Jordan Dibb

Summer. Now. Please.

2012-03-01T08:41:00.003-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
After four more inches of snow, here in Minnesnowta, all I like is Summer. Summer and dinosaurs. Come onnnnn, Summer.

Lucy Rose Is Da Bomb(bay Bicycle Club)

2012-02-27T08:42:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
Bonjour, all. Hope your weekend was as gravy as Thanksgiving Dinner. After a super keen day of running, breakfast foods, writing stories, puppy play dates, and yum yum din din, the gal pal and I ventured forth to go see her new favy band Bombay Bicycle Club. Getting there just after doors opened we discovered the cutest lil' gal playing an amazingly laid back acoustic show. After quiet applauses I was able to catch hints of humble greetings through her beautifully delightful british accent and that her name was Lucy Rose. I kina wanted her to read me a children's book on tape. I totes bought her album on iTunes and so shall you! Link, away!

After her too short of a set was over, we heard the likes of The Darcys (aka strange out-of-tune lead singer who appeared to be a malfunctioning zombie robot and a bassist who I'm fairly certain had just committed a murder). They were not too shabby, crabby. But, Bombay Bicycle Club was pretty kewl. We were treated to more Lucy Rose, as she provided background vocals and upbeat woodblock beats for a handful of BBC's songs. Hooray. The only Bombay song I had heard before the show was their newest single "Shuffle" that is played daily on 89.3 The Current. Of course they played it encore style, but everything leading up to that was just as good as eggs on toast. And I love eggs on toast.

BBC was keen and I fully recommend you check out their music. Only after listening to Lucy Rose first, of course. Monday, away!

Videos, Ahoy!

2012-02-20T09:06:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
It's Monday. The only way we'll survive to the weekend is by watching awesome videos. So here are three for your viewing pleasure: Madeon's live smash up performance of his smmmmash hit Pop Culture. Next is a very serious video about cats. Please, don't laugh. Lastly, an awesome video by Rainn Wilson's Soul Pancake. I love love! And I love you! Awwway!

Books and Running and Stuff!

2012-02-16T08:43:00.002-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
Weee! Thursday. I love it. Guess what else I love? Running! Reading A Good Book That Invokes Imagination! Motorcycles! Road Trips! Camping! Mountains! Nifty Bedrooms!

Riding the Cloud

2012-02-13T09:08:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
Good Monday, my friends! Check out what I've just discovered on Inhabitat.com! Tiago Barros has designed a... plane? blimp? We'll just call it a... cloud! Barros has designed a cloud that will wisp its passengers away on a skyline serenade with other (actual) clouds and bluebird skies. Constructed out of stainless steel and tensile nylon fabric, it would apparently be very durable and have a great green footprint! There'd be no schedule, destination, or speed to adhere to. You'd just board and go with the wind... until you set gently down on top of the Empire State building...

Though it probably will never actually be made and fly the pristine airways, still a very awesome idea. If it was created and deemed safe, would you ride on it? I wonder if they'd hand out clumps of helium balloons to serve as parachutes. Love you all!

Mint Green Pants! Holy Shmants!

2012-02-10T08:37:00.000-06:00

Fashion Friday
Blegh. This summer is getting long, my bloggy friends. I was going to post a plethora of Fashion Friday spring wear. But as I started to find pictures of swimsuits, t-shirts and shorts, I started to cry for my love for warm weather. So I'll put it off until we reach at least March. So here's some awesome all year fashion! Loafing the mint green pants and greener green shoes on ASOS! And that NW3 Emily Fitted burnt red blazer! Yow wow! Plus, I'm totes diggin' her glasses!

I went on GQ.com and took a gander at their street style section and came out with these favys. Basically any outfit will look great when put in front of a fire truck! Hope all of your weekends go well and see you next week! Up, up and awayyyy!

Pet AT-AT

2012-02-09T10:24:00.000-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
I like things! It's Thursday. One more day until the glorious weekend. Any plans, my bloggy frogs? Just a reminder, this weekend Star Wars Episode I comes out in 3D! Hot momma, it'll be great! Also, I love breakfast food. I love you.

Love From Haiti

2012-02-08T08:05:00.000-06:00

Guest Blogger Wednesday

Music

2012-02-07T09:29:00.001-06:00

Short Story Tuesday

“Music takes us out of the actual and whispers to us dim secrets that startle our wonder as to who we are, and for what, whence, and whereto.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The sky overhead clouded over as I neared my last few miles of the day. A long stretch of empty road through a deserted village laid in front of me and not a soul could be seen, except for a young boy sitting on his shoe shine box. Sweaty, tired, and on the verge of death from boredom I slowly plodded down the lonely street. It's at this point in my walks where time seems to stretch and a single mile seems to go on for infinity. It's times like these where I start to believe I’ll never end my day’s walk. As I came up to the young boy I noticed he was whistling and tapping his foot. When I passed he gave me a happy nod and I could hear him quietly humming a tune. Amazed that he was so upbeat, even though he had the dirtiest job in town, I asked him how he kept from getting the blues. He just grinned and said “Getta rhythm!”

With that a drum beat issued out from my iPod, its sound seeming to fill the air around us. The boy jumped up and started to strut down the street. I followed. Every few steps he gave a little skip in his step and twirled once or twice. I suddenly noticed that my backpack had magically disappeared, leaving me light as a feather. A guitar riff started in as I looked up at the cloudy sky overhead and gave a frown. The young boy and I glanced at each other and then faced the dark gray mass, inhaled deeply, and blew away the clouds. A sun appeared from behind them, stretched, and gave us a wink. “Well hello, Mr. Blue Sky!” the young boy yelled up and the sun beamed. As the song entered into its first verse we danced down the street as a few people stuck their heads out of their kitchen windows and began to sing along. We crossed Abbey Road with four gentlemen dressed in suits, as woman named Lucy floated overhead, littering the sky with diamonds. I asked one of them how he was feeling and he replied, “I feel fine!” “Me too!” I said. For a few seconds we saw life in technicolor as we convinced ourselves that we were indeed, very busy people. From my iPod’s audiobooks emerged Harry Potter and Edgar Freemantle. As Harry conjured jets of colorful sparks, Edgar painted the most beautiful sunset where seashells bloomed into roses.

An uncontrollable happiness had now spread over me as I started to dance down the street, a few onlookers joining in. We passed an elementary school where a banner read “School’s Out For The Summer!”, except that the words “For The Summer” had been crossed out and replaced with “Forever”. Kids spilled out into the streets and threw their homework into the air, laughing and doing cartwheels. The teachers threw out all the rules and began to smoke and kiss in the parking lot as “A+” papers fell all around them. One teacher asked what kind of music this was and another shrugged, replying, “I dunno, but it’s still rock and roll to me!” A considerable crowd had begun to accumulate behind me as I sang the chorus and danced moves I never knew I had in me. Overhead a house supported by thousands of colorful balloons passed by as an elderly couple held hands and reminisced about all the stuff that they had done. The house dropped in altitude just slightly as 99 red balloons detached themselves and floated away in the summer sky.

As the second verse started in, and more people fell in line behind me, my heart gave a jump and then leapt out of my chest. It grew arms and legs and then turned into the most beautiful girl who had ever possessed my heart. We kissed as a burning ring of fire encircled us, but we swore we didn’t start it. ”Oh! It is love!” someone nearby exclaimed. We passed by Strawberry Swing, a building labeled “Feel Good Inc.” and then a pool party where hundreds of people swam and sang, “Holy guacamole, we’ve got chips!” The crowd behind us grew into hundreds as we all started into a dance routine. We all dance and twirled, leapt and tumbled as a petty poet sang to a courtesan on top of an elephant’s head. As the second verse slid into the chorus I rose my right arm up into the air and then brought it down onto what had been an air guitar and heard the deafening reverberation of its strings sounding through the street. We came to the town’s center square where a large stage stood and crowd of thousand stood before it, cheering and swaying. I jumped onto stage and sang the chorus as the guitarist sporting blue suede shoes to my right moved his hips in a way that made all the girls swoon. I handed my guitar to Tom who sang a few of the chorus’ final lines, “And everyday I wake, I tell myself a little harmless lie…”

I dove off stage and surfed through the crowd. I met up with my girl and we clasped hands and laughed as we floated through the masses. As we entered the middle of town square, and the song entered its space-like interlude, the crowd threw us onto a large trampoline where we began to jump higher and higher. We jumped so high that we left the town down below, floated past the place where soul meets body, through the vanilla twilight and emerged into outer space. We saw a rocket man and Major Tom being swallowed by infinity’s limits, with the earth below them, drifting, falling. As they floated weightlessly they both sang, “This is our home… We’re going home.” As they disappeared we spun and twirled, we wore the stars that turned on our lives and kissed in a way that made the galaxies blush. As we kissed planet earth turned slowly and I thought about how love’s been good to me. We walked on sunshine and talked about what a wonderful world we live in. As the song neared the end of its bridge we began to fall back to earth, leaving behind such great heights.

We were free fallin’ as we passed eagles who were flying through a hole in the world. As we drifted down to Earth the stars overhead became explosions in the sky and we landed on the ground as the song’s final chorus burst into action. Thousands of people fell in behind us and began to sing along. A skulk of three foxes darted between our legs, chasing after red rabbits. Through the door’s of a nearby church, a large gospel choir dressed in maroon robes spilled out into the street, singing the background vocals. A heavenly voice filled the air as the hills surrounding the small town came alive with the sound of music. The energy in the air had such an electric feel that we all felt like electric eels as we sang and twirled in slow motion. We turned down the final long stretch of road which was lined by thousands of excited onlookers. We paraded on as marching band appeared from out of alleyways and their brassy music bounced off all the buildings. Passing a turnoff for Margaritaville, someone threw me a large conducting baton and I lead the way, high-stepping through the streets, giving my step an extra bounce here and there. Fireworks exploded overhead and the elderly couple released their thousands of balloons that filled the sky, their surfaces bending the sunlight into rainbows. As spots of colors swam across our faces and the streets, my baton turned into a orchestra conductor’s wand and I handed it off to Mr. Williams. He gave it a wave and the marching band turned into the magnificent Boston Pops Orchestra as the climax of the song began. Horns blared and a timpani thundered booms as I approached the end of the road.

A portly man – the town’s mayor – was standing in front of a doorway that stood in the middle of the street, the words “The Whole Wide World” written across its top. He was holding a large poofy pillow where a shiny key lay. I took the key and then looked back at the street behind me. The parade of people had stopped and were now singing the last words of the song. Fireflies filled the air as dancers spun and everyone began to wave their hands. The orchestra’s horns swelled and the drums began to crescendo. The brown-eyed girl gave me one last smile as everyone stared on expectantly. I turned back to the door, unlocked it with the key and entered through it as the last note sounded. The instant the door shut the song ended and the world became completely quiet. My pack had returned to my shoulders and I turned around to find an empty street and a cloudy sky. My heart threatened to drop, but I then saw the young shoe shine boy down the street, tapping his foot. I smiled, pushed “repeat” on my iPod and walked on as the sun appeared from behind the clouds and the world turned into my own, once again.

Here At The End Of All Things...

2012-02-06T09:40:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
Hello all my blog mellons! Did you enjoy the Supa Bowl yesterday? I sure did, cause I didn't watch it. Instead, my friend and I woke up in the wee hours of the morning (9:30am) and began our 3rd annual Lord of the Rings (extended editions!) Marathon Super Bowl Day! That's right, all eleven and a half hours of LOTR goodness. One year we were like, we don't like football, but we too want to have a day where we sit in front of the TV like goons and stuff our faces full of food. Alas, LOTR Marathon. But even before we started that, we had each seen the 3 movies all in one sitting multiple times before. I tried to figure out last night how many times I had marathoned them all together and I think I just hit 9x. Next year will have to be a special viewing!

I love all things fantasy. I'm a huge fan of Star Wars and Star Trek. Of course HP. I've read about all of the extended Star Wars novels. But there's something special about LOTR. Every time I rewatch the trilogy I remember why I love these movies. For me, it's like all the characters are my very best friends and when I watch the movies, they come to visit. We laugh, we cry, we battle some nasty uraki... And every time I get to the end of the Return of the King, I suddenly remember I have to say goodbye to them all (but not in such a cheesy manner as in the movies, when they all laugh and giggle around a bed...). Every year I come to love my fictional friends more and more, and when Sam and Frodo have just destroyed the ring and they sit upon the rock with no hope of survival, I almost believe that I am there as well, wrapping my arms around them and coming to the realization that we've made it to the end of all things... together.

Until next year, that is!

R2D2 Swimsuit

2012-02-03T12:15:00.000-06:00

Fashion Friday
Hello Bloggy Frogs. It's been a crazy week. Sorry I disappeared for a minute. Won't happen again! Well... It probably will once or twice. But I'll try not to! K, but look at this! R2D2 C3P0 swimsuits by Black Milk Clothing! Oh golly, these are super keen! Male version asap, please!

And then I saw these two awesomes on my new favy blog, The Bedlam of Beefy. And he was sharing these originally posted by Happy Interior Blog. Two good finds! Muhaha. Wooden watch?! Awesome weekender?! Fashion Friday for the win! Have a great weekend and I'll see you guys and gals on Monday. Guaranteed. Allstate.

Book Cover Lova

2012-01-30T09:16:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
Good Monday, friends! Hope your weekend was more fun than a stegosaurus in a balloon shop. As I prepare to publish my collection of short stories, I am putting the finishing touches on the cover. Doing some cover research, I stumbled across these collections of awesome examples on Paper Darts. A local Minneapolis Mag / Blog / Publisher. They're totes neat, so make sure to check out more of what they publish and gab about. Below are a few of my favorite (and not so favorite) covers they covered. Which are your favy?

Fashionable Spiders, Foxes, & Legos!

2012-01-27T08:59:00.001-06:00

Fashion Friday
Good Gravy, it's Friday! How totally swell! And fashion and Fridays go together even better than french fries and peanut butter! So without further adieu, I give you my fashion Friday on this wonderful weekday butt. I am not a fan of spiders. At all. When I did my walk across the country I came across some brown recluse spiders in Tennessee and the disgusting banana spider in Florida. And on that adventure spiders and I formed a forever hatred of each other. But then I saw this world's largest garment made only from spider silk (from over a million different golden orb spiders, taking 5 years to complete!). They still may be gross and all leggy and nasty. But I guess they make pretty sweet clothes. Thanks, spiders!

Foxes are in. And that's just a dag nasty fact. I knew it years ago. I named my band Earth For Foxes, I called my little dogs 'foxes', I bought shirts with foxes on them. And now even Burberry has joined the fox frenzy. I'm so over it. Jay Kay. Loaf foxes!

And if there's anything I love more than foxes, it's LEGOs! So, what about these "super blocky" pair of stilettos I found on the Ecouterre site? You likey? I wonder if they come with a little booklet featuring vague instructions on how to build them? I someday will own and complete the Star Wars Super Star Destroyer lego set (over 3,000 pieces!). But until now, these shoes will have to do. Happy Friday, my little fox friends. I love you.

Two Droids, Backin' It Up!

2012-01-26T08:12:00.000-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
Salutations my bloggy friends! This week has drug by. Oh come on, it's not that bad. And I really appreciate all of your guys / gals support to my blog. So, as a token of my goodwill, I present you a gift: These two droids.

Hehaw. Jay kay. Here are the things I like this Thursday: Awesome stop-animation videos of the evolution of creatures (drawn on the sides of buildings and stuff!), fresh food, maps, the big ol' uni, and of course the annoyingly keen "Backin' Up" song. Every time I listen to it, I'm like OoOoOoOoh my gawd! Happy Thursday!

J Sterling Guest Blogger!

2012-01-25T08:39:00.000-06:00

Guest Blogger Wednesday
Attention Jordan lovers….
I’ve kidnapped Jordan and put him in a basement filled with only yellow skittles and chocolate milk. Have you ever tried to drink milk with skittles? It’s gross. Where was I? Oh yeah. Jordan. Basement. The only way you can get him back is if you go buy 10,000 copies of my young adult book.
*insert evil laugh* Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’m sure Jordan will be back tomorrow. But for today, you get me! YAYYYYYYY! So…my name’s Jenn. I wrote a book for teenage girls.

People keep telling me it’s not very good, so you should probably stay away from it. But then again, maybe you like that sort of thing? If that's the case, you should definitely get it. Hell, you should buy like 10 copies of it. :)
My book? It's a smooshy romance. It deals with soulmates, past lives and reincarnation. I think that scares people.
Like me.
I'm very scary.

See?
Aside from writing books, I also like to take pictures. I annoy everyone with my camera and constant
"TURN AROUND! SMILE!" everywhere we go.

And don't even get me started on my cupcakes.

Aren't they cute?
Holy crap, what has this post turned into? I think I was just supposed to tell you about my book? Or maybe how I used to work for the Walt Disney Company and Lucasfilm (jordan loves star wars, so he's very jealous about this)?
But none of that really has anything to do with my book. Cause I don't write about mickey mouse, or lightsabers.
Maybe I should?
Nah.
Anyway, it's been fun hanging out, forcing you to look at my pictures and torturing jordan in the basement I don't really have.
My name is Jenn and I'm a Young Adult writer. In Dreams is my debut novel. It's mostly romance, with a light paranormal aspect.
"When Katherine Johns starts dreaming about a boy she doesn't know, her college roommate Taylor is determined to find him. Convinced he must exist, Taylor is relentless... until she finds out exactly WHO the mysterious stranger really is.The realization rocks the girls to their core and sends them down a path of unimaginable heartbreak as they learn how to navigate their new reality.Follow Katherine & Taylor's journey through love, friendship and tragedy in this emotionally captivating debut novel by J. Sterling. "
I have more books on the way, so if you're interested- please check out my website at www.j-sterling.com for more on me than you ever could have wanted. Sometimes I stay stuff on Twitter: @RealJSterling but i'm mostly on Facebook: www.facebook.com/TheRealJSterling
Thanks for letting me hang out with you today!

The Wolf

2012-01-24T09:04:00.000-06:00

Short Story Tuesday

There once was a wolf that lived with his mate and pup, deep in the woods. One day the wolf came across a small farm and a bird coupe that held ten fat chickens. The wolf broke into the pen and killed three of the chickens, yet he was only able to carry two of them in his mouth. He returned to his den, where he and his family ate until they were full.

Even though there was food left over, the wolf returned to the farm the next day. He slipped into the chicken pen again and in his excitement he killed four more birds. As he picked up two of the chickens, the farmer and his young son came from the house, yelling. The wolf escaped unharmed and once again returned to his den. His family ate their fill and still there was plenty left over.

The next day the smell of the farm and chickens wafted through the woods. The wolf was unable to control his instincts. He returned to the farm and cautiously slipped into the pen, ready to kill the remaining chickens. Instead, he found that all of the birds were already dead. From the corner of the coupe the farmer appeared, holding a bloody knife. Feathers stuck to his hands. As the wolf turned to escape, the farmer’s wide-eyed son, who had been hiding behind the feeding trough, shot him dead.

As the farmer clasped his son on the shoulder, the wolf’s pup watched on from the woods as his father’s blood ran slowly through the dirt.

Mount Book

2012-01-23T20:32:00.000-06:00

Me Monday
Hey all! Sorry it's taken so long to post today's blog! Ay Caramba! Long birthday filled weekend = no work getting done. But I saw this awhile back and wanted to share it with you. You may have seen it before, but I invite you to take a closer look at the detail and really appreciate the delicate perfection of it all. Helps me remember to slow down from my seemingly "hectic" life and work on something that's beautiful and meaningful to myself. Happy Monday all, and look forward to a fun / productive / and totes awesome week!

Birthday, Fruit Blouse, and Petting Pickles

2012-01-20T09:42:00.001-06:00

Fashion Friday
It's Friday. It's fashiony. It's my birthday. And it's snowing! Great Gatsby, I love it! So, lets dive right in, shall we? During my vay-kay in the Wind City we stopped at the store ALLSAINTS SPITALFIELDS. Ever heard if it? It's pretty gnarly, like an upscale H&M. I had a $100 gift card there, but there was so much keen stuff, I couldn't choose. A great excuse to have to go back soon! You should check it though, cause it was super keen.

As I was doing my weekly perusing of ASOS, I came across these two lovelies. First, this super keen Nishe Blouse with Fruit Print Tie. I love stuff like this, but I'm a guy and usually my girlfriend doesn't agree with my taste in blouses / shirts. Do you likey?

Secondly on ASOS, I found this keen slim Jean pants that I totes like. And then I was like, these would go gravy with my Sperry Top-Siders. Which then made me think of the green top-siders I would love to get someday soon...

And lastly, for my Birthday, my wonderful friend Michelle made me this shirt, featuring my Aussie pup, Pickle. This will certainly help to have a visual when I go around asking strangers if they'd like to pet my Pickle. Thanks Michelle. And thank you, my wonderful bloggy frogs friends! Have a great weekend!

Holy Bookshelf, Batman!

2012-01-19T08:37:00.000-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
Oh my Thursday! I love stuff. First off, maybe you've seen this video already? If not, get with it, cause it's sweeping the internet faster than Furbies in the 90's. A girl in LA took video of her day, everyday for one year and edited them to one second each, so you can watch her whole year in 7 minutes. Reminds us how special each day is! Love it. Also, I love my dog Pickle, canoeing, bookshelves, batman graffiti I found in Wind City (Chicago), and Christopher McCandless..

Panic in the Houseware Department

2012-01-18T00:00:00.000-06:00

A Wednesday Guest Post, cheekily posted late Tuesday night

by Erin H. of Yard Sale Snoop & Pyrex Collective

What it's all about.

Thank you to Jordan for inviting me to guest blog in this lovely blog you're soaking in. My name is Erin H. I'm a teacher/thrifter/Pyrex lover who lives in Toronto. You may know me from such other blogs as Yard Sale Snoop and the Pyrex Collective.

This past weekend while visiting my folks in their hometown, my father, son and I went thrifting at Goodwill and Value Village. As we strolled into the Goodwill, it occurred to me how completely crazy I get when I enter thrift stores. Any normal person would casually pick up a shopping cart or basket and begin leisurely rummaging through racks of slacks - perhaps humming along to Steve Winwood's "Back in the High Life Again" or other such EZ-Rock faves. I'm different. Does this sound familiar?

Before we even enter the store, I'm already telling my six-year-old son to go busy himself in the toy section. "Don't talk to strangers, don't make a mess, and stay there. You know where I'll be!" "I know, looking for Pyrex."

If the store isn't crowded, I usually walk briskly or begin running. If there's a lot of people shopping, I start pushing my way almost angrily past people, already feeling defeated: "I bet that lady took all the good Pyrex. It's under the muumuu in her shopping cart. I just know it!"

When I get to the houseware section, I scan the shelves quickly to assess the situation. I always have low expectations, that way if the deluxe Butterprint dish doesn't materialize - my Pyrex feelings won't be hurt. Generally, I find tons of seventies fondu sets and clear glass bakeware. Occasionally, there are some nice pieces of Anchor Hocking casserole dishes. And, yes - Pyrex does show up from time to time. The pickings are getting slimmer and the prices are going up when you do find the good stuff. But like crusty old Jack Hoffman on Gold Rush Alaska - I keep chipping away at the "glory hole" willing the world's most cheerful glassware to come to me. It is a serious condition.

I'll leave you with some beautiful music. I'm really not an angry person - normally. Here's Mountain Man. Enjoy!

Erin
Pyrex Collective & Yard Sale Snoop

The Bear

2012-01-17T15:52:00.002-06:00

Short Story Tuesday

Spring always comes, and this the bear knew. Even through the harshest of weather, the bear didn’t doubt it. Whether or not the bear knows this by his own smarts and cunning, or merely by instincts is quite unknown. But nonetheless; it knows.

So when the snow began to melt and dribble into cool slim streams on top of muddy brown earth, the bear awoke. It happens fast, the waking. Like how a human will awake from a nightmare, drenched in his own sweat and confusion. Though, with the bear it’s on a different level. All thought, understanding, reason, desire, pleasure and fear returns all at once. It’s as if the animal initial awakes from a dream, to only find itself about to be overtaken by an icy wave in the middle of a deep grey ocean. And from emerging from sleep to the actual moment of being consciously awake seemingly fills a lifetime.

Of course, only a few moments go by from the time the bear is fast asleep within its hibernation to the point of it being wide awake . . . But in those moments, the rush of life back into a nearly empty vessel is an exhilaratingly profound moment.

At first the bear has a sharp recollection that it can think. Not clearly at first, but in no time at all it becomes aware of its reanimated existence into this world. Next, and almost at the same time, comes two more recollections; that the bear must quickly relieve itself and then, promptly find nourishment for survival. And not just nourishment, but that it must feed on anything and everything that its still very blurry and out of focus eyes land upon - for months have gone by since the taste of food has touched the bear’s tongue.

After that comes the task of actually moving, and eventually getting up to find said food. Its first attempt at rising to its feet will always result in failure. The muscles of the bear have not been used in many weeks, and thus have become foggy on how to perform their functions. Once the strength of the muscles flow back into the bear, it spends many moments working its legs into walking-like-movements within its pitch black den, falling over itself it great humbleness.

Then, as its newly restored heart rate begins pumping more and more oxygen rich blood into its muscles, the bear stands for the first time in quite awhile. For minutes he’ll just stand there, allowing his four wobbly legs to gain more strength and balance. A small but gratifying victory. Shortly after comes the first step, quickly followed by the next. And just as it had once did as a small cub, the bear clamors up and out if its den and takes a lungful of the chilled spring air.

As the smells of moist, rotten dirt and crisp freezing water fills the bear’s nostrils, instinct rushes vital information to its minimal sense of understanding; it is weak, it is hungry, and it must eat within hours in order to survive. So, after taking a moment to feebly venture a few feet from its den to relieve itself, the bear begins its sole purpose in life; to find food and eat it.

The bear will take a quick moment to slurp down cups of crisp water through its gaping dry mouth and then set forth in search of sustenance. Signs of life are all around him. Squirrels chatter obnoxiously over fierce territorial qualms, hawks stealthily circle overhead watching for field mice within the brown spring grass. The bear pauses beneath a tree, staring up at a red squirrel that noisily barks down at him from high above. But the bear knows better than to waste its time with the small rodent. So it sets out through the towering evergreen forest for a much needed meal to nourish its frail and thin body.

For days the bear searched the woods, but only ever found a few dirty roots and tubers buried beneath the wet earth. What the bear didn’t know – and frankly how could the poor beast know – was that the winter which it slept so quietly through was one of the worst the woods had seen in nearly a decade. So while the bear lazily slumbered beneath the frozen earth, other creatures succumbed to the freezing temperatures and weeks of sleet and snow.

The bear also didn’t know – though this time he should’ve - that during its quest for a survival meal, he had trespassed on the territory of his grey wolf neighbors. Proud and swift, the wolves normally would leave a creature the size of the bear alone, and the bear would happily return the favor.

The winter was hard for all animals and was certainly on the wolves as well. The pack had feasted on the younger, weaker members during the roughest weeks, and even then the majority of the pack died in the icy grip of winter. With nothing to eat and the instinctual pull to feed its pregnant wife back in its den, the lead wolf knew it had to venture past its territory in order to survive and feed its family. So, with an empty stomach and a heart full of desperation, the wolf crossed out of its own territory and sought out a tiny hare, which it had been tracking for some time.

The wolf eventually found the hare, but in a very peculiar position, hanging a few meters off the ground by its hind feet. And just as the wolf had begun to leap into the air, gnashing its white teeth at the hanging meal, an arrow pierced its side and punctured its lung. The wolf was dead by the time it flopped back down onto the earth. The trapper, holding his bow and wiping the nervous sweat from his brow, already had a sleigh full of game and had no choice but to leave the wolf carcass behind as he made his way back to his camp many miles away.

And not too far away, a few days later, the hungry bear realized it was treading on the ground that belonged to the wolves. It also realized, on a deep and unconscious level that if it was so hungry, the pack of wolves would be as well. So in a clumsy haste, it turned tail and made its way back towards the land near its den. And that is when the bear found the dead wolf.

In the time from when the wolf had been shot by the trapper, to now when the bear stumbled upon it, nothing but a lone black raven had found the chilled carcass. Taking one last greedy beak full of meat, the raven took flight as the bear neared, taking up roost on a bare branch above.

The bear didn’t smell the air for any other nearby competition. It didn’t take a moment to gaze about for other hungry beasts of burden. It just closed its eyes and delved into the already exposes side of the wolf’s body. Fresh – well, nearly fresh – meat mixed with the frozen bloody icicles were almost too much for the bear. It groaned loudly as instinct took its hold and it didn’t even realize its greedy grasp until nothing but a few bones and light mist of gore surrounded the spot where the dead wolf once lay.

The black bird called sourly as the bear sat on its hind end and starred about stupidly, its muzzle a deep red from the blood. Slowly, and with much effort, the over-stuffed bear arose and headed back through the woods towards its den. Unable to get much farther than a few hundred meters, the bear flopped down next to a large oak and curled itself tightly against the roots, asleep within seconds.

The next morning, as the bear silently slept, the trapper returned with hopes of finding a still intact wolf carcass. Of course he only found a bloody spot in the snow, which was still being watched from above by the grumpy black raven. But upon a closer look, the trapped noticed a trail of bloody paw prints leading off towards a towering oak. Tightening his grip around his bow, the trapper ventured forth, cautiously stepping to the sides of the large bear tracks and made his way towards the slumbering beast.

For a moment the bear thought that perhaps it had already been another year. That after feasting on the dead wolf, it had slept through the season and was now awakening at the start of a brand new spring. Its body was tight and in pain, his head cloudy and heavy with confusion. As the bear opened its eyes and adjusted to the morning light, it suddenly realized something moving nearby. And then the bear smelled the moving creature as well; the stink of man in dirty cotton coverings.

Just then the bear smelled blood as well. It had first mistaken the smell of blood for the wolf’s that had dried on his fur and muzzle. The bear quickly imagined – in a way that a bear can imagine – that the starving pack of wolves was now upon him, full of hungry vengeance for consuming their leader. But the bear realized the blood smelled too fresh to be the late wolf’s. And suddenly, like that icy wave from the deep grey ocean, the bear realized that it smelled its own blood. It realized that the pain it felt in its muscles was not that of stiff and soreness, but that from an arrow that was dug deep into its side, a good half-foot.

And just then the bear also realized that the thing moving off to its side was the man of which he smelled. As if the blood was running down into its eyes, the bear quickly rose as its vision turned an uncontrollable red. Ignoring the arrow in its side, the bear lunged at the man, who had just fired an ill aimed arrow. The wooden shaft flew past the bear’s left ear, smacking into the oak’s trunk a few feet later. The man had just enough time to unsheathe his eight-inch blade from his belt as the bear landed on top of him in a furry of teeth and claws.

As the knife plunged into the its chest, piercing the heart, the bear sank its mouthful of teeth into the man’s face, gouging out an eye and ripping out the man’s lower jaw.

Both fell to the earth dead, their blood slowly mixing into one large pool of red that slowly soaked into the snowy ground. The black bird quickly found the scene, and laughed and hopped on a tree branch above. Its cackling became deafening as the pack of wolves, which had also followed the bear’s bloody trail, came upon the two dead animals. They licked their lips as they cautiously neared the lifeless bodies.

Ten miles away, an acquaintance of the now dead trapper mushed a team of eight large dogs along the trapper’s trail. The cold steel of his gun pressed against the acquaintance’s side as he thought about the debt of dollars the trapper still owed him. About how he would make him pay.

The Bear by Jordan Dibb

Cover Teaser, Filipino Breakfast, Art, and Cupcakes!

2012-01-16T09:35:00.003-06:00

Me Monday
Tis Monday and the beginning of another wonderful week, yesh?! And it's MLK day. So, it's like, super awesome. Firstly, my new collection of short stories, The Immortal Jellyfish (a collection of stories focusing on life & death), will be published and available for download super soon! But until then, enjoy this cover teaser! I hope you like it! Totes jelly!

Last Friday we flew on a jet plane to visit our friends in the windy city and now today we're getting ready to head back home to the frozen Minneapple... wah. But not before I show you some fotos of our adventures the other day! We first drove through the blustery weather to eat at Uncle Mike's, a deliciously quaint lil' restaurant that severed Filipino (I guess it's spelt with a "F" and not a "Ph"! Who knew?!) breakfast. Mmm. So good. And there was awesome floral tiling. Coolz. Then we hit up the Museum of Contemporary Art, where we saw a plethora of super unique exhibits. My favy: the "movie" that just showed a record player going round and round as the music played loudly. Also, loved the name lists for book and movies... ha. Sea Egg. We finished the day by each getting a supremely delicious cupcake from Sprinkles Cupcakes, where diva Blake Lively has created a marshmallow chocolate cupcake. I got strawberry. It was yummo. Meh, I'll miss Wind City and my friendly friends there. But we'll be back... in... the summer time! Happy Monday readers, I loaf you all!

Old Folk Fashion, with Bruce and His Critter Friends!

2012-01-13T09:14:00.000-06:00

Fashion Friday
Fashion Friday, ahoy! Finally, yes? In a matter of hours I'll be swept away to the windy city for a three day weekend with the gal pal and old college friends. And speaking of old, you may soon learn that I have a special place in my oversized heart for elderly fashion! Totes love when people keep up their style sense (even after popping out babies and the wrinkles takes over). Cause I believe the older you get, the better looking you get... in most cases. And that's why I love this new blog I've discovered, "Advanced Style", a blog featuring creative and well dressed older folk! Egads, I loaf it!

So, I was watching a Bruce Lee flick the other day and was like, 'Wowza, Bruce Lee dresses totes supreme!" Who'd have thought?! Some day I hope I can kick as much bootie as him and still look good doing it! You da man, Bruce

And lastly, let me tell you about my love for foxes and other woodland creatures... I love em! I love them all. And what's better, is when I see their cute little furry faces ~~plastered~~ embroidered and printed on clothing! Just like this raccoon and fox sweaters from Urby. Definitely got them for the gal pal and she looks simply creature-tastic in them! Aw... (Also note Emily's "Twin Peaks" iPhone cover and her ring of death that has nearly gouged out my eyes like, gagillions of times!) Happy Fashion Friday and may the force be with you... always.

Puzzle Wolf, Mudkip, And Dr. Dog

2012-01-12T11:16:00.000-06:00

Things I Like Thursday
As the week begins to wrap up, here are few of things that I love the most: flying in airplanes (I fly to Chicago tomorrow! sky party!), my new puzzle featuring a happy pack of wolves, Pokemon tattoos, the harbor in front of our apartment during summer, terrariums, houses with climbing walls in them, and dogs doing people things!

The Loneliness of Things: The Toothbrush

2012-01-10T09:12:00.006-06:00

Short Story Tuesday

There exists a gap of space between the bathroom wall and the counter and sink where dust and dirt accumulates in masses, rotting in peace from the steam of a hot shower. The space is just under an inch wide, so it's no surprise that it is rarely, if ever, cleaned by the hands of my master, for his chubby arms simply will not fit. And it is no surprise then, that when I slipped from the fingers of my master, falling head first onto the marble countertop only to cartwheel through the air and land perfectly in the gap described above, that he only spent a moment or two trying to retrieve me for the dark depths.

I saw his fingers wiggle over the counter's edge, blindly groping in hopes of laying a touch on my soft, yet firm bristles. Or the sturdy build of my plastic handle. I nearly cried in fear when his fingers disappeared and his footsteps faded away. But a minute later my master returned. There was a bit of a commotion up above on the countertop for a moment, and then suddenly a brilliant light beamed down into the murky depths of the gap. The light slowly surveyed the disgusting state of the space, my master moaning to himself with disgust. And then the light found me. It would only be for a moment, and had I known that at the time then I would have spent the seconds gazing into my master's face. Instead, my excitement of being found overtook my senses and I only sat there, happily waiting to be retrieved. I heard a mumble from above, followed by a soft click and like that the light was gone, and as was my master. I cried to myself as his footsteps faded away for good.

I spent the day feeling completely sorry for myself, quite certain that this was the worst possible thing to happen to a toothbrush ever. My bristles, once sleek and white, were now filled with gunk and cobwebs. My handle, once a shimmering pearl color, was now streaked with black from the moldy dirt that was now my only companion. The only light for which I could survey my new hell was that from the gap above, and that alone wasn't much. I spent the day in nearly complete darkness, my mind lost on memories of being in my master's hands.

Just as I thought all hope was lost, I heard the steps of my master's partner - I could always tell because her stride was much shorter and she did not stomp around quite so much when she walked. Bright orange light suddenly beamed down from the gap above as she turned on the bathroom light and I heard her begin to wash her face, quietly humming to herself in a voice that I can only describe as a field of white floss billowing softly in a warm summer's breeze. For just a moment I almost believed I was back in the safety of my cup on the counter, bristling with excitement to be used. But suddenly the realization of where I truly was washed over me... but I hadn't given up hope quite yet.

As my master's partner started the shower, and my surroundings became moist and humid, I heard a knock on the bathroom door and the acknowledgment to be let in. And there he was, my master, talking with her as he bustled about with something on the bathroom counter. I could only imagine what he was rigging up to aide in my rescue: a long, slim grabbing stick, or maybe a clothes hanger, fashioned in a way to hook me under my bristles and pull me to safety. For quite some time I sat, excitedly anticipating my certain rescue from this horrible place. And then I heard it; the quiet hum of the thing I had feared the most since coming out of my plastic box so long ago: An electric toothbrush.

That first time, hearing the buzz of the electric's horsepower scrubbing over my master's teeth, I nearly ended my life right then and there. But in the dark gap between the wall and counter, such things aren't possible. There is no dog which you can feed yourself to, no drain to suddenly get swept away in... only blackness and grime. Everyday, when my master would return to the bathroom, there would a small part of me that hoped his fingers would suddenly appear overhead, reach down and tightly wrap around my handle. I'd be pulled up into the bright orange glow of the bathroom once again, much to both of our relief. He'd clean me off, load a healthy serving of my toothpaste friend onto my now disheveled bristles and just... brush. I could almost taste the mixture of mint and spit, the delicious cool rinse I would receive afterwards. And like that, as he'd place the electric brush on its charger and turn off the light, my hopes would be dashed and I'd prepare for another long night with only an occasional spider or centipede to keep me company - and they're not the most social of creatures.

Years went by, and I was beginning to feel it. My once sturdy handle was now weak and over-flexible. My bristles splayed out in every which direction, and deep down I knew they'd provide only minimal protection against cavities and gingivitis. I slowly came to the realization that even if my master rescued me from this hole of despair, I would no longer be in a condition to aide in his oral health... and that was the point in my life when all hope and ambition left my plastic soul. Doomed for a life of dirty solitude, I let the days go by without ever giving them a thought. Until one day, one glorious day when the most unfortunately amazing thing happened...

My master was in the bathroom, happily brushing his teeth with the electric - which had severely slowed in its rotations-per-second in my opinion - when suddenly there was thud on the counter top and a cruse from my master. I looked above, squinting in the glow of the light that squeezed its way down from above and suddenly saw the electric roll into view, its swiveling head still powered on. My master reached for it, his fingers suddenly coming into view as well. But out of his clumsiness he pushed the electric right over the edge. It bounced loudly, banging between the counter and wall like Listerine sloshing side to side in a mouth. With a dusty plunk the electric fell right next to me, its head shaking from side to side with fright, kicking up the debris around us.

Sure, my master shined the light down on me again, probably remembering for the first time in a very long time that I was even down there. And of course he only cursed to himself for his own clumsiness, before clicking off the light and giving up. But I didn't care. I stared in disbelief at the electric, buzzing loudly at my side. My insides were alight with emotions, whether happiness, spite, or a mixture of both I couldn't quite tell. I was just happy to just be feeling something again. And slowly, over the period of its first day down in the filthy gap, the power began to run itself out of the electric... its overly bristled end buzzing slower and slower. My dark-dwelling insect friends started to emerge from their hiding spaces, curious of the new occupant. But I only stared on in disbelief as my new roommate shook in fear, never taking his sights off the gap up above. And that night, when the fresh hum of his replacement resounded through the tiled bathroom walls above, drifting down into our dark cave of a hell, I could only smile as the remainder of his hope drained out of him with the last of his battery.

The Loneliness of Things
by Jordan Dibb