Did He Say Mendelssohn?

No wait. He said meddlesome. Hey!!

Well really. I never! (Actually, I probably have.) I mean, I make the effort to keep my comments anecdotal so they aren’t seen as meddlesome. And I know I can be moody, like those dips into darkness, so I try not to impose those moments on others and just read sometimes. And really, couldn't any response to a published plea for attention be construed as meddlesome? Heh... I think so. But whatever. I dig it. I don’t like meddlesome people either. Like name-callers. So back atcha, fella! Feh.

But hey, I think it's in the nature of humans to meddle. There are meddlers in my life too. Here’s a list of my fave 5:

5) Hubby, who likes to turn on and tune in the TV to a program he likes before leaving the house, and I'm the only one at home. (Hmmmm. I can’t choose myself?)

4) Visitors who feel a need to tell me how to do things. Even really basic things, as if I wasn’t managing at all myself before they stumbled through my door.
(Hmmm... on this note, I wonder if youth really need advice, or just time, and life.)

3) Single, childless veterinarians who tell me I must meal-time my pets. Sheesh, I haven’t even successfully meal-timed my family. (But then, I don’t feel a compelling need to.)

2) Chiropractors who keep whacky hours and TELL me when I must appear for a lecture, wherein he TELLS me how much time I must spend each day doing his whacky exercises. (That’s right, I’m pushin’ 60 and I need some young twerp who calls himself a doctor telling me how I must live my life. Heh.)

1) People. Well.. hehe.. I guess I better qualify that since people are at the root of most annoyance on this planet. Lemme see, how about those who take EVERYTHING, including themselves, so very seriously. Lighten up people! We’re on the ride down. Might as well enjoy the wind in your hair. (With that in mind, most of the posts on this blog are written tongue-in-cheek. That means they should be read with a salt-shaker at hand.) ;o)

~~Thought for the day: If there is anyone on the planet who is perfect, I’ll bet they’re really impossible to live with. We all have flaws. Keep a perspective. ~~

But I digress. I notice when I want someone to meddle and solve some bothersome problem for me, they rarely do. No, I have to struggle with it. Although my daughter came through for me recently when I showed some confusion over terms of sexuality. She filled me in. Lemme see:

Heterosexual ~ people who are attracted to the opposite gender.
Homosexual ~ attracted to same gender.
Bisexual ~ attracted to both genders.
A-sexual ~ likes neither gender. Hmmm.
Trans-sexual ~ wants to be the other gender.
Pan-sexual ~ not really a sexuality, more of a philosophy that
it’s ok to love anyone, regardless of gender, race, cultural heritage and all that. (Now see, I thought a pan-sexual was just
somebody with an unhealthy love of pans.)
All-sexual ~ a bisexual hermaphrodite
(My daughter admits she invented this one.)
Auto-sexual ~ someone in love with their car.
Bi-curious ~ just wondering.

Do I have it straight? Oh... possibly an unfortunate choice of words. Ooops.

But I digress again. Back on the subject of meddling, there’s those people who are johnny-on-the-spot to answer rhetorical questions you only asked to provoke thought. In fact, not only do they answer, they do it right away. Of course. *sigh*

Of course, I don't really need the label. I mean, when you get a compliment, like "you're a beautiful being," it passes by before you can say "aw shucks." But something like "meddler," well, that could stick like the nickname "Stinky" at a junior high school. Oh well, I’m told I spend too much time online, and that’s probably true. Like many people these days, I have a bucket list. I’ve been enjoying crossing things off it and a lot of those things have been online activities. One thing I still haven’t gotten to though is re-acquainting myself with my musical instruments. Not an online activity, except for the guitar tuning site. Mendelssohn? Nope, probably more like the Eagles or John Denver. Sunshine on my shoulders. No kidding. And I'm going to put my hand to more original songs... call the first one, Sweet Release.

Dreams ~ Creative Sparks in the Night?

Do you ever have active or interesting dreams where you wake up suddenly in the middle of the night and remember something about the dream you were just having that seemed somehow inspirational? Of course, you go back to sleep and in the morning you can’t remember what it is you thought might save mankind. So you put a notebook and pencil on your bedside table, to record anything you might come up with in your sleep. I mean, it might be important, right? So naturally you don’t want to forget it next time it happens.

I woke up one night with this great idea for a writing project I was sure would win me some sort of important prize... Pulitzer, here I come. So I carefully wrote down a key word I thought would surely bring the whole wonderful thing back to me when I read it in the morning. Well, I got up and did my bathroom thing. Then I went back to the bedroom to get dressed, saw the notebook and vaguely remembered writing something in it. Eagerly I flipped the pages until I came to the one I’d written this no doubt pithy key word on. “Clouds,” it said. “Clouds?” I repeated out loud, perplexed. Wha...?? Now just what was “clouds” supposed to mean? Not to give up too easily, I went to the door and looked outside. The sky was blue and cloudless. Some help that was. I tried to imagine clouds in the sky, figuring I might somehow conjure the inspiring image that had been given to me in the night. I closed my eyes and really tried to come up with something... um... cloudy? Nope. Only thing that was cloudy was my brain. I made coffee.
Of course, I didn’t give up on the idea of capturing some inspiration right away. I stubbornly kept that notebook and pencil by my bed and I actually wrote things in it a few more times. But the results were pretty much the same, only instead of “clouds” it was something equally enlightening, like “waves” or “bare trees” or “tickertape joking.” (No kidding... apparently I wrote a prize-winning joke on tickertape in my sleep. I woke up actually laughing.) But all I’ve ever managed to come up with in the morning is the possibility that sometimes I have really fascinating dreams. Too bad I so seldom remember them.

Regroup, Review, Refresh, Re-Center

Sometimes I lose focus of the fact that it's ok to do things just for me. I mean, I work hard and take care of my responsibilities, so I should have time for self-amusement, right? I have also spent a lot of my life looking after others, so I don't really owe anyone anything. Heh. And yet I so often feel as if I have to be "helping" somebody. Not enough Karma in the bank?

I have to convince myself that it's ok if I do some stuff just for me. In fact, the world can get along very well without my attention, a fact that is both liberating and a little depressing for someone with the "help" gene. Ah, but balance in all things.

It is at this time of year that I tend to feel as if I'm swimming in oatmeal no matter what I do. I don't know why. The days are growing longer and there is the promise of Spring, if not yet any indication that it's actually out there somewhere. Delayed reaction to not enough light? SAD. I don't know. Could be. Or perhaps just the knowledge that promises can be broken and doodoo happens? Especially in this time of weather anomolies. Is spring something I can really count on? I guess I won't know for sure until the patches of snow are getting hard to find and that unmistakable odour of thawing dog poo assails my nostrils on an otherwise refreshing, warm Spring breeze. Only then will I know that Spring is truly at hand.

In the meantime, I'm a person who makes things and I think I should be doing some of that. I'm supposed to making jam right now. I have the fruit right here. I forgot to buy sugar. Again. *sigh* Can't make jam without sugar... at least, not this kind. This is the second time I've forgotten to buy sugar when I knew I'd be needing to make jam. Brain!! Why do you abandon me??!!

It seems to be preoccupied with pointless ponderings. My brain that is. Doesn't matter what I think anyway. Not really. So why don't I turn off the ponderings and try to remember why I left the house when I go shopping?

"Of what use is a philosopher who doesn't hurt anybody's feelings?" — Diogenes of Sinope

An internet friend put this on his status today. Of what use is a philosopher at all? Nevermind one that wounds. A chronic ponderer fares no better. So hey, time to regroup, review, refresh, re-center, re-everything, I think. May also be time to start a new blog. I mean, let's be realistic: a few thoughtful, depressing poems will take care of these dark feelings, right? And nobody reads poetry anymore either. The poetry book is over on that unused shelf next to the book of philosophy. So it's purely a carthartic exercise. Then I should move on... to SOMETHING I LIKE TO DO. No, I'm not threatening to blog the dark oatmeal pondering poems. Yes. I am thinking of starting a new blog on things I like to do. :) Stay tuned. ;o)

I did it. Yes I did. :) http://quillingartandmore.blogspot.com/