I have been trying for months to find a way to express my utter heartache for what has been happening in the world. There always were, always are, and always will be the kind of horrifying events that knock the collective wind out of humanity as a whole. These things scratch at our hearts demanding that we listen, that we act. But I am tired. We’re all tired.
The other night, out of curiosity I’ve found myself watching Mountain Monsters, one of probably 4 or 5 shows about some bearded hillbillies running around in night vision yelling things and pointing rifles at the dark. Now, it should be noted that the folks on any of these shows are generally not exceedingly representative of most of the population that lives in the area, and I’m sure they’re lovely people anyway. But I guess America wants to see gross misrepresentation of rural populations so here it is.
“Is that an X-Files reference?” I imagine I’ll be getting this question a lot now that I’ve gotten “I want to believe” tattooed on my inner forearm. The answer to the question is a definite yes, but it’s also so much more to me.
I’ve long wondered why my dreams are a jumbled pile of the weirdest images and feelings I am able to see or feel. There’s probably some kind of deep psychosis associated with them, like the time I dreamt I was best friends with Jason Voorhies. That was a new one.
There are some recurring themes in my dreams most of the time. I see a lot of dirty bathrooms (apparently this is a common thing) and a lot of rushing water – oceans, giant waves, flooding, submersion etc. But every once in awhile, as I’ve mentioned, shit gets wacky. So rather than just relate my most recent dream to you in a boring every day account, I am going to embellish this magnificent tale in the mediocre romantic style of author Nicolas Sparks.
Very recently my grandmother passed away on my birthday of all days. She was 86 and not well so we weren’t surprised, but of course saddened. Her passing meant that I had to suddenly fly from Seattle to Ohio for her memorial service. I expected to see family, eat some mayonnaise based foods, and drink lots of wine with my mom. What I did not expect when I got there was the flood of memories that washed over me and the power they have to inspire.
The brain is the most amazing part of the human body. It’s electric. It tells us what to do, how to breathe, how to function. It’s a marvel that almost always floors me with its magnificence. But sometimes the brain can be a real weirdo and a real jerk. Read More »
Don’t worry. This isn’t going to be a post full of contemplation, self revelation, or thoughts on some sort of state of being. Or is it? Okay it is, but I promise it will be worth it in the end. It’s Administrative Professionals Appreciation Day (whatever that is) and it happens go coincide with some major self appreciation too.
There’s a lot of noise out there. And there are a lot of bad things, bad people, tragic events, ignorant philosophies, and other things that make me want to crawl into a hole and never come back out. But as tempting as becoming a full time professional hermit sometimes is, the unavoidable truth is there’s no escaping existence.
Well, sort of. I’m not really going camping or going to any real camp whatsoever. I’m talking about Camp NaNoWriMo, which is the kind of spin off of the popular National November Writing Month… or Writing National Novel Novembook… Nammonth… anyway NaNoWriMo. Despite the entirely too confusing name, I’m really looking forward to coating myself with bug spray, finding pine needles in my shorts, and getting an ear infection from swimming in the lake.
This morning I was greeted by my friend The Internet with this lovely article on Jezebel wherein an Alaskan Senator wants women to have to take pregnancy tests in bars before getting their drink on. This poor man is just one of dozens of examples of many male politicians being very confused about everything having to do with women, so I’m here to let you off the hook, buddy. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. We got this. It’s okay.