Ok, so I was sitting on the sofa, remote in hand, WATCHING workout videos...
But they were belly dancing workout videos... And Neena and Veena were EVER so entertaining...
(Their website is www.bellytwins.com!! C'mon!!)
No?
(sigh)
I'm SO much more ambitious when I'm out shopping than when it's actually time to work out...
And getting caught in the rain... but how does that change the fact that you snuck around behind my back?? Oh ok, so I did the same thing, who am I to judge; but does that mean I'm just gonna laugh and take you back?? I don't think so!!
C'mon people, that song just does NOT make sense...
I mean really... what is it with songs that would in reality most likely get you slapped around with a live tuna or even arrested (yes I'm talking to YOU Carrie Underwood!!)??
Songs that you listen to and go 'What??'
Seriously... Annie Lenox, you're a total diva and I love you with all my heart (who else could make an orange crew-cut sexy?) but I'd have left the floor dirty for God's sake!!
(Why yes I WAS listening to the 80s flashback something or other, why do you ask?)
Anyway... shouldn't songs make sense? I mean, how am I supposed to relate the song to my personal experience (yes it's all about me) if I'd have to be slightly deranged to have an experience like that?
Where are the songs that make complete and perfect sense? Like Sledgehammer?
To order GIANORMOUS pizzas when it's only me in this hotel room and the refigerator is the size of a shoe box (and already stuffed with shoes... er... tiny overpriced bottles of bad liquor)????
I mean really...
To have the ability to pull all the shiny levers without having to deal with the pomp and circumstance...
Now that would be cool...
What? Oh never mind... I'm not REALLY gonna do it... (Don't pay any attention to little ol' me...)
:D
If you didn't recognize your face (lets pretend for a minute :) ), could you pick yourself out of a crowd? Would you recognize your style, your 'type'? Would you even be able to find the category others might place you in if you had to? Would you recognize the 'crowd' you're instinctively drawn to?
I spent a glorioious yesterday afternoon wandering around the campus of UofM. It was sunny and beautiful and as it is nearing the end of the term there were people outside everywhere moving or studying or strolling or just enjoying spring.
As I wandered around eating ice cream and generally not hurrying I watched the people, paying attention to their clothes, mannerisms, 'styles'. I recognized many, thinking 'jock', 'punk' (cool socks), 'sorority girl' (ok that was easy she was wearing the t-shirt), 'starving artist', 'angst-filled soul searcher', 'former angst-filled soul searcher now responsible adult', and even 'eccentric professor pretending to be homeless person' (ok I was clued in on that one).
And as is generally the case, different 'types' tended to group together... Punks with punks, frat boys with frat boys and so on and so on and so on... Which makes sense I suppose. Because people use these things, these 'styles', these modes of dress to gather clues about how people will behave and react, to determine who they feel comfortable approaching...
And that made me think about whether I'd recognize my 'type'. I mean I know what I like, what I find interesting, what I might aspire to... But have I really succeeded? Do I really project the characteristics I think I do?
What would I look like if I could see me without knowing it's me?
photo by Diana Reiss from 'Dolphin Self-Recognition Mirrors Our Own'
I mean really... they have a responsibility... they should adopt standards...
How about mitochondria? Do they worry about cellular warming?
Whoever thought of the thought experiment was a genius! GENIUS I tell you! To set your mind on a path and follow it down to it's logical (or not) conclusion... and then to flash back and go down an alternate path and another and another...
And then if you can articulate the experiment and it's outcome in such a way that you have made someone think differently than before... now THAT is something... heh
As a kid I spent a lot of time (when I wasn't reading the backs of cereal boxes) doing something my mother called 'day dreaming' or 'pretending'... Spinning strange thoughts in my head like...
If you could SEE the way you HEAR... What would it LOOK LIKE? (Would the highway slide up across your windshield like rain as you drove, blending in with the faces of the people behind you?)
They made me stay up too late, move too slow, and take too long to do the mundane things I was SUPPOSED to be doing (like eating breakfast or doing the dishes)... And sharing my strange thoughts generally garnered me strange looks and so... I learned to keep them to myself... And though I took to carrying around a pad of paper (homework, HOMEWORK people) or keeping my nose buried in a book... My swirling thoughts never stopped...
So when I came across my first reference to the thought experiement, probably while reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet, I was thrilled to think that this could actually be a legitimate passtime... Something that grown people might use to actually solve problems... And that thought... like the habit of travelling around in my head, has stayed with me... And although I'll admit, I often do it out of silliness or just for fun, I often use the technique in professional settings to solve real problems...
Though I usually say something like 'Lets just PRETEND for a minute...'
:D
There was a bunny in my back yard sitting very still... close to my french doors...
I noticed as I was walking to wherever and I stopped in my tracks...
I live in the 'burbs (Stepford if you must know), so a bunny is not a bizarre occurance, but neither is it a regular thing... I see them every once in a great while and they hop away as soon as they catch me watching them...
So when I saw this one I stood stock still... It was so close I could see it's whiskers moving just the slightest bit... It looked straight at me, but still it didn't run away... I was contemplating whether I could slink off and get my camera when I noticed... On the far side of the lawn...
A cat... hiding in my flower bed...
Watching the bunny watch me...
Caught between a rock and a very hard place... Pinned by fear with me on one side and the cat on the other...
And the cat, well she just waited... Biding her time...
I played the watching game for a few minutes and then decided that this was not Mutual of Omaha and I had no compunction against interfering with the Wild Kindom...
So I opened to door and stepped outside tipping the weight of fear firmly to my side of the yard...
The cat was pissed...
That it suddenly made you afraid that you'd shared too much?
That you've just given away some pieces of yourself that you will never get back again?
What if they don't take proper care of them? What if they turn on the bright lights and realize just what it is they're holding? What if they drop them in horror and run screaming from the room?
What then?
What could I say to all the people who lost their babies yesterday?
What would I say to the friend who's long-distance lover was in a serious car crash on the other side of the planet?
What should I say when someone asks how we can say we care at all when there is so much death and violence in other parts of the world?
There's so much to do... and so little ability to do it that it can seem overwhelming and useless...
Still I'll add my own tiny drop of consciousness where I can...
Knowing it won't be enough...
Water not too hot...
Use a chopstick to stir the 'slurry' and watch it 'bloom'
Now set the timer... Four minutes isn't so long...
Now press... slowly slowly...
Good china cups... a good splash of cream...
Heaven...
Except that I think it would get really tedious...
For me...
Because there I would be in all my God-ness... and there you all would be...
Wondering what's in it for you...
Because really... that's the only reason people do anything right?
So I'd have to come up with all these complicated (and compelling) reasons why you doing what I want for ME is really in YOUR best interests... And lets face it... I'm a little behind the 8-ball on that one...
Unless I can come up with something you really want... and convince you that only I can provide it...
Gotta get to work on that one...
In the meantime... you might want to sign up on this pre-join wait list... Space is limited you know... And this offer won't be around forever...
SO act now... before it's TOO LATE...
When the emotions swell up so full into my throat that it feels like I will never be able to breathe again...
And in the eternity between forgetting how to breathe and remembering again, I struggle to find the words to describe it... that thing that I can at last lay my hands on...
And then... as always... it fades again into black
I hate that! Why do I even own blue socks?? Why do I even own blue socks that look black in the dark? Why do I get dressed in the dark? Why am I asking questions of the internet? (And no I'm not going to discuss the color of my underwear (I know how you are)...)
*not my socks... not even the color of my socks... color enhanced to accentuate stupidity...photo: originally uploaded by autoscopia
Hangs around my neck... a tiny black stone heavier than light...
Hung from a glittering melodramatic chain...
Making me feel like I should don a track suit which matches my adidas shoes...
Before I slide down the hill and into the lake...
When I'm in dallas there's a fabulous sushi place I love to go to...
And today I was feeling brave... So I ordered 'Baby Octopus'...
Now I'm not sure what I THOUGHT I was ordering... But what I got was this:
Actually it was even more frightening than the above, as the creatures in question were bright red, and covered in sesame seeds (don't ask me how the sesame seeds increased the horror factor, they just did!!)...
But like I said, I was feeling brave. And I do like regular octopus, which looks more like this:
So I tried it... The flavor was mildly spicy and the texture wasn't even scary... I ate several bites of it just to be sure...
But still... Ick...
Call it the 'eww gross tiny legs in my mouth' factor, but I don't think I'll be ordering THAT again!
Photos: originally uploaded by floratheexplora and thinkDraw
Ok, so we DO actually wear those t-shirts that say 'Detroit, where the weak are killed and eaten'. And we really DO wish the rest of you would just get the [radio edit] out of our way when we're trying to drive someplace...
But today, in a frighteningly typical (idiot) display of air-headedness, at the Detroit Metropolitan Airport I managed to leave a gift I'd brought along for someone (in a beautiful, 'please steal me' type gift bag) at the check-in counter. Then I proceeded to go through security and walk to the very FAR end of the terminal (making several stops) before noticing I'd forgotten it...
I headed back (no small feat as I hadn't QUITE made it to the tram station and had to walk BACK) which took me NEARLY an hour, and by then the check-out was JAMMED with people. I worked my wait to the counter hoping that one of the attendants had put it away, and lo and behold...
It was still there... Sitting right where I'd left it... For almost an hour...
And no one touched it...
(My faith in mankind has been restored and all it cost me was a couple of blisters... (oh and a bag check the second time through security :p ))
So I was chatting with the maternal unit today. And when I say chatting I mean IM.
Yes, my mother communicates with me via instant message... Amazing perhaps for her generation; but she less progressive about technology than she is resourceful...
About keeping up with her children...
And IMing me in the middle of the work day is typically the easiest way for her to track... me... down...
Because I suck at the ol' communication thing... And I hate the phone in general... (Yes I have two cell phones with me at all times, but that's mainly for internet 'kay?)
Anyway, during the course of this afternoon's chat I was alternately:
And during this conversation I came up with at least three different blog topics, none of which I can remember, except that they had something to do with feeling guilty... They were BRILLIANT I tell you!! (You'll just have to trust me on this one.) But now they are gone forever... Do you think that's part of the super-secret mom-evil-plan? To make you feel guilty about stuff and then have you immediately forget what the guilt-causing actions were?
It's the only explanation I can come up with...
*Mom, if you're reading this it's total fiction; a publicity stunt. I SWEAR!!
I know that I know nothing - Socrates
I know nothing this is clear...
But if I know that I know nothing... then don't I know something?
And if I know something, doesn't that mean that I can't know that I know nothing because I don't...
Know nothing...
And so if what I know that I know becomes what is not true because once I know that I know then I can't not know...
Then doesn't the very fact of my knowledge (or lack thereof) turning over and over on itself for the rest of eternity...
Just take me back to knowing nothing again?
