Come on, just look at me. Tell me I’m not Kramer.

I’ve been waiting for what I see coming since the day I walked the grounds of the Dachau concentration camp memorial near Munich.  That was the worst day of my life.  It’s the day I became an adult.  It’s the day I witnessed pure evil for the first time.  I knew evil existed and caught glimpses, but I was in denial.  I didn’t believe humans were capable of pure evil.  It was the day I discovered lying to myself was futile.  My innocence died painfully as I processed my surroundings.

I decided I will do what I know to be right, no matter the cost to myself.   I made my choice, and I’ll uphold it for life.  I possess the discipline, character, and wit necessary to wield a deadly sword in the real war.  I learned from the mistakes of our ancestors.  Some of them are still living in Bavaria.  They were my neighbors.  They were no different than you or I.  They were not evil.  For almost all of them, their horrible crime was choosing their life over their honor.  I’m not that audacious.  I’ll make the right choice.

For me, it’s easy.  I’d rather die a slow painful death than live a slow painful life.  I’m impatient.  I have no tolerance for human suffering.  If I’m afraid, I want to go first.  I’m a protector.  I don’t think it was ever a conscious decision on my part.  Birth order, perhaps.  That inane sense was magnified by my service.  Being an adult increases it even more.  I probably should have spent more of my childhood socializing, and less reading and writing code.  But here we are.

I’ve always been impressionable.  I copy what I see others doing and saying sometimes.  (I hear it’s an aspie thing)  My older siblings considered me a form of entertainment.  When teenagers, they would enlist me to repeat things that should never come out of the mouth of a sweet little six-year-old girl, (knowing I wasn’t comprehending a word of it.) I’m only irked I wasn’t old enough to realize why I was hilarious.  However, I did enjoy watching them fall apart laughing.  Especially the few times I caught my mom laughing, too.

I’m just putting that out there before I mention it said, “Tell your mom I said thanks,” in the memo line on the check I wrote to the guy who hauled away my excess junk.  We’ve been exchanging smart ass comments via text a few times a day since he noticed.  He walks the very fine line between hysterically funny and offensive.  I love that quality in a person, probably because I’m addicted to belly laughing.  It’s the ab workout I’m okay with.

I wrote a love letter to Microsoft for the Surface Pro 4 in a feedback form earlier.  I write as many sappy compliments to companies as I write complaint letters.  I know.  I’m a dork.  It started out as an assignment from my mom to persuade me to work on my atrocious handwriting.  It backfired because I found our typewriter, and I’ve been writing them since.  My mom got me to maintain a balance between compliments and complaints, at least.  My handwriting sucks even more, though.

Usually, I write my compliments to Amazon and Dell.  I’m a bit surprised they haven’t gotten restraining orders, I love them so much.  Hy-Vee is another company I gush over.  They’re the trifecta of my consumerism.  They earned my loyalty with excellence.  I’m a cheerleader for awesome.

The ACLU contacted me, and I’ve been invited to my state capital to defend LGBT, immigrants, refugees, women, and people of all faiths during the upcoming legislative session.  The last time I was there was with my high school debate club.  I won the extemp category because the judge didn’t know black people could talk intelligently.  I know!!!  I put the plaque under the rear tire of the bus before we left.

My debate partner was a low talker.  It made it hard not to giggle whenever it was her turn, and that was before I saw Seinfeld.  I ordered some dressier boots to wear in Pierre.  I usually dress like Howard Wolowitz with a kicks fetish, but I know how to look professional.  I could always wear my Army dress uniform.  Olive green polyester is eternally fashionable, right?  I’m off to read.


Today has been awesome.  I got 3 hours of continuous sleep.  Yay!  No nightmares.  Shoutout to estrella1982 for suggesting I look into lucid dreaming.  It’s fascinating, and I’ll absolutely be utilizing the technique.  I started my dosage change today.  Prozac has a long half life, so it’ll be about a month before the change takes effect.  It helps that I run because it requires me to remain well hydrated, and helps flush toxins out of my body faster.

I followed a woman on Twitter recently, and have discovered that I struck pure gold.  She’s beautiful, kind, and makes Vines that encourage people to be loving and accepting.  Plus she’s a cat lady.  Gold.  I got my responses back from Twitter regarding the racist harassment I endured a few days ago.  They basically praised their own concern for preventing harassment on the site for the first half of the email, and then told me that they didn’t find anything they consider harassment in the screen shots I sent in my reports.  I have since perused their rules regarding harassment, and discovered that unless someone directly threatens to kill you, or commit suicide, they don’t care.  So I wasn’t surprised by their email.

I accept that this is their stance on the topic.  I’ve decided to continue utilizing the site with my more thorough understanding of the role they’re willing to take in keeping the site safe in their view.  Logic is easy to accept.  I’ll utilize the block feature more readily in the future, should I encounter such hatefulness and racism.  It’s the perfect tool to assist me in protecting myself.  For some reason, in the instance I reported, I had to block the person twice before it took effect.  It could be that I double clicked the option rather than a single click.  I’ve done that with favoriting before.

I would like a more tactile option.  Like a huge red button mounted on the wall that I could whack with a purpose when encountering such unpleasantness.  But instead, I’ll just visualize it.  I’m not playing in the hashtag games today.  They are tags that encourage gore and violence.  Not my thing.  I know it’s not literal, but it’s still disturbing.  Heroes Reborn is on tonight.  I hope I can pay attention.  I missed The Big Bang Theory on Monday because I was having sensory overload issues.  Heroes Reborn is one of those shows that is right at the limit of what I can handle as far as violence and suspense.  I wish I could read it first.  Same with Minority Report.  

I’m presently reading, The Cycle of Arawn trilogy, by Edward W. Robertson.  It’s a fantasy series.  I’m liking it so far.  After that I have a new book by Amanda Palmer titled, The Art of Asking.  It was recommended by a friend on Twitter who’s awesome.  Every day she shares links to fascinating stuff.  Whenever I’m waiting for code to compile or content to render, I pop over to check my feed.  A few times, I’ve gotten absorbed in the hashtag games and spent more time than I should have goofing off.

I make up for it on the weekends, when I allow myself to hyper focus on my projects.  Allowing 2 days per week to let myself become completely absorbed in what I’m doing has been the best way to avoid meltdowns that I’ve discovered so far.  Aside from my cat, no interruptions are heeded.  I live for weekends.  I’ve been so much more social now that I’m paying attention to Twitter.  It’s hard.  Even though it’s mostly reading, it still can overwhelm me.  Today, someone I follow changed their avatar.  It really threw me.  I took a moment to stim and collect myself, and then forced myself to respond to it in the most positive manner I could muster.  She acknowledged my response, and mentioned she may put it back how it was in the future.  I felt relief at the prospect.

I’ve unfollowed a few people who change their avatar like most people change their undergarments.  I don’t understand why someone would do that.  It’s like changing your face.  It’s really upsetting.  But I’ve learned not to expect people to understand this.  Sassafrantz is the only one that doesn’t rattle me when she does this.  It’s not often, and she keeps tweets the photo of her new avatar when she changes it, and keeps the former one in her photo timeline.  That helps.

I can tell I’m still a little loopy from sleep deprivation.  My mind is all over the place hahaha.  My cat was so funny this morning.  I was laying on the floor beside her after my run.  I started to sit up to do my stretching, and she got so offended.  She made a loud, very long meow sound, and then hit me on the arm with her paw.  I don’t know what I did wrong that offended her, but it made me laugh really hard.  I guess she wasn’t ready for me to start moving again.  I apologized to her and then praised her for a bit while stroking her cheeks.  She settled, and I carried on.  So funny!  I think my cat is autistic too.  Here she is falling asleep on her Flintstones/Jetsons quilt I made her.




Laughing It Off

It dipped into the frost range last night.  Well, this morning.  It’s currently 34 degrees F.  It’s going up to 55 later.  Our state population doubles today as the hunters come to hunt pheasant.  Sometimes I go to the airport and watch them land and gather their gear.  But not today.  We have a spa here that just got sensory deprivation pods.  They have more salt than the dead sea, so you allegedly float while either in darkness, or with soothing lights and relaxing music for an hour.  Black people tend to have denser bones, so I’m not sure I would float.  I know in a regular pool I don’t.

It doesn’t stop me from swimming, though.  I enjoy it.  I will have my apartment back to myself later today.  I like having my nephew here, but I don’t like when it breaks my schedule.  He kept talking to me when I was coding.  But he did call tech support for an issue I was having with my virtual server.  I’m thankful for him doing that.  It has to be pretty much life and death for me to initiate a phone call.  And even then, my voice usually disappears from the anxiety.  I don’t usually answer the phone either, because I have the ringer turned down as low as possible on all handsets, and if the caller knows me, they know better than to call.

I like watching the news at 5 AM because the weather man is a total smartass.  The anchor woman was in a commercial talking about how everyone gets along so well, and then the camera moved to him sitting beside her, and he said, “We hate her”.  I sprayed my water and had a coughing fit as I didn’t see that coming.  Another one shows him in footed pajamas, interrupting a segment to announce McDonald’s now serves breakfast all day, while eating an Egg McMuffin.  One of my brothers used to work there so I was already biased.  He says funny stuff a lot but you have to pay attention because he deadpans it.  I didn’t get deadpan humor until I saw Aubrey Plaza in Funny People.  I’m the only one I know who thought that movie was hilarious and charming.

I also really liked Identity Thief, and This is Where I Leave You.  I woke myself up from laughing at a joke from that movie that came up in my dreams.  I wake myself up laughing a lot.  It’s because I have PTSD, which manifests mainly as depression and anxiety.  Depression sucks so I have a super plan for preventing it.  Exercise + low carb no junk diet + Prozac + videos of stand up comedians + videos of laughing babies = a happy person who you’d never realize has an issue with depression.  If I skip a run, or eat crap (cheetos, fast food, etc) it has a negative effect quickly.

I’ve messed up when I couldn’t work up the courage to go grocery shopping, and instead ordered a large pizza, and ate it for every meal for 3 days in a row.  It killed my motivation to run even though I love it, and then my sensitivity went up in direct relation to my ability to communicate going down.  Boy did I pay for that mistake.  I have a depression box for emergencies.  Sometimes, for no apparent reason, my mood plummets seemingly instantly.  It’s like a punch in the gut.  When that happens, I grab the box and start battling, even though I don’t want to do so.  I have rules.  No naps, no pity parties, and use the depression box if necessary because it works if I do.

Inside is a round lidded container in which I put paper strips with activities on them.  I draw one, and then do it.  They are things like create a song, design a quilt, play violin to the cows, etc.  Creative things I enjoy doing that keep me distracted for a while.  If it’s really bad, I have a secret weapon.  My DVD of Wanda Sykes: I’ma Be Me.  That DVD is to comedy what morphine is to a skinned knee.  I don’t use it very often.  It’s been about a year since I last saw it.  This is a good thing.  The first time I watched it, I laughed so hard I threw up.  Gross, I know.  But I laughed at myself, cleaned up, and went back to watch the rest. That hadn’t happened since I was a kid laughing at my brother, and getting sent to eat in the garage.  I had a tray table and lawn chair set up in anticipation of it happening.  I spent many suppers eating in the garage between bursts of laughter.  Steve would come out to the garage after he finished eating and start up again with his hilarious antics.  We were the only house in the neighborhood where the kids got in trouble for laughing too hard.

I have such fond memories from it.  It’s usually what causes me to wake myself up from laughing.  The weather guy just imitated the Trololo guy in the middle of the weather forecast.  😂


I’ve been watching Louie on Amazon Video.  Several times, it’s made me laugh so hard I had to pause it until I could regroup.  He’s hilarious.  He’s extremely offensive, yet he somehow gets you to laugh at the most absurd things imaginable.  Like when his 5-year-old daughter told him she loves Mommy more than him.  And he seems to take it in stride, while continuing to help her brush her teeth.  But when she’s finished and leaving the bathroom to climb into bed, he flips her off, while telling her he loves her.

I laughed really hard.  I had to walk around a bit, it was so funny.  You know he really does love his daughter.  You also know that what she said is pretty typical for her age.  But nonetheless, it was a hurtful thing to say, and she was an asshole for saying it.  His reaction was very human, and therefore, hilarious. Children are extremely loveable.  It’s how they survive.  Being adorable and fresh and innocent.  But they’re also assholes sometimes, and we’re not allowed to let them know we notice.  So his reaction hit me just right, and I had a good, healthy laugh.

It got me thinking about my sense of humor.  I thank my mom for my appreciation of all things funny.  I was raised on Benny Hill, Leo Buscaglia, Garrison Keillor, Upstairs Downstairs, M.A.S.H., and All in the Family.  We watched The Carol Burnett Show religiously.  She even passed on her Erma Bombeck books for my enjoyment.  My strongest memory of my mom is her laughing really hard while watching, Meet the Parents.  It’s an awesome memory.

As I grew, I became a fan of Richard Pryor, George Carlin, and that Jello Popsicle eating serial rapist whose name I won’t say.  Later, I fell in love with the comedy of Ellen Degeneres, Laura Kightlinger, Wanda Sykes, and Chris Rock.  More recently, I’ve enjoyed watching The Big Bang Theory, Modern Family, Seinfeld reruns, and of course Amy Schumer.  I watched all three seasons of Inside Amy Schumer over a weekend of laughter.  I also love movies with Melissa McCarthy.


Laughter is a big part of my life, and my favorite hobby.  I’m looking forward to discovering more funny people who are so good at making me laugh and adding joy to my life.