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.
Laura took a bite of her dinner.
Mom always yelled at me to not bring books to the dinner table...
Laura smiled, pulled out her phone and started her latest audiobook.
Look Ma, no books!
Laura giggled to herself and continued eating.
I want to apologize in advance to anyone who expected profound musings based on the title. This is not the post you’re looking for; this is funny and retarded and silly.
Ya know what it’s like running around doing things in the house or whatever and you just wrap up three of them back to back? How you sit down, resting for a minute while you wait for coffee to brew or water for tea to boil?
And then you remember.
‘I forgot to start the thing didn’t I?’
Listening for indications yields nothing, but you were really looking forward to that coffee, so you haul your tired ass up and go check.
Mother fucker.
You forgot.
Doesn’t that fucking suck?
So, sometimes the boys (Frik and Frak) forget that they no longer have testicles or a need to mark their territory, and they mark Sandy while she’s peeing. This happened this afternoon, and Sandy came over to me lookin for comfort. Here’s how the conversation went:
“Rororo!”
“I know, Sandy, the boys are the worst! Boys are gross!”
“Awoo! Rororo. Ruf!”
(I stand up to let them back in and grab paper towels,)
“Absolutely! They’re gross and mean and rude!”
“Bark! Bark!”
“I know, it’s terrible”
“Bark!”
“I know, it’s ok. C’mon, let’s go get you cleaned up…”
“Roro ruff”
😉
We hope you have enjoyed this glimpse of randomness!
Actual conversation with one of my dogs:
*Frak jumps on me as i sit at the desk working, scratching my arm and almost ripping my bracelet off in the process*
Me: Ow! Dude, that hurt!
Frak: Ruff!
Me: You’re violent, sometimes, ya know that?
Frak: Ruff! Awoo! Awoooooooo!
Me: So you wanting to go out when i’m busy working gives you the right to abuse me?
Frak: Awoo! Ruff!
Frickin dogs, man…. lol
I have been asked any number of times if there is something i collect. My answers are usually, “not really” or “travel cups”. i don’t know that i have ever answered truthfully. But only because i didn’t realize it myself….
Granted, the goal is to fill them, but the fact remains:
I collect notebooks.
I have big ones, medium ones, small ones. Hard cover, soft cover, sans cover. i have a hand bound leather notebook (journal).
I have had favorite notebooks, i have had notebooks that i wanted to love, but couldn’t stand using….
This collection will never go for millions at a “notebook collector’s auction”, but it, and the pieces of me that decorate the pages, are priceless.
I wrote this post a while back, and I just realized something. Third person takes the meaning out of things. The emotion.
I asked in the post what this habit stems from, and the answer is now so clear. People speak about themselves in the third person sometimes to shield themselves from the emotions and meaning behind what they are talking about. They don’t realize at the time that that’s what they are doing, but still. Think about it…
Is it easier to say, “He feels overwhelmed because of X, Y, Z” or “She feels isolated because of A, B, C” or to say that you, yourself feel some way because of some circumstance?
Our brains can manipulate our use of language on a subconscious level in an effort to protect us, or itself.
The brain and mind really are fascinating.
Uncertainty is a mathematical thing. Math is the language of the physical. The physical creates emotions, which in turn, influence the physical. Where does the mind fall – thoughts? Thoughts can impact the physical and vice versa. Do thoughts fall somewhere between, serving as a bridge between the physical and the emotional? Are we our thoughts, or something separate? Words are the language of the emotional. Words are physical. They say that words can hurt. Math speaks about the physical world to the emotional, the emotional world speaks to the mental world with words. Physical = math. Emotional = words. Thoughts are the how. What is truly the distinction between mental and emotional? If the difference is the presence of rationale, then math or logic has to be its language. I keep seeing a triangle in my mind. Flow charts too. Thoughts impact the emotional. Physical – MATH -> Emotional – WORDS -> Mental – LOGIC. Math transforms the physical into emotional, words translate the emotional into thoughts, and logic transforms thoughts into the physical. There is a bigger thought here. If I am not my body, then we can also infer that I am not my emotions, and I am not my thoughts. I am aware of and separate from all three. Awareness. Awareness is the only element that exists without translation or transformation. That is what I am.
Almost everyone in the world has heard of a person being a “jack of all trades”, but I have actually heard it expanded. I don’t know what the original is or who wrote it. It’s something like – and I’m paraphrasing here – “a jack of all trades and a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one”
Generalism as a word is actually not found in the Merriam-Webster dictionary, though generalist is. An internet search for generalism gives you articles on medicine, ethics, a few on butterflies of all things, and random definitions – all of which basically state that generalism is the practice of not specializing your knowledge base.
I have come to realize that I am a generalist. I know tidbits about a lot of different things, but I am not necessarily an expert in anything. I am ok with that. I truly believe that knowing more about many different things is better than knowing everything about one particular thing. It opens your mind to possibilities, to relationships between things. I know now that being stuck in a certain area of knowledge – like medicine or physics or finance – wouldn’t be enough for me. Yes, it would be riveting and fascinating, but still somehow….. not fulfilling. And that I am not ok with.
I love nighttime. I think I always have.
There’s just something about the fact that the world is sleeping, resting, whatever. it’s quiet. There is no activity really. It’s peaceful. And I feel like I can be or do or feel anything that I want or need, and there is no one around to judge me.
I remember one time when I was a kid… I’m not even sure how old I was. Late teens, maybe? I was in Massachusetts visiting my uncle, and he has a pool. It was summertime, and I went out to the pool at about 10 at night, put on some music, and just did laps in the pool. It was so relaxing.
Speaking of, I love to swim. The feeling of water all around me is just so comforting. I hate wearing a bathing suit, because – well, insecure female – but yeah. I love it once I’m in the water. I swam in a local river once, that was freaking cool.
Anyway, this is just a bunch of random things to say that I love nighttime. and bodies of water. So yeah. Carry on!
A Peculiar Cerebral Tangle 