Wonder Why Wednesday - The Best Things In Life Are Free

I got my tax refund this morning (yay for the modern world... I filed a week and a half ago!), and I feel so much less stressed out because of it.

It wasn't a fortune, and in fact it was a lot less than last year (I changed my W4 to get more back in my regular paychecks), but it made the difference.

I can go get some stuff done I've been putting off... like car maintenance and a furnace filter!

And a haircut! Just a little one - it's been 2 years. (The joys of long, straight hair.)

And maybe a pedicure. I know it's kind of counterproductive to splurge on extras when I've been squeaking by so much lately, but if you could see my heels right now you'd understand and indulge my 30.00 luxury.

It's always been my wish to have enough to be stress-free, and it doesn't happen very often, so when it does I relish the lack of anxiety.

Today's Wonder Why...

What's your definition of "enough"?

There's some thought that you can never have enough, or that your definition of enough might change the more you have, which I think is true... for me, "enough" means being able to go to the grocery store and buy what I need, rather than having to decide what I can afford that week. For someone with 4 kids in different states, it might be enough to see them each once a year.

Not that I'm so dirt-poor, I have enough to get the basics, but I really enjoy having enough to not worry so much, even if it's just for a little while.

Happy Wednesday!

Wonder Why Wednesday - Adjustment

I haven't done a Wonder Why in awhile, but all around me people have been growing and changing and morphing (in not-disturbing ways, I swear - no extra limbs), and I've been seeing again and again all these videos and articles about people who have had life-changing events occur.

And it got me wondering...

How do you deal with change?

For me it depends on the nature of the alteration... was it planned, or was it foisted upon you?

Did you choose the change or was it chosen for you?

The common viewpoint seems to be that when the unexpected occurs, it's acceptable to fall apart, but that if it was something you chose or knew was coming, you should just suck it up and deal with the fallout.

I think that's crap.

Too often I think we shy away from being really open with our emotional responses - I'm guilty of this, for sure.

I've changed jobs many times in my life, and every time, even though I've chosen to leave, it's been emotionally draining to do so. The response to expressing this feeling, though, has often been "but you wanted to leave, aren't you happy?".

And?

I don't believe that just because you choose to do something, it invalidates your right to express sadness or regret, or even just to bitch about it.

Then there's the idea of change thrust upon us, altered states we don't choose but which are chosen for us.

The natural, acceptable response seems to be to lose one's mind over it... and if you *don't* freak out, people wonder if you're holding something back. Bottling it up. Keeping it in.

But what if that shock of change opens your eyes? What if it makes you appreciate your life all that much more completely, and put you in a state of serenity unmatched in your past?

The most completely perfect example of this was shown to me this week via a video of Randy Pausch, a Carnegie Mellon professor who died in 2008 of pancreatic cancer, giving his "Last Lecture" (it wasn't really, but that was the idea).

If you can find an hour to watch this, I can't recommend it enough... I promise you will be inspired.

Wonder Why Wednesday - WTF Edition

Have you heard about this?

Apparently, the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force has decided that women only *really* need mammograms after age 50. Even then, only every 2 years.

Because, you know, mammograms only really save maybe 15% of those women.

WHAT. THE. FRACK.

Even if they only save 1 woman a year, it's worth it!

I'm so upset by this, but I'm glad to know that everyone else pretty much is too. Most doctors interviewed have said they will continue giving mammograms regularly (the currently guidelines are 40+, and yearly).

I understand that a lot of unnecessary surgeries and fear have resulted from faulty mammogram tests, but isn't a little fear followed by a "false alarm!" worth your life?

But okay, fine, if you're not high-risk, then you just do self-exams, right?

"They also recommend that physicians abstain from teaching women how to examine their breasts for signs of cancer because of a lack of evidence that it is of any benefit."

Um, what?

WHAT?

WHAT?!?

I wish I knew what to do about this. All we can really do is continue to teach our daughters and nieces and sisters and friends who come after us that self-exams are a must... we'll just have to teach them ourselves.

On top of the outrage regarding this, the Republicans are using it as yet another reason to keep Health Care Reform from going forward - what they don't seem to realize is that these recommendations were made and we don't have reformed Health Care. So, ya know, way to miss the point there, kids. Anyway.

Unbelievable.

WTF Wednesday - No Seriously, WTF?!

No you're not hallucinating... there was no Totally Random Tuesday post this week.

I KNOW! Such a slacker. But I'm going to make it up for you today with something that is both incredibly random and deeply, deeply possessed of WTF-edness.

So The Child's uncle Bob has an uncanny knack for finding the strangest stuff on the internet.

Most of the time, it ranges from interesting science facts to weird news blurbs he found on Fark or what have you. A kitten video here, a bit about people who can't drive there.

Sometimes, though...

Wow.

(Small part of the last 20 seconds or so is adults-only, yet hilarious. FYI.)


At about 1:30, I laughed so hard I almost died. Seriously I started choking. It wasn't pretty.

I think the subtitles give it that extra something special.

Poor, bodiless Quique. But he soldiers ever onward! You can see some of his inspirational photos here.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Cannibalism For Fun And Profit

So I had this *awesome* post for you guys today.

But the idea came at 3AM, and I didn't write it down, and now I can't remember.

Dammit.

Just as well, it probably involved squirrels or something, dreams are funny like that.

I *have* decided though that rather than offer a less-than-amusing post, (because really if it's not funny...) I'm going to temporarily morph Wonder Why Wednesday into WTF Wednesday. A bit cliche now, I know, but it's more amusing than listening to me go on about how people don't use their heads enough, etc.

As befits the launch of any new theme...

I found a doozy for you.


That baby is so clearly saying WTF it didn't really even require this caption

I looked it up, because of course I did.

You can listen for yourself here, but in case you're afraid (I myself chickened out), here are the lyrics to the titular title track:

I always thought that cows looked prettier in a field
Than on my plate at supper being served up as the meal.
And though I do like hamburger, fried chicken or a steak,
I prefer my chickens cackling to fried, cooked or baked.
I stopped eating animals and I'm glad I finally did;
But I get my protein 'cause I eat kids.

It used to be a problem just eating rice and beans
And I think you probably know exactly what I mean.
And I never really knew if I was eating all I should
But I don't have that problem know and it feels pretty good
I stopped eating animals and I'm glad I finally did;
But I get my protein 'cause I eat kids.

So its goodbye veal marsala, goodbye leg of lamb,
Hello Michael, Sarah, Mark and Pam.
I won't eat chicken and I won't eat a cow;
I don't eat animals, I eat children now.
I stopped eating animals and I'm glad I finally did;
But I get my protein 'cause I eat kids

Is it a plea for vegetarianism? Because if so, he missed the mark.

I did look at a few of his other songs, and though several sound kind of cute ("A Brontosaurus With Bronchitis" and "One Big Happy Family"), there are some titles that make me *really* glad The Kid didn't discover this album as a small child, due to the psychiatric trauma, uncomfortable conversations and Child Services house-calls that would surely have ensued.

I didn't actually read the lyrics to all of these, I'll leave that to you, but sometimes you really can judge a book by its cover...

Or the insane by their song titles.

A Bee Will Sting You
A morality tale, or an early indoctrination into apiphobia?

Don't Leave Me In The House Alone
Guilting working parents is an artform.

Don't Wake Up The Baby Or The Baby Will Get You
Uh, Rosemary? We should talk.

Have A Little Smoke?
It's the scourge of today's youth - smoking, pushy babies.

I Lost My Pants
It happens.

I Used To Have A Sister
Sorcery AND cannibalism. Nicely played, young sir!

Leroy Is A Late Bloomer
I think I met Leroy once.

My Mother Ran Away Today
Be good... OR ELSE.

Oh No, I Like My Sister
Thankfully, not what I thought, but can you blame me?

Wonder Why Wednesday - Figure It Out

Okay so you know how I work with some of the most moronic smart people ever?

I love them, but they're so dumb sometimes I'm amazed they can find which end of the bed to exit in the morning. Thankfully it's a small percentage of the population here or I'd have run screaming and/or gotten stabby by now.

Well, I would have run screaming/gotten stabby more *often*.

Anyway we have a new system coming up here at my fine place of employment in the next few months. It will accomplish all the usual stuff, but it will look and act differently, and it will involve a little more self-direction than some of the folks here are used to.

They'll have to figure some stuff out. This leads to the obvious question, the one I'm going to be asking myself again and again in the coming changeover.

Why do some smart people have such a hard time figuring things out for themselves?

It drives me nuts.

Is it a lack of self-directed motivational opportunities as children?

Is it a limited amount of space in their heads, wherein a Ph.D. leaves no room for common sense?

Is it just pure laziness?

I hate to think it's the latter, I mean these are scientists for crying out loud. I want to think of them as intelligent but scatter-brained individuals, Doc Brown types who try their best but really do need we happy few who can work a software update to help them find their way.


You can invent time travel, but not fill out a travel voucher? *sigh*

Oh well, I guess I should just be happy with the knowledge that the little cogs of the world are run by you and me, and not them.

Maybe they're *right* to leave this stuff to us.

I still want to send these sometimes, though. I never would, but...

But...

Wonder Why Wednesday - Polling The Masses

Lazy post today... have to leave early for The Child's very first volleyball game, and it's an away game so I have to go way into the country to the school, which looks exactly like her school.

No seriously.


Is it me?

So I've been slaaaavin' away at those bowls and I'm starting to think...

I'm going to have to have different stuff in the Etsy store. I'll just have to. It's boring *me*, imagine how a shopper would feel.

"Oh pretty! Blue bowl!"

"Oh that's neat... another bowl. This one's purple."

"Oh. Wow. Guess what. Only red."

Yeah. You can see it coming.

Maybe I can make bags or something... although they'd end up being pricey. Figure a yard of fabric is $10 (for something nice like they have at the quilt stores), and then labor and making some kind of profit (which is the idea)... they'd have to sell for 20 bucks.

Nobody's going to buy these for 20 bucks.



Sorry for the lack of actual wondering today, although maybe we can consider it a poll...

How much would *you* pay for one of those bags up there? They're lined, have an inner pocket, and range between about 12X15 and 15X15, give or take, depending on the width of the fabric.

No seriously... poll time! I want to see if I should venture into these bags for sale, or stick with things that are cheaper to make, and thus can be sold for less.

Have a lovely Wednesday night - I plan on screaming my head off, cheering on my very cute kid.

Wonder Why Wednesday: There's Always Next Year

People love their sports.

Even those who profess to not care about them, or even claim to hate the very idea of sports, can be spurred to lose their minds about their home town winning whatever championship's season has just ended.

When I was in high school, I abhorred, yet secretly loved, sports. "Jocks," I'd spit contemptuously, sneering through my black kohl eyeliner toward whatever College (TM) yahoo was standing next to me in line for Cubs tickets.

We all play our part, mine was "perky malcontent". Mull that one over a moment and you'll see it fits pretty well.

I'm a complex kinda girl, but you knew that.

Today's Wonder...

Why all the sports nuttery?

I mean, we're talking about a billion-dollar industry here. We pay more to guys who run around bases, who PLAY A GAME for a living, than we do teachers and firemen.

It's sick, really, but we put up with it.

Is it that sports hearken back to our baser need to be better than someone else?

Is it even deeper, a need for war-like behavior in a safe setting? Nobody *likes* war, but we like winning a battle... I mean, what are the yells of cheerleaders if not war-cries?

It's a mystery.

What's even more mysterious is that we still root for our losing teams year after year, showing deep loyalty to our chosen champions, even when they're lovable losers.

I should know, I'm a Cubs fan. (I've adopted the Rockies, but the Cubs will always have my heart.)



Not a Sox fan. They suck.

My friend Christine doesn't believe me that you're either a Cubs fan or a Sox fan, and never both, but that's because she's from the West Side. If she was from the North Side, she'd understand.*

Don't believe me?

Attend a Crosstown Classic game sometime. You'll see.


Not an exaggeration

* The exception to the rule: North Siders who live in Wrigleyville, the neighborhood in which Wrigley Field is located - they hate the Cubs on principle. Imagine if the circus came to your neighborhood on a weekly basis... you'd grow to hate the circus real fast.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Just A Number

It's come to my attention that I am regressing. It's not a bad thing.

I've long since realized that I'm not at all what I thought 35 would be but rather some amalgam of various ages I've been so far or observed in others.

Some days I'm 17 and defiant.

Some days I'm 60 and disapproving (usually at work - damn kids and the skateboards).

Age is just a number as we all find out eventually - what is 35 supposed to act like anyway? It's all relative.

This begs the question...

What does our chronological age have to do with anything?

Short answer? Not a damn thing.

Yeah, yeah, we've all heard it shouted repeatedly...

"What are you, 12?" "Grow up!" "Act your age, not your shoe size!"

But...

What exactly is 12 supposed to be like? Or 22? Or 90?

Take Leonard Cohen. He's 74... what does that number say to you?

Old. Crotchety. Possibly infirm. Certainly not schooling the youngins on how it's done, right?

Not so much.



And what about 27?

Young & vibrant? Perhaps coming into your own as an adult? Starting a family, a career, a life?

Maybe not.



It's all about experience & circumstance.

Just lately, as The Child has been getting older and my responsibility for her has lessened, I've felt as if I'm growing younger despite my advancing grey hair population, wrinkled brow and ever-saggier wobbly bits.

Not that I'm not responsible for her, don't get me wrong - she's still just a kid - but I have *less* of the responsibilities that seem to have take up so much of my life the last 13 years.

The Child makes her own lunches, gets herself up in the morning, does her homework without my help... she even sets her own alarm and gets herself to bed on time.

I in turn suddenly find myself going out and doing things without her, something I wasn't sure I'd ever do again - it's been her & me* so long now that for awhile I felt guilty about it, like somehow I should be including her more.

Instead, I've gotten used to it, and so has she, and now I'm free to do things like date a cute guy and eat dinner at 9PM, instead of always living my usual in-the-house-by-6 lifestyle.

It's like I'm finally living my 20's, sorta... but it's definitely not what I would have defined 35 (or 40) as being.

It really is just a number.

* Totally proper grammar - break it down like your English teacher taught ya!

Wonder Why Wednesday - Mariposa Mimosa

I am currently hip-deep in a serious crush.

(I know, you're retching out there in reader-land, but I swear I have a point.)

It's a strange sort of situation because unlike the usual swoon-from-afar sort of thing we've all experienced - where there's no hope and you just sort of spy on your intended and (thank you, internet) Google-stalk him and/or lurk on his Facebook page - in this case...

He likes me back.

He's not supposed to like me *back*, right? What exactly am I supposed to do with that?

I feel like a cat who finally caught the fly that's been buzzing around the house for 3 hours solid... Now what the hell do I do with it?!

It's utterly foreign territory.

This (see, I told you there was a point) leads me to my Wonder Why of the day...

Have you ever found yourself in a situation so completely opposite of what you were expecting that you just didn't know whether to (to use the vernacular) shit or go sailing?

We've all been there.

A new job where you aced the interview, but you show up and you're pretty sure they're speaking Gaelic.

A new school where you swore you were going to be the mysterious new kid everyone wants to befriend, but where you find you've shown up halfway through a semester where everyone knows the score but you.

You buy your kid a viola, let's say, and have visions of her becoming the next William Primrose, but find you can barely get her to practice.

We daydream about the little things that make up the larger whole of our lives, but things rarely pan out the way we were expecting. This doesn't mean, of course, that the outcome will be less than awesome, in fact that polar opposite is often to our benefit, but it's so hard sometimes to let go of the carefully tended and tightly-held ideas we've come up with, to adapt and re-start with whatever it is you've been handed.

But you do.

You learn Gaelic (or Unix, whatever) and become the fastest-promoted programmer in the history of the company.

You help a cute guy with his math homework during a group study session, having discovered that you already did the work at your old school, and suddenly find yourself with a date for prom.

Your kid learns to love the viola and plays her best, and gets an A in the class and praise from the teacher, and you couldn't be prouder than if she played Carnegie Hall.

In other words, you suck it up and adapt, and enjoy the adventure!

Wonder Why Wednesday - Running Up That Hill

I need to show you this:


Click it, I command you!

My mom made that. She knitted it, with her own two hands, WITH FRIGHTENINGLY SMALL BEADS, in under a year which would never happen in my house. She even blocked it (thus the foam board and pins), proof that she is the least lazy person I know. (I specifically look for projects that don't require this extra step. I know this shocks you.)

She didn't even frog it when the yarn proved to be slightly faulty...she just dyed it when she was done.

I came by my craft crazy honestly.

Today's Wonder...

What makes some projects and accomplishments so irresistible that we keep plugging away at them even when sense seems to dictate we stop?

There are the obvious ones, of course, like parenthood - if you're a parent (well, a good parent), you have to keep going even if you're tired and broke and upset about it all and wish you could be an unfettered, independently wealthy woman with a boat and a mountain cabin.

But what about the ones where nobody would lose anything by you quitting, like climbing a mountain, or running a marathon, finishing a killer shawl with unintentional stripes or making yourself write something interesting in a blog each day that only a few people read besides yourself?

Is it the challenge, or is it the sense of accomplishment when the task is complete?

The satisfaction of completion is the natural end to a tough-but-finished project or task, but I think it really, truly is just the challenge of the thing driving us more often than one might think... billionaire playboys do things for satisfaction, but you and I do them because it gets us out of our heads for 5, 10, 20 minutes a day.

That's worth the struggle.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Derailing Your Train Of Thought

I'll just give you a minute to absorb the cleverness that is my title.

I'll wait.

Done?

Okay!

First, I have to note for you grammar/spelling/punctuation junkies out there that yes, I realize that within a title, words like "of" and "the" are lower-case, however you must understand that I have fairly involved OCD tendencies, and a lower-case "o" in "of" would have made my skin itch. So there.

So! Your question for the day...

What sends your mind wandering? Do you enjoy it, and where does it go?

I love the paths our minds can take. I'm a world-class wool-gatherer, myself, and the best time for it, the instance in which I get the strangest results (besides when I'm trying to get to sleep), is on the bus.

While public transportation is useful and green (and free, the one real bonus of working where I do), it's also really...

Dull.

Granted, some public transportation experiences are more exciting than others, Chicago features a rather colorful elevated train system that makes for some of the best (or worst, depending on the strength of your stomach) people-watching, and the bus ride I personally enjoy these days gives me a luxuriously long view of the front range every day, but it still gets to be routine after awhile.

I can't read on the bus without severe consequences, and although I enjoy my little iPod a great deal there are only so many times I can hear the same songs over and over again (it's only a shuffle, not a lot of room on there), and TAL only has one free podcast a week, which is the best one-way trip of the week, granted, but still just one trip out of the 10 available during a week.

And so on those long, understimulated bus rides...

My mind wanders!

Depending on if I've opted for music, or if there's interesting weather going on outside, or there's a stinky fellow commuter next to me, the path my thoughts take can be linear - I keep a notepad for list-making - or it can be meandering, making connections from one thing to the next.

Sometimes it's driven by reviewing my experiences, going over and over something to analyze it, something triggered by a particular song and it's connection to someone else, and sometimes the winding road is purely me making stuff up... I've had some of my best unwritten novel and million-dollar movie ideas on public transportation excursions.

Staring at my fellow passengers (I really do have a problem) is the best way to come up with completely fictional stories to tell myself and pass the time. Some I see every day, and I get as used to them as the view from the front window, but sometimes we get a STRANGER... someone who doesn't belong, and whose past could contain anything at all.

Yesterday I found myself inspired by a couple of my fellow passengers, and started jotting down little notes about them.

I'd call it "poetry" but I'm pretty sure if I did, the ghost of Keats would find me and beat me to death with my purple notebook.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

--------

An old man smelling roses starts their petals falling and
laments the lateness of our transport.
It comes and he's gone but the petals still fall.

A shared seat with an Egyptian-eyed girl...
She looks through the window, thoughtful...
Or maybe just mindful of her stop.

Loud talkers disrespect the Church-silent riders,
unaware of the stares of contempt.
They don't care to know our thoughts.

Boredom makes the most literate resort to anything,
Schedules, instructions... anything to coax the wheels a little faster.
It never works.

--------

Wow, I wasn't kidding was I! Terrible stuff.

So... what's the coolest thing you've ever thought up while wandering? What's the weirdest?

Share!

Wonder Why Wednesday - Mental

Wow, not sure what that Tuesday post was all about... must be the solar eclipse.

It's just effing everyone up left and right apparently!


Also, wow!

Of course you could say that it doesn't *really* have anything to do with anyone's mood shifts or existence-changing events, that we just pay more attention to what's already there during those times, but on the other hand...

"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy", Shakespeare once wrote, and truer words were never spoken.

Who's to say that the moon really doesn't cause us to lose our minds when it's full, for example (the root of the word "lunatic" is, after all, "luna" - the latin for moon) , or that being near fire or water or up in the sky doesn't completely alter our bodies from the physical to the mental? And if someone feels that strongly that it's true, who are we to tell them they're crazy? People have every right to belive exactly as they please.

Then again, things like the 2012 doomsday prediction are getting ridiculous... they've even got a movie coming out about it!

It's one thing to feel in tune with the universe, it's another entirely to freak people out.

Todays Wonder Why...

Where do we get off thinking someone else's ideas are nuts but our own are perfectly valid?

I think it all has to do with personal faith and the need to be birds of a feather.

Whether someone is in need of assurance, sympathy, or just in a misery-loves-company state of being, there is often acceptance and relief to be found through things like conspiracy theory and uniting for a common cause, and of course religion and spirituality.

Astrology can do a lot for people because it's so easy to hear that it'll all be better tomorrow, and maybe that belief is what bouys them to truly *have* that better tomorrow. Read the rest of the horoscopes and you'll find they all pretty much pertain to you too, but if you need your spirits bolstered and that's going to do it for you, who am I to judge?

Religion, well... religion is so subjective as to be nearly impossible to fathom, but I think it all boils down to the same thing, namely needing to feel like we're not just floundering out here in the black. If your religious beliefs involve all-knowing deities and mine are more along the lines of Flying Spaghetti Monsters, so be it!

Lots of people just want *something* believe in or belong to, though, and unfortunately sometimes that means doom-and-gloom theories like the 2012 foolishness get a foothold, and paranoid theories on how everyone's out to get us run rampant. But, as long as they don't try to foist it on others, whatever people choose to put their faith in is their own choice. I just have a hard time understanding people who actively choose to be so negative.

It doesn't make them bad people, of course... I'm paraphrasing poorly (as usual) but someone very smart said "Sometimes they're just good people with bad information".

Too true.

The one exception to that? People who just refuse to open their eyes and see reason, like Birthers, who refuse to believe President Obama is an American citizen, despite completely valid and proven evidence to the contrary. Yeah, and the Earth is flat, too, kids.

Weirdos.

Wonder Why Wednesday: Social Niceties

You know, I'm a pretty tolerant girl. Most things don't bother me, I'm not easily embarrassed, and it takes a significant act of aggression to piss me off.

Smelly is one thing, though, that I just can't handle.

There are variations on this of course, as in all things. A little sweat is fine, and on the right person it's even kinda sexy, but then there's ripe B.O. (which still sounds like a foghorn when I say it in my head - you children of the 70's and 80's can hear it too no doubt) that's bad enough to make your eyes water. There's someone's gross lunch stink, which can't be helped sometimes, and then there's dragon breath that will singe your nose hairs.

I was sitting behind a woman on the bus this morning who had chosen to marinate in her favorite perfume. With a good perfume, this might just result in a slightly cloying scent bubble, but in this case I was having to breathe through my mouth (which was no help - now I can taste it too). It was something akin to baby powder infused Jasmine soup.

Now it was probably just me gagging on this, since I hate the scent of both baby powder and Jasmine, and actually have an allergy to Jasmine (it does weird and unpleasant things to my tongue), but it got me thinking about how people just don't consider the world around them sometimes, myself included... I'm sure that leather jacket I had in high school, the one that had a glass bottle of patchouli spill in the pocket, offended more than one olfactory nerve in its time.

Today's Wonder stems from being nasally assaulted in public this morning...

Why can't some folks see beyond their own spaces?

I'm sure it's as simple as being used to their own stuff; I mean I'm guessing the woman this morning has been wearing the same perfume for ages, and doesn't even smell it anymore. I'm certain the kid with the blaring headphones is so deaf by now he can barely hear the thumpa-thumpa of his music as it is. I guarantee you the guy with the fish breath sitting behind me the whole way, coughing merrily I might add, just hadn't thought of checking his breath post-lunch due to his allergy-medication-induced grogginess. There's usually a reason for everything.

Of course we being the polite folks we are generally don't *tell* the offenders they're offensive, because it's not socially acceptable behavior. Then again, neither is wearing so much perfume that it makes others want to barf like a chicken. (Thanks, Uncle Stevie.)

For me, at least, having my senses subjected to things like that makes me *more* aware that I shouldn't soak in my favorite perfume (only partially motivated by its hefty price-tag) or crank up Elvis Costello on my headphones no matter how much I love that song, and that I should have a mint after that onion soup at lunchtime.

Thankfully most people are fairly observant, or public transportation would really suffer.

Outside of the world of the RTD, however, you often will find people just don't realize how much they're really affecting the world around them with their lack of attention to the social niceties. The yeller at work, for example, who you'd swear was half-deaf due to the excessive volume of her speaking voice. The orally-fixated gum-snapper in the next office over. The person in the grocery store who must walk down the middle of the aisle and leave their cart there while they peruse the contents of the shelves, leaving you to move their cart for them (and how often do you get a dirty look for doing so?). The incubator who insists on coming in to work even though they've seemingly got a wad of Kleenex permanently affixed to their nose.

You just want to chuck stuff at them, don't you? You don't of course, because while being gross and rude *should* be illegal, it isn't, and physically harming someone for sneezing without covering their mouth *is*.

It's a cruel world.

Just because I love it so, here's that Elvis Costello song I'd be subjecting my fellow passengers to if I thought they'd appreciate it.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Sing Out Sistah!

I'm not even going to beat around the bush on this one, you'll see why in a minute.

Why can't we just say what we want to people?

We spend so much time trying to carefully wend our way towards saying things toward each other, so cautious of showing our true selves. But why? What are we so afraid of?

See how I just jumped right in? I didn't pitch woo, I didn't pull you into my blog with a story about how I got busted rocking out to the Dead Kennedys in my office yesterday only to smack you in the face with my half-ass thoughts on life... I just went for it! I said it plain!

Wouldn't it be easier if we all did this? Easier said than done, I know... it's a complex issue and I can think of several reasons why, but I think the scariest one has to be the fear of rejection.

If a teen girl says to the clique she runs with "Hey you know what, I don't really like wearing purple on Thursdays", will those girls say "Hey great idea! Let's all wear what we like instead! It'll be Free Thinking Thursday! Let's invite those other girls to join us, what say"?

Probably not, but we'll never know because Teen Girl would *never* risk rejection from her carefully tended group of friends. She can only work with her fear that they'd say "Wear purple or regret it for 3 years solid".

Similarly, if we walked right up to the object of our affection and said "Hey, I totally dig you", would the receiving party say "Wow, I totally dig you too," or would they say "OMG SPAZ!"? Are we willing to risk it?

And truly, I think that's the crux of the fear of rejection - the fear of risk. Are we willing to risk the comfort of our current situation to get something off our chest?

There are entire movie genres and endless catalogs of songs dedicated to people taking these risks and winning the prize in the end, and regretting it when they don't, but the truth is that it's *so* hard to gauge what the end result will be. So you just have to ask yourself...

Are you feeling lucky, punk?!

I'm kidding.

What you have to decide is if the risk is worth it.

If you risk a budding relationship by laying it bare instead of just trying to be all coy and beat-around-the-bushy about it, is the object of your affection going to reject you? How will you know if you don't say something? The problem is getting the words to come out of your mouth.

But if you tell someone you've been seeing that you really like them, and they tell you you suck, then that person is an asshole and you should dump him/her immediately. The risk you were afraid of was "will he/she still want me", but what about whether or not *you'll* want *them* if they say something so mean? You're probably better off knowing when it comes to that one.

Similarly, say you have a friend and she asks you how those pants look on her, and you politely (and that is the key) tell your friend she's got to stop wearing stretch pants, there's a reason The Gap stopped making them (with the exception of Blair Catalogs, which all sell Bend Over pants and tshirts with kittens a-frolickin' to the over-70 set), will she say "I hate you, never speak to me again," or will she say "Wow, thanks for telling me since I can't see my own ass in these"?

If your friend tells you to take a hike because you answered her question with honesty, do you really want a friend like that? The risk you feared was losing your friend, but a person like that is no friend to you - you're just a sounding board for their ego.

Decide if it's worth the risk.

I've both held it in and let it out, and although I have crashed and burned spectacularly when putting it out there for all to see, I've also been rewarded even more not only by having my thoughts supported or my feelings reciprocated, but by the weight that seems to lift from my chest.

I've only ever truly regretted the missed opportunity of *not* telling someone what I really felt about them, good or bad; not only did I miss out on what were probably some great experiences, there are also those toxic relationships I could have lost sooner but didn't for fear of rocking the boat.

So just say it! Get it out there! If you crash, you crash, but it's worth the risk...

Isn't it?

Wonder Why Wednesday - Sticks and Stones

Today's post comes hot on the heels of the announcement that Al Franken has *finally* been awarded his spot.

Love him or hate him, 8 months of debate over a count that showed he won 8 MONTHS AGO is ridiculous. Personally, I think he'll be great. He's got common sense by the square acre, and that goes a long way.

During all the time they were debating the issue, there was apparently a campaign against "Al Frankenstein".



Today's Wonder... Why all the name-calling?

Name-calling in general seems to be an easy thing to do, and I wonder if it isn't a pack mentality, a way to compartmentalize people into societal slots. High School is the worst for this, of course - nerds, jocks, stoners... everyone has their place, and if they don't, a place will be assigned to them by whoever is higher up in the pecking order. More often than not, everyone below will go with it, even the victim of the categorization.

Worse than the high-school name-callers are the people that don't ever seem to get past their school-age need to put people in what they feel is their place, and progress to belittling others. One can only guess that this is done out of a lack of self-assurance about the their *own* place in the world.

Meaner still are those who use those words as weapons. They use names like bitch and slut and racial slurs I won't sully my blog with, and they do it on purpose, to hurt and bring low people they feel aren't worth respect.

Jerks, in other words.

But there I go name-calling and compartmentalizing! Does that make it wrong? Obviously it's not good when people use name-calling as a means to hurt, but it's a pretty large leap from good-natured teasing to disparaging commentary.

I've called *myself* a nerd/dork/geek on this very blog at least 2 million times. Was I belittling myself? Of course not, and I've often called others by those same names without even thinking about it. More often than not, it's a pet-name sort of name-calling, and only done in a familiar way. I'd never call a complete stranger who tripped a klutz... but if The Child did it, I'd rag her a little. She'd do the same to me, and I'd laugh along with her.

Personally, I do try to use "names" only in fun, and when the fun is *shared* - but I don't always succeed. It's definitely something to think about, and the old adages hold true...

Think before you speak, and if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

I would like to point out that in looking for pictures for today's foray into my ever-wandering mind, I came across some serious gems. Thank you, Google Images!


Mexican Rockabilly Metal. YES PLEASE.


Dracula Vs Frankenstein, circa 1971.
I make that face all the time, usually right when someone is photographing me.


This site has blow-by-blow accounts of some of the worst horror movies of all time.
They watch them so you don't have to... although personally had I been alive when Ed Wood was making pictures, I would have been his biggest fan!

Wonder Why Wednesday - Pity Party

Before I get all wonder-like today, I would like to report that I got through exactly half of The Big Lebowski yesterday before falling asleep (through no fault of the movie - it was late!), but so far it's pretty funny. Not for the kids, this one, but funny!

John Goodman has never been hotter.

Moving on to today's Wonder Why, I'll warn you that it will *sound* like whining and self-pity, but it is in fact careful introspection. No, really!

Why is it I can't just win the lottery already?

It's really sad that a phone bill that magically jumps by 150.00 completely derails me for an entire month. (Thanks, Verizon, for keeping me informed of your policies about old and new plans and their relation to picture messages and airtime usage, by the way... super helpful.) My budget is already so tight I can practically hear my debit card scream every time I have to use it.

I'm not greedy, I don't need to win a million bucks, but couldn't I just have a small break from penny-pinchin' for awhile?

Sheesh.

Hm. (Reads back.)

I really ought to get myself some Brie, because I always like a little cheese with my WHINE!

To make myself feel better, it's time for one of my favorite words... PERSPECTIVE. Because it's all about perspective, isn't it? Yes, yes, I'm totally broke all the time and we all know it, but do I have a roof over my head? A car to drive? Some way in which to fund gas for said car? Food to eat, no matter how dull and spaghetti-filled?

Yes I do.

Do I live in a war-torn or impoverished country where I fear to go outside or let my daughter out of my sight?

No I do not.

Granted, as someone sage once said, "What makes our problems more important than someone else's is that they're *ours*". (I'm paraphrasing.) This is true, but when I really step back and look... I'm fine.

So maybe I oughta just quit my bitching, eh?

Hope you're having a wonderful week... check back tomorrow for an awesome photo that made me laugh.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Ah, Youth

So I'm getting off the bus yesterday, minding my own business, when I'm stopped in my tracks by a vision of my past:



Holy crap! It was like I had de-trained at Belmont for a second... in 1989.

I had to get a picture (he was very sweet though I never would have told him that), and I have to say that I think he was a little surprised by the fact that this clearly mom-looking woman knew what Liberty Spikes even *were*, much less that he was a) sporting them or b) that they were impressive. No really, those things take skill and dedication! Any girl who ever tried to feather their hair in the 80's can tell you how long *that* takes... imagine getting it not only symmetrical but skyward as well!

If pressed, I probably would have done the uncool thing and informed him that I'd known guys with that 'do before he was born, so I'm glad he didn't ask.

The baseball bat is a mystery, but I'm fairly certain it was an affectation, akin to the "staff" (read: broom handle painted purple and decorated with a barber-pole stripe of black electrical tape) that my one-time prom date carried with him everywhere for a summer in 1991. He was, granted, a bit of a tool but he never actually smacked anyone with it except himself on occasion. It was strictly for show.

Today's Wonder Why comes from the startling fit of nostalgia I got from seeing this kid and his friends hanging in Longmont (of all places, though I think they were probably waiting for the LX bus to squire them to Denver), though it's more of a "when" than a "why"...

When do we ever stop being teenagers in our heads? And do we want to, really?

I think it's a yes-and-no sort of answer.

On the one hand, there are plenty of things about being a teenager that I am intensely grateful I'll never have to experience again, but on the other there are those fantastic memories of being so young and so *free* - things I didn't appreciate when I had them. I was never a true rebel, I was always too conscious of consequence, but I had some incredible adventures (there's really no other word for them) wherein I had to figure things out and save myself, and it made me more independent and able to tread some really treacherous waters later in life.

Can we truly have that intense level of learning about life as we get older? Maybe, but not if we ever let go of that defiant kid that's still residing somewhere in our memories. I think we get too settled in our routines to be able to let go long enough to get into trouble, but I also think that we're much more conscious that if we *do* get into trouble, we won't have youth to blame.

It's an interesting inner dichotomy for me personally, since this kind of memory of rebellion and risk is something The Kid will most likely not experience to the extent that I did, which as her mommy I think is a good thing, but as a fellow human I wish otherwise sometimes.

A little.

I hope she has at least a taste of that kind of adventure, some sort of secret trial-and-error, at least a time or two. I don't want to be called by the police, mind you, but I sort of hope she has to figure her way out of a situation or two before she gets out on her own, secure in the knowledge that I'll be there if she needs me - but free to not call if she doesn't feel the need.

Truth be told, it's one of things that motivated me last year (although I needed pushing...thanks Nova) to get her to learn the ways of the RTD... I know I can trust her to be smart, but secretly, deep down where I'm still 17 and sporting a shaved head and oxbloods, I hope she uses that bus to get herself down to Denver (with a friend ohpleaseohplease) and have to dodge a situation or two, live that city-girl life a day here and there, and that I won't know about it until she's 22 and reliving the adventure, admitting her little bits of rebellion to me just like I did with my mom.

I'll act shocked, but I'll be smiling.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Don't Hate, Concatenate!

Today on Morning Edition (my usual a.m. diversion) they had a piece about Izzeldin Abuelaish, a Palestinian doctor who lost 3 daughters last year during an Israeli attack on the Gaza Strip and yet (despite having every right to be angry) is embracing an attitude of love and respect for his fellow humans - no matter who they are.

He's quoted as saying: "Military ways are futile, for both [sides]. Words are stronger than bullets. We have to understand each other. We have to respect each other as a human, as equal, and that the dignity of both is equal."

I was really inspired, and it gave a nice, hopeful start to my day, but it also made me wonder...

Why can't more people try to work together like this?

You just see it everywhere, all the time... this is not news. From Dems and Republicans to the many religions at war with each other to the prolife/prochoice debate and on and on, there's always some group sniping at another group, and it does nothing. Nobody every wins. Maybe if people were more willing to sit down and listen to each other, and try to find a common ground to work from, the world might be a more peaceful place.

Well, all we can do is try, right? A little goes a long way.

Oh, and in case you were wondering... the definition. It's a bit of a stretch, but it rhymed so nicely!

Happy Wednesday... tonight is home-made pizza night! Spinach and garlic and italian sausage on home-made dough (courtesy of Nova)? YES PLEASE.


Another lovely thing this morning; roses from a co-workers garden.

Wonder Why Wednesday - Patience Is A Virtue

Why, hello! Welcome to Mimi's Bad Poetry Corner!

"Why do you do this to us, Mimi?" you ask. "Please, stop the madness!"

Well, on second though I guess it is *kinda* much for a Wednesday morning, so I'll spare you. If you want to read it, let me know and I'll email you - but I can almost hear the crickets from here.

Instead I'll stick with the usual, although I'm a bit pensive this morning so our Wonder Why today is a bit more ponderous than normal.

The question for the day...

Why can't we be patient?

Why is it that we so often feel we must have everything *right now*, from super-speedy internet service while flying to a destination thousands of miles away in hours (too long even then) to an immediate resolution to a question we've got rolling in our collective head?

In particular, I think romance (for lack of a better word) suffers from this need for speed. I wonder (as I so often do) if our culture and current media are to blame for that one, with all it's perfected artifice and 2-hour films that seem to wrap everything up quickly and cleanly with nobody mentally maimed (at least not permanently) in the end. Or maybe it's the overabundance of instant accessibility... texting, email, even Facebook updates and their subsequent comments which seem to be the new way to communicate. That kind of immediacy has become *so* ingrained that now we want an instant answer to everything, from the mundane to the complex. We want to know the answer now - yes or no? Will it work? What's on your mind? Facebook update please.

But some things have to progress at their own pace. Push it and you might lose what you were hoping for altogether. Isn't it better to just wait awhile?

And so I'm taking that to heart... I'm learning to practice peaceful patience and just enjoy the little moments of happiness I'm allotted and be grateful for them, and not question things quite so much. It's good for the soul.

Tomorrow, I promise another Princess Pantha cheesecake thrill for your Thursday enjoyment, just to make today's introspection up to you. You're welcome!