An Addendum to the Snot Post

Skye mentioned that my snot theory really did explain a lot. She considered the loss of snot/ brain matter to be a cause of senility. I agree, it’s another element to the whole snot thing which I hadn’t even thought of.

But, one thing I did think of is nose picking. If you tell your children they aren’t merely picking snot out of their nose but in fact, are removing brain cells, I bet you could really make progress in training children not to pick. Or at least, not to dig too deeply.

In the end we could have a whole generation of non-pickers.

Would that be a good thing? After all, what does it really matter if you remove snot once it’s already dripped down that far. It’s not like you’re going to try putting it back. I have never seen someone putting snot back up their nose. Well, I have seen people who would rather snort it back up than blow it out into a tissue. So, maybe they are the real geniuses among us. Those snot snorters have known all along, don’t blow your snot away.

Well, has that blown your mind? Get a few tissues, preserve it. Maybe you can snort it back up later. I’d hate to think I could be the cause of early senility. After all, I don’t have many readers and you all need to keep at least enough snot in your head to keep coming back here. You don’t actually need to read once you’re here. Though that would be nice. If you can suck up enough snot to comment that would be great. That’s how I know I’m not just talking to myself.

Good night. Remember, keep your snot!


Do you ever wonder where all that snot comes from? I mean, the human head isn’t big enough to hold that much snot I’m sure of it. Maybe we’ve been wrong all these years and the human brain isn’t grey matter at all, it’s all yellow and slimy stuff that occasionally drips and flows out of our nose when we’ve been thinking too much. Or maybe I’ve just gotten too darn clever and all of this leakage is just overflow. Sparing my brain from knowing too much and getting shot in some brain gangster movie.

Anyway, today I have allergies. How much brain matter can I lose before I forget how to type?


Still not moved. Just keeping track, score, or other.

Why did I stay up all night tonight? To make sure I put out the garbage early enough this morning. I waited till it was light enough so I could see skunks and other creatures who co-habitate in the area. Skunks, raccoons and possums aren’t just in the city.

Now, it’s nearly 8:30 and my brain is shutting down and though the garbage is out there on time (an hour early even) the garbage people have not come to pick it up.

Why are they on time on the days I don’t get it out there by 7:00am. How do they know which days I’m late and which days I’m early. It’s really not polite of them, at all.

Good Morning. I’m going to nap. Some days it’s good to be unemployed (I mean freelancing).

There are Few Words That Rhyme with John

Think about it. I came up with gone and it’s relatives – begone. Nothing else I came up with made it past four letters.

Here is my list of rhymers:

con, fawn, dawn, don, gone, lawn, pawn, sawn, yawn.

You could stretch and try one, the word. But it doesn’t have quite the right sound.

What was the point to this post? Why do you assume I had a point? Do you think I need an actual reason to post? No, just the energy to touch type and something randomly firing up the synapses of my brain.

Why do you get up in the morning? Because it’s light enough to see where you’re going, right? Admit it’s not cause you just love going to work every day. Or cause you are up for Mother of the Year and must hustle to feed your kids before they recind all their votes.

I have not heard from John in about a month now. It’s not a good thing.

I’m burned out on the whole dating thing, I think. Men just don’t seem to grow on trees after all. Don’t listen to your brother. Dating is not easy just cause you come equipped with natural DD boobs.

It’s 4:00 AM Do You Know Where Your Brain Cells Are?

I don’t know why I woke up so early this morning. Too early. I was feeling perky enough for the first hour but my brain is definitely slacking off now. If I hadn’t opened a nice cold diet Coke I would already be back in bed all snuggled up with the red cotton sheets. (Don’t you love jersey sheets?)

But, here I am, the ultimate morning person. Someone just needs to plug me in.

It’s a bit chilly this morning. I have the heat turned off. The days have been so mild it seemed silly to be heating the house. Not quite ready to leave the windows open for long, yet. It is nice to get rid of the stale air from all winter long. The house (and myself) can breathe again.

Enjoy the last of the long weekend, if you have it. I am going back to bed. 🙂

Blood Cooties (Warning, Not for Men)

Posting something for the sake of posting something may not be a good plan today. I’m on Midol and I have blood cooties. I am not comfortable in my own skin today. At least the Midol (sometimes Pamprin, sometimes Tylenol’s grrlie byproduct, to be fair in an ecommerce way) gets rid of the massive crampage. When I was younger I would just lift something heavy and that would get rid of the cramps. That doesn’t work so well any more. No wonder women get menopause around their 40’s or 50’s. I can’t imagine what I would have to do for cramps into another ten years.

I first began taking the Midol and friends when I was on cash, standing for a six hour shift. That was death. I could feel the blood pouring out of me, I really thought I was going to pass out or just puke right there all over the counter. I left and went home a couple of times before I discovered the Midol wonder cure. I didn’t mind being slightly spaced out. Heck, on cash it was a treat to not entirely be there. Just let the body do the work, it knows how. The brain can wander off and think about how nice it feels not to be doubled over in pain, trying to squish the blood cooties out of me.

I was really peeved that the whole thing started a week early this time. I’ve never been regular but really, it’s nice to have some kind of timeline on the whole thing.

Anyway, I updated the blog. Not quite sunshine and light. But… it’s here.

One Hand Clapping

Is the sound of your own voice like one hand clapping?

I am still trying to figure out this business thing. Ideally I would be running my own publication, on the web. With perhaps another writer or someone to get advertisting would be even better. I like to do promotions, not so much going out there and grabbing clients. Promotions can be a more distant thing. Putting up ads, writing emails and so on. But, anything like cold calls leaves me cold. I can make myself do it.

Anyway, I think everything I do is like talking to myself, just listening to the sound of my own voice, one hand clapping. I feel I am missing the big picture, the boat, somewhere. Maybe it’s just that I am pushing myself to find the answer instead of just having it surprise me when I least suspect it. So often when we push ourselves our brain rebels and we get nowhere.

Maybe the best answer is to take the option of going back to school. But, it may not work out for practical reasons like money (not paying for the courses but for every day expenses) and the fact that really… how long can you count on a 13 year old car to make a half hour drive there and back each weekday?

Scary… scary… scary…. but thus is life.

I’m… Up to No Good

I like this one but I think the pointy bits would catch on my sweaters. I am the ultimate sweater grrl. It really bugs me when my sweaters get a pull in them from something. I’m not the ultimate knitter grrl that I can just fix them.

I have committment on the brain tonight. Would you want a second wedding, the second time around? Or, would you just want to sign it and get it over with so you can skip to the honeymoon?

Choices from one of the Quizes

What trait do you find most attractive in a lover?

* A caring heart
* A devotion to harmony
* A quiet vulnerability
* A fearless heart
* A never ending sense of adventure
* A poetic soul
* A calculating seduction style
* A radical sense of life
* A dramatic sense of superiority
* A superb ability to be flexible
* A fiery passion
* A spirit of compassion

Which would you pick? I chose ‘A never ending sense of adventure’. But ‘A superb ability to be flexible’ would be on the same level. You can have too much adventure eventally and just want someone you can bend to your will… ummm I mean, someone who will adapt to what your needs are at the moment.

Also, ‘A calculating seduction style’ has now taken over part of my brain. Likely I will be stuck with that phrase awhile. Just thinking of all the possible calculated seductions.

Trickery: Another Oldie Post

The Trickery that is Me
Sunday January 06, 2002

I’d like to virtually dissect my brain and find out what’s in there. I’d sort it all out into neat compartments and then carefully put it all back together without juggling it all up again.

I want to write about being a publisher online but I can’t find a beginning or an ending. Its such a long winding path to where I am and its hardly over yet. When I just wanted to be a writer and wasn’t doing much about it I always had that problem. The writing I most want to do is a personal column about life and people, the sort of stuff you would find in Family Circle, Victoria Magazine, or Canadian Living. The problem is that my story is never finished. They kind of expect you to have a happy ending tacked on at the end. at the very least some kind of good conclusion and a resolution to the conflict. Well, I’ve never gotten to that part yet. So how do you write a story about something when it has no ending?

So I’m not writing. Can’t you tell how I’m not writing? Look, its right here in front of you. Plain as black and white and red all over I’m not writing.

Its all a trick you see. The best trick I’ve ever pulled on myself. I’m not writing and yet the words are appearing mystically on the screen and my fingers are tapping away at the keyboard. The thoughts are circling like baby vultures in my mind.

The other great trick I pull on myself is self confidence. I have none you see. But I pretend I do and oddly enough it works. People I knew in high school wonder how I changed so much when I barely dared to breathe in high school. They think I’ve changed but I haven’t changed at all, its all an act, the best trick in my bag of tricks.

This whole not writing thing is just a new trick. I’m not good at it yet that’s why you’re stuck reading all this dribble out of the corner of my brain.

You know, we were driving along on Saturday, my husband and his Mother chatting away, they didn’t need me. I was thinking about that woman I always want to be but can’t quite catch. I’m sure she is there, in my brain somewhere. I was thinking that its time I stopped trying to catch up with her and just met her half way. Surprised me a little when she agreed. So, if I have any highly breakable New Years resolution that’s it. I’m going to meet her half way and finally give her a chance to pull us both out of the quagmire and get on with all the things we know she can do.

Did you know she opened HerCorner finally? Yes, I know it was me, I’m not developing a split personality. Though I have thought about how much simpler it would make things. I’ve also considered a lobotomy. But, I seem to conclude that you just have to learn to live with yourself. Trickery works much better, its all a matter of learning the tricks.

I can write a sensible article about HerCorner and publishing later. I’ve really given you the nitty gritty already. Its all here amid the trickery that is me.