hummingwolf: hummingwolf in front of brick wall with flower drawn on it (Wallflower)
Some wonderful days, the internet gives me an excuse to quote Shakespeare. “Is possible that disdain should die when she hath such meet food to feed it as lists of women Christian men shouldn’t marry?”


10 More Women Christian Men Definitely Should Not Marry
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Exclamation Bunny!!)
... so all the money I save on bus fare can be spent at local farmers markets, apparently.

Note: Never listen to a spiel about hand-rolled fresh mozzarella if you are not prepared to pay for it. When a vendor chirps, "If you have questions about anything we have on the table, just ask," and your response is "Why don't you tell me about everything?"--you are probably already in deep trouble. On the plus side, deep trouble can be tasty.
hummingwolf: Drawing of a creature that is part-wolf, part-hummingbird. (Hummingwolf by Dandelion)
A four-year-old article from Slate magazine which remains as relevant as ever: Anti-Terrorism Valentine's Day Tips.

This link remains my favorite Valentine-related link ever: Unfortunate Valentine's Cards. If you're one of the ones feeling lonely today, look through these cards and be grateful that nobody sent you one of those this year.
hummingwolf: Drawing of a creature that is part-wolf, part-hummingbird. (Hummingwolf by Dandelion)
Today on the Christian Conservative World Magazine Blog, someone asked:
Alzheimer's drugs could be used to heighten the attention and concentration of airline pilots or similar jobs, or to improve the memory of students studying for tests. Amphetamines in small doses have been shown to improve motor learning in stroke victims--why not use them to help people learn how to swim or play the piano? Treatments for depression could be adapted to help put people in a good mood. Drugs to combat attention-deficit disorder could be adapted to help students study more effectively. Beta-blocking drugs that blunt the emotional effects of traumatic events could be used to reduce the negative memories that can cause stress at a family reunion. Already actors and other performers are reportedly using medication to keep them from being nervous. Do you see anything wrong with such "quality of life" medication?

The blogger included a link to Beauty and the brain, which includes the statement "Chatterjee said in the future it's plausible that neurologists will become 'quality of life consultants.'" (It also includes the horrific phrase "large gray area between normalcy and abnormalcy," but let's ignore that abomination for now.) The abstract for the Neurology article ends with the sentence "Neurologists and other clinicians are likely to encounter patient-consumers who view physicians as gatekeepers in their own pursuit of happiness."

Really, I just have to ask: How many of the people going on about the quality-of-life enhancing possibilities of these medications have ever taken the medications? Even patients who acknowledge a need for some kind of change in their brain chemistry complain about nasty side effects; what kind of effects will people suffer if they muck about with the chemistry of a so-called normal brain?

Also: Those of you who have ever had to deal with a doctor for any kind of chronic or long-term illness: Do you believe it's an even remotely good idea to view physicians as gatekeepers in your own pursuit of happiness? For that matter, as an adult, do you want anyone else to be a gatekeeper in your own pursuit of happiness?

(no subject)

Sunday, June 1st, 2003 12:50 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Darkness darkness hide the yearning
for the things that can not be
keep my mind from constant turning
towards the things I can not see


Yes, songs are dangerous.

(no subject)

Sunday, June 1st, 2003 12:35 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (three)
I have the feeling I'm not supposed to be comfortable right now. This annoys me. Isn't it time for me to be able to relax, to rest for a while? How much endurance do I have to have? How much patience do I have to use up? But no, it's not even an external pressure: inside, as much as I want to relax, to cocoon, to curl up and ignore the world, I also feel the need to stir things up, to change, to whirl around in some new motion I swear to you I don't have the energy for.

Cocooning, making a place for myself away from the world, is often a necessity or at least a very good idea. But not today. Why not today? I don't know, but not today.

I want to not think any new thoughts. I want to not experience any new experiences. I want to curl up with a book I've read before and see nothing new in it. I want to listen to old favorite songs and pay no attention to the lyrics, ignore the music trying to pull me into a different world. Books are dangerous. Music is dangerous. People are dangerous. Listening to soccer players in the field nearby might make me feel or think something uncomfortable. Looking at a flower might take me places I don't want to go.

If I were a person who liked to drink beer and watch television, that's what I'd be doing now. "Turn off your mind, relax and float downstream..." but I don't want to go downstream. I don't want to go anywhere. Why can't I stay in place for a little while? Just for today? I know things in my life need to change--I want things to change, desperately--but not now, thank you.

I want to eat lots of chocolate chip cookies and go to sleep and not dream. But that isn't going to happen.

Maybe it's the weather. Windy days always did make me restless.
hummingwolf: Drawing of a creature that is part-wolf, part-hummingbird. (Hummingwolf by Dandelion)
No matter how many people live in a group home, each person will insist that they're constantly cleaning up after everyone else--how come this place is such a disaster area? The more loudly the group as a whole insists that they're neat freaks who can't stand to live in a messy house, the worse the house looks. One can only conclude that the brownies, upset by the quality of the food being left out for them, are coming into the house in the middle of the night and messing up everything as revenge. If only I could convince the housemates that, for example, a can of grease left on the windowsill or a box of cereal with a Sell-By date of July 2002 is not an acceptable offering, perhaps the wee folk would clean everything up again and we could spend all our time doing more interesting things.
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Libraries are dangerous. Even though you have seven books already checked out and no chance of finishing them all by their due dates, more books will call out to you from the shelves, nonfiction tantalizing you with knowledge of all the wonders of the world while fiction piteously cries out to you, "Read me! Read meeeeeeeeeee!" Even books in foreign languages may seduce you, leaving you overcome by desire to learn Serbo-Croatian.

Celestial Seasonings Tuscany Orange Spice tea is dangerous. With 40 milligrams of caffeine (compared to, say, 160 in a double espresso), it gives you a little lift without startling you in any way; so you, beguiled by the delightful taste and seeming harmlessness of the brew, keep drinking and drinking until you are bouncing off the walls and caroming off random pieces of (now-broken) furniture.

Pop music is dangerous. Cute little tunes get stuck in your head and you find yourself singing

Hey
You know you're gonna live
To fight another day
It's just today things ain't so good
Get yourself back again
You've got so much love
That you can't afford to lose

Goodbye heartbreak
Don't look for me 'cos I don't need you now
So long, heartache
Don't look for me 'cos I don't need you now

I don't need you now
I don't need you now
I don't need you now
Hey-heeeey


and getting strange looks from your fellow Safeway shoppers because the Muzak isn't even playing the Lighthouse Family.

With such grave dangers in this world, it truly is a miracle the species survives at all.

For a friend

Saturday, November 2nd, 2002 08:28 am
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (three)
There is no virtue in settling for mud pies when life invites you to a banquet. Your humility is demonstrably false if it keeps you from true joy.

(Oh, c'mon. Can you believe it's really humble to say "I don't need that gift, I can make it on my own"? So you think you don't deserve it--fine, maybe you don't--maybe nobody does. Humility accepts that the gift is needed, whether deserved or not.)

(no subject)

Monday, October 28th, 2002 05:25 am
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Woke up this morning sometime around 4 or a bit later and began to panic (not for the first, or, I'm sure, the last time) about my financial situation. If I don't get some money in the next 3 days, I'll reach the third month straight of not paying my rent. Landlord's understanding, but even the most understanding person would be thinking of ways to get rid of me by now.

Oh joy, isn't it fun to be jobless and poor?

Anyway, I never like panicking for long, so I distracted myself by reading a bit of Tom Lutz's book Crying: The Natural & Cultural History of Tears. Haven't gotten very far, but have so far read a little about the physical pleasures of tears, the relief, the satiety of a good cry.

Hmph. All my life I've been a crier, and all my life I've never been allowed that kind of pleasure being spoken of. Like most folks who can't keep their faces dry on demand, I've been accused of being manipulative or told that big girls don't cry. (The obvious exception here being when my mother died and a friend of hers told a friend of mine that I wasn't crying enough at the funeral--"People will think she didn't love her mother." Yeah, the fact that I was half disbelieving that Mom was dead and half relieved that she was out of her pain didn't matter, I was still supposed to be able to control my tears on demand for the public's sake.) So I'm only allowed to feel guilty for my tears, or at the very best feel like a pathetic useless slob for not being able to stop them.

Y'know, I feel terribly cheated.

No excuse.

Tuesday, September 24th, 2002 04:12 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
I understand that there are a great many unfortunate people in the world. Having lived through my own health problems, financial problems, family problems, and suchlike, I deeply sympathize with those who suffer through situations which most in our society would prefer to believe could never happen to them. And it is undeniably true that the horrific things which happen to people can make them commit acts which they would heretofore never have even considered, much less performed.

Even so, it doesn't matter if you have some variant of arthritis which makes it impossible for you to hold a pen or type while leaving you able to wield a pair of scissors--or that you have some learning disability leaving you able to read yet unable to write--or that you are too poor to pay the fifteen cents per page that the library charges for copies--or even that you are so friendless and bereft of all social graces that you cannot find someone willing to help you out with simple tasks. Even for you, this is an absolute commandment: Do not EVER cut out the last paragraph of a book you've borrowed from the public library.

Sometimes I wish they'd bring back public floggings.

(no subject)

Thursday, August 1st, 2002 01:11 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (three)
Anger is terribly seductive, particularly the varieties of righteous indignation. Some people react to anger the way they do to falling in love. They think of nothing but the object of their affect. They savor every nuance of their emotion like a grand feast of delectable morsels. They nurture their feelings like a spring garden, sparing no effort and little expense in making it grow lushly, luxuriantly.

Other people are afraid of their anger. They repress it, deny that they ever felt it, pretend to have nothing but happy fluffy bunny feelings for the whole world around them. Sometimes they admit to sadness over the misery in the world, but never anger.

I am not afraid to admit my anger. At the moment, I'm afraid of how unafraid I am of my anger. I have been seething with rage at any number of things. Some of the anger is perfectly justified, of course; perhaps most of it is. But I have never wanted to be one of those people who nurture their anger 'til it grows into hatred, and I have been in danger of becoming one this week. This descent into mad fury must stop. I have far better things to do with this energy.

God help me, I don't think I can last another night without sleep. I pray that I can do something productive tomorrow.

Bits & Pieces

Monday, July 29th, 2002 09:45 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Nik Kershaw sang back in the '80s,
The heat is stifling, burning me up from the inside
The sweat is coming through each and every pore
Don't wanna be here no more...


That pretty much sums up the way I'm feeling in a room with no air-conditioning.

On to better thoughts: Spent most of the day in an air-conditioned shopping mall with an old friend, looking at many wonderful items neither one of us can afford. Quite a lot of fun, and best of all, it was cool. Among other things, we tried on some mood rings and were interested to learn that there is no detectable difference between Romance and Despair.

Later in the day, my friend took me grocery shopping--her treat. (Gotta love a woman who says, when she looks at a cart full of groceries she's paying for that I'm going to eat, that I'm not taking enough advantage of her. How did I get such great friends?) We'd been talking earlier about this article and wondering if I might be thought a potential terrorist, given that I have never used my Safeway savings card to buy pork but have used it to buy hummus. I suppose my choices today of hummus and couscous must have unnerved her a bit--she made a point of buying a big package of pork spareribs for herself.

No news on the job front, unfortunately. Still wondering if I will ever get a paycheck before the end of this lifetime. Anyone want to place any bets? Not sure what the stakes could be, given that I don't have any income, but I'm sure we can come to some agreement.

(no subject)

Tuesday, May 21st, 2002 04:26 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Many of you have been writing wonderful, thought-provoking posts which I would love to respond to in detail. Unfortunately, aliens have abducted the vast majority of my brain cells and they (the aliens) refuse to return them (the brain cells) until I--

Sorry, I have been informed that I may not reveal what it is the aliens would have me do if I ever want to see my brain cells alive again. However, since I like you people, I will warn you that you must not snort garlic salt up your nose while humming the theme tune to Bonanza until after June 4, 2002 or you will regret it.

(no subject)

Sunday, May 12th, 2002 08:34 pm
hummingwolf: squiggly symbol floating over rippling water (Default)
Upon re-reading some examples of my recent prose, both here and in other fora, I have noticed somewhat to my chagrin that when I am suffering from a lack of opportunities to enjoy a quantity of sleep sufficient to restore me to my preferred state of alertness and vivacity, my writing often becomes overburdened with verbosity, with circumlocutions, with unneeded phrases and clauses which, while perhaps not always adhering to the accepted rules of standard English grammar, do tend to generate a sort of ponderous impressiveness which is reminiscent of the effect produced by an inordinate number of the reports, essays, and critiques that I was expected to indite at university (as well as in my earlier years in the system of public education) and which, as with the dubious impressiveness achieved in those earlier writings, tends to dissipate upon the instant one realizes that I have, in fact, said very little which could reasonably be claimed to have any significance at all.

Put another way: I get wordy when I'm tired.

How many articles in academic journals can be explained by sleep-deprivation, I wonder?

The first sentence of this post was much too easy for me to write. Somebody please help me.

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