Wednesday, March 8, 2006

Woolen Socks and Finding Mittens

my anti-blogging friend who won't read my blog apparently now has a blog.

and i do believe he still doesn't read mine.

ah burn.

(if there is even one person who recognizes that reference, just in written form, then i have enough readers. it doesn't even matter if i only have one reader.)

there are reasons for things that i do that i don't even know why i do. but i do them. so there must have been a reason. so i must know the reason for that thing that i do that i don't even know why i do.

... there are also other reasons for the things that i do that i know and could never explain to you. and i think that to think that you know me and know all all of this that you miss, and you fail to exist in my sphere, here to here, as i'm wandering there, breathing air, breathing are, what's around, what's afar, you are near, i'm subpar, little bear, little star.

*stares off into space with goofy smile on face*

so isn't that weird about my anti-blogging friend who is still anti-blogging. kind of like undercover cops. pretending to be prostitutes and drug dealer. effing blognarc is what he is.

*virtual eff finger*

one, two, three minutes to dinner, gramma.

but imagine we actually called her gramma. frigging weird.

... but seriously, who says booya? like seriously says booya?

it's effing cold in here. i think i shut the vent in my heater the last time i rearranged my furniture. cause i think i'm paranoid. specifally? about the bed being over the vent. it was an insignificant action then. but now, with the new *closed door policy*, the temperature decrease is significant.

here is why this is a dilemna:

a) i will have to move the bed to find out if this is the problem. (problem solved if i find that the vent was never closed, in which case the temperature change cannot be attributed that that and the new closed door policy is the causal link, and then the only way i can get the temperature back to a reasonable level will be to open the door. which officially violates the new closed door policy, as its only rule is the keep the door closed. in which case, all hell breaks loose);

b) if i find that the vent is indeed closed, it is not simply a matter of opening the vent. this is simply because i am still paranoid. and since it has been closed all this time, i still know nothing about the effects of a flamatorious nature that heating vents have under beds. so i still don't know if i can open it. cold: 2, a: 0;

c) it occurs to me that if the vent is open, the new closed door policy may not be entirely at fault. it may also be the placement of the bed over the vent, thereby blocking the passage of the heat. in which case, i will have to rearrange my room to avoid violating the new open door policy. which is basically impossible for me to do as i have found the most ideal configuration for my room furnishings. cold: 3, a:0;

now, i know you are all saying, clearly it is obvious (redundant much) that the easiest solution is to violate the new closed door policy. it wouldn't require any action on my part and would save me the hassle of remembering to implement the new open door policy. open the door, you fool! save yourself the trouble! score one for team a!

but it's not so simple. in order to avoid another repeat skin crawling allergic reaction to my cats (or possibly it's just dust.......... in which case, the whole debate is a nobrainer, because the new open door policy is unnecessary if not totally unreasonable as i'd love to have the cats back in the room. i miss them) the cats have to be out of my room. the room looks pretty snazzy after de-allergification. de-histamination?

so allergy tests are in order anyway, and allergy shots.... which, i guess allergy shots are supposed to make you unallergic or something?... well, then i could just have the door open anyway. right? then i don't need the new closed door policy. i effing hate the closed door policy anyway. it's making my life hell... hardly. i am hardly home, but i am sure if i were i would have cracked like two hours after implementing it. anyways. i am away most of march anyway. so they don't need to be in here without me anyway. anyway. word's lost all meaning to me.

mug. mug. mug. mug.
parrot. parrot. parrot. parrot.

so, hopefully it's not long before we can axe the new policy. i'll be sure to send out a memo regarding the change. change-back.


what's an effing tallywack.

i find myself screaming in children voices in my head. my outward appearance remains stoic while inside i scream 'LEAVE ME ALONE!!!'




i can hear it so clearly. and i'm amazed i don't shout it out. i'm amazed that i stop myself from doing it and i don't even notice that i am trying. and i'm amazed at this same process' absence in children. and wonder where they learn it from. and how exactly they learn it. i mean, yes, i know we're pretty much always 'don't say that. don't do that. stop screaming.' but we are basically presuming that we are teaching the child, as we ourselves were so well taught and superior to children because we don't say that and don't do that and stop screaming because we wouldn't have the inclination to say it or do it or sream. but we are not teaching the child to not want to say that or do that or scream, we are teaching them to simply repress these inclinations. but they are always with us.

maybe i didn't make the difference clear. or maybe the difference isn't clear. or maybe what's the difference and who cares?

but it seems different to me, and i care. and it's weird. and it confuses me. and children confuse me and amaze me and confuse me and amaze me and confuse me and amaze me again. and i love them and hate them and love them and hate them and love them and hate them again.

i never hate them. i just couldn't think of a better word.

i am convinced that all children have one of five voices. or maybe five voices per gender. and maybe it is a different five voices depending on the language. but in general, five voices. seriously. there are a limited number of voices that the children draw upon, and other than that, if you heard a dozen no. one voices and one of them was even a child you knew, you wouldn't be able to tell what voice belonged to the child you knew. cause they were all no. one voices. then when you get older, you get your own voice. it's like a rite of passage. and then everyone has their own unique voice and it's so easy to tell other people apart even on the phone, to the point that it's almost a super power. that's pretty amazing. i hear all the same ten kids wherever i go. i could swear they've been following me around ever since i knew kids. and by child voices, i think i am limiting my definition of child to the under six range. so i guess, two or three to six since babies don't talk.


i'm not sure and my back hurts from picking up baby a million times at the museum today.

big baby hates me and is a big baby.

gotta love it.

tomorrow, i go it alone. i will post if i survive.


Blogger Rally said...

I am antiblog too. I wouldnt blog because it is beneath me, and only wierdos do it.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006 11:55:00 p.m.  

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