“A balanced and humane, sexually healthy, well-educated, spiritually empowered nation has no need to gorge itself on poisons, no need to bloat itself and add massive layers of enormous flabby cushioning (mental or physical) to its body in order to protect itself from the violence of the world and the shrill ignorance of its warmongering leaders..”
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Today we picked up the newest additions to our ever-expanding zoo – two spiny mice who have, as of this moment, not been named. Although we adopted only two, I believe it is quite likely that these two will shortly become seventeen, despite both of them being female and despite my husband’s assurances that one of them is “just a little pudgy” and not already pregnant. Yup, uh huh. These are my husband’s pets; I shall be like their distant Aunt, swinging by with a surprise snack once in a while.
This brings the current animal count to:
“Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transcience, we suffer.” – D. T. Suzuki
For breakfast this morning, we had Monikakes – pronounced, “Mon-ick-cakes” – which are pancakes cooked on the griddle that my friend Monika gave us when we got married. Monikakes are very very yummy, fluffy and taste very good with blueberry/grape jam spread on them. Much better than regular ol’ pancakes, ’cause they’re all about the loooooove. :-)
You cannot go wrong by playing any of Queen’s greatest hits CDs.
A while ago, while playing Tetris with my husband, I had this sudden ‘premonition’ that William Shatner was going to die. Or already had. We had to pause the game so that I could go and check Google news.
I have a near obsessive paranoia about static electricity. More specifically, the resulting ‘shocks’ that attack me all winter and much of spring and fall.
As a child, I could tolerate a single rub of a balloon on my head in order to watch it ‘stick’ to the wall, but more than a swipe or two would make me freak out about the new static in my hair. I wasn’t much fun at parties then, either. And my hair is quite frequently filled with static, being as it’s thin and wispy. Every item of clothing I wear in the winter adds another layer of static-creation to my body. Every sweater passes over my head and christens me with electricity.
I am the queen of the “visible shock” – whereby someone several feet away shouts, “WOW!” when they see the spark of light fly from your fingertip to the metal object. It’s always a loud crack, rather than the quiet ‘snaps’ I hear from other people I meet in heavily-carpeted offices. It doesn’t help that getting shocked causes me to blurt out profanities, either, let me tell you.
I have been silently observed by very important people at very important companies as I haphazardly hip-check a metal filing cabinet in order to have my hips absorb the inevitable shock instead of my delicate fingertips. My boss frequently saw me approach his closed office door (with the big, shiny metal doorknob) and witnessed me tilting over to touch the doorknob with my bicep because my hip was too short, even on tiptoes. I’d take my slightly-muted-by-my-arm-fat shock, stand up straight again, and walk through the door as though nothing strange had happened. That’s how ingrained my “shocks are never good” feelings are. Avoid at all costs.
I mention this because my husband keeps insisting that I need to “lick the battery”. Despite my hope to the contrary, that’s not a sexual innuendo for something new he found on the internet. He seriously wants me to lick a battery so that I can – and here’s where he loses me – “enjoy the tingle of electricity on the tongue“.
Does that seemed fucked up to anyone else? Or is it just me?
Still I Rise
by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
D says:
Sometimes I wish I could just peel off every single layer of upbringing, experience, conditioning – and see what I’m actually like as a human being.
(the person she’s talking to) says:
maybe that is what you are trying to accomplish
D says:
The problem is that I am inherently uncomfortable with *me* when I’m left alone with myself. I don’t trust my actions, reactions, thoughts…
(the person she’s talking to) says:
i have the opposite problem
(the person she’s talking to) says:
i dont trust anyone else!
D says:
And I ultimately trust everyone else too much, too soon! I assume they know, better than I do, what’s right and wrong.
Before taking someone’s advice, always question: where is this person coming from?
Someone who’s successful in the area that you seek assistance with will reassure you that it will work out, because for them, it did. They know it can happen, and they believe it will for you too. They shrug off the negativity with nary a thought, and say things like, “Why worry? It will be fine.”
Conversely, a person who is miserable will tell you that the world is ending and that you’d be stupid not to panic – even a little hangnail on your thumb serves to remind them of the gangrene that cost them their hand. They can be very compelling in their admonishment, too, because it’s vivid for them.
And both people mean well.
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