I totally dig my selfauthority, but here are things I’ve been reminiscing from yesteryear:
cannonballs
lack of bills
laying on the floor not being conceived as weird
someone else stocking the fridge
again, cannonballs. come ON.
living in pajamas until you have to go somewhere. ok nevermind I still do that.
shucking corn on the porch and then napping until dinner was ready
having a dishwasher
Random thought of the morning: we spend so much – too much – time looking at computer screens, tv, movies, video games, blah blah etc etc you get the point. But, the universal reaction of humans (and even a lot of animals) is to CLOSE THE EYES when something is awesome to the senses other than sight.
Think about it.
Amazing smell of your favorite dish – close your eyes and inhale.
Wow-wow taste of favorite dish – close your eyes and drool.
Smell of the ocean and feel of the sun – close your eyes and lay back on the beach.
Getting a massage – close your eyes and drool.
Embrace of a loved one – close your eyes and… please don’t drool while returning it.
Hearing great music – show me one concert where there’s not people with their eyes shut swaying or dancing
Maybe with so much attention to being completely “visually steamrolled” in our culture, our souls still realize the need to shut off our vision in order to get some other type of memory. And maybe we don’t realize it, but we remember better with our other senses.
What is our vision but one fifth of our possible interaction with everything in our world? (…and outside it?)
I don’t know about you but I’m going to go smell some grass and feel a book in my hands today. So long.
7. Mr. Treeface
Hey Mr. Treeface,
Dearest Mr. Treeface,
Thou livest outsideth my window,
Sneering on these summer days
“I am outside, Captive Human!”
Fine, great, good, whatevereth,
Laugheth thyself well now,
For the last laugheth I shall have
Come this winter’s ninety-three inches of snoweth.
8. There is a Beeping
There is a beeping,
Four times it beeps.
There is a beeping,
About every four seconds.
Four beeps each four seconds
Four beeps each four seconds
Four beeps each four seconds
Four beeps each four seconds
Four beeps each four seconds
Four beeps each four seconds
Nevermind, it stopped.
4. The Wind
The wind whispers
shhhhhhhhhhhh
Like I am some untrained child
Picking my nose and babbling
During the philharmonic concert.
5. My Adrenal Glands
My adrenal glands, they sit
hither on top of my kidneys.
My adrenal glands, they work
….. a little.
My adrenal glands, they are sad
because I have been drowning in stress for years.
My adrenal glands, they like yoga
specifically long back bends.
My adrenal glands, dear adrenal glands,
I hope we will be friends again,
because you two are pretty freaking essential for life.
6. Woodchuck
How much wood
could a woodchuck chuck
if chuck was even an appropriate verb to apply to wood?
I am not a poet. But I get a really good laugh out of bad poetry. And since I have a blog, and am blogging on said blog, I obviously have some time on my hands to make, oh… say… bad poetry?
1. My Life
My life is like a
s c a t t e r
of bones
laying about
as if
to remind me of
that time,
that time when
my brother
DEMOLISHED
some crappy thing I built
out of U n sT urD Y
materials.
2. Bad Poetry
I have something to say, for I am mad.
Who is to say that a poem is bad?
A poem is but a spout of happy or sad.
So if rhythm or meter I have not,
Is this prose that I’ve got?
“Maybe,” you say? Well, thanks a lot.
3. Ode to Legos and Fig Newtons
Oh sweet colorful box,
Ones, twos, threes, fours,
And the double-rows with your fatness,
What shall we build today?
You tell me, please,
For I have the
—PONY—Attention span
of a —SHINY— small gnat-like
flea-intelligent —HOT PANTS!—
…
Forgive me, I have forgotten why we were talking about fig newtons.
How about you stop adding widgets to my blog, eh? I don’t want to have to come here all the time and keep removing them. There were FOUR unauthorized ones today.
I will never Twitter, so don’t even add that to my page without asking thanks. I was offended by that one.
And why will I never use Twitter? I could go on for years. But this Statshot from The Onion sort of sums it up.
Damaged Goods (noun):
-Someone who was once healthy and/or normal but isn’t anymore due to unfortunate, traumatic events in his/her life (UD)
-a person considered to be flawed or spoiled in character, efficiency, or worth (MW)
Apparently now, our employers can pass judgement within minutes of meeting us on our entire life and health. Bonus.
Oh, I am Damaged Goods for Hire. Got anything? Because now my finances are totally screwed. Thanks to above listed judgement of others.
Oh, people. You never quit! I know we’ve all gotten emails with these weird newspaper clippings, but they just seriously crack me up. Here’s the latest batch… enjoy!
Here it is, my last night in this town, this state… this life. I can’t decide if it came too fast or too slow.
But it IS, and that’s all that matters.
It has been a spectacular week with friends and closing out my activities here. Sometimes holding back tears like when I left the horse farm, determined to even remember the smell of the gravel drive… but mostly lots of hugs and promises of updates. Probably the most hugs per day of my entire life for the whole week.
It has really hit me how many people have said, “wow I’d never move somewhere where I don’t know anyone” or “I’d never move that far.” I don’t really consider either of those issues in the least.
That is where I am supposed to be.
My depression has been torn away and nice fresh hilarity resurfaced.
Everything has fallen neatly in to place in the past few months.
I am supposed to be there now. Not earlier, as much as I wanted that. Now.
And for those reasons, I am not just going, I am BEING SENT.
THIS IS HOW WE OVERCOME
