Have Yourself a Minimalist Xmas.

Courtesy

Sometimes the cure for crabbiness and self-pity resides in demonstrating some small courtesy toward another human being.

slow blogging

I was reading in the Times about the slow blogging movement (if you can call it that). I’m a part of it and I didn’t even know it. All it takes is having some blogs that you rarely, if ever, post to, and that other people rarely, if ever, read.

I love being part of a mass movement that has no mass and little movement.

Hmm. Sounds like a good blog posting to me….

Why is it

that menopausal women never go on rampages, killing everyone in sight?

Shadows, Wall, and Mirror

One part of my mind

is always prepared for disaster. J___ just called and said "have you gotten an email from M____?" and her tone of voice was subtly urgent, concerned. I immediately thought the worst, then J____ realized her mistake and assured me nothing was wrong, she was calling about a web page that was presenting a baffling cognitive challenge.

That was about five minutes ago, and I'm still on heightened alert. The only answer is to listen to my own piano music, which I realized I compose for just such occasions. It's the best nerve balm I know for my inner terrors.

The view from the top of the U of M/Fairview Hospital parking lot.

This Fall

It's an unbelievably beautiful fall, made more so I think by the emotional intensity of this election year. I hope it leads into an equally beautiful winter, and not into a prolonged season of bleakness. I don't know what the Farmer's Almanac has predicted for this winter. I hope it's good, or failing that, wrong.

simple rubrics for simpletons.

McCain + Palin = PAIN

Complex times DON'T need simple minds. Vote Obama/Biden.

beautiful fall day.

Noise. I hate noise. What is noise?

I've heard noise described as any unwanted sound. So, one woman's noise is another woman's operetta. I'm sick of airplane noise, that's for sure. I keep one tab of Firefox open to http://www.macnoise.com/complaint and when I'm at the computer, if I hear an airplane above the sound of the fan I keep on as white noise I complain about it. Takes about 3 seconds. Only thing is, they won't let you complain more than once per minute, and sometimes the planes fly over more frequently than that. So I complained about that. Life is kvetching. Here's a taste of what Wikipedia has to say about the health effects of noise, now well-documented:

Noise health effects

Roadway noise is a major source of exposure

Noise health effects are the health consequences of elevated sound levels. Elevated workplace or other noise can cause hearing impairment, hypertension, ischemic heart disease, annoyance, sleep disturbance, and decreased school performance. Changes in the immune system and birth defects have been attributed to noise exposure, but evidence is limited.^[1] Although some presbycusis may occur naturally with age,^[2] in many developed nations the cumulative impact of noise is sufficient to impair the hearing of a large fraction of the population over the course of a lifetime.^[3][4] Noise exposure has also been known to induce tinnitus, hypertension, vasoconstriction and other cardiovascular impacts.^[5]

Beyond these effects, elevated noise levels can create stress, increase workplace accident rates, and stimulate aggression and other anti-social behaviors.^[6] The most significant causes are vehicle and aircraft noise, prolonged exposure to loud music, and industrial noise .

Can't get Rudyard Kipling out of my mind.

If...


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

More chiaroscuro, more, more!

Enough with the Big Wheel, already!

Nice Duck

Cheerful thought

Sometimes when I'm getting particularly irritated with people, I take a mental step back and let my mind imagine what kind of dog they might be, and immediately become more kindly disposed towards them.

Another pic of the trike

check out the Kryptonite lock.

Now I don't remember what the hell I was going to say.

For some reason, this is easier on Facebook. I think because of the built-in audience. I've spent most of my life alternating between fearing and seeking invisibility, which is the flip-side of seeking and avoiding being the cynosure. Great word, huh? Love that word: cynosure. Anyway, Blogger feels lonely to me. Here I am, in my little cage, trying to communicate to ... who, exactly?

Whereas on Facebook, because it is a social networking site first, putting down random thoughts -- edited on the fly and posted hastily without too much craft -- doesn't seem so much an exersize in modern alienation as an amplification of intimacy.

My eye is bruised, my stent is broke, and I got bootmarks on my jacket from yer stompin' over me...

Dammit, I'm sick of being mauled by residents. I want boutique medicine!