Another Excuse

I find that I am easily confused. This is only fair, given that I'm easily confusing too, but somehow that doesn't make it any easier for me to cope when I'm at an ice cream shop or am walking down the street on Christmas Eve, and see lots and lots of people wearing glowing devil horns. The people dressed up as animals, that I could deal with. But the devil horns was just a tad bit too much for me. I honestly don't know what I would have done if they'd tried to hide my coat.

Likely I'd have tried clicking my heels together chanting "There's no place like home, there's no place like home," thereby reinforcing the widely-held belief that I'm easily confusing whilst convincing the rest of the world which doesn't yet know it that I'm certifiably insane. But I've lost the certificate.

I think that I handle most changing situations fine. My head has yet to explode as it tries to deal with paradoxen, and even has managed to create a few on its own. But yet, even with the ability to handle the difficult questions I seem to have, I still manage to get confused. Maybe it's a defensive measure that helps keep the universe from exploding whenever I see myself walking down the street.

Either way, I'm still going to start using it as an excuse. "I'm confused... why did I get out of bed this morning, again? Oh well, back to sleep for me, I guess!"

It's Not Easy, Being Green

I think that I've decided that green isn't. There really isn't any color there, but our eyes think that no color at all is boring and would make them feel useless. So they interpret the lack of color for us.

The consequences if they didn't would be horrible, though, you have to admit. No more green means I'd try to walk through the huge wall instead of using the door to get to the next room, and end up hurting myself pretty badly.

I wouldn't ever know if my plants were doing well, or if someone had snuck in and stole them in the middle of the night. I'd end up watering them, hoping that it was doing some good, until the day I decided they must not be there any longer, as there's no chance I could manage to keep a plant alive for so long. But once I stopped watering, of course the plant would die, proving that it had been there in the first place by changing to brown.

I'd also no longer be able to wear my green shirts, of which I have a few, or my green flannel, which is the only flannel I have anymore, since my blue one decided that adding a few holes would be an interesting experiment in the conservation of matter. I'd have to wear some other color of shirt for obvious reasons. I'd have to find a new flannel, as this one would have gone missing ages ago.

And, of course, my eyes would probably be right. If they're not willing to show me what's there, what good are they? They'd be pretty boring, and I'd start using them less, instead developing my sense of hearing and practice echo-location.

I don't want to have to sleep upside down. I'm glad I can still see the color green.

Not Really Paranoid

I may not be the center of the universe, but there sure seem to be a lot of people that pay attention to me. And it's not just because I'm a somewhat tall American guy living in Shanghai. Or at least I don't think so, 'cause it seemed like lots of people payed similar attention to me in California.

That, and it's harder to notice I'm a tall American guy while we're driving along in a taxi. But apparently someone does. I thought they'd stopped looking out for me when we'd left America, but sadly, I was wrong.

In America, ambulances, police cars, cars with horns, bicycles with those bells, anything that's got at least two distinct tones seems to know exactly where I am. As I approach them, they play at one tone, the higher, and after I pass, they swap to the lower one. It can't be explained by physics and wavelengths, it can't be that my ears are simply having problems.

No, obviously people simply know where I am.

Of course, I suspect that the guy a few cars in front of me thinks he's being watched. For if the sound changes when I'm passed by, he's got to think it's because they notice him and just have delayed reactions.

It's not paranoia when the sound changes every time, right?

The Tortise or the Turtle

I think I want a pet turtle. I would want to be a turtle, but I think I'd like to have more room to keep my stuff. They really don't have that much room, without having the whole four-walls-and-a-roof thing going on. They don't even have pockets--if they want to store food for the winter, I fear they have to pretend to be chipmunks and store food in their cheeks.

Not that they have particularly food-worthy cheeks. So I guess that they just have to keep hunting all winter long. Or become pets.

And since I feel sorry for them having to work so hard with so little reward, I'm wanting to do my part. I want a pet turtle. I couldn't very well hug him and squeeze him, but I could call him George. And I could give him food. Lots and lots of food, so he could retire in comfort instead of being stuck on the street (but not homeless) begging for scraps.

I'd like to have a pet turtle, but I don't know that I really have room, or that I'm even allowed in my place. But if I got a pet turtle, at least I could have something to stop that door from blowing open whenever there's the least bit of wind. Or he could take the place of the kitten and be a good paper weight.

Planetary Storage

I want many things. But then, who doesn't? A pony, a new bike, the latest computer system, there's simply so much stuff to have. And so much stuff to want. I think I want so much stuff, that I'm not sure where to even start listing it. I'd go alphabetically, but then there'd be no chance that I'd possibly get that zoo pass I've been wanting to pick up. Because I want to see the zebra.

But then, I recently got rid of many things. Some of which I didn't really want to get rid of, some of which I had a hard time putting in that 'I'm never going to see this again, whether or not I ever decide I want to do so in the future' pile. And then some of the things haven't worked for years and I forgot I even had, seeing how they were hidden in the far back corner of the closet. The one that I forgot I even had--closets only have one back corner, right?

I'm happy to no longer have the stuff, even though I'm fairly certain I'll regret getting rid of some of it in the future. But then I'll forget about it again. If I didn't remember it before I started cleaning, I won't remember it again in a month or two when the next shiny thing comes along. But now that I've removed so much stuff from my life, I feel like I should have more room.

More room means it's time to get more stuff. Right? Right?? Please?

'cause I like stuff. There're many things I want. I just wish they didn't weigh me down so much. I'd like to find somewhere to keep all my stuff, but I hear the earth's already taken.

Maybe I could make an offer on Venus. But then I'd have to find somewhere to store it.

Close Calls

Some days you just really shouldn't get out of bed. Generally you don't really know this until it's too late, thinking that you're really just looking for excuses to stay under those really comfortable covers for just a few more minutes. Sometimes you think you're just being lazy. Sometimes it pays to be lazy, though.

Take yesterday, for instance.

I didn't really want to get out of bed, but I did anyway. Work, things to do, places to go, people to see, not enough time to just lay around all day. Driving to work should have given me a hint that it wasn't going to be that great of a day. I normally don't like merging in traffic, but when you've got plenty of space start merging and aren't noticed until the guy in the lane you're merging into is a handful of feet away. I had nowhere to go, and guess made the mistake of assuming someone was paying even marginal attention to the road.

Oh well, he still had a couple of inches to spare.

It was much less scary, given that if he hadn't noticed, he would have just clipped the front of my car at low speeds, than yesterday evening. I'd had enough of cars and not enough fresh air, so opted to walk to the store instead of drive. Start crossing the street once my walk signal comes on, and a guy making a right turn decides he really wants to go.

I'm glad his girlfriend yelled at him for me. I don't think she was very pleased, given the look of terror on her face for a second there. I was safe enough, as I saw him coming, but I didn't like having to jump out of the way. And he did stop in time too.

He even had more than a couple of inches to spare.

Still, it makes me wonder why I get up in the morning, sometimes.

Sleep Puts me to Lectures

I had a dream last night. It kept me from sleeping well. It was a rather silly thing to keep me from sleeping well, but I don't like it when my dreams make me think all night long. (Or at least for the ten minutes or even two seconds right before I wake up.) I like it even less when my dreams keep me thinking through the day.

It's been a while since I had a dream of being in class. I've not had the "I forgot my homework" nightmare in at least a month. It's been much, much longer since I was assigned homework in my sleep. But as I dreampt, I listened to a lecture (really short lecture) about a guy many centuries ago that visited his friend and had to walk home way after dark. It was about as boring as lectures tend to be.

After the (five-second) lecture, I was assigned homework. I don't like homework. Not when I have to actually do something. But I knew it would take much too long to come up with 500 ideas for a paper on the topic, so I started on my homework right away. While I slept.

I continued my homework after I woke up, but the ideas I had whilst still in bed were better than anything I could imagine after I got going for the day. I was brilliant. I was amazing. And then I woke up.

Now I just hope I don't forget to hand in my homework tonight. Tomorrow I expect to have to spend the whole day writing a paper on the socioeconomic consequences of ancient man having been capable of seeing well enough to do even the most minor of tasks once the sun went down, and how the world can be greatful for the miner's hat, giving you light wherever you look.