monday

It’s Monday and I really have nothing to say. I have been aimlessly doing things about the house. Put away laundry, sorted through old photos, took pictures of the cats. I am so bored that I can’t even think straight. Internet is not working! So, I have washed the dishes, swept the floor and cleaned the kitty litter boxes. Where is that book I wanted to read? I can’t find it. I brought in firewood, cleaned out the frig and took a bath. I still can’t find my book. I found a box of trashy romance novels but none of them are very interesting. It is now 2 pm. I contemplated watching Dexter, but decided to save it for my evening faire. I wrote a letter to my sister-in-law, packaged up a box for my daughter and cleaned the shower walls. Oh look, I need more fire wood and the internet is still down. I vacuumed the rugs, trimmed my hair and decided to have stir fry for dinner. So, I sorted through the freezer and found the right vegetables. Maybe I’d rather have chicken wings, french fries and a salad with bacon dressing. My husband is working on setting up a new router and I am making hand squeezed lemonade. I feel so domestic that I need to slap myself. I know just the thing. I will clean all the light switch plates and door knobs. Done! that took a good 45 minutes. I think I need to bake a cake or maybe some cupcakes. Chocolate will do. I’ve already been to the store and I don’t want to venture into walwart again today. That means I have to make my own frosting. It’s better that way anyway. Right? O.K. now, cup cakes are baking, still working on the internet and am listening to my ipod on random. I trimmed Zombie’s nails, brushed out Mikey and the cupcakes are cooling. Why can’t the netgear communicate with the suddenlink box? Let’s call and see. It is now 4:30 pm. Waiting. Waiting.
Deep in the cells of my brain, neurons are firing. Or fizzling. Or something. We will now run the diagnostic again. ISP failed. Reset the device. Reset for the 5th time. Router is turned off. Router is turned on. Still not connecting. Grrrr. Is it a mac thing? I am beginning to hate mac. Maybe a PC laptop is in order. Yes. I would love to research what kind of laptop to get but . . . I don’t have the internet right now. Yes Sir. Firewall is disabled. Yes Sir, everything is plugged in. All the lights are on. No connection. Diagnostics recommends we contact our internet provider. Reconfigure IP. Yes Sir. Use passive FTP mode. After 30 minutes Suddenlink cannot help us. On to Netgear. Calling and waiting.
It is 6:30 pm - I am finally able to access the internet! Wahoo.

It's alright I'm alive

I crawled out of my skin
I thought that’s what I wanted
but now it hurts too much
I feel the slightest breeze
I’m exposed

I stand on the brink, heart pounding
caught between flight and fight
No one where to run, no one to battle
no way to breathe

With my mouth dry
I address the air
past the tightness in my throat
- I will breathe

Slowly, the wild bird
quiets and rests
my thoughts thaw
It’s alright

The Sea

Sometimes it seems like the internet really is like the sea at night. All around, all you can see are the darks swells of the waves. Even if you know there are other boats, hidden behind the nearest swell. Above you can see a million stars, the same stars that any other on the sea may look at. Yet, even when you call out and try to make contact, the wind swallows your voice. You can write a note, stuff it in a bottle and toss it out trusting the waves to deliver it and trusting that someone will read it.

This and That

I was wondering, can a person get writer's block when writing their own journal? There should always be something going on inside my head, right? It's true that most of what goes on in a typical day is not noteworthy. BUT if the brain stops taking note of the unusual within the mundane then how do I jump start it again? Of course, then there are the times when there is so much going on in my head that I can't seem to distill it down into anything that makes sense.

I began working on this post yesterday. As I was typing I was interrupted by a phone call from Jack. He wanted to stop by and show my husband the beautiful reproduction 18th century gun that he had built. By the time he left, I was totally distracted and waiting for a phone call from a friend. Without really being conscious of it I continued this thought pattern throughout the day. I began thinking about thinking. So, what is a thought anyway? A thought is in no way original. It is just the data retrieved and filled in from memory of a sound, an image, a taste, etc. To be original, you have to have an idea. Ideas are those epiphany's that are based, not on a memory or thought but on your brain interpreting something totally new. Did you ever try to observe your thoughts - as if from outside yourself - and trace them back through the string of memories to the origin? To come up with an original idea, you could try asking yourself a question that forces your brain to look at old thoughts in a new way. Better yet, if someone else asked you a question about something that was outside your everyday thought pattern, you might come up with a totally original idea. So - food for thought - or ideas:

Without humanizing them, if cats could really talk what to you suppose they would say, or want to say to us, humans or to other cats?

If human thought and intent shaped our reality, what kind of a world would you think into being? How would you convince others to think the same way so that collectively you create reality your way rather than, say the way media wants us to think?

I guess - I need to stop and think some more.

facebook sucks

It is interesting to see how many people think that broadcasting the minutia of their daily life on facebook somehow gives their life meaning. These are the ones who feel compelled to let everyone know what they are cooking for dinner, what they are shopping for, what their pets are doing, what they are wearing (or would like to wear)., etc. Most of what they post is surface, meaningless stuff like a bare bone without any meat on it. The worst of them are even hollow without any marrow. These same people will randomly post some shockingly personal things. The kind of things best said to your best friend or spouse. Yet, they post it for all to see. Perhaps it is only posted because it is safe from any real human interaction. I think that my biggest pet peeve concerning facebook is that it is pseudo life, pseudo friendship and pseudo communication. In the past I have tried to elicit real responses to actual meaty issues and usually these go unanswered and ignored. If I want to get any recognition to a post, it has contain pictures or have multi choice questions, much like grammar school or remedial education. Maybe, I am just boring, or the topics I choose are boring. Either way, I feel that I would much rather be ignored in person than over the internet and I refuse to compromise my own privacy. So screw it!

why can't I be a car?

Going to the doctor should be like going to a mechanic. We should be able to deposit our body, leave it for testing and repair and return later after spending time in a comfortable lounge quietly reading a good book. Instead, we are privy to every indignity and invasion of privacy and certainly aware of pains (both mental and physical) we are forced to endure. When they are done there is no acknowledgment of humanity. We go forth to deal with insurance companies who act as if you are trying to rob them and your only motivation is to somehow receive a prescription drug to supplement your habit. In my opinion, there is something to be said about the good old days when you went to your family doctor for everything. He talked to you like you were a human being that he cared about. So - waaaaaah!
I think I have recovered my equilibrium and hope to be done with the medical community until next year. Now I just need to get through the dentist!!!