Ribbons on the Breeze

All those poisoned strands

Un-knotted and freed

Twirl darkly in the air

Wind currents steal the tangles

And I let them go; thinking

Aren’t they lovely.


Captain America: Winter Soldier – Inspiration and Synchronicity


It was ten minutes before showtime for Captain America: Winter Soldier, when things came together for a girl I do not know, in a place I rarely am. But for five minutes I was pivotal in her life. And it was fantastic.

I hate movie names with colons, hyphens or other punctuations. I’m giving this a pass because. Winter Soldier. Only one of the most awesome characters Marvel has ever resurrected. I can not express how much I love that arc, and I really enjoyed the spin they put on things for the current movie.

This is not a movie review. This is what happens in real life, when we are inspired. When we are driven to just get this one thing, do this one thing, we really, really want. Kismet, karma, synchronicity. Or just plain ol’ good luck.

It was the first night they were showing. Not the midnight one(I’m pretty incapable of that kind of fanaticism, even for Winter Soldier) but the regular first night show. I was going with my friend and her soon to be roomate. Roomie didn’t get her ticket in time and our theater sold out. Which was fine, really. We agreed to turn in our tickets to get the newly opened later showing.

I went to the back desk to deal out tickets for vouchers. There was a girl ahead of me. She was clearly stressed, but keeping it together.  Barely. I overhear what they say, because I am not polite. I’ve decided that certain types of politeness are overrated and not actually rooted in courtesy at all.

She said, “I got the wrong ticket. I can’t do 3D. I really need to change this to the regular 8 o’clock showing.”

“That showing is all sold, out, I’m sorry,” Says the man in the suit as I look at my two tickets with 8 o’clock on them. People  around probably didn’t bother to notice the sudden, weird smile I got going.

“I just… nothing? I just rode two buses and had to wait an hour between just to get here in time…” She laments. She has given up.

I take this moment to use my natural given timing to butt in  and say, “I can save your day, if you’ll let me cut ahead.” And then I look at the man with the suit and tie, and say, “Trade hers for this. I need vouchers.”

And she was suddenly relieved. That stunned thing that comes over, and then that breath where all the tension and horror bleeds out. It happened. I felt like such a big damn hero for what was really not such a big thing. But it obviously was, to her.

I don’t know what made her strive so hard to be at that theater, to get that 8 o’clock showing. The body of Chris Evans(it compels some)? The plight of Sebastian Stan(tragically awesome)? Or something else. It isn’t my story to know, I guess. She hurried off after  many rushed out thank yous.

We met another woman for the showing we decided to go to. She was training for boot camp. Marines. She was complaining of a headache when we got into the theater. She pushed herself really hard. We talked health and nutrition. I was kind of checking to make sure she didn’t break herself, get dehydrated or sun stroke. And then, probably because I had a mudslide and I just get… real loose with my offers… I offered to give her a massage right there in the theater.

Just a head and neck one, to alleviate some of the muscle tension that was probably the cause of her pain. Afterwards she declared her love. It happens. I said I was glad she was feeling better. I was feeling awesome to have been a little help to a few different people that day.

Winter Soldier is officially one of my good luck symbols. Poor guy. Good thing he’s a fictional character.

There is a Lesson in Here Somewhere

My son insisted on getting me my own Minecraft account. I usually use his dad’s. But now that I have my own, I had to get my own skin and be evil!cute. I have a little evil!house with and evil!town full of monsters, you see. So, he  and I were playing on a server he built to test my account. And I ask him, “How do I look?”

And he says, “Like Steve.”

Steve is the basic model. Ugly plain Steve. I hit F5 and see the cute ash haired 8bit figure… and then I look at his screen and I freaked out. I really did. Really embarrassing, but true. I practically screamed, “OMG! I don’t want to look like that!!! Why can’t you see my skin?”

He looked at me like I spoke a strange language.

“But, mom, you don’t look like that.”

He meant that I looked like the avatar I chose. Not the one he sees.

There is a lesson in here, somewhere.