How was pasta invented? I mean, seriously? Who ground up some grains, looked at it and said, “I bet we could add water, make this into funny shapes, then boil it and eat it!!” I mean, was the need this satisfied?
Category: Ponderings
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Where is it written that people have an inherent right to not be offended?
I’d hazard a guess to say that it’s not and that it’s not a right at all. Life sucks sometimes, and offensive shit happens. You choose to be offended or not in many respects, and you can also choose to remove yourself from a situation that is causing that reaction.
So, what gives? Why and how has this supposed “right” become a thing in general, and so widely accepted at that? I am just curious.
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I prefer darkness to light.
This applies to light in the environment, humor, colors, and even mood. A certain level of darkness can prompt amazing thoughts and thought processes. It allows you to consider a side of things that “normal” people don’t.
I prefer dim lighting to bright lighting. There is just something about pre-dawn, dusk, and nighttime light levels that just calls to me. For the record, I hate driving at those times for various reasons, but they call to me mentally and emotionally, nonetheless. Given the choice, I go for warm, dim lighting. I do not like bright, cool light like you find in hospitals or the bright ass LED headlights. One of my favorite lights in the house when I was a kid was this lamp in the living room that had a special lightbulb that was turned on in stages, the third being the brightest. Even when reading, I would use the first level, and my mom and grandmother constantly gave me shit about that.
I enjoy dark humor. Laughing at mistakes, mishaps or just completely fucked up scenarios? That’s my thing. That’s how I function and manage to maintain what little sanity I have left. I have laughed at myself, shit I’ve done, or my situation countless times, because, why not? Laughing lowers stress levels, releases endorphins, endorphins reduce pain (both mental and physical), and help you focus on what needs to be done once the moment passes. Might as well feel good for a moment before diving back into the shit, right?
I prefer dark colors, blue and purple are my favorites. I love black, of course, but that’s not a color. I love gray too, but the darker slate type gray. And in general, I don’t do pink. I have owned one pink piece of clothing in my adult life, and it was a shirt that said, “oh crap, you’re gonna try and cheer me up now, aren’t you?” And this doesn’t just apply to wardrobe. My decor tends to be dark colors, as do my computer and phone screens. Even designing spreadsheets or presentations for work, I tend to opt for blues and grays. Sadly, I work for a company whose logo is bright fucking orange, so I can’t escape bright colors entirely in my professional life.
Now, the part that many people will take issue with – dark moods. This isn’t to say that we should all go around miserable and unhappy. Quite the contrary, actually. All I’m saying here is that moods that aren’t just sunshine and smiles and butterflies are preferrable to me, and feel more real in a way. Yes, I like to smile, and be happy and silly. But, I cherish those quiet, introspective moods, which most people perceive as dark or bad. I’m also building a relationship with my anger, and learning to put it to good use. Introspection, anger, even sadness can be powerful, provocative forces and inspire some truly amazing things. Most of my best artwork and writing was born during these types of moods. I prefer these moods because they fuel my mind and my inspiration, and that is something I truly enjoy, and it makes me happy at the end of the day.
I don’t know that this really had a point when I started writing, I was just inspired by something someone said to me, and decided to elucidate (to myself mostly) what their comment made me think of. If darkness makes you happy, embrace it. If you prefer light, embrace that. In either case, I think it’s important to embrace whatever makes you happy, regardless of if people understand it or not. They don’t have to. It’s your life.
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I saw something the other day that reminded me of the movie Multiplicity, and couldn’t help but wonder…. What would I do if I had a clone?
Now, of course, the movie included some interesting caveats – each clone had a… specialty, I guess? Certain elements of the original being that were heightened – work focus, family focus, whatever. But. What if, in this situation, for hypothetical purposes, the clone was an exact copy of me at the time of the clone’s creation? Would do and say exactly as I would in any given situation? What would I do if I could perfectly duplicate my existence for everyone impacted? And, let’s add in the additional condition that I gain/retain the memory of both me and the clone, so I don’t technically miss out on any given experience, I just don’t have to endure said experience myself. My clone would retain both sets of information as well, for continuity.
Now, if all these conditions were true, and I could gain the experience and insight of my clone’s activities, but still be off doing something else? Holy shit, batman! Bonus life! I would spend all of my time reading and writing, and let my clone experience humanity and the world for me, drawing on this experience for said writing… I mean, how perfect can hypothetical circumstances be?? It would basically be the ability to be in two places at once. I am very intrigued by this idea.
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I think everyone should have one of these. A list of things you absolutely *must* do, achieve, or experience before you die.
Here are some of the items on my list:
- See the aurora borealis.
- Visit Sandia Crest, NM.
- Skydive.
- Pet a cheetah/tiger/lion or other big cat and listen to them purr.
- Preferably a cheetah, as from what I’ve read, they are the most timid, and therefore and least likely to eat my face while I’m still using it.
- See a wild wolf and look it in the eye.
- Hold/raise/feed a big cat kitten or a wolf pup.
- See a white buffalo in the wild.
- See Alaska and/or a glacier.
- See a night sky from the middle of nowhere and catch a glimpse of how amazing the night sky could be if not for humans.
- Sidebar – see a lunar eclipse on said night of star gazing from the middle of nowhere.
- Determine – with an acceptable degree of certainty – that a single theory I have or have had about the universe is correct. Or, alternatively, determine, with the same degree of certainty, that one of them is incorrect. In any case, I want to know.
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Anxiety is a very real thing for some people, and I’m talking about the type of thing that goes far beyond normal anxious stress about things. This does not refer to the butterflies before a big presentation at work, or the sweaty palms when meeting your crush for dinner. What I’m talking about is the crippling, terror inducing anxiety that effectively renders you useless for any activity that requires rational thought.
I have dealt with that feeling, I have struggled with those kinds of racing, chaotic thoughts that feel like they’re simply going to come flying out of your head for all the world to see and criticize and ridicule. Or that sometimes, feel like they are going to split your head in two and leave you a twitching, spineless pile of goo on the floor. Speaking of, that thought reminds of me of the backpiece I started designing years ago. It is a self-portrait. I am screaming, hands clutching the skin falling off my face as my skull is splitting open and the entire universe is rushing out of the top of my head. I need to get back into drawing again and finish that piece and get it started on skin….
Anyway, I had a point here. Back to that.
I have gotten to a point where I can sometimes use my anxiety as a weapon against itself. For example, at work. I have a tendency to double, triple, quadruple check things. This, of course, is inefficient, and led to missed deadlines and late nights and arguments with my husband and exhaustion and stress and burnout. So, being the problem solver that I am, I asked myself, how can I satisfy my need to check things, but still deliver quality work on time? Simple, really. Do smaller checks more often during the project. Take a firm, concise mental note of each verification, and move on. It really does sound simple, and it really is that simple, but it is hard as hell to see that simplicity when you’re in the middle of a compulsive, anxiety ridden episode. But once you get a feel for it, and more so, learn to trust yourself enough, it really does work. It provides the comfort of checking something multiple times, but it is built into your process, so takes less time than doing multiple big checks at the end, highlighting problems during the project so they can be fixed with less effort.
For a long time, I struggled with OCD. I still have my moments, don’t get me wrong. But one mental health professional told me once, with regard to my obsession for checking things – locks, the stove, the dogs, whatever – take a picture. Literally, take a picture of what you’ve checked with your phone. It will have a timestamp, and is available if you start spiraling downward to remind you that you did what you should have done, even when your mind is screaming that you need to check it yet again. I got to the point that I could take a mental picture of whatever, and be ok. Mind you, this is progression from a written list with checks, circles, boxes and Xs to denote my checks before leaving the house, which would sometimes take upwards of an hour. And now, I take a mental picture, and most times, am fine.
I believe that any problem has a solution, and that any difficulty can be turned on its head and used as a tool. Can’t sleep? Use that time to be productive and reduce your stress level the following day. Can’t focus? Go for a walk, get your steps in, and a change of scenery. Can’t think straight? Draw, or do some stream of consciousness writing. Capitalize on whatever the difficulty is.
And if all else fails, remember to just breathe.
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My aunt lost her husband last year. This post is for her.
Grieving someone means that you go through the five stages of grief, in no particular order, and any number of times for each stage. These stages include:
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Accptance
Now, these stages can take turns – it’s not at all a linear progression. You can be in the depression stage, and go right back to denial. Or be comfortable in the bargaining stage, jump to acceptance, and go right back anger. Sometimes, you can be in multiple stages in a single moment. It is a process, and it fucking sucks. Everyone’s timeline is different, everyone’s process is different, and there is nothing at all wrong with how anyone grieves. Unless of course, we’re talking about thoughts of mass murder, or ritualistic sacrifice of pets…..that may require a therapist or even a hiatus in a mental ward. But, I digress.
Grief is an emotional process with identifiable stages. It may be a process that never truly ends, but it is something that can heal to an extent. A teacher of mine in high school told me after my father passed that the hole in my chest would never heal completely, but it would close a bit with time.
Missing someone is related, but completely different. There are no stages – you feel the impact of that person’s absence in so many ways. You crave their presence, their smile, their voice, their mannerisms, their idiosyncrasies. You miss literally everything about them. You think you hear or see them in daily life even though you know they are gone. You are flat out sad and empty without them. There is no healing when it comes to missing someone. It simply becomes a part of your existence, a permanent ache in your soul.
But the thing to remember is that this person loved you, and they want you to live life to the fullest, even without them. They will see you on the other side, and will want to hear all about your adventures after they had to leave.
So. with that in mind – and I say this to myself, my aunt, and anyone else who is missing and or grieving for someone – go forth, be adventurous, do your thing – have something interesting to talk about when you see that loved one again, not just how you spent the rest of your life sad because they had things to do elsewhere.
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There is a Rage Against the Machine song called Freedom that includes, in a quiet moment of the song, the words, “anger is a gift”. This is so true, and I have experienced the subjective truth of that today.
I have been stressing lately; life has just been throwing one ridiculous curveball after another. I was at my breaking point. Another curveball is lobbed my way and smacks me in the nose. I got pissed. I was white hot, livid. I don’t usually get like that. Ever. I mean, the dogs were walking slowly around me with their ears back and heads down because, I imagine, the rage was actually palpable. I put in my headphones and started blasting some angry music while taking care of what needed to be done, stewing in my hatred for life at this point. 10 minutes…. 20 minutes…. An hour has gone by now, and I feel calmer than I have in weeks. I apologized to the dogs and told them I love them.
I suppose there is something to be said for actually sitting with your emotions for a while and just letting them exist without trying to just make them stop or go away. Let them have the life they want. Yes, it can suck, but an hour of sitting with my anger is far better than the weeks of misery and anxiety I’ve spent trying to suppress it and pretend it didn’t exist.
That said, today, anger was a gift. And some days, so too are sadness and fear. I think the key is to sit with them – let them exist – and then, take inventory of what you have to work with and move on with what needs to be done once their visit is over.
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Who were your favorite and least favorite characters from this movie? And I’m talking about from the original animated Disney film, not the more recent live action version, which I haven’t seen. I ask because something I saw this morning reminded me of the croquet game they played, and of course, my mind spiraled down the proverbial rabbit hole, which is, actually, rather appropriate for this train of thought.
Anyway, I imagine a lot of women would say that when they were little girls, Alice was their favorite character, and maybe they changed their mind later in life, but I didn’t think that way. I was fascinated by the Cheshire Cat. He was always smiling, and seemed to speak in riddles. Why was he always smiling? And why couldn’t he just say whatever he wanted to say? He was, to me, a puzzle to solve. I would rewind the movie and watch the scenes with him over and over trying to figure it out.
My least favorite character was probably the Mad Hatter. He was mean to Alice, though in a different way than the Queen of Hearts. With her, you knew what to expect. He seemed nice at times, but other times was just rude and…. icky. I’m sure there’s a better word for it, but thinking about it from a childhood perspective, that’s all I can come up with. He made things confusing in a frustrating fashion, asking questions and never letting Alice answer, then getting mad when she got upset. I did, however, enjoy the idea of celebrating un-birthdays.
That’s all. Just a dose of Saturday randomness. Back to studying now!
Have a great weekend!
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I think we need some different words for “friend”.
A long time ago, a friend of mine, who I’ve since grown distant from, told me that the ancient Greeks had several words for love, to describe the different qualities of love that you have for someone. You love your significant other in one way, your grandmother in another, and yourself in yet another. There are actually 8 in total, and this includes the love that you have for yourself.
I think we need the same type of delineation for friends and/or friendship.
For example. There are friends that you have that you hang out with occasionally, share some details about your life with. There are friends that you have, say at work or at school, where you don’t really hang out, but you share the commonality of being at work or school together, and you hang out there, maybe commiserate a bit and share certain snippets of your life with them. Then, you have your close friends, who know a hell of a lot more than any of your other friends about you, your past, your current life. And then, you have that very close person, or maybe two people, who know everything and would do anything for you. They would give you money, no questions asked and with no expectation of repayment. They would watch (and you would trust them to watch) your kids or your pets. They would help you dispose of a body if you needed it, and then go out for drinks after like it was any other random Tuesday. Your true ride or die.
The only word we have in English for any of these people is “friend”, but some of them just barely meet the criteria, and others go above and beyond by lightyears. Why is it, then that we do not differentiate?
A Peculiar Cerebral Tangle 