Wednesday Night Status

I started working on my first knitting project of the season. It's a sock for my CPAP tubing. I'd crocheted one a few years back, but it is cumbersome and misshapen.  The knitted one, while fugly because I used old bit of yarn, is far lighter and a better length. I also macramed ties for it, so I can control how tight I make the ends. 

Misshapen is an awkward word.  I think when I read it in my head, half the time it comes out Miss Happen.  Don't even ask what I thought of macrame. 

I continue, in my no-attention span meow meow kind of way, to read through GRRM. It's an easy read, but I have a disco ball for a brain half the time. I've decided it isn't a fantasy novel at all. It's a horror novel set in a fantasy world.  This actually lets the books make more sense. Well, plus there are the Others out there. 

I finished watching the second generation of Skins last night. The first of it kind of annoyed me, but it ended well. It ended horrifically, though not in the same way the first one did. 

To that end, I'll leave this brief post with a tribute video.  This tribute is so well done it could have BEEN the video to this song. Placebo's "Meds" and Skins 1's Cassie. What a combo.

Social Construction: The Five Year Theory

I think a lot of our problems as social animals stem from this idea that we have to make really long term relationships with people. I think a lot of our other problems as social animals stem from the fact that we are forced to be around the other humans we don't want in our lives.

Think about it. Don't a lot of people's emotional worries come from either the idea of finding long term relationships OR from being around annoying people all the time? Both concepts are extremely draining.

I think it would be really cool if that every five years, we were required to stop being around each other. Marriage end. Friendships dissolve. Jobs change. Locations change. Everything, everyone is different.

It's impractical and probably impossible, but there would be some nice benefits from it.  For one thing, if your relationships could only last for five years, you'd probably try and make the best of them. Instead of taking your lovers and friends for granted, you'd take the time to really get to know them, talk to them, make memories.

And for the people you didn't like, you'd find their soulsucking annoyance to be less horrible than it used to be. After all, you only have to put up with them for five years. Then you'd never have to see them again. Ever.

There would have to be some exceptions, of course. Clearly children would need more time with parents, though probably not a full 18 years living with them. And every once in a while, you'd find someone who was truly so amazing you would petition to be with them past the five years.

There could also be an evaluation at the end of the relationship. If people got too many negative marks from others, they could be restricted on who they got to associate with. That way, abusive people would face either rehabilitation or social isolation. Those who were just as annoying as fuck could be told so and offered a chance to take some classes to teach them to be less intolerable.

We could build a whole new educational market based on these classes. Stop Talking So Much 101. How Not to Annoy Others.  The Art of Conversation. From Passive/Aggressive to Decent Person. How to Overcome Being Boring.  Entertaining Yourself and Others.

I think people would become more self-reliant too.  Knowing that everyone would be leaving their lives after five years would help them to see how important it is to find your own interests and your own hobbies. Considering everyone else would be transient, you would be the only constant in your life.

Of course I know a lot (of all four of you) are assuming this is just typical Blackhaired Barbie commitment phobia and jadedness, but I honestly don't mean it that way.  Just look around you, consider the people in your life.  If most of them had walked away after five years, where would you be now? How much stress would you not have from the relationship?

See, I told you it was a good idea.

The Facepalming of the Gods

So Bachmann says a lot of stupid shit. I think if I tried to blog over all of it, I'd be blogging 24/7.  Someone please get this woman better handlers. It's embarrassing. Seriously, I think even people who hate her cringe in embarrassment over the stupid that shoots from her mouth.

Recently she made some comment about how the earthquake and then the hurricane were god's wrath or wakeup call or something. Then she claimed she was joking.

As a side note, that is SUCH a bitchy meangirl trick. "OH MAH GA, your hair looks SO bad today! Hahaha, just kidding! Ya didn't take that SURIOUSLY did you?"

Joking or not, we all know this type of statement has been made forever. It's like the common rhetoric of the quasi-religious-wanna-control-you crowd.  No matter how advanced our meteorology or other sciences, no matter how much we try to educate people, anytime the weather DOES STUFF, someone or many someones has to claim it's because of some god's wrath. Yes, even now. Even in 2011.

This idea is both narcissistic and insane.

It's narcissistic because it's based on the idea that the actions of humans dictates what happens with the weather.  Do we have an affect on the weather? Certainly.  However, storms don't happen because people decide to sin. Floods don't happen because people played Grand Theft Auto instead of reading some holy book.

Storms happen because they need to, because that is what the weather has to do at that time to remain stable. In fact, we'd all be far more fucked if we didn't have storms.

And yes, these storms can be devastating to people and their homes.  This is horrible and rough on them. It can be scary as hell, expensive, sad, and sometimes fatal. But no god did this to punish you.  No god did this to hurt you, any more than I'm trying to punish micro-organisms that live on my skin when I kill billions of them as I shower.

Simply put, weather can be horrible on us, but the weather didn't happen for that reason.

This theory is also insane because it creates this idea that people worship an abusive bastard god.

Because if the stuff I said before wasn't true and weather really was controlled by some god who was using it to punish people, why the fuck would anyone worship him/her/it?

Let's put this in perspective. Say the god is your spouse. Basically what you just said is, "I'm beaten up and I lost everything. I was terrorized for hours and I'm now homeless. I don't know when I'll be able to get back on my feet. This happened because I didn't obey my spouse, so they beat me up and burned down my house.  I'm not going to leave them though because I'm so scared they'll do it again . . . or do worse."

You wouldn't advise anyone to stay with that spouse, so why would you think you should tell people to keep worshiping this god? If the god you worship tortures and terrorizes people for disobeying, why would you stay with this god?

Because, if that is what god is . . . if god is some abusive parent who kills people just because they disobeyed, then we should all turn from this god.  We should all die and live it with no worshipers. It deserves none. It deserves to be alone.  A god, like any human, who is just bad tempered and violent, deserves to be alone.

Bachmann claims she's a Christian. I'm not exactly sure she knows what that word means, but if she does, there is a better and far more true message she could have given about Irene. She could have said something like "I know the storms are horrible and devastating to people. Everyone is scared and wondering what will come next.  I hope you find comfort in those moments.  I hope you feel someone holding your hand. I hope the rescue workers locate the lost. I hope the power holds, so we don't have to brave this in the darkness. I hope we come together as a people and help out those in need."

Comfort. Strength. Charity. A light in the darkness. These are a far better witness. I hope her heart opens up and she realizes this. I hope her mouth stays closed until she's really thought through what she's going to say. I also hope people see past the isolation religion seems to want to cause these days and that we all found our common ground.

Sunday Thoughts

Wow, I didn't post last night. Then again, I spent most of the evening telling a dear friend a dark secret, so maybe posting just wasn't in the cards for me.  I should get my cards out and see if that's truly the case.

The weather's been playing wet and nasty lately. Nothing compared to what's happening on the East Coast, but unpleasant.  Still, every day we're seeing a drop in the temp, especially at night. Hopefully my Magical Autumn will be here soon.

I should point out that the cats have been interesting this summer. Normally, they hide from us when things get too hot, or just hang out on the edges of the rooms. Well, either that or they hang out in between fans, usually in the way of everyone.  But that's the nature of cats.

This summer though, they've been quite friendly. Even Crazy Cat has been in the living room on the more hot days, and the others were in here constantly.  They've also wanted a lot of attention, insisting on their heads being petted and on belly rubs. This has been quite nice, even if it means sometimes hot furry cat is laying on me whenever I don't have the AC running.

I've been thinking of more concepts that need words for them. For instance, there should be a word for that emotion of annoyance you feel when someone you don't like announces they're going to have spawn more children.  Yes, that emotion needs a name.

Anyway, my week will hopefully be low key.  It needs to be, I think. Some peace and quiet would be nice.  Hell, I think we all need that.

As She Watched the Soldiers Run from the Horse, She Thought Gleefully of her City's Demise

I love English, but I think we need to expand it. As fully complex as our language is, there are still concepts that could use just one word or a nice short phrase to explain the emotion they create.

The funny thing is, these are emotions that we quite often feel, but tend to express in generic terms. Disappointment. Vindication. Frustration. Yes, these words are good, but sometimes an emotion is very precise to a situation.  In these cases, there should be a special word or phrase to explain it.

Recently, my best friend and I were talking about a situation where she had been discovered to be correct about something after months and months of being disbelieved. Somehow we got off onto that moment when you realize everyone knows you're right and were right all along. They also realize they've been assholes about it. And it makes you feel so GOOD. That needs a word.

Is it vindication? Well, it is, but there is so much more to it than that. I asked my friend to describe what the word should be and she opted instead for a phrase.

By god, I fucking TOLD YOU SO, motherfucker motherfucker!!"

She said there needed to be two "motherfuckers" because one just wasn't enough.  There were also usually other people involved in the doubt. An additional "mother fucker" should be added for each of them.

It's like on movies (horror, creature feature, disaster, etc.) how there is usually this one person who is fully and intelligently aware that DOOM is approaching.  They saw the ghosts or aliens or read a report about the planet or have degrees and brains or overheard something or got knocked across the room by a possessed person. They try to warn people, but no one listens.

Actually, if they're lucky, no one listens.  Often, they're treated as crazy and are just ignored. This is actually the less horrible fate for them. Other times, they're accused of things and put in prison or shot. Then the thing they warned everyone about happens.  They may act humble when people tell them how they were correct the whole time, but inside they're thinking: By god, I fucking TOLD YOU SO, motherfucker motherfucker!!"
As my roommate and I discussed earlier today, it would actually be funny to, for once, see one of these people just stand back in joy, watching as their predictions are playing out and no one is safe but them.

Anyway, this is our word for the day. Well, it's our word or phrase. Or rather, it WILL be. Once we decide what that word should be called. I can't wait to see what we dream up.

Sleeping near the Heart

Assuming there is no sudden heatwave to show up and ruin my plans, I should be returning my mattress and myself to my room tomorrow. I'm really looking forward to this. It feels like it's been forever. I feel displaced in my own home.

I am, however, very thankful for the living room welcoming me and allowing me to use it as a sleeping room. Somehow I suspect that's a tad below the dignity of a living room. However, I suppose in this case, the living room is used to it.

When I was a freshman in college, my grandfather was in the last stages of a battle against emphysema. I opted to commute my second semester because I knew I was needed at home. He took care of all most all of the outside activities. My grandmother hadn't shopped in years, had possibly never paid a bill. Though, to be honest, I'm not sure if that's true. It's what she told me, but I think maybe she let herself forget.

When he died, she moved into the living room and began sleeping on a love seat.  It had no sides, so she pulled an ottoman over to her to keep her feet from hanging off the edge. She would sleep on her side, with her hands clasp together under her chin, as if in prayer.

When my second year began, I moved back to the college town with my best friend. Gran continued to sleep in the living room. She would keep sheets neatly folded on the top of the love seat, a pillow to one side.  Every night, she would unfold the sheets and transform the couch to a bed. Every morning, they would be refolded and replaced on the back.

The strange thing is, it had been years since my grandmother even slept in the same bed as my grandfather. As long as I could remember, they slept in separate rooms, as far away from each other as possible. The only time they were in the same bed was when they had guests and there was no room otherwise.  You could tell they were uncomfortable with it.

You never know what grief will do to you though. You never understand the patterns it will change or create, the way the deeper parts of your mind will find logic in things that, perhaps, the rest of your mind doesn't even comprehend.  Gran didn't know why she needed to sleep in the living room, but she did.

And I'm not even sure at what point she shopped.  All I know is that one weekend I came home and she was in the bedroom now.  Interestingly, it was the bedroom where my grandfather used to sleep. Now it was hers and would remain hers until the moment of her death. Actually, even a few hours after that.

I think my grandmother found comfort in sleeping in the living room. I think she felt it was the heart of the house and it was certainly the hearth of the house.  I think she needed to be in here to reclaim the home as hers.  Whatever the case, it seems to have worked.

And I understand. The living room has been my haven in this nasty heat.  It's keep me as comfortable as possible and like I said, I'm very grateful for that. Thank you, living room, for all the rest you've provided for me and mind. *kisses*

Imaginary Betrayal

Sometimes I love my imagination. In fact, like 99% of the time, it's like my favorite thing. During that other one percent, however, it really messes with me. Any time my imagination locks into my irrational fears, my life suddenly gets a bit batshit.

This happened the other night. I have this irrational fear of mice. My roommate is quite baffled by this. When the topic mice comes up, at some point, the following is said.

Roomie: But it is a MOUSE. Mice are tiny.
Me: What part of irrational are you not hearing?
Roomie: Itty bitty. You could step on it.
Me: OH MY GOD! And also, still, I would like to point out this isn't a rational fear. Plus, OH MY GOD at stepping on the mouse.
Roomie: Seriously, what could the mouse do?
Me: Irrational!

I realize everything he says makes total sense. I also know it doesn't matter. I'm still going to scream when I see a mouse. And that's only part of it.

However, I don't want any mice hurt. I just want them to peacefully live their lives far the hell away from me. So when I saw a mouse scamper across the room the other day, my roommate bought some humane traps that will contain the mouse, but not kill it. This is a wonderful thing and it will solve the problem.

The other night though, the whole mouse and mouse trap concept served instead to cause me problem. I was on my mattress which, as you will recall, is temporarily in the living room until the heat dies down. I was laying quite happily on my bed when I thought about the fact that the mouse trap wasn't really all that far away from me.

In fact, if the mouse ran into it, I could probably hear it. Which means I would have to take it outside and hope it doesn't do whatever stupid irrational thing I think it will do. What the hell even is that?

Do I think the mouse will explode and kill me?

Do I think it will suddenly become a hoard of mice and drown me in mice overabundance?

Do I think it will set me on fire? Arrest me? Shoot me dead?

Do I think the mouse will bite me with it's giant vampire mouse teeth? Okay, I maybe have reason for this one. When I was younger, a hamster bit me and wouldn't let go. Evil little fucker.

Anyway, irrational fear of mouse is now activated and I'm shivering in the bed . . . OH BUT THAT IS NOT ENOUGH!

Because then my mind, bastard that it is, begins to think about how snakes love to eat mice. So, quite possibly, which in Irrational Fear Mode, equals 100%, when I go to take the mouse outside and set it free, a giant snake will have its head stuck in the trap, trying to get at the mouse.

The snake will sense me with its Special Snake Sensing Powers and will SPRING from the trap and latch onto my eyeball and suck out my brains!

Which, again, irrational, but that's where fear and imagination were taking me.

Evil brain. May you be calmer tonight!