Sunday, January 24, 2010

Keep Up With Me Here

I know I've made the comment that I'm thinking way too fast and that's the reason some of my posts come across a little off-the-wall, but try and stay with me on this one.

I was just leaving a post on my sister's blog when I realized I have not been taking full advantage of all the features and choices presented to me in doing so. When I'm leaving a comment, I'm given the option to "Choose an Identity"! Wow! The possibilities are marching through my head so fast I can't grasp them all!

I think today I'd like to be . . .

Ok, well, I guess I'll stay with Justme. Mainly because that's really the only viable choice I'm given but I've worked so hard to become Justme, I'm not sure I'd know where to start if I really truly had the opportunity to be someone else. Maybe I could build me one of those snazzy handheld computers they used on "Quantum Leap" and I could just zap into being someone else for a minute or two. Just to see what it was like. I can't imagine (assuming I survived the breakdown and reconstruction of my cells as I travelled through time and space) how much more understanding and compassionate and empathetic I'd be. I guess since technology is still lacking in this area, I'm glad I have the Savior in my life who tries to teach me things without continuously zapping me from one body/location/situation/time to another.

I'm going to think about it, though. If I go missing then I've thought of someone I'd really rather be and, remember on this day in history, you were warned!

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Where the Eyes Go . . .

Interesting weather this last week. I was driving in snow one minute and a mile or two down the road, there's nothing but dry road, a few miles later, fog. Amazing, I think. It was however pretty nasty Thursday morning and I couldn't get a hold of anyone to get permission to miss an 8:30am meeting in Brigham City, so I pushed the 4-wheel-drive button and switched into "Dedicated Employee" mode. The roads were not pretty, to say the least. Coming home an hour later wasn't much different, either.

After taking the Tremonton exit off the freeway, I could see a truck off in that basic V-shaped grassy (in the summer) area between this road I'm on because I'm getting off the freeway and the other road that I'd be on if I were getting on the freeway. The truck was backwards and about halfway into the field. So I'm trying to figure out how he ended up like that. The tracks in the freshly falling snow don't confirm my first, and most likely, scenario. From the visible evidence, it looks like he must have just stopped, shifted into reverse, and backed his way carefully into the snow-covered field, bending a guard post in the process. That doesn't make sense, though. Not that things have to make sense. And I'm old enough to realize that 'sense' is in the eyes of the beholder, if it's there at all.

As I'm being guilty of rubber-necking, I realize the front of my vehicle is aiming towards the same area. Maintaining calm control, I straighten up and pay better attention to making it to the stop sign, to my work and safely out of this storm. And then I'm reminded of a quote I heard in Stake Conference awhile back,

As my eyes go, so goes my mind.

As my mind goes, so goes my heart.

As my heart goes, so goes my soul.

It was just a very concrete lesson for me on an abstract concept and I haven't been able to get it out of my thoughts. If I hadn't realized I, myself, was veering off the road (following where my eyes were looking), I could have found myself down there, right next to the pickup truck. The exact same pickup truck that I had been trying to figure out the logistics of how it got in its current predicament. Maybe something caught his attention and, as his eyes went, so went his truck.

Two lessons for me:

  1. Be less judgmental - "There but for the grace of God go I".

  2. Be more aware of what my eyes are fixed on (and just how long they stay fixed there).

So, maybe the moisture of this storm did more for my current growing season than for Alan's garden next summer.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

I'm Playing

I'm in the redesign mode so don't panic. I'm bored with my blog design so I'm experimenting. Your patience is most humbly requested.

Friday, January 15, 2010

One Brief Moment . . .

. . .  in the life of someone with an Addictive Personality Disorder NOS (not otherwise specified). Here is a brief test to see 1) if you suffer from this disorder and 2) if you have any empathy for anyone who might have this disorder.

Question #1.  From your life experiences, identify the following picture:

So many possibilities, huh? And I'm sure they're all good ideas. However, this is actually a picture of seven (7) chocolate chip cookies. Minus, of course, the chocolate chips. What can I say? I needed chocolate and that was the only chocolate I could find in the house. It probably took all of 30 seconds to break down the cookies into ice cream topping sized chunks in order to locate and devour all of the chocolate chips. You will notice the cookies were not broken down into uniform size chunks. That is because, as far as I can tell, my sister, aka Iman, aka Lily, aka Hogger of all Good Things in Life, pretty well got all the OCD genes. I'm not totally without special capabilities, however. I am a quick learner. Since the cookies were frozen, I was quick to take note that the chocolate chips would also be frozen. Therefore, I let them melt in my mouth so as not to create the need for another crown.

Question #2: From your life experiences, identify the following pictures:

AerialView:                                                                   Ground View:

If you guessed an archaeological dig site, you would be the closest one to accurate. The information about this particular site states I can have approximately sixteen (16) chances to uncover treasures. Therefore, I staked it out. Here again you will notice the segments are not identical in size or shape. I refer you back to the explanation accompanying the answer to the first question and remind you I was not given a chance to claim any OCD markers on my DNA. In the perfect world, (and who lives there, I would like to know?) it should take any reasonably sane person approximately sixteen (16) days to find all of the ruins buried in this frozen tundra. Not me.

In my world, it can actually be done in one night if everything is misaligned like it is now. But it is possible to unearth (or should I say, un-ice cream) the precious relics and learn all there is to know about whatever civilization inhabited this frozen, colorless world. Obviously they struggled when it came to trying to think outside the box, which contributed to its extinction but to my good fortune. It's much easier to maintain necessary security when the dig site is contained. This adventure is absolutely no exception. After only a few short minutes of careful and meticulous digging, I was already able to piece together a few tidbits about this Lost World. Without argument, the people who used to live here were a fun loving, well rounded tribe of people who would don little brown hats to go and play in the blinding, freezing ground. Which also could have been what led to their extinction.


Or, their peaceful little world was taken over by evil little cookie balls, distinguishable from good little cookie balls only by the little brown hats they wore. (But, who, you might ask, wore the little brown hats? The Evil Little Cookie Balls or the Good Little Cookie Balls?)

Sweet Addictions. Buried in my genetic makeup just like the ruins of Pompeii are buried in centuries of hardened dirt. What more can I say? Oh, yeah, except to emphasize that there is no perfect little world where it takes approximately sixteen (16) days to excavate a site of this magnitude. Unless, of course, you do not suffer, as I do, from an Addictive Personality.

But if you do, you know that when the need for whatever the current addiction is arises, obtaining satisfaction is the primary goal. Forget the toothpicks and yarn!

I am having to be more careful about hiding my addictions, however, as I don't want to be accused of being a bad influence on my grandkids. Besides, I have grandchildren who can read now and so it won't be as easy to pass off the ice cream in Gramma's freezer as plain vanilla when they can read that there should be chunks of stuff in there. And not yarn fuzz.

I am not randomly rambling. You're just not thinking as fast as I am.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Maxed out on the Max Blahg

And so, it has come to this . . . the end.

Pointless, random, idiotic, mindless, and/or caffeinated as it might be, it's got to be put to rest. Call it empty, shallow, transparent, tasteless (never) or immature . . . it doesn't matter.


   And lest you should think these posts were only about Max and Maxine . . . prepare yourself for my first annual contest. The prize is yet to be determined. Post your votes along with your reasoning as comments to this blahg.


I wait with baited breath to tally the votes and announce the winner at some future date.

I am not randomly rambling. You're just not thinking as fast as I am!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

And How Are You Doing????

I am fine. Not sure I picked a good time of my life to quit taking antidepressants, though! Thank goodness for good friends like Max who put up with whatever I dish out!

And who do we have here on the right??? None other than the shapely . . . Maxine! Doesn't every inch of her scream, "Reach out and grab me!"? I was a little leery about whether or not Max would accept Maxine - After all she is rather transparent. Max hides behind his smooth aluminum exterior but Maxine definitely has some issues bottled up insider her, too. But, not to worry, Max is obviously quite taken with Maxine. Too bad she's not the tall, slender model type that can be found in Illinois. Out here I have to be content with a slightly shorter, stockier genetic misfire. However, (girls . . . repeat this with me . . .) IT'S WHAT INSIDE THAT COUNTS!

However . . . as you can see . . . by 2:00am, Maxine is a less substantial participant in this whole pointessly dramatic episode. She's beyond transparent. She's beyond shallow. She's empty. In fact, Maxine is consumed with emptiness. Not only does she feel used, Max feels somehow responsible. Maybe there was more he could have done to protect her from being so selfishly emptied.

Alas, Maxine has nothing more to contribute and Max's carbonation is beginning to bubble in frantic fear that he will be next. Only time and desperation will tell.


And with that, I say, "Good Night".