Here's some awesome things I like not necessarily in order of importance:
Thing 2: A while back my brother found one of those plastic wrist bands like the one Lance Armstrong wore that said Live Strong and he wears it all the time. It says, "Noah White 2032" My brother's name is Noah White. He found a bracelet with his own name on it. Found it. Isn't that one of the most awesome things you've ever heard?
Thing 3: Sitting in the sun.
Thing 4: This girl's daily affirmation:
Thing 5: Talking with my mom.
Thing 6: Planning trips.
Thing 6 addendum: Taking trips.
Thing 7: Being so involved in a book that I can't put it down even when my eyes are shutting on their own and I can barely turn the pages because I've stayed up hours past my bedtime. HOW WILL THIS END?!
Thing 8: Laughing so hard that my abs hurt the next day. This has happened at least twice in the past couple of months during conversations with my younger sister. Talking with her is like doing a 20 minute core workout. Thanks, girl. I don't need a gym membership because of you.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Most people know I have noise issues. They've seemed magnified lately. And I've had extreme thoughts such as selling my house, quitting my job, and moving to some place called Quietville. If it existed - I'd so be there.
So then one day after I made a moderate rant on Twitter about my neighbor breaking the sound barrier with his Television (or something) my mom retweets saying, "I just googled Noise Sensitivity Disorders.... yikes!"
Thanks, Mom, that's encouraging.
So I google it too.
One of the sites I scanned about NS (noise sensitivity) said that some NS issues can be traced back to autoimmune disorders. Ah ha. This makes sense. I have one, it's called Rheumatoid Arthritis. RA and I are in the process of terminating our relationship. Currently we're working out the details on who gets the house after the divorce. If I sell it quick and move to Quietville RA is gonna be SOL. But no, really, I do notice that when the arthritis flares up loud, persistent, invasive (tell me how you really feel?) noise bothers me more and I feel more irrational to it.
So maybe the trick is to acknowledge these subtle flare-ups and learn some techniques to create quiet even when it's noisy. My dad suggested EFT and I think that's a good idea. Thanks, Dad.
While I'm totally self-analyzing here let me also say I think that I let myself sink into a slump. Today my mom said, "Even baseball players have slumps. Maybe you're just having a slump too." I can understand that. Great conversation, and I was all about the baseball analogies until we got onto chewing tobacco and ball scratching.
So yeah. Moving on. Math has never been my strongest subject but here's a basic equation:
Noise issues + slump = bad news.
Normally I'm all over my goals. Listing them and taking names. But for about two months I've been a little meh. Most of the time when I encounter a lack of motivation I can fix it by giving myself a good figurative kick in the pants. Lately I haven't felt like it. My kicker musta gotten broke. Or more to the point I've been a slacker. True. Sad, but true.
This doesn't exactly mean I haven't been doing anything but sitting on the couch watching TV and eating potato chips. It doesn't mean that at all because number one I don't get television service, not even the Spanish stations since the networks switched to digital, and number two I don't eat potato chips.
But what it does mean is that I haven't been sticking with my goal of writing at least one hour every day.
Finally last night I ignored the tempting pile of books I have out on loan from the library and went upstairs to work on my own novel. Which I hope will be loaned out to other book lovers (aka readers) one day.
The thing is, I love writing, but like exercise, often times getting started back up is the hardest part. Sometimes turning the computer on can be the hardest part. Sometimes I just need a slump buster or a good old kick in the pants. Last night was my Slump Buster SWAT team's first strike. Tonight Slump should be retreating in fear. Adios, Slump, I'm getting back to work!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Younger Sister: "Okay, so maybe I got amphibious confused with reptile. Well, do any other animals besides humans have sex for fun?"
Hold up. There's a gear shift. But I suddenly feel like the all-knowing. First because she'd ask me something like that at all. And second because I know. I'm not sure if I should be alarmed or glad that I know this.
Me: "Dolphins do."
Younger Sister: "Really?"
Me: "Pretty sure."
Younger Sister: "Well, (ever the skeptic) google it tomorrow and let me know for sure."
The next day the phone rings and I answer, "Hello?"
Younger Sister: "I googled it after we talked and dolphins do have recreational sex. Also they have homosexual tendencies."
Me: "That's interesting. I think I'd heard that."
Younger Sister: "We should start a church against the dolphins of Sodom and Gomorrah. Empty the oceans until they mend their wicked ways." I imagine her pounding her fist into the air. The conversation only got crazier from that point on. Somewhere in the midst I nearly died by guffawing. Before hanging up we both agreed that maybe we shouldn't be allowed to talk with each other anymore.
That resolve lasted less than 24 hours.
She and I both have this fear that our conversations are monitored by the government. Mostly due to something regarding a passport and a microwave. But I plead the Fifth on that. Neither wild horses nor homosexual dolphins could drag the story out of me.
A recent conversation:
Me: "I wrote some lyrics and I was thinking that maybe you could do some rap on it once I've got it worked out."
My Youngest Brother: "You already do the beat?"
Me: "No. I figured I'd write the music or if you wanted to you could, but it has to be sung by a woman. That's the point of the lyrics."
My Youngest Brother: "I can't do beats. Everytime I try to do a beat it sounds like something the devil is gonna pop out of."
I nearly fall of the couch as I envision the devil popping out of a beat. Of course, he's wearing red and carrying a pitchfork. This is not an Angel of Light devil. Beat popping devils are horned and mustachioed. Obviously. I wipe the laughter spit from my chin as I write my brother's words in my handy notebook. After my spasms have died down I tell him, "Okay. I'll write the music then."
She and I talk mostly by text or when I'm in town. Occasionally by email. Word to word conversations only happen when we've really got something to say.
Our conversations go something like this [by text]:
Older Sister: "The Intercostal Clavicle!"
Me: "Ha! I can't give you anything but love, baby."
It makes a lot of sense if you know the movie Bringing Up Baby. Which I promptly went online to buy so that she and I could watch it together when I came into town. "Look, David, I was born on the side of a hill."
Older Sister: "I just had a george mcdonald goblin princess moment. Now i need 2 read it again. Remember mom readin it 2 us as we drove thru the virginias?"
Me: "Absolutely. I haven't read that in forever. What kind of goblin princess moment?"
Older Sister: "Just a feelin. Sittin on da bus listenin 2 music. I thought thats da goblin princess and had a sudden stronge desire 2 be a goblin."
I remember making some weird allusion about her and I being two old ladies living in a haunted house and having lizards for pets instead of cats. I'm not really sure how I got to that but what can I say? We have a connection. She understood.
Older Sister: "Why i wanted 2 be a goblin i don't kno. I think they were the bad guys. Yes? But i like ur idea."
Which means I'd better find a cool, creepy house to buy so we can live out our lives in peace with our lizards.
Second Youngest Brother: "Your mom is going to bed."
Me: "Dang it. No, your mom is going to bed."
His silence is enough to prove that my arguing skills really suck.
The next day while we're driving some place he snaps his fingers and the traffic light changes to green.
Me: "You don't have magical powers."
But I really feel like he does. Every time my car approaches a light it turns red. And he has this ability to override that. I should pay him to ride with me every where. I know I'd save on time. After all time is money. So there you have it.
Says my Not-Really-Older Brother: "It reminds me of Enders Game with the two siblings blogging about politics and changing the world. It's the least we could hope for."
I think you can expect good things, if not from the both of us, at least from him.
As for the rest of us and our conversations--Oy vey, is possibly the best expression to use.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Each week day morning a little before 6:00 my neighbor leaves his house. And by leaves his house I mean he slams his door causing a tremor which probably registers a 7.2 on the Richter magnitude scale. A quake of that magnitude is a major one and can cause serious damage over large areas. Which means it wakes me up and causes me serious dream damage over the large area of my sanity. I figure I'm losing approximately 5 to 13 minutes of sleep each morning. If I take the average of these two numbers I estimate that I'm being jolted out of about 45 minutes of sleep each week. This adds up to 180 minutes per month. 2340 minutes per year. Which, if my calculator is handling these numbers correctly, means I'm losing 39 hours, hours!, of sleep a year. Sheesh.
My solutions: (a) Write a ranting blog about it. (b) Talk with my neighbor about the value of gently closing the door instead of slamming. (c) Participate in a sleep-deprivation study. (d) Wake up even earlier and bang vigorously on his front door to tell him, "You can't control my sleep habits if I control yours, yo." (f) Move out of my townhome into a secluded, reclusive, quiet home. (e) Get therapy for my noise pollution issues.
Speaking of Noise Pollution Issues I've got them big time. When my brother lived with me he used to say, "It's just noise," as if that would somehow make the pounding walls and indoor thunderstorms less bone rattling. Somehow less offensive to me. It worked occasionally. But you know, every now and then I'd like a nice blanket of silence. In my own home. At one point I looked into soundproofing but it's a little out of my budget for the time being. And soundproofing usually works better if it's done on the noise side. I researched it. A lot.
This brings me to the idea of Utilitarianism vs. Deontology; the struggle of good for the most people at one time or good for self (If you know these terms and I'm using them incorrectly please just give me credit for using big words, pretend I know what I'm saying, shake your head at my ignorance and keep reading).
Because you see, when my neighbor is enjoying his music at mach number levels and breaking the sound barrier with sub-woofing objects of sound, it infringes on my ability to enjoy the solace of silence or even my own music at sub-mach levels. This seems drastically unfair. Now, my neighbor is a nice guy, and several times--driven to the Extremity of taking action--I've asked him to turn his music down and he's complied. Maybe he thinks it's unfair to not be able to enjoy his music at a decible level capable of mulching tree branches or vibrating small mammals to death. I don't know. Maybe here we're just dealing with the eternal struggle for a balance between two individuals. Dominance of my rights or his? Community living is all about give and take. Live and learn. Live and let die. I'm all for peaceful living but at times I feel like challenging the neighborhood noise makers to mortal combat. If I win, more silence for me. If I lose, I guess I get a pretty permanent silence. So it seems like a win/win situation.