold and I call and I hold
as fees pile up, this is getting old

They do not respond, they do not care,
they just want my money, at least a good share

I finally make contact, to a person I speak,
and that's where we come to the fees for no fees

Once this is over, once I am poor,
for me usbank will exist no more.

The End

happy fireworks day

It seems, from my vantage point, that it is easy to wake up on the fourth of July and think, "Yay! Today I am going to go to a parade, a barbecue and a fireworks show." Those things are all fun and fantastic and I have great memories of them. However, over the last several years, my desire to honor the true history of our holidays has grown. A couple years ago, I decided to read the Declaration of Independence every year on the fourth, consider the time when it was written and try to learn something new. It is amazing to ponder upon the possible trouble the men who signed the document were placing themselves in for their declaration and acussations thrust upon the King.
Last year, I read through one of the responses Britain had to the declaration, in which the statement of equality and seemingly hypocritical existence of slavery was questioned. It was truly interesting. This year, I read a letter that John Adams had written to his wife on July 3, 1776:
"This Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with Pomp and Parade, with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more. You will think me transported with Enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not."

Michael Jackson died...lets move on

So, obviously the whole world is in a frenzy right now because Michael Jackson died. However, I have felt torn and troubled while wading through the thoughts in my mind about this, continually coming across people shaking their heads and proclaiming what a tragedy it is.
I cannot help but ask...what is the tragedy? What do people mean when they say that? What truly makes this such a huge event? I ask those questions not void of emotion, but with an honest heart. Don't think I'm a hater. I am not. I understand that Michael Jackson was an undeniable talent. I remember watching his videos on MTV and trying to learn the dances. (for those of you who may not know, MTV used to actually show music videos...what a concept, eh?) I get that he had a huge impact on music and racial boundaries in entertainment. I also mean no disrespect to his family and friends, who I am sure are going through a hard time now.

But seriously people...enough! I am annoyed. Actually, I felt annoyed from the beginning as I watched people crowd around the hospital where he had been taken. All I could think was, "Oh God, some person is going to die because they wont be able to get into the hospital through the crowds to get treatment." Thankfully I don't think that happened. Michael Jackson was called the "king of pop", and it appears we are treating him as royalty. He possibly and assuredly did some questionable and horrible things. Why are people so willing to turn a blind eye to that and lift him up? It is actually quite a powerful picture of forgiveness, but disturbing as well. I don't know why he did the things he did because he was not my friend, but I do know he died a talented but very troubled middle-aged man who lived a life in the spotlight, constantly tried to appease his perfectionism, probably wanted to change the world and was most likely hooked on drugs. The amazing thing about Michael Jackson is that we still have his music and the change he made.

I don't think that it is actually Michael Jackson that is annoying me the most about this frenzy. It is the fact that I believe we (as humans, as Americans..I dont know) are putting too much emotion into the wrong things. I am tired of the news highlighting celebrities. I feel as though I am drowning in media waste. Gross. I don't want to know anymore about the details of movie star A and movie star B's breakup. I want to know about the 9 year old girl who spent months of allowance to save a puppy from the pound. I want to hear about the 84 year old man who got his high school diploma. I want to read about advocates. I want to be moved and challenged. I want to change and be inspired to have an influence. I never ever want to even come close to being the person who spends hundreds of dollars to go stare at a celebrities corpse in a box instead of handing over a dime to help end hunger, disease and poverty. I honestly kind of feel like throwing up a little bit right now.
"We are the ones who make a brighter day"
from We are the World by Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie
Let's move on.
Please.

quoted on purpose (part1)

"The purpose of life is a life of purpose."

-Robert Byrne

Simple enough, right? And something I've read or heard in about a zillion different places and translations. Yet, somehow, I still don't know what it means. I have ideas and even examples from my life of what it means. I know that the words resonate in my heart, but I can't focus enough in that experience to grab hold of what action I next take to continue with that life. It drives my mind crazy.

What does a life of purpose mean to you?

ok, so I'm a sock snob

For the most part, I am a bargain shopper. I could really care less what brand my shirt is or whether I have the new hip style for the season. Don't get me wrong, I love fashion and I enjoy shopping, but I honestly think it is the creativity factor that draws me the most. There are a few brands that I tend to enjoy more than others (tevas) and there are certain items (hats) that I have more than I need of, but overall it's just "stuff" in my closet to me.
Then there are socks. I don't know what has happened to me, but it seems that my feet have become very picky over time. I used to buy $.99 socks at K-Mart and not think twice about it. Now, my heart rate elevates if I walk into an outdoor store and see a well-stocked row of good socks. This happened recently when I entered REI with a healthy dividend to spend. I could have easily purchased a new seat for my bike (which I desperately need). Or I could have picked out some hiking shoes (which I also kinda need). Instead, I came home with four pairs of socks and a cool recycled "coffee" mug thermos thing. Three pairs were Smartwool, which are definitely one of my favorites. I don't know if these socks are really $10 better than others or not. My wallet and simple mind say "no". My feet say "yes".

anyway

I have loved this song since I first heard it and was just listening to it as I was blogging, so I decided to post it

Anyway

by Martina McBride

You can spend your whole life building something from nothing

One storm can come and blow it all away

Build it anyway

You can chase a dream that seems so out of reach

and you know it might not ever come your way

Dream it anyway

Chorus: God is great, but sometimes life ain't good

And when I pray it doesn't always turn out like I think it should

But I do it anyway, I do it anyway

This world's gone crazy and it's hard to believe

that tomorrow will be better than today

Believe it anyway

You can love someone with all your heart, for all the right reasons,

and in a moment they can choose to walk away

Love 'em anyway

You can pour your soul out singing a song you believe in

that tomorrow they'll forget you ever sang

Sing it anyway,

sing it anyway

I sing,

I dream,

I love,

anyway

the rich yellow wall

Last night, I was aimlessly wandering around when I saw this yellow wall . Perhaps "aimlessly" is the wrong word since I was wandering with the purpose of finding something captivating to photograph. I just didn't have a specific plan. Back to the yellow wall. So, I see this restaurant, which has a beautiful yellow exterior with cool little green trees and plants with pretty red leaves right by the wall. On top of that, the sun was setting so the yellow was soaking up this warmth and vibrance that was simply incredible and the combination of all the shapes and colors was beautiful. So, I take some photos. Then I look at the photos. What I am creating with the camera is not what my eye is seeing. It's cool, but not what I want it to be. Then this person pulls up by where I am and looks at me funny, which was strange because the restaurant was actually closed and no one was around. So, I leave my "uncapturable" yellow wall and take the long way around the building away from the weird person sitting in their car in an empty parking lot. I was a little sad and about to leave, but I looked back and saw these birds fly out of a roofed area right by these cool lanterns and the sun slowly dropping behind the mountains. It looked picture perfect. It would have been so cool to take that shot, but the problem was that the birds flew away. I tried some bird calls to get them back, but it didn't work. Just kidding. I walked back anyway and began to notice that I was surrounded by pictures. There were the lanterns, tons of windows, lots of reflections, cool plants, a setting sun and lots of random interesting objects. And there was the yellow wall, of course. I took lots of pictures and I plan to go back. The most interesting thing about this little story is how much it reflects my life. As I wandered away, it struck me that this was the case. There have been lots of yellow walls along my journey. But it seems I somehow always manage to stumble upon the shot that I didn't see coming. Things never seem to work out the way I plan. Actually, part of the problem is probably that I dont really plan. But there are always opportunities around the corner. I don't know how the weird person ties in. Perhaps literally.