My JackOLantern has contracted a flesh eating disease called squirrelitis. 

Playing With Words Again

September 25, 2003 in my early days of blogging I wrote a post about
Bellybuttons. I was referring to bellybuttons in the metaphorical sense of course, meaning that sometimes I think I'm strange for having certain thoughts or feelings until I tell someone else about them then they say "Oh I do that too!"

I'm stealing an idea from Going Jesus, to recycle that post in a new and exciting format. I've taken that post and translated it into German using Alta Vista's Babelfish Translator so that it reads like this:

Bauchnabel

I'm, welches am Alter 33 I'm nicht die einzige Person in der Welt mit einem Bauchnabel herausfindet. Leute sagen "Well selbstverständlich! Ich habe ein auch! SEE?" Und ich sage "OH, meine Güte, die Sie! Recht dort im gleichen Punkt wie meine! Wie wonderful!"
Und L dachte, daß ich gerade sonderbar war.

Then, when translated back to English, it comes out like this:

Belly Navel

I'm, which at the age 33 I'm the only person in the world with a belly navel does not find out. People say "Well naturally! I have also! SEE?" And I legend "OH, my quality, it! Quite there in the same point as my! As wonderful!"
And L thought that I was strange straight.

Does anyone else think this is absolutely hilarious, or am I simply strange straight!? (strangely straight?) hmmmmm

Lucy In The Sky With Puppies

6 days left at this job and what a weird mood I'm in today: nostalgic/introspective/sad/playful/paranoid/excited. [not about work, about life in general - I always get this way with new adjustments]

I want to remember the fun things we did, the way we were so comfortable. To remember how we picked up smooth worn rocks on the beach for hours and went away with our pockets bulging. The way we felt on our first date. The time we raked leaves and then the wind picked up so much our efforts became futile and we found ourselves crumpled in laughter beside our empty leaf bags not even caring anymore that we couldn't finish the job. How you asked for me when your mom died because it was me that you wanted with you. The time we ate bad pizza and got super sick together in my tiny one-bathroomed house. That laugh you have when you're tired and everything is hilarious.

I want to figure out all my crap and a perfect surefire way to straighten it all out.

I want to cry for the way you are abandoned and isolated, to fend for yourself in this world and how your demons keep you there. I want to cry for the things that happened to you that make you duck and defer, asking pardon even for being you. Lovely, amazing you. I want to cry for the tools and blessings that weren't given to you as a child so that now you beat your fists against the chest of God, not knowing how to fight anyone but yourself.

I want to play on the monkeybars and swing on the swings and wrestle and play tag and leapfrog and laugh at each others' hiccups until we pee our pants. Then I want to go inside and drink Orange Crush and play Monopoly until we're bored or hungry. And then I want to watch the absolute most funnest movie we ever did see and then go to bed and crawl in our bunk beds and play with the flashlight shadows and whisper and giggle until one of us falls asleep.

I'm paranoid you don't like me as much as I like you. I'm second guessing and thinking I think too much. I'm scared you might fly away and not come back in the spring. And I'm paranoid that I'm screwing up by overblogging and exposing my insanity.........

I'm looking out over an expanse of tomorrows again, having no clue what is next for a job and feeling like running ahead and getting it all going RIGHT NOW! I'm going to MEET NEW PEOPLE! I'm going to learn new things! I'm going to be walking into a different place every day and not driving an hour to get there. We're going to make improvements to the kitchen and we're going to have a DISHWASHER!!! I get a month off next month to figure it all out! I may just work out 8 days a week and lose 30 pounds and get a black belt in Karate. We're going to vote, and I wonder who will be the next pres. And I'm excited to see who wins and to have all this stupid campaigning over with! It's time to start Christmas shopping and it's time to make pumpkiny things and that's all so very exciting!

And, well.... that's just how I feel today.....

If You Drop It, Will It Bounce?

I saw a cartoon the other day that I liked a lot. It was the Mutt cartoon, or at least I think that's what it is called. It was in Saturday's newspaper sitting on a table in a coffee shop (Common Ground, for you locals) so I couldn't just tear it out. The kitty (mutt?) and his bird friend were sitting there and some birds flew up and invited the bird friend to fly south with them. So the bird turns to his cat friend and says "Hey, do you mind if I fly south with those birds?" and the Cat says "Sure, I understand." So the bird flies off and the cat says "Some people can't help being fair weather friends."
It really struck me that this little cartoon was a great illustration of a good friendship. Not grabby, anxious, or distrustful, but free and grace full.

Do you like my perfume?

Last night, in the middle of the night, I woke up and remembered the dream I had the night before. I was playing some sort of Age of Empires reality game using sugar cannisters for towers while discussing politics with someone in the next room.

This morning I woke up from a scary dream about my old basement where the washer kept filling and filling and filling and the water got so near the top that I was suddenly filled with paralyzing and overwhelming panic. It was one of those things that would be a pain for sure in the real world but in Dreamyland random things like that occasionally signal horrific impending doom, striking terror in my heart and waking me right up. However, true to my Stephen King Novel roots, it's fun to mix humor and horror. So in this very terrifying dream scene I also threw in that someone had left a pile of miniature padded bras on top of the dehumidifier for me to wash and return to their rightful owners.

If We Were A Rock 'n' Roll Band

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
We'd travel all over the land.
We'd play and we'd sing and wear spangly things.
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
And we were up there on the stand,
The people would hear us and love us and cheer us.
Hurray for that rock 'n' roll band!

If we were a rock 'n' roll band,
Then we'd have a million fans.
We'd giggle and laugh and sign autiographs,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

If we were a rock 'n' roll band.
The people would all kiss our hands.
We'd be millionaires and have extra long hair,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band.

But we ain't no rock 'n' roll band,
We're just seven kids in the sand.
With homemade guitars and pails and jars
And drums of potato chip cans.

Just seven kids in the sand.
Talk'n and wavin' our hands.
And dreamin' and thinkin' oh wouldn't it be grand,
If we were a rock 'n' roll band?"

-- another Shel Silverstein poem

Interesting Strategy

Michael Main has an interesting way of fighting back against a website he feels is
untrustworthy. I think his approach is rather creative.

Disclaimer: The opinions on Michael's blog are not necessarily the opinions of Captainwow or its employees. No research has been completed to obtain FDA approval. Check with your physician before launching any new diet or exercise plan. Side effects may include spontaneous laughter and/or dry mouth.

Random Thoughts

I can feel myself holding my neck in such a way that I know will give me terrible knots. I sense it then I relax then 10 minutes later I'm doing it again… AAAGH! I feel like yelling at myself: "RELAX!!! HURRY!! DO IT NOW!!!"

I'm wrapping up the loose ends in my job so that the new person doesn't have too very many of my messes to clean up. I remember back to when I took over this job and the nightmare of trying to figure out the filing system (or lack of) and the mess of piles upon piles of stuff that hadn't been touched for months. At least I will have attempted to leave a clean slate as much as possible. It feels so good it makes me wish I'd done it sooner for myself!

Today I've been all over the map already. So far - and it's not even quite noon - I've had an "I hate everybody and I'm angry with the world!" moment. I've had an "I love you man!" moment (but it was sincere - I wasn't after anyone's beer) and an "Oh that is SOO SO SAD! I think I'm going to CRY!" moment.

I discovered a package of microwave popcorn in my rarely used desk drawer and that feels a little like Christmas.

There 112 cannisters of yummy chocolate Truffles in my office and I can't eat any of them because they're client gifts… the torture… I may just go mad.

It's a byoootiful day out.

And it's lunch time. I'm outta here!

The Pear Story

I've been wanting to tell my Pear story. I've been encouraged to write my Pear story and I couldn't figure out why it was so hard to write until I actually started to write it. Telling it verbally to my close friends seems so much easier. Though I'm pretty sure that lots of people can identify with some of it, I still feel shy about spotlighting some of my insecurities. Like the cat who trusts her environment enough to roll on her back and show her belly, but doesn't mean for anyone to actually scratch it.

There's been this thought rolling around in my head for most of my life and it has many variations on the same theme. The theme is something like this:
"If I were prettier/cuter/more beautiful, things would be better."

Kids say cruel things to each other, and sometimes the words stick. Sometimes they roll off and cause no lasting harm. For me though, the words "you're ugly" stuck to me like tar. That lie worked it's way into my little girl heart and festered there.

As I've grown up more this thought comes to mind less and less. I have seen a bit more of the world and know that this is not necessarily true. I know people who are quite pretty who's lives aren't made any easier by that. And I also have grown into being able to see myself from a slightly more objective perspective and see beauty there ---- at least more often. But there are times when this whisper still comes curling around my brain and wacks me out a bit.

One of those times was about a year ago. It was a beautiful fall day. Amazing Man and I were on our way to our Sunday Night Gathering. My good friend Pat I had spent the whole day hanging out, doing fun things, and as I looked back over the day the thought came to me: "Oh, no! I took up her whole day!" Then I thought "Hm, I bet she's not sitting there thinking "Oh I took up her whole day." And I thought "Why do I do this to myself? What if I just assumed that people LIKED spending time with me? What if I just figured that I am fun to be with and that my friends enjoy my presence as much as I enjoy theirs?" Then came the whisper: "That would be easier to do if I were prettier." I knew that didn't even make any sense. And I knew where it came from. It brought with it a dull heaviness as I was about to enter a social situation.

Right about then we pulled up to our friends' house and as I walked up the steps to the porch I saw that there was a lone yellow pear sitting in the grass in the front yard. I'm not sure why it was there but in the tiny millisecond it took my brain to record that image, I thought "What if I were just to assume people thought I was really beautiful? What if I just acted as if I were the most beautiful person I knew and also assumed that people enjoyed my presence because of who I am?" And it made me grin and I tried it for the next couple of hours. It was great fun.

Now you're probably wondering what the heck self image has to do with pears. I'll explain: People come in all shapes and sizes. And one of the things that is pretty common for people with "bad self image" issues is that they envy the features of someone else that they do not possess themselves. I've always admired women who were the opposite of me in all kinds of ways. Specifically, Pear Shaped Women. Smaller on top, larger on the bottom. I would hear them saying things like "Oh, I have such a big butt." And I'd say "Oh but you HAVE one, and that's good. At least there's some shape there...Me, I've got no shape at all!" And on and on it went. We all want what we don't have, blah blah blah. Somewhere along the way I got the idea that women shaped like me were ugly and women shaped like hourglasses or pears were more attractive and that was that. So when I saw the pear sitting in the lawn it reminded me that people come in all shapes and sizes. And it reminded me of beauty.

When I tried assuming that other people would find me attractive or likeable it was really freeing. What it did for me was that it made me less self conscious. It freed me up to relax and be present with the people around me. I caught on in that time that feeling ugly or undesired as a person/friend is pretty painful, but it's also inherently self centered and carries with it all sorts of wierdness. This isn't a miracle story, it doesn't mean I'm all better now. I still struggle with this whole thing - though even less - but I can see that this experience made a difference in my life.

So that's why I have a thing about pears now. They are a very simple reminder of a gift I was given one fine fall day that helped bring me further along in my healing journey.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

So very sleepy today…

I have a cold so I woke up last night many times to blow my nose or take medicine or shove more Kleenex up my nose.

(Oh come ON now, you do it too!)

I dreamed I had very hairy armpits. Like, Jet Black Hair, Hairy Armpits.

Does the Pickle have an interpretation?