Under Pressure...

Now there's a song that makes me jump up and dance :)

Main Entry: tit·il·late
Function: verb
To excite pleasurably : arouse by stimulation; (intransitive verb) to act as a stimulant to pleasurable excitement

We have an ongoing discussion in our house as to whether or not "titillate" can be used in a non-sexual manner. I say yes, the girls say no. I cannot come up with a single sentence to support my opinion, but that's because I'm in a funk.

If a funk must have a color, we'll go with the traditional blue to match the popsicle l'ange énergique ate for breakfast this a.m. If nothing else, I've taught my children good eating habits and at least two good words, "titillate" and "ablutions."

Being an all-girl household, we use manly tools for unmanly jobs - for instance, Jody used the handle of a phillips screwdriver to break the popsicle into dainty chunks prior to ingestion.

What causeth the funk, you ask? Likely the fact that I did NOT sleep like a rock last night. That would be because Jody took me to see a vampire movie. After dark.

Chippin' around
kick my brains round the floor
These are the days
It never rains but it pours

So, what part of my screaming nonstop through the quarter mile of Haunted Forest did she not understand? Still, she took me to a horror film three days before Halloween. Now, when I listen to the moon song in my head (to make me feel better), I just hear this wierd little scary voice singing, "I see the moon and the moon sees me. The moon sees the one that I want to see." Then silence. See? You are spooked now, too, aren't you?

If someone is a big scaredy-cat, they should only go see horror movies in the full of sunlight. And they should follow up with something fun, like chasing goats that faint when scared.

But no, we went to see 30 Days of Night after dark. Then we went home to bed. Dumb-asses.

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming let me out!
Pray tomorrow takes me high high higher
Pressure on people
People on streets

Main Entry: epiph·a·ny
Pronunciation: \i-ˈpi-fə-nē\
Function: noun
(1): a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2): an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3): an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b: a revealing scene or moment

So, do other people's kids dress up like sister chromatids for Halloween?

According to wikipedia and The Fairest Angel, a chromatid is one of two identical strands of DNA making up a chromosome that are joined at their centromeres. This is an important point because they are sister-chromatids only so long as the centromeres remain in contact. When they separate, the strands become daughter-chromosomes.

Interesting. Food for my later thoughts; I am sure there is an epiphany in there somewhere...

The tips of the chromatid are called telomeres. I know about telomeres because mon deuxième ange once explained to me that these little bastards are why I am gonna grow old no matter how often I go dancing. Damn telomeres, I hate them...

Main Entry: scintillating
Function: adjective
brilliantly lively, stimulating, or witty (a scintillating conversation)

In truth, these conversations are always fascinating to me, especially because the girls become so lively when discussing. Take this week for example. The Baby Bear and I were having coffee at Victor's (her fave even though she works for Starbucks), and she was extremely animated when describing the mytosis process of chromatids. Her hands were up in the air, imitating chromasomes and chromatids and...well, I was spell-bound and she wasn't even holding a wand.

But my absolute favorite part of these discussions is the grounding factor. That's the moment when, as we are sitting in the lofty hall of learning, and the speaker is expounding on a topic of rare and considerable importance, and the listeners are respectfully reclining with hands on chins in thoughtful pose, the speaker cuts the cheese.

Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For the people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
this is ourselves

Can't stop thinking about the goats

I had a crappy night last night, so I decided to watch the

goat video

again. Can I just say, "HYS-TER-I-CAL!"

What was God thinking on this one? I'd like to know. In fact, that may be my first question when I get to Heaven. "Lord, could you explain the fainting goats? Was that a creation you made to provide food for lazy carnivores?"

Seriously. The fainting goat species totally defies the principle Survival of the Fittest. The goat not only falls over but it turns to expose its underbelly.

Think about it. You are a lazy lion; you can 1. chase a gazelle, or you can 2. say "boo" to a fainting goat. In fact, you can say "boo" to an entire herd of fainting goats and eat for a month.

How did this species not go extinct a few million years ago?

True, those kids who survive being eaten eventually grow up and learn to cope with this strange fear instinct by stiffening their legs. Yeah, that's a heck of a lot better. So, now the lazy lion has to actually knock the goat over - big frikkin' deal. This mean the adult fainting goat will survive being eaten by any lion who doesn't want to lift the fork and knife.

To be honest, I'm glad to learn about the fainting goat, and not just because it gives me something as funny to watch as the Manic Monday Morning Bunny. I also like that it defies the laws of nature by surviving while doing the exact opposite of "Fight or Flight." This means there's hope for those of us who live out of step with the rest of the world. As long as there are no hungry lions close by.

This reminds me of what forest rangers tell you to do if you are approached by a bear. You are supposed to roll up into a ball and lay there. Yeah, no. Sorry, but I am gonna run like hell, then go home and work out the residual fear by proving my dominance over a herd of goats.

To Pee or Not To Pee...

So, I'm at a Women's Seminar and there are a freakin' TON of women here. We are being educated on how to get along better in a man's world. First of all, it's a man's world?? Right off the bat, I feel defeated...

Truly! Like, are men all across the globe attending seminars that teach them how to get along in a woman's world? I can only imagine how those classes would go :)

I know one thing that would be different for sure - the ratio of salads to sandwiches provided during lunch would be significantly different. And men would not get tiny fingerling cookies for their afternoon snack. They would get cowpie-sized chocolate chip cookies, three each. I am absolutely starved!!

And the lines going into restrooms would move faster, too.

Some thought was given to this last, however, and the men's restroom was appropriated for use of women throughout this three-day conference. This should have helped, but turns out there are half the number of stalls in men's restrooms than women's, so no.

Using a men's restroom was, for me, a small step of my own to learn to live in a man's world. That's right, at the age of 50, I have now ventured into my first men's restroom. I've been in unisex bathrooms, of course, but I've never gone into a full-strength, multiple-stall men's restroom. And I would guess there are at least four other women in the world who have not, los quatro angeles, si?

'Twas actually quite the adventure for me. Since the line was long, I had time to analyze my feelings. First, I was intensely curious about the urinals but hesitant to look at them lest I be caught. Wierd, eh? The urinals were separated from each other by a short partition that would allow a man in one stall to speak with and look into the eyes of the man in the next stall while circumspectly blocking view of his tinkling penis.

Second, I did not want to set my laptop or anything else down on any available surfaces. That may seem wierd, but no one else would set their stuff down either, so I'm gonna go with that one being normal and the fault of the male species. Even though we females could be dead-certain the bathrooms had been cleaned top-to-bottom, we were still convinced there were man-pee germs looking for opportunity to invade our woman-clean world.

Third, there were no containers of hand lotion on the countertops next to the sinks/faucets. So, do men's hands not dry out? I mean, come on, there are non-perfumed hand lotions out there, lotion is not just for women! Oh, that's right, I forgot! This was a seminar on how women can get further in a man's world! But really, come on, surely there are men who would like to soften their hands after cleansing them. Gerry?

It's funny, I went in thinking, "oh, this is new, I'm not sure about this!" And I came out a survivor!! Turns out, I CAN live in a man's world after all!

Still, next "bio" break, I stood in the longer line to the old and familiar. What can I say, I wanted hand lotion...

Animal Farm...

Now I WOULD bid on one of these. And I would never ever tire of chasing it around the yard :)

click

All Creatures Great and Small

I was just thinking this a.m. that I've had nothing worth blogging about lately. I value my readers' time, so unless I have something of interest to say (see my blog on Golden Showers) something that requires I, first, bring it to the attention of others and, second, help guide their thoughts regarding it, I stay out of the blogarena.

For instance, my street is under construction, has been for 3 years. When it is done, it will be great - I will get to work (5 miles from my house) in 15 minutes instead of 45. In the meantime, I live with the daily sight of construction workers at every intersection along the way. I, of course, being concerned for the welfare of others, always proceed with caution when passing by these hardy icons of working class America. (What do you think they think about all day, just standing there? Do you think they are thinking about Golden Showers? I know, I know, sidetrip! Back on track, now, though)

So, how can I not be a little concerned when I pass one of these intersections of a morning, there are no workers in sight, but there is a hard hat laying in the middle of the road? Yeah, that's what I thought...

That was a few months back, though. Today I got an email that left me strangely distressed, even though it doesn't involve a hat with no construction worker underneath it. Background first - we are in the middle of our giving campaign. My division is hosting a charity function tomorrow at which many items of great interest will be auctioned off. These are always fun; people think the strangest items are worth something to others, and generally at least one other person thinks so too, and bids on it. For instance, we are auctioning off a snowball party. (Odds are that at least half my readers are going, "Cool! How much?")

The email, however, isn't about a snowball party. It isn't about winning the use of a snow-making machine, having a bunch of your friends over in the middle of a hot Seattle summer (July 29th through the 30th, unless summer arrives later than usual), and making hay (or snow, in this case) while the sun shines.

It is about a cow. Yes, a cow. They are auctioning off a cow. Specifically, the cow below:



Does this seem right? That, at work, I am encouraged to give towards charity by purchasing a cow to butcher? EEEEWWWWWWWWWWW!

How can I possibly work now??? My earthsoul is in huge distress!! I need to go home and caress the trees in my yard, or something!! Blech!!!

Or I could go put together the menu for Thanksgiving - did I mention that we are having Prime Rib, Turkey AND Ham?