Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.
My favorite pair of shoes was my Doc Martins. Steel toe, real learher, and durable as hell. Those boots carried me through two and a half of years of my college career, several breakups, and were on my feet when i walked in the door at my current company.
Snow? No problem. rain? Bring it on. Walkin all day on city streets or hiking in the woods? Comfort maintained. Versatility to the max!
I realized something this morning.
I woke up and laid in bed just thinking. I love to sing, always have. Something about the power of voice to carry the emotion and soul in its musical counterpart. That energetic interplay and how, when you get it just right, you feel that raw emotional power radiating from your being…. I love it.
Now, to be clear. I don’t sing in front of people for various reasons, but i sing all the time when i’m alone. The fact of the matter is simple.
It’s important to do the things that ignite your soul.
My dogs howl.
Specifically, they howl when a fire truck is going by, and my thought is that instinctually, they are hearing a ‘call’ and are helping the cause. lol
Anyway, because of this thought, i always thank them when they keep going after the fire truck as passed. i thank them, pet them, and tell them that they are so helpful.
last night, i was in the shower. a fire truck went by, and on cue, the dogs start howling. and they kept going. and going. I had to open the door from the shower and call out to them to thank them. they stopped almost immediately.
Cutest. Fucking. Thing. Ever.
What do you complain about the most?
I try not to complain too much. Most people have their own shit to worry about, and i have no desire to perpetuate negative energy. I would rather do something to fix the situation.
I mean, some bad days necessitate a little bitch fest, but i see that as emotional regulation. i don’t have any right to bitch for more than a minute or two about something that i’m doing nothing to change or deal with.
That said, a couple of things i do complain about:
Aside from the fact that it’s just a fun word (like duodenum!), I find that i am completely comfortable and actually satisfied with the circular reference used to define this word.
Doodle is self-explanatory.
Doodle is self-evident.
Doodle rocks as a word and an activity, and should be encouraged!
That is all. Carry on.
Have you ever been distracted by a food?
i got some green grapes the other day, and they’re now in the fridge cuz… cold grapes rock. Anyway, i grabbed a handful after work and started snacking, thinking about the shit i then had to go do. they tasted so good! i got some more….
Completely bypassed my to do list for a good five minutes because of the sweet crispy juicy fabulousness that is fresh grapes.
Kinda rude, but i’m ok with it. i won’t hold a grudge against grapes for that.
I wonder sometimes what it would be like if we had no real idea what the weather was going to be…
If we still depended on old sayings—red sky in the morning, sailors take warning—instead of hour-by-hour forecasts that are mostly wrong beyond the next little stretch of time.
If we actually had to listen to nature to get a sense of what was coming.
Animals can feel this kind of shit before it happens. They don’t question it, they simply act accordingly. There’s no reason we couldn’t too, if we remembered what to look for. We wouldn’t have precision, but we might have awareness. And in most cases…. what does precision get us past an unearned sense of urgency?
And can you imagine what it would be like to live without sensationalist storm coverage? Without mobbed stores right before a storm?
If we just maintained a quiet, baseline readiness—so that a 36-hour snowstorm meant clearing roads and driveways, not collective panic—because everyone understood that nature has the right of way. Always.
What makes a good leader?
Effective communication and kindness.
You ever have one of those Fridays after a long, hard week and you sit down to relax and it just feels so good not to be doing for a moment? You start looking forward to the other ways you’ll relax this weekend, and it hits you….
It’s only fucking Tuesday.
Mother fucker.
I love those conversations that just grab you and take you all over the place. you start out talking about normal shit, and an hour later you’re on to self-sacrifice, and the origin of time. an hour after that, you’re discussing the feasibility of raccoon speech and which sense you would give up if you had to choose one. and then ending the evening with a debate about trees (or any plant) having a soul.
That kinda shit makes my soul sing.
A Peculiar Cerebral Tangle 