“No, it always has to be explained to me, and then I have to have someone explain the explanation.”

Off Switch

I accomplished a great deal yesterday. Today, I’ve barely managed to pull off the mandatory tasks. I squeaked by with incredible effort. I can’t believe it’s early evening. I feel it should be around 2 PM at the latest. So much for my plan to turn in early tonight.

My off switch has never worked properly. Once I’m engaged in a task, it’s difficult to stop. I’d like to believe I have a bit of control over it, despite evidence to the contrary. I haven’t definitively determined what triggers it to become worse. Not even close. I have two hypotheses; both discouraging. Sigh.

I love being completely absorbed in what I’m doing. It’s like stepping out of time, letting go of everything, including my body, and focusing only on what I’m doing. Leaving that state makes me want to weep. But I’ve accepted I must, often. Not doing so often enough is the equivalent of living under a rock.

I’ve learned it’s not the way I want to exist, much as I love it. It murders my ability to socialize, for starters. (I’m always going to regret not finding out about Stevie Nicks sooner.) There are excellent reasons to check in with the rest of the world on a regular basis, and I’m absolutely interested.

The thing is, acknowledging the world outside my head is borderline sadistic. There’s a shitload of pain out here, and I’m unshielded. I don’t have the experience in coping necessary to navigate without rivers of tears; so I tend to retreat when I sense I’m failing and have no clue what I’m doing wrong. (I despise that feeling.)

My decision to attend a Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks concert in the future is turning out to be an effective retreat deterrent. (At least when it’s voluntary.) I need to stay connected, so I’ll know when they go on tour. I already had the terrible, awful nightmare where I discover I missed out because I was too distracted to get tickets. I woke up and immediately began bawling like it really happened. I’m such a doof. Heh. But it was horrible!

I’m going to work out a new time management strategy. I keep adding new things, but there are still only 24 hours in a day. My bad. This is my reward for bragging about my math skills, eh? The universe is hilarious (sometimes.) I’m off to read.

“It was more like a full-bodied dry heave set to music.”

For the music

I’m sad about the passing of author, Ursula LeGuin, yesterday.  Today is Virginia Woolf’s 136th birthday.  I decided to spend the day listening to Lorde.  I’m not done yet, but it’s been a soothing day so far.  She’s one of my healing sisters, along with Stevie Nicks, Beyoncè, Amy Lee, Sheryl Crow, Agnetha Faltskog, and Aretha Franklin.

They’re who caught me up through their music when I was (barely) enduring a period of devastation.  Losing my parents and closest siblings, divorce, surviving rape, etc.  All leveled me.  I can’t really wrap my head around the concept of such powerful bonds with people I’ve never met.  It’s too abstract.  (Much easier to just cherish it and enjoy the music.)

I’ve come to an important decision.  The next time Stevie Nicks or Fleetwood Mac tour, I’m going to go.  I’ve imagined it and tallied up the known consequences as well as potential unfortunate situations.  If they all happen, it’ll still be worth it.  (If nobody shoots me,) it’ll be an incredible experience.  (That’s the only thing I can think of at the moment that would utterly ruin it.)

I’m not going to let autism or PTSD rob me of this experience.  (Because hell no.)  I already know it’s not possible to die from being too happy.  So it’s all good.  Whatever I have to pay afterward (stapled to the floor) will be worth it.  Depending on when, I’ll either be going with M. or his sister, S.  Hopefully both.

I have noise canceling headphones to wear when the band isn’t playing.  Also, dark tinted glasses if it’s an outdoor show, or they flash bright lights at the audience.  I have lots of pocket-sized fidgets and anxiety focus figures.  Mini Tina (From Bob’s Burgers) is my favorite.

Tina

She’s only 2″ tall.  I also have a 24-Karat-Gold:  Songs from the Vault keychain from the Stevie Nicks website.  I love how it feels to hold, and it’s always cool.  I used to have a tiny Garnet from Steven Universe, but I lost it.   (I love cartoons.)  Now I want to watch Hey Arnold!, or Rocket Power.  Heh.  I’m off to read.

 

 

I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m a US postal worker, and my mail truck was just ambushed by a band of backwoods mail-hating survivalists.

Today is a good day.  I got invited to jam with a local band this afternoon.  I didn’t want to go, but my reason sucked, so I went anyway.  I was pretty anxious on the way and for the first few minutes.  Then I asked if I can play too.  They asked me what I play, and I said I’d love anything with sticks or strings.

When anxiety turns into excitement like that, it’s a weird feeling.  It almost feels impossible to contain.  Everything in me demanded I jump up and down or I would burst into a gazillion broken pieces.  I hopped a few times to prevent it, then stopped and hoped nobody noticed.  The man who plays lead guitar (saw and) said he hoped my enthusiasm was contagious.  (I decided I love him.)

I went for the bass because nobody else did.  I told them I’ve only been playing it for a short time, so don’t expect any solos.  They all laughed, and I had another one of those moments where I wonder if they know I mean literally, then agonize over whether to ask.  I didn’t ask.  (Thank you, Stevie Nicks, for being the one person on this planet who finally managed to convince me to always think before speaking, and take my time.)

Tangent:  It took a long time for me to fully concede it’s sometimes better to say nothing, (even if it’s incredibly hilarious.)   It’s a semi-painful concession.  Part of me would rather live in a world where anything is okay to say, so long as it’s wicked funny.  Then I remember there’s absolutely no way that wouldn’t end in (rivers of) tears (for me.)  Damn.  I guess Stevie Nicks got me to (finally) grow up.  Um…  Ow.  😂😂😂😂😂

I had so much fun playing my face still hurts from smiling.  M. complimented me and seemed surprised how well I hung in there.  Then I ruined it by telling him it’s because I practice with the same songs, and therefore suggested them (Jackson 5.)   Jermaine Jackson is the bar I set for my bass playing endeavor.  (If you knew how many notes I currently have to drop to stay in time with the song, you’d be laughing with me.)  It still sounds pretty good, though.  I’m a rhythm bass player.  Heh.

I brought my violin, but as expected, they just looked at it, then looked at me, then looked away.  Did everyone in South Dakota get together and decide on this reaction?  I bet there was cake.  😒  I’m probably still a little bit over excited.  It’s hard to calm down after having a great time.  M. wants to go sit in the hot tub.  It would probably help, but it just seems so unsanitary.  Maybe I’ll just put my legs in.  Apparently, my germaphobia ends with my knees.  💜

“I mean, only a sick twisted mind could be that rude and ignorant.”

I’m having so much fun getting to know Evanescence all over again.  I geeked out about it on my new creativity blog.  It’s still too sparse for sharing, but it’s getting there.  I’ve discovered synthesizers are fascinating.  I’ve only played with one of the pocket operators so far:  Robot.

I only meant to fiddle with it for a few minutes.  It turned into over two hours, somehow.  It’s slightly larger than a deck of cards.  I got the cases, despite being offended by how they’re marketed.  Just charge more for the complete product.  Don’t compromise after creating such an excellent tool.

I’m kinda mad at Teenage Engineering for marketing this product like they have low self-esteem.  They’re an innovative company creating awesome stuff for creative people.  If I were in charge, they would come with a better case, and each would cost $99.

I wouldn’t give the customer the option of passing on a case that will very likely prevent them from breaking it within a week.  That’s just silly.  They would be installed before shipping.

I sure do love the product anyway, though.  So much.  Now I want a base station where I can position three connected Pocket Operators optimally for playing them live.  It needs to secure them, and angle them for access.  It should have some weight to it.

It should have some sort of LED lighting, and an OLED screen.  And provide power to all three Pocket Operators.  Rechargeable, with at least six hours of battery life.  And a nice case.  I’ll stop before I talk myself into building a fugly prototype.

I guess I assume the minds who can create such a fascinating tool could also recognize these things as a logical addition. Fortunately, there are 3D printers.  I’m going to go look for more footage of Stevie Nicks on her current tour.  She’s finishing up in New Zealand.

I watched one yesterday where some people in the audience at the concert were talking while Stevie Nicks was singing.  That’s really rude (on earth.)  I actually read the comments on YouTube, it was so disturbing.  There was one, and it said exactly that.  I clicked whatever icon signifies my support and approval.  Dammit.

“Jerry, Newman and I are engaged in a epic struggle for world domination.”

It’s been a fantastic week. I’m still listening to Synthesis by Evanescence several times a day. It will be a while before I’m ready to listen to anything else. (This always happens with unicorns.) M. is overtly studying my behavior.

I don’t mind, of course. I just thought of four ways to elaborate on that, and they all made me laugh out loud. M. asked me if I’m “over Stevie Nicks” now that Evanescence just rocked my world. (I walked away without saying a word. See Alison adult, then feel smug about it.)

I think he was just teasing me. Especially since I insisted he watch some Stevie Nicks interviews with me on YouTube yesterday, (to get a different perspective.) I’ll ask later because now it’s going to bother me. I’m still pretty timid about assuming what I interpret is in the same universe as that of others. (For good reason.)

I’m astonished how little anxiety I’ve experienced this week. My ears are a bit raw from wearing uncomfortable headphones for hours. I’ll be ecstatic when wireless headphones improve. At least enough to completely replace wired cans for music. They’re podcast ready at this point IMHO.

I’m researching a new pair of critical listening over-ear headphones. It’s probably a good thing Evanescence doesn’t release albums too often, as this happened last time. The mastering is superb in Synthesis. I haven’t watched the making of videos yet, but when I do, I’ll be hoping to see which headphones they used, (then praying I can afford them.)

I’ll never own a pair of Beats. That’s my precise level of an audiophile. Heh.

Dear Pharell Williams, please (all over) design some Audio Technica Limited Edition ATH-MX50’s with built-in Bluetooth 4.2, Amp/DAC, memory foam/breathable pads, and a dope hard case. Love, me. I’d pay $499 (with minimal whining.) Please. 🙃

I’m reading Oathbringer, presently. It’s an uber-epic novel in a series within the Cosmere (universe.) It’s going to take me a while to finish my first read, and I’ll re-read it several times. It’s part of my journey. Brandon Sanderson earned a lot of influence in my life. (Right up there with Stevie Nicks, and just as gently.)

I had a shower cry over Al Franken’s outing as a predator. He came from Hollywood, which made it less shocking. But it still hurts a lot.

Dear predators, predatory behavior makes loving you painful at best. Please grow forward. Love, Evolved humanity.

My inner 5-year-old just called me a hippie and suggested I move to California, so I’m off to beat my drums.