Flummoxed

I am not particularly flummoxed per-se, but I have a few "huh.  that's interesting" moments today and really, I just don't get enough opportunities to use flummoxed in daily exchanges.  

1) I witnessed while in my car driving (which I do a lot of.  Like up to two hours a day sometimes) no less than 5 near accidents with risk-taking cyclists.  Equally guilty were the drivers of big SUV with way too many blind-spots and undeserved narcissistic road-ownership issues.  By the time I got home this evening I was sort of freaked out and looking in my mirrors even more than I normally do.  Which is a lot as I am a very conscientious defensive driver and remember from Driver's Ed that you should check your mirrors every 30 to 60 seconds to reappraise road conditions.  

2) My local NPR station is doing its fund-drive and I got so emotional about my desire to give contrasted against my iffy financial sense of security (we are on our way, but after a whole year of employment shakiness I kind of want to do some personal savings/debt clearing-up-ness) that I had to change the station.  Wow, the guilt was palpable

which brings us to 3) When I changed the radio station I opted for the UC Davis frequency and they were playing obscure B 52's songs.  Mood stabilizer!  Whew, that was close.  

And now this for no reason:  

Yarg!  I am the dancing, sword wielding dragon man!!!  FEAR MEEE!!!!  Or just dance the rumba with me.  Either is acceptable.  

Back on the Horse (with prompting)

I got tagged:

The rules:

1. Respond and rework. Answer the questions on your blog, replace one question you dislike with a question of your own invention; add a question of your own.

2. Tag eight other un-tagged people.

Why do you blog?

For plenty of reasons, I suppose.  Mainly to give some of my more random thoughts and ideas an outlet.  I think that fact that other people may in fact read these words encourages me to write a titch better than I would if it were just me spilling to my diary.  Also when writing in a journal all the stupid word jokes, puns, etc go unheard and I really just can't abide by that.  

Oh and community with others.  

Good fika place?

Fika?  Like the tree?  Similar to Gin is Juiced I was unfamiliar with this term.  And I am not gonna lie, I sort of find it pretentious/yuppie way to describe a coffee place I like to go to and dish with friends.  That is, of course, what I label all things I don't know about though, so really I am simply defending my sensitive ego by insulting that which I don't understand.  Not so hot on my part.  I can honestly say I do not remember the last time I went with friends to grab tea or coffee and gab.  But if I did, I would go with the Naked Lounge in Sacramento.  Best coffee in town and comfy couches abound.  

Do you nap a lot?

On weekends and vacations I have been known to do some serious napping.  Otherwise I try to avoid it so as not to mess up my night time sleep schedule.  I also love a good power nap.  20-30 minutes and I am back on top.

Who was the last person you hugged?
AM.  I think he copped a feel too.  

If you were a tree, what tree would you be?

The tree of knowledge.  I AM KIDDING.  I hate questions like this.   

Have you ever had an altercation with the police?

I believe I have heatedly discussed a "situation" with a police lady in college during a spring all day campus party, but otherwise, no.

What was the last thing you bought?

A large Thai iced coffee. 

What are you listening to right now?

AM is watching an SNL clip on his computer.  Weekend Update.  Also, the dryer is on.  My answers to these questions are incredibly dull.  WOW.  

What is your favorite weather?

Spring certainly picks my mood up after the low light of winter months, but hardly anything beats the heavenly smell of crisp fall evenings.  In other words, I am completely wishy-washy on this issue.

What’s on your bedside table?

Top shelf: Family pictures, candles, some unused meds from before, and a water glass.

Middle shelf: Books, journals, books.

Bottom shelf: Books, basket of nail polishes, books.

I am sensing a theme.

Say something to the person/s who tagged you.

Gin, I would totally fika with you if we lived near one another.  

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be?
Somewhere in the bay area sounds fantastic.  Hell, I'd be happy with something in Sacto for that matter.    

Favorite vacation spot?
Cannon Beach, Seattle, and Paris.

Name the things you can’t live without: 

For some reason I am finding this particularly hard to answer.  I choose to replace this question with the following:

Why is your nose and head experiencing a dull, throbbing pain?

Because a kid head-butted me in the face today, making direct forehead to nose contact.  On accident I believe, but the crunching cartilage noise is still echoing in my brain.  I have been delicately touching my face in a bizarre "what good can touching it possibly do, but I can't stop" way ever since.  

What would you like to have in your hands right now?
A temperature remote FOR THE WORLD!!  (it is seriously hot right now)  That or a check for a large sum of money with my name printed clearly and legibly on the Pay-to-the-order-of line.  

What is your favorite tea flavor?

Jasmine green tea.

What would you like to get rid of? 

My headache and the pile of old clothes that I have been meaning to donate for months that is sitting at the top of the stairs. 

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go? 
Somewhere with a view of the ocean and the company of a good friend or a good book sounds mighty tasty right now.

What did you want to become as a child?

A detective.  I even had a pretend agency and a briefcase with my "detecting accouterments."  Perhaps I did not refer to my notebook, pen and magnifying glass that I carried around in a plastic doctor's visiting bag as accouterments at the time, but you never know.

What do you like better, e-mail or telephone calls?
Emails I think.  There are certain special people that I know so well I can hear their voice in each word as I read it and people are often more heartfelt when they write.  Perhaps more trusting that they can say things and mean them and be heard.  It is awfully hard to interrupt an email from finishing it's thought or to dominate a conversation.  These are two things I can be guilty of when talking on the phone.

What do you do when you get time alone?
I take baths, read and do my nails.  Also a lot of singing happens, including harmonies with whatever I am listening to up the wazoo.  Bathroom acoustics just cannot be stopped!

I don't think I have eight people to tag and truthfully the folks I will tag probably won't want to answer this and post it. The only people I can think of that haven't been tagged already are elitists who insist on having tight reigns over blog content.  Which is part of the reason I love them so.  Well, just for shits and giggles I will give it a go.  Here they are:

LJWMerge

An Island Year

Return to Tacoma

Umm, so that is pretty much it.  I would tag Michael Ian Black and Dooce, but I am led to believe they have no idea who I am.  Rats!

Fissure

Applying salve to cracked lips, putty in tack holes and resulting chips, wood glue for the split chair I fell backwards in the other week.  Lots of temporary fixes for what are chronic issues, structural weakness that need to be address more forthrightly.  But it is cheaper to spackle over it for now.  

I look at the various hobbled together things around me and wonder if it might just come crashing down at some point.  The car won't accept anymore mileage, the shelf no more books and junkmail, the favorite shirt has no more washes before the threads loosen at the seams to rags.  

And what of the internal?  This must be just along winded a metaphor right?  I am not sure.  For as much as I feel I am waiting for some important moment, and the waiting feel tedious so the year seems to have zipped along.  Here we are in April.  But I did break a chair and then jimmy-rig it into its current state of functioning with glue and sheer counter-force.  It works just fine and you can barely tell I smashed it in an ill-advised attempt to "lounge" in a cheap Ikea pine straightback chair while calculating numbers for applying for unemployment.  

Now I have a job and a chair that works.  So what's my big problem?  Here we must go back to the larger structural components and themes.  I do something I enjoy and am actually quite good at, but it is not what I dreamed I would be doing at this point.  Just more compromises because I don't have enough leverage to go for what I really want.  I have too much to give, too much to wonder about, too much to learn to keep pushing the putty back and forth.  

Tonight I told AM I am going to start studying for the GRE.  It is time.  I may not apply to schools by the end of this year, but at least I am going to have the GRE done.  I haven't a clue how we will work out me at school, but if I can deal with constantly chapped lips, broken furniture and this intense longing to do what I am meant to than it will work out.  Hand me the duct-tape and spray-paint.   

The further away from art you get, the less definite the lines, light, and brushstrokes are; however, you lose the sense of individual work and person behind each movement.  Which way do we each want to be seen?  I'm ready for my close-up.  Just let me grab my chapstick real quick...