You Can't Quote Me ...
Monday, June 25, 2007
"Try and live your life the way you wish other people would live theirs." - Raymond Burr
"We cannot change anything until we accept it. Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses." - C. G. Jung
"Half of the harm that is done in this world is due to people who want to feel important." - George Eliot
"The gent who wakes up and finds himself a success, hasn't been asleep." - Wilson Mizner
"We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world." - Buddha
"A smile is the chosen vehicle for all ambiguities." - Herman Melville
Labels: Thoughts
A Daily Om Dose of Thought
"Usually, terrible things that are done with the excuse that progress requires them are not really progress at all, but just terrible things." - Russell Baker
Burdensome Feelings
Blaming Others
Burdensome Feelings
Blaming Others
As we begin to truly understand that the world outside of us is a reflection of the world inside of us, we may feel confused about who is to blame for the problems in our lives. If we had a difficult childhood, we may wonder how we can take responsibility for that, and in our current relationships, the same question arises. We all know that blaming others is the opposite of taking responsibility, but we may not understand how to take responsibility for things that we don’t truly feel responsible for. We may blame our parents for our low self-esteem, and we may blame our current partner for exacerbating it with their unconscious behavior. Objectively, this seems to make sense. After all, it is not our fault if our parents were irresponsible or unkind, and we are not to blame for our partner’s bad behavior.
Perhaps the problem lies with the activity of blaming. Whether we blame others or blame ourselves, there is something aggressive and unkind about it. It sets up a situation in which it becomes difficult to move forward under the burdensome feelings of shame and guilt that arise. It also puts the resolution of our pain in the hands of someone other than us. Ultimately, we cannot insist that someone else take responsibility for their actions; only they can make that choice when they are ready. In the meantime, if we want to move forward with our lives instead of waiting around for something that may or may not happen, we begin to see the wisdom of taking the situation into our own hands.
We do this by forgiving our parents, even if they have not asked for our forgiveness, so that we can be free. We end the abusive relationship with our partner, who may never admit to any wrongdoing, because we are willing to take responsibility for how we are treated. In short, we love ourselves as we want to be loved and create the life we know we deserve. We leave the resolution of the wrongs committed against us in the hands of the universe, releasing ourselves to live a life free of blame.
It's Short Enough to Read, So Read It!
Sunday, June 24, 2007
"Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize them." - Anne Landers
Okay. For those who don't want to read any of my long-winded blogs, this is for you.
I slept like a cat this morning. An ant bit me and swelled my hand. I should have taken a picture. It's gone down now, but I had to take five or six benadryl pills, and that made me sleep like a cat. I didn't go exercise today, but I got a lot of Spanish writing done. I'm writing down all of my Spanish rules in one place. I'll be working on my Spanish homework tomorrow.
I still love the language, but I don't see myself minoring in it unless I live abroad first.
My aunt said if I go to the family reunion in Akron, she has got a place for me to stay. If I don't get this scholarship, I will have to scrape up $1400 for school next year. Going there seems like a waste of money. Should I go?
184 words, including this. Is that short enough?
Okay. For those who don't want to read any of my long-winded blogs, this is for you.
I slept like a cat this morning. An ant bit me and swelled my hand. I should have taken a picture. It's gone down now, but I had to take five or six benadryl pills, and that made me sleep like a cat. I didn't go exercise today, but I got a lot of Spanish writing done. I'm writing down all of my Spanish rules in one place. I'll be working on my Spanish homework tomorrow.
I still love the language, but I don't see myself minoring in it unless I live abroad first.
My aunt said if I go to the family reunion in Akron, she has got a place for me to stay. If I don't get this scholarship, I will have to scrape up $1400 for school next year. Going there seems like a waste of money. Should I go?
184 words, including this. Is that short enough?
Labels: Calls for Response, Humor, It Really Happened, Thoughts
Can't We All Just Pee Along?
"I took a lie detector test the other day. No I didn't." - Steven Wright
I'm a woman. A woman that happens to use public restrooms when necessary. Like tonight. I was at a popular restaurant for several hours. I have this thing where I will go to a place to study because I tend to not do it in my room. I was going to a Japanese place, but it was closed, so I went to the Waffle House. I hate going to this particular Waffle House during the time of day I was going because the people there have no sense of cleanliness. I had a feeling that I was going to actually want something to eat, and I did not want that heffa fixing my food, so I drove around and ended up at this kind of restaurant that serves good versions of basic American food--burgers, steaks, catfish ... stuff like that.
I felt like I could get some coffee in a coffee cup since they have busboys that clean the dishes (as opposed to the servers having to serve and wash dishes like at the Waffle House). After several cups of coffee (and yes, I'm finally getting to the point, but come on ... you know me, I wander sometimes) I needed to go pee. I found the ladies' room which had four stalls. I went into one and, heavens to mergatroid and thank the bathroom gods (because I really had to pee), the toilet seat was not peed on and there was an ample amount of toilet tissue for my back forty and other place (no need for too many details--it is [supposedly] a family blog). I did my business (okay, you don't really want to know how I pee, and if you do, then you need to stop reading my blog, you big freak! Okay, not you Dutch Bitch, but anyone else that is entertaining the thought [okay, Renee, not you either] and I mean stop now ... eewww!) flushed, checked that everything went down the hole, washed my hands, took the paper towel that I dried my hands with, opened the door, and returned to my life at the table.
A few hours--and a few more cups of coffee--later, I returned to the ladies' room. The stall with which I became familiar was available. I opened and the bathroom gods switched off their "on duty" sign, because, though the toilet was flushed and ready for seating, there was no more toilet tissue!
Needless to say, I gasped.
I checked the first stall. I will be polite and simply say that it was unflushed.
Gasp.
I checked the last remaining non-handicapped stall. I will simply say that someone missed their aim and felt it necessary to inform everyone else of their bad target practice.
MENTALLY SCREAMING.
So, can't we just all pee along, ladies? Can we not aim and fire in the hole, and if we cannot, can we take care of cleaning up behind ourselves? I mean if you women can clean up behind your babies, you can at least do it for yourself. I'm not asking for much. I don't need to see your leftover pee on the toilet. I don't. Nobody else does. (And if you do, you need to stop reading my blog, you sick freak!) (Okay, not you, Dutch Bitch. And not you, either, Renee.)
I'm a woman. A woman that happens to use public restrooms when necessary. Like tonight. I was at a popular restaurant for several hours. I have this thing where I will go to a place to study because I tend to not do it in my room. I was going to a Japanese place, but it was closed, so I went to the Waffle House. I hate going to this particular Waffle House during the time of day I was going because the people there have no sense of cleanliness. I had a feeling that I was going to actually want something to eat, and I did not want that heffa fixing my food, so I drove around and ended up at this kind of restaurant that serves good versions of basic American food--burgers, steaks, catfish ... stuff like that.
I felt like I could get some coffee in a coffee cup since they have busboys that clean the dishes (as opposed to the servers having to serve and wash dishes like at the Waffle House). After several cups of coffee (and yes, I'm finally getting to the point, but come on ... you know me, I wander sometimes) I needed to go pee. I found the ladies' room which had four stalls. I went into one and, heavens to mergatroid and thank the bathroom gods (because I really had to pee), the toilet seat was not peed on and there was an ample amount of toilet tissue for my back forty and other place (no need for too many details--it is [supposedly] a family blog). I did my business (okay, you don't really want to know how I pee, and if you do, then you need to stop reading my blog, you big freak! Okay, not you Dutch Bitch, but anyone else that is entertaining the thought [okay, Renee, not you either] and I mean stop now ... eewww!) flushed, checked that everything went down the hole, washed my hands, took the paper towel that I dried my hands with, opened the door, and returned to my life at the table.
A few hours--and a few more cups of coffee--later, I returned to the ladies' room. The stall with which I became familiar was available. I opened and the bathroom gods switched off their "on duty" sign, because, though the toilet was flushed and ready for seating, there was no more toilet tissue!
Needless to say, I gasped.
I checked the first stall. I will be polite and simply say that it was unflushed.
Gasp.
I checked the last remaining non-handicapped stall. I will simply say that someone missed their aim and felt it necessary to inform everyone else of their bad target practice.
MENTALLY SCREAMING.
So, can't we just all pee along, ladies? Can we not aim and fire in the hole, and if we cannot, can we take care of cleaning up behind ourselves? I mean if you women can clean up behind your babies, you can at least do it for yourself. I'm not asking for much. I don't need to see your leftover pee on the toilet. I don't. Nobody else does. (And if you do, you need to stop reading my blog, you sick freak!) (Okay, not you, Dutch Bitch. And not you, either, Renee.)
Labels: Calls for Response, Humor, It Really Happened, My Opinion, Screaming, Thoughts
Pointless Pic Post
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
"The happiest moments my heart knows are those in which it is pouring forth its affections to a few esteemed characters."- Thomas Jefferson
Labels: Pics
Ten Things This Tuesday
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
"Above all be true to yourself, and if you can not put your heart in it, take yourself out of it." - Hardy D. Jackson
I've been thinking and no, there is no smoke!
Ten more thoughts that have gone through my head recently:
1. I am worth the hard work it will take to accomplish my goals.
2. No matter how hard you try, you will still have some corn kernels in your--uhmm--output.
3. A person has to have a certain talent for learning a new language.
4. Yup, Spanish is kicking my--uhmmm--output seat.
5. Ick.
6. I called my father on Father's Day. He loves me.
7. His utensil drawer is short a couple of spoons, but he loves me.
8. Money, and the lack thereof, is not the root of all evil.
9. Just most of them.
10. I did some exercising today. Twice. I'm going to try again tomorrow.
I've been thinking and no, there is no smoke!
Ten more thoughts that have gone through my head recently:
1. I am worth the hard work it will take to accomplish my goals.
2. No matter how hard you try, you will still have some corn kernels in your--uhmm--output.
3. A person has to have a certain talent for learning a new language.
4. Yup, Spanish is kicking my--uhmmm--output seat.
5. Ick.
6. I called my father on Father's Day. He loves me.
7. His utensil drawer is short a couple of spoons, but he loves me.
8. Money, and the lack thereof, is not the root of all evil.
9. Just most of them.
10. I did some exercising today. Twice. I'm going to try again tomorrow.
Well... You Know
Sunday, June 10, 2007
"Age is not important unless you're a cheese." - Helen Hayes
I've been in the room since last night. I am going to take a shower and force myself to leave the room. I don't want to go, because I don't want to see what watching five hours of "Top Chef" cost me. I have a test tomorrow and I am so pissed off at myself. That's another story.
Friday, I had an interview, but since I now realize that I am procrastinating, I am going to cut this short an tell you about it another time.
I've been in the room since last night. I am going to take a shower and force myself to leave the room. I don't want to go, because I don't want to see what watching five hours of "Top Chef" cost me. I have a test tomorrow and I am so pissed off at myself. That's another story.
Friday, I had an interview, but since I now realize that I am procrastinating, I am going to cut this short an tell you about it another time.
Labels: The Negatives, Thoughts
Here's Your Sign
Thursday, June 07, 2007
"The reason why so few good books are written is that so few people who can write know anything."- Walter Bagehot
So this morning was a comedy of errors. I woke up this morning at 4:19 after going to sleep at around 1:45. Because of the amount of cereal (and milk, might I add) I had a few hours previous to my eyes opening, I felt an urge to get some stuff out of my system. I did, returned to my bed, and considered staying awake. I didn't. I got out of bed rather late for the things I had to accomplish--work out and be at class by 8 am. My game plan was to pop out of bed (yes, pop.), put my books in my bag, grab the clothes that I intended to wear today, go to the workout place, work out, shower, dress, and smile with glee as my head bleeds internally from trying to understand what my Spanish teacher is trying to get into my thick skull.
I'm giving myself a sign for just waking up. I knew better than to wait so long.
My plan slowly seeps into impossibility when I realized I had to do 45 minutes of working out and it was 7:05. I had a second realization: I left the room without getting a tshirt.
And here's another sign just for you, Gina.
I go to the place where I was supposed to check out, walk by as I get a card scanned that is on my keychain, and work out. I monitor my time from how much time I have to be on the bike to real time. There is a fifteen-minute window where I am supposed to take a shower, dress, and drive to my class. Not going to happen. I decide I will just take an afternoon shower when I get to my room later today. I reach for my keys. They are not in my purse. They are not in the bag that I had my clothes in. They are not in my pockets. I call the person that is still downstairs where my keys may be: "I'll check.... Nope. I don't see any spare keys." I peer into my purse and rustle the items back and forth to find my keys. I check one pocket. I check the other pocket. I check my clothes bag. Not. There. I pat down my pockets. Not. There. I go outside to the security guard to see if he can get my car unlocked. "I can find someone who can unlock it for you."
Here's your sign, Mr. Security Man. It's because you look like you are related to Dopey. In fact, take mine.
I go inside to ask a customer assistance person about my keys. "Did anyone bring any keys up here?"
"Nope. Did you lose yours?"
No, sir. I didn't lose my keys. I donated them to the scavenger hunt the workout club was having and wanted to know if the winner has found them yet.
Here's your sign. I'm going to relieve you with my other sign. I am "Warning: I'm Stupid." sign-free!
I emptied out the main section of my purse. I emptied out the clothes bag. I walked to and fro at every place I could have dropped them including my car (even though I had them with me when I walked in--remember that I checked in with them.) more than a couple of times. I dig into the internal pockets of my purse. Not. There. That's when I glanced down and saw a black cord peeking out like a stupid baby kangaroo's head.
Yup. I am no longer signless.
The outside security guard comes inside and we get each other's eye contact. He motions me to come outside. I motioned to him that I was okay (I gave a huge thumbs up), and he curls his finger to himself to get me outside. I thumbs up him again to no avail. I finally recall that I do have my keyes and that perhaps I should shake them as a hint that I have found my keys.
"Oh, so you found your keys?"
Nope, Mr. Security Man, I didn't find my keys. I'm shaking my shakra at you. Dad gum it, I statrted to give him another sign. Oh well, here you go.
I got to Spanish class around 8:30. Dad gum it.
So this morning was a comedy of errors. I woke up this morning at 4:19 after going to sleep at around 1:45. Because of the amount of cereal (and milk, might I add) I had a few hours previous to my eyes opening, I felt an urge to get some stuff out of my system. I did, returned to my bed, and considered staying awake. I didn't. I got out of bed rather late for the things I had to accomplish--work out and be at class by 8 am. My game plan was to pop out of bed (yes, pop.), put my books in my bag, grab the clothes that I intended to wear today, go to the workout place, work out, shower, dress, and smile with glee as my head bleeds internally from trying to understand what my Spanish teacher is trying to get into my thick skull.
I'm giving myself a sign for just waking up. I knew better than to wait so long.
My plan slowly seeps into impossibility when I realized I had to do 45 minutes of working out and it was 7:05. I had a second realization: I left the room without getting a tshirt.
And here's another sign just for you, Gina.
I go to the place where I was supposed to check out, walk by as I get a card scanned that is on my keychain, and work out. I monitor my time from how much time I have to be on the bike to real time. There is a fifteen-minute window where I am supposed to take a shower, dress, and drive to my class. Not going to happen. I decide I will just take an afternoon shower when I get to my room later today. I reach for my keys. They are not in my purse. They are not in the bag that I had my clothes in. They are not in my pockets. I call the person that is still downstairs where my keys may be: "I'll check.... Nope. I don't see any spare keys." I peer into my purse and rustle the items back and forth to find my keys. I check one pocket. I check the other pocket. I check my clothes bag. Not. There. I pat down my pockets. Not. There. I go outside to the security guard to see if he can get my car unlocked. "I can find someone who can unlock it for you."
Here's your sign, Mr. Security Man. It's because you look like you are related to Dopey. In fact, take mine.
I go inside to ask a customer assistance person about my keys. "Did anyone bring any keys up here?"
"Nope. Did you lose yours?"
No, sir. I didn't lose my keys. I donated them to the scavenger hunt the workout club was having and wanted to know if the winner has found them yet.
Here's your sign. I'm going to relieve you with my other sign. I am "Warning: I'm Stupid." sign-free!
I emptied out the main section of my purse. I emptied out the clothes bag. I walked to and fro at every place I could have dropped them including my car (even though I had them with me when I walked in--remember that I checked in with them.) more than a couple of times. I dig into the internal pockets of my purse. Not. There. That's when I glanced down and saw a black cord peeking out like a stupid baby kangaroo's head.
Yup. I am no longer signless.
The outside security guard comes inside and we get each other's eye contact. He motions me to come outside. I motioned to him that I was okay (I gave a huge thumbs up), and he curls his finger to himself to get me outside. I thumbs up him again to no avail. I finally recall that I do have my keyes and that perhaps I should shake them as a hint that I have found my keys.
"Oh, so you found your keys?"
Nope, Mr. Security Man, I didn't find my keys. I'm shaking my shakra at you. Dad gum it, I statrted to give him another sign. Oh well, here you go.
I got to Spanish class around 8:30. Dad gum it.
Labels: Humor, It Really Happened
Ten Things This Tuesday
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
"Did you hear about the dyslexic, agnostic insomniac who stays up all night wondering if there really is a Dog?"- Anonymous
Yup. Today's one of those days.
Ten Steven Wright statements:
1. How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
2. Support bacteria - they're the only culture some people have.
3. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
4. Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.
5. Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
6. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?
7. A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.
8. The severity of the itch is proportional to the reach.
9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.
10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
Yup. Today's one of those days.
Ten Steven Wright statements:
1. How do you tell when you're out of invisible ink?
2. Support bacteria - they're the only culture some people have.
3. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
4. Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.
5. Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.
6. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?
7. A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.
8. The severity of the itch is proportional to the reach.
9. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; to steal from many is research.
10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.
Labels: Ten Things This Tuesday
I Just Happened to Have a Few Minutes
Monday, June 04, 2007
"The secret of being miserable is to have leisure to bother about whether you are happy or not. The cure for it is occupation."- George Bernard Shaw
I've been having random thoughts cross my mind ...
The opposite of fear is knowledge.
Almost everything is not as bad as is imagined. This does not convince me that I should taste monkey brains or walk through the south side of Chicago with a diamond-encrusted dress.
At this moment, I cannot think any other garment would feel better than replaced than a bra.
The period of time in which one is eating jello can never be boring.
Does it matter if the voices in my head sound like me?
Chocolate, either.
If I happen to have a "calories burned" counter on while I'm exercising, and the number comes to 240, can I avoid putting back on those calories by not drinking a 20-oz bottle of pop/soda?
Is there anything more adorable than a guy with brown puppy-dog eyes?
My cheeks are so big that when I put my hands on my cheeks, I squish my lower eyelids upward, and I have to open my upper eyelids to look at stuff.
It doesn't happen when I put my hand on my temple. I guess I am too cheeky.
(You gotta promise to not tell anyone around here that I said this. Promise! Okay. Now I can tell you.) I am afraid to read anything by Eudora Welty because I think she is going to either piss me off or make me mad for not enjoying her. (You gotta promise because I'm sitting about five feet from a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge painting of her.)
(She might be looking, too.)
Saying, "I am well," may be grammatically correct, but it sounds bad. Saying, "I am good" seems a little like bragging and is grammatically incorrect. I am going to start answering that question like this: "You don't really want to know the answer to that question. I mean we say that all of the time to people we do know and don't care, and since you barely know me, I am going to refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me or something like that."
(I just caught a chill. I think I feel Eudora scowling.)
I think the theme for my senior comprehensive short list theme will be revenge.
I'm hoping that I will suddenly understand every word my Spanish professor says before the final exam.
Every Spanish word. I understand all of the English words, which is a real credit to him because it is not his first language.
Don't try to take a foreign language class in the summer unless you already know that level of it when you take it. Yeesh.
I've been having random thoughts cross my mind ...
The opposite of fear is knowledge.
Almost everything is not as bad as is imagined. This does not convince me that I should taste monkey brains or walk through the south side of Chicago with a diamond-encrusted dress.
At this moment, I cannot think any other garment would feel better than replaced than a bra.
The period of time in which one is eating jello can never be boring.
Does it matter if the voices in my head sound like me?
Chocolate, either.
If I happen to have a "calories burned" counter on while I'm exercising, and the number comes to 240, can I avoid putting back on those calories by not drinking a 20-oz bottle of pop/soda?
Is there anything more adorable than a guy with brown puppy-dog eyes?
My cheeks are so big that when I put my hands on my cheeks, I squish my lower eyelids upward, and I have to open my upper eyelids to look at stuff.
It doesn't happen when I put my hand on my temple. I guess I am too cheeky.
(You gotta promise to not tell anyone around here that I said this. Promise! Okay. Now I can tell you.) I am afraid to read anything by Eudora Welty because I think she is going to either piss me off or make me mad for not enjoying her. (You gotta promise because I'm sitting about five feet from a huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge painting of her.)
(She might be looking, too.)
Saying, "I am well," may be grammatically correct, but it sounds bad. Saying, "I am good" seems a little like bragging and is grammatically incorrect. I am going to start answering that question like this: "You don't really want to know the answer to that question. I mean we say that all of the time to people we do know and don't care, and since you barely know me, I am going to refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me or something like that."
(I just caught a chill. I think I feel Eudora scowling.)
I think the theme for my senior comprehensive short list theme will be revenge.
I'm hoping that I will suddenly understand every word my Spanish professor says before the final exam.
Every Spanish word. I understand all of the English words, which is a real credit to him because it is not his first language.
Don't try to take a foreign language class in the summer unless you already know that level of it when you take it. Yeesh.