“I want you to have this job, of course sodomy is a prerequisite.”

My prodigy is blowing my mind on a near daily basis.  She’s been having fun testing my memory.  I suspect she’ll grow bored of this soon.  I’m humoring her because I used to do similar experiments.  The human brain is so fascinating.  I used to “test” the foster babies as a kid.  My parents would inform me of their condition, and I’d design an experiment to determine its accuracy.  I remember when Angelique came to live with us.  She was taken from her family on the reservation due to abuse.

She had a traumatic brain injury as an infant and had a few surgeries.  She turned out to be far brighter than reported.  She had the most contagious laugh, too.  Full belly laughs, followed by post-laughter chuckles.  I loved hearing her laugh so much I became her personal slapstick comedian.  I feigned tripping and falling over invisible objects in front of her playpen while she watched and laughed her ass off.  Then I’d laugh at her laughing.  It’s an awesome auditory memory, and sometimes I dream about it and wake myself up from laughing.

I’m getting excited as the date approaches when Stevie Nicks performs in St. Paul.  Yesterday, one of the officers in my Resistance group flew over me, and I estimated the time and mentally sent a hug into the sky to embrace her.  (I know, I’m a doof.)  I believe we’re all connected and can send love and comfort through our spirits (?) to one another at will.  I remember doing this as a child, but I had an elaborate ritual.  We had a hill in our back yard, and I’d lay on top on a blanket and look up at the stars while sending love and comfort to heavy hearts.  It’s also how I cope with knowing there are people suffering on this planet at all times.

J.K. Rowling is demonstrating why she’s the Queen of the internet, and I love her for it.  Welp, I already did, but more if possible.  I’m reading another Thomas Hardy novel titled, Far From the Madding Crowd.  So far it’s hilarious.  I think I like old school smart asses the best.  They don’t just write the funny part, they build up to it with ambiguous words, so you’re not sure if it’s intentional.  That makes it funnier to me.  Probably because the few times I’m funny it’s usually an accident.  I’ve been acquiring more hilarious people to follow on Twitter recently.  They’re like an investment in my future moods.  I just cracked myself up.

I’m getting ready to go entertain some cows with my violin.  I’m going to the same spot I did last time because the land owner invited me back.  He came up while I was playing, (startled the shit out of me) and complimented my playing.  He has some bison on another field, and I’d love to see how they respond to my music, (but they scare me.)  I do like to stare at them from the other side of the fence, though.  They stare back and usually win the stare down.  In person, they’re powerful and intimidating.  I bet one of them could help me break my high school track record in the 400 meter.  Heh.  I run faster when I’m terrified.  A Drill Sgt. discovered this when I was in basic training.  (He didn’t know I was unaware of the existence of blank M-16 ammunition and decided to motivate us by firing it behind us.)

Unfortunately, I kept running all the way back to the barracks and refused to come out of the latrine until my buddy caught up.  It’s funny to me now, but at the time I totally thought he lost his shit and was trying to kill us all.  (There are some movies I regret viewing prior to serving.)  I’m off to test my ability to play while afraid.

I was in the pool!

I accomplished my goal yesterday.  It wasn’t too bad.  I had to renew my driver’s license before mid-July, or I’d have to take the written test again.  The last time I had to renew, I didn’t notice it expired until a bank teller told me.  I was in the drive-thru, and I had a meltdown.  Even now, I’m struggling to put the words together, (like I blocked it out.)  I was literally driving with an expired license when I found out my license was expired, so my brain decided to try rebooting.  Good times.

The teller came outside, got in on the passenger side, turned off my engine, and asked me if I needed some water.  This is why I live in South Dakota.  It’s full of guardian angels.  When I head out of town to find some cows to entertain with my violin, I don’t worry about being shot for trespassing by a farmer.  I would never do this in Texas, (or during hunting season.)  I like farms, but only for visiting.  Farmers are pragmatic to the point of almost seeming a bit mean, but the impression doesn’t last very long.  I’ve noticed this trait in people who work in a potentially dangerous environment.

For some reason, cows love classical music.  When I sit on the fence and play, they act like it’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever witnessed.  It’s probable. However, I don’t mind.  I enjoy an audience that never claps.  I’m better at tolerating clapping now than when I was a kid, but I still avoid it.  I want to say it hurts, but we’re not playing horseshoes.  I use earplugs when I play with an ensemble or orchestra.  Sometimes the rush to get them in before the clapping starts practically does me in.  I usually only play for children.  They’re so good about applauding in sign language.

I’m so scattered today.  I can see the light at the end of this tunnel.  My energy is low, but I’m otherwise alright.  I’ll probably sleep like the dead tonight, and awaken refreshed in the morning.  Yep.  That’s happening (out of sheer will.)  I’m going to knock out the rest of my chores tonight so I can feel good about it tomorrow.  I tacked on a second hard thing yesterday, but it was getting new glasses.  I have to go back to pick them up next week.  The only hard part is driving in a busy area.  I probably should see if Lasik surgery can handle astigmatism yet.

I’m hard on glasses, and I’ve never had a good experience with super glue.  I try so hard to be careful, but I’m afraid it’s just beyond my motor skills.  Super annoying glue is more like it.  I feel like I could go to bed now, but I haven’t even had lunch yet.  I need to do better with variety in my diet.  I tend to eat a meal of fruit, a meal of vegetables, and a meal of nuts.  (I graze on bagged lettuce when I’m home.  It’s like soggy chips that don’t burn my lips.)  The problem lies in choosing only one type of each for weeks at a stretch.  I don’t cook.  I only eat cooked food when someone gives me some, or I go out to eat.

 I’m disappointed in food technology.  It’s nowhere near what it could be.  Bento boxes are the only food technology I’m pleased with.  (The tech is basically fun.)  If I were in charge, a meal would be the size of a King Snickers, only shaped like something cool.  I want to eat a 3D printed meal shaped like Totoro or Baymax.  I want to decide the flavors on demand from a list of favorites.  I want the option to experiment with flavors and textures.  I want it to be optimized to my body’s needs at the moment, based on a saliva sample or something.

Someone should be working on this.  I honestly don’t understand why I can’t have this now.  Granted, I probably couldn’t afford the original setup, but I do think micronutrients can be replicated in a lab.  I just don’t think anyone has figured out how to do it while generating a significant enough initial profit to take (it before shareholders) the risk.  Sigh.  Maybe Jeff Bezos will get around to it.  Let’s stop farming the land and grow us some scientists instead.  Let’s make earth great again.

 

 

If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Poise counts!

Tomorrow is a big day for me.  I’ll be stepping so far outside of my comfort zone that I’m not even feeling anxious.  It’s as if my body is saying, “Look… If you’re going to be all badass and try to pull off shit we never even considered before, then I’m just going to sit back and chill.  You got this.”  I made an Outline of Preparation, and am working through it step by step.  The only one that will be difficult is going to bed at 10 PM.  I’ve programmed my computer to give visual reminders in order to stay focused and not lose track of time.  I’m auditioning to play violin with a group of strangers this summer in a series of concerts.

I still have to pick out what to wear.  It says to dress casual.  That ambiguity almost eliminated me, but I decided that I’m going to wear what I normally wear on Fridays.  Jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers.  I figure if my clothing are more of a factor than my playing, than this isn’t the group for me.  I haven’t discussed this audition with my therapist or family yet.  I’m not sure if this is a chicken-shit move, or if it’s just not important enough to mention.  I want to do this by myself because if I’m chosen, it’ll feel more awesome to me than if I have assistance.  But there is the fact that if I don’t get chosen, I don’t have to mention it them, ever.  So I guess it’s a little bit chicken-shit, but I’m okay with that.

And now the anxiety is creeping in.  Little surges every time I think about tomorrow morning.  Nice try, Anxiety.  I see you there, trying to sabotage my plans.  But I’m not going to let you win this time.  Your days of keeping me locked in my tiny world are over.  I’m doing this audition no matter how much I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff on a windy day.  You don’t own me, and your little surges of fear are only making me more determined.  I know all I have to do is show up and do my best.  So fuck off.