So It's Tuesday...

Yes, it is Tuesday.  It's the day to VOTE.  I was able to go and vote last Thursday, which was a huge relief. I prefer not to leave such an important civic duty until the last possible minute.  I would rather not be forced to stand in an impossibly long, long, long line.  Those sorts of lines are only for Peter Jackson films, tickets to a concert, the largest roller coaster in the world, etc.  I hate waiting that much.  My husband was able to vote this time around, without any of the usual grief, thank goodness! 

I was on Facebook yesterday, and happened to look at the ads.  There was a "Lose Your Belly Fat With This One Weird Trick" ad...followed by an ad for Werther's candy.  Do you want me to lose weight, Facebook?  Then stop giving me mixed messages! 

After today, when the polls close, we can kiss all those horrible political ads goodbye. Hooray!  At least, someone can kiss them goodbye.  I'm not kissing any, because I don't know where those ads have been. There's been some pretty scary people buying ad time.  If you told me that the Mafia had a Super-PAC, I wouldn't even blink. I think that we should ban all political ads from the media, and the politicians should do like they used to do, which is get out and actually talk to people.  It worked for Abraham Lincoln, it should work for everyone else.  It's easier to take the measure of a candidate when they are ten feet away as opposed to in a little box in your entertainment center.

My fear of commitment has been on overdrive; as soon as I decided that I would sign up for NaNoWriMo, my brain came up with a kajillion reasons that I should not.  You don't have time, my brain said. You'll never make 50,000 words, it said. You'll put your eye out! it said.  I signed up anyway.  I'm going to at least attempt to do this, give it a good faith effort.  If I succeed, then yay me.  If I don't, then yay me.

Okay, if my church sent out a poster with this guy on it, I don't think I'd be lining up.  He looks rather scary, doesn't he?  I would hold my purse more closely if he showed up, I'm sad to say.  He's probably a very nice man, and he's obviously a church goer.  But his face does not increase my desire to attend this particular church.  I didn't really ever like Korn that much anyway, because my brain kept taking them to task for the glaring spelling error. Now, if Eric Clapton was touring churches, I'd be there, along with half the continent. But,hey, it's Clapton. 

I am visiting Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked today.  I hope that she has recovered sufficiently from the evil Hurricane Sandy.  Check her out!

A Little Help

I was feeling blurry and brainless last night, and the blogging ideas weren't coming along.  My dearest spouse was kind enough to take the boy and head for a Scorpions soccer game, and the house was quiet.  This should have been the perfect time for me to write a blog post.  Nada.  No bright ideas popped into my consciousness.

I read other people's blogs, hoping that that would get the creative juices flowing. 

I turned off the television. 

I went outside. 

I fed Lalo and Smoky Bear, the two feral cats who live in the bushes in the back yard.

I got the coffee ready for tomorrow.

I actually did the dishes, and I hate doing the dishes in an extreme way.  I was that desperate for ideas.

And then, I had an idea.  I would ask my people on Facebook!  Those people are always giving their opinions--why not let them tell me what to write about?  Collectively they are an intelligent bunch.  I typed out my status/request and the responses I got:

What should I blog about for tomorrow? My brain is 'Le Tired', and not forming coherent sentences.

 

A. Just start typing and see what happens.

B. Awesome and disastrous implications of portal guns

C.  And expose on George Clinton called "Those Guys Have All the Funk"

Talk about bringing the challenge!    I can't really write anything about George Clinton.  George Clinton has always had The Funk.  He's always had The Funk.  I've never actually wanted The Funk, anyway.  Where would I put it?  You can't just leave The Funk lying around the house--what if my son gets into The Funk?  The Funk requires the ability to get down...and talk about the roof being on fire.  That's just not responsible parenting in my book.

Portal guns are a little harder, because I don't know much about them.   Of course, I googled and found what I was looking for .   I read all about them...and...yeah.  I have to face the fact that it is possible that my brain was taken by zombies while I was working today. All that physics stuff is going to take a bit to digest.  In other words, I'll have to ask my husband, the gamer, to explain.


But then my wonderful friend, Jillsmo, over at Yeah. Good Times. said to just "start typing and see what happens."  She is brilliant, isn't she?  She is my Zen master, and I heart her.   Any journey always begins with the first step, doesn't it? I do have a tendency to over think things, when I really should just let things flow.  If nothing else, I've at least got my ideas on the paper.  

On another topic, what do you think of my redecoration efforts?  I am not sure of the color--it's a bit darker than I would like.  Is it difficult to read?

   

 

No Politics and/or Religion

I hang out on Facebook.  Mainly I do this because most of my extended family hangs out there, and that's really the only way we keep in touch.  I have a lot of cousins.  Even before I was born, they were working on my second cousins, and now it's as though the entire state of Ohio is related to me. I try to keep up with as many as I can.  It's nice to get to virtually visit without having to remember to send a Christmas card.
 
I read everyone's status and look at everyone's pictures.  What I don't do is post any comment about politics or religion on anyone else's status.  If someone's status is something like "Obama sux!"  I'll ignore it.  Why?  Because that is their opinion.  I may or may not agree with their opinion, and I may find their opinions offensive, but I respect their right to have an opinion.   I don't respond to their comment in a nasty way, because I'm not a troll.   I also know that if someone has an opinion that strong, my making a comment about it isn't going to change a thing.

Not. A. Darn. Thing.

If one of my FB friends is convinced that the government is trying to take away his AK-47 so he can't use it to hunt tiny mammals, nothing I say is going to convince him otherwise, no matter how reasonable my comment might be.  In the past, when I've prefaced my comment with something along the lines of 'maybe you don't have all the facts' or 'maybe there's more to the story',  the conflagration from the flame war is hot enough to roast weinies.  I don't go on Facebook to read negative crap or to argue about negative crap, so I learned to just not even bother.

Not everyone gives me the same consideration, and it annoys the bejeebers out of me.  If I post a funny picture, I don't want a comment about how that picture is offensive to Jesus.  (Have you ever noticed that nobody ever thinks that Jesus ever laughed or told jokes?)  I don't want a comment about how this or that particular internet meme just goes to show that the liberals own the media.  When I read tripe like that, it makes me want to scream loudly while I hit the delete button.

But I don't.  I ignore it.  Most of the people I associate with on FB are pretty smart, well-read, and educated people.  Educated people tend to get the funny.  Well-read people tend to get the funny.   Smart people tend to get the funny.  Those same people are also going to understand that the person making the intolerant comment did not get the funny. It becomes a sort of in-joke among those of us who did get the funny.  Maybe that makes me a snob in some way.  Or an elitest.

But if I didn't laugh about it, I'd cry about the intolerance of people, and the hatred, and the general tendency to troll everything, even the funny stuff.  That's not funny, and I wish it would stop.  What can be solved by insulting people who disagree with you?  Maybe if such comments were automatically met with a blank stare and the sound of crickets, eventually even the most ignorant sorts would get the message.  Maybe.  It's a tricky thing with ignorance.   Sometimes the light bulb burns itself out with the intensity of the epiphany. 

Still, we should make an effort.

Words With Husbands

Larry and I were heading home from work one day this week. I was driving; Larry had his phone out and was playing Plants vs. Zombies.

"Hey, what's that game on Facebook that you play?" he asked me. I could hear the unmistakable sound of a zombie chewing, so I was unprepared for a question.

"What game?" I was stumped by his lack of specificity*.

"You know, that one?" Larry said. "The friends?"

"Words with Friends?"

"Yeah. I was looking at that."

(Silence)

My husband has a tendency to mentally wander off in the middle of conversations. I waited a few seconds to see if he would get back on track, then I redirected him with a prompt.

"And?"

"I might like to play it."

"Cool."

It was so nice to have a meaningful conversation. Since I am not really competitive, I knew that it was extremely likely that he would win many of the games we played. I did not want him doing a touchdown dance if he won a game. That would be just plain overkill.

Later that evening, Larry fired up his laptop to start a Words with Friends game with me. Zane was in his Robin the Boy Wonder costume and running around the kitchen chasing one of the cats. I was reading blogs. When I am reading something interesting, I am in 'the Zone'. Everything else is tuned out. This is when my husband often chooses to ask me questions.

"How do you play?"

"What are these letters, DL and TW, already on the board?"

"Hey, it's your turn."

"It's your turn now."

"I've been waiting for twenty minutes for you to take your turn!"

I finally played a word, then I went to bed. My game playing is strictly for fun. I've got about five games going with my various relatives and friends, and it can be days before I think up a word. My husband's need for an instant response may crush my groove, however. He will probably wake me up in the middle of the night, laptop in hand, for me to take my turn.

Maybe I should just let him win every game?








*I'll bet that you can't say 'specificity' five times fast!!