gimme' some of dat grey goo...

Some things I learned (and some relearned) about that unattractive grey gob of matter stuck in our skulls:

the human brain has about 20 billion neurons (I have also read between 10 - 100 billion) - in any case, A LOT

each neuron has 10,000 connections

one-third of our neuronal connections are a direct result of our inherited genetic code and are present in utero

during the first year of life about 100,000 neurons are being developed every second

by adulthood, the brain has only half the neurons it did during grade school...with the highest rate of synaptic death occurring in adolescence (ha, that makes sense, doesn't it?!)

experience shapes the genetic structure of the brain and corrective experiences (good therapy, etc.) can also reshape the structure of the brain (experience causes neuronal firing which, in turn, creates synaptic growth)

one of the greatest predictors of disorganization of the medial prefrontal cortex area (controls everything from body regulation to sense of morality) is having parents who have unresolved trauma or grief...in other words, know thyself and honestly deal with your crap.*

*If you want more info on the researcher this info came from, you can go here.

my internal clock...

The news on my internal clock is that I DON'T HAVE ONE. I got up 30 minutes earlier today and I was 15 minutes later than I was yesterday. And, I didn't do anything differently. Did I pass out in the shower? Did I enter a fugue state while brushing my teeth? I just don't understand it, and quite frankly, I have stopped trying to understand it. My husband can guess the time within 5 minutes and he never wears a watch. I religiously wear a watch and I am late every single day and never have any idea what time it is or what the date is. The closest I can get is: "It's Wednesday and it's morning, but not lunchtime yet."

So, I had more nightmares last night and my right jaw joint is clunking like an old transmission, which means I gritted my teeth a lot while sleeping. It didn't help that group intervention class was incredibly intense last night. I think everyone left a little rattled.

On a more positive note, I'm really looking forward to going to SAFF later this month. Some of us in the Feltmaker's Network who live in the Southeast will be meeting for to start a smaller guild, which would be awesome. Chad Alice Hagen, an incredibly talented textile artist, seems to be the emerging ring leader. Anyway, it's always fun to go play in Asheville and even more fun to go wallow in wool and fuzzy animals. I can't take the classes I'd like because we are so damn broke, but I am going to take a silk fusion and nuno felting class. Last year nuno filled up and I couldn't get in. Bleh! I'll be taking Ma along with me so it will be good mother-daughter time, too.

Most interesting Google search for my page in the last few days: "Barium enemas on 70 year-olds". Ouch.

dear dogs and cats...

When I say to move, it means to go someplace else, not switch positions with each other so there are still two of you in the way.

The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help, because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king size bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue to sleep on the couch to ensure your comfort. Look at videos of dogs and cats sleeping, they can actually curl up in a ball! It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space used is nothing but sarcasm.

My compact discs are not miniature Frisbees.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, try to turn the knob, or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. When I exit this room, I will come out the the same door I entered. In addition, I have been using bathrooms for years. Canine attendance has never been necessary.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog's butt. I cannot stress this enough. It would be such a simple change for you.

In return for your following these simple rules, I have posted the following message on our front door:

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets:

1. They live here. You don't.
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture.
3. I like my pet a lot better than I like most people.
4. To you, it's an animal. To me, he/she is an adopted son/daughter who is short, hairy, walks on all fours and doesn't speak clearly.
5. Dogs and cats are better than kids. They eat less, don't ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don't hang out with drug-using friends, don't smoke or drink, don't worry about buying the latest fashions, don't wear your clothes, don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and if they get pregnant, you can sell the results.

Thanks to my friend, Sharon, who sent me this via email today. I knew I liked you for some reason.

sigh...

I always try to keep up with the NIADA artists to see who's been accepted, etc. Forest Rogers is one of the newer ones I am admiring. She works mostly in clay. Delicious, delicious eye candy.

me versus me...

And I'm winning! Huh-huh. I've noticed that on every day that I say I don't feel like "blogging" that I immediately proceed to peck out 100 breathy posts on nothing but mindless, but slightly entertaining, drivel. I'm especially good at producing said drivel when I have a paper to write and about 500 pages of textbook reading to do. Hmmmph. Double-hmmmmph.

Last night's procrastination session included rainbow-dyeing some merino wool. I had to remove my wool drying (long since) on sweater racks in the downstairs shower because I was informed by my husband that the bathroom smelled like a skunk. I had to vacate the premises of wooly materials before it got to fisticuffs. So, of course I had to play with some of the wool after bagging it all up.

I guess if I've resorted to talking about stinky wool then I've hit the bottom of the barrel in procrastination blogging. Off to the books I go. *sigh*

it doesn't feel cathartic...

Saturday I was unusually happy. Sunday I had the blahs. Today I have the putrid blahs a la noir. Now what the hell happened on Saturday? I need to find out and repeat the behavior.

The above was in my fortune cookie today. What made me go out and get Chinese food I'll never know. I never do that. I don't want any freakin' unusual gifts. Unusual could be unusually bad or unusually good. This could be the half-empty glass test--oops. I guess I should have said the "half-full glass test" or denoted them both. Damn negativity...oops...

I hope I won't be such a damn wet blanket tomorrow. Someone needs to put me in the dryer and fluff me up.

Ok, I had to add this. Thanks to Driving with Dawn. Probably a bad day to take the test, but it looks pretty accurate to me. I should take it on a Thursday---I'm always bitchy on Mondays because of work (a la severe burn-out).

The Big Five Personality Test

Extroverted	||||||||||	32%
Introverted	||||||||||||||||	68%
Friendly	||||||||||||||||||||	84%
Aggressive	||||	16%
Orderly	||||||||||	32%
Disorderly	||||||||||||||||	68%
Relaxed	||||||||||||||	52%
Emotional	||||||||||||	48%
Intellectual	||||||||||||||||||||	84%
Practical	||||	16%

Take Free Big 5 Personality Test

wheave me a-whone...

I can't believe I was blogless for two whole days, and I still don't really feel like blogging. It could be the grand piano teetering on my shoulders. The worries of being worried about money, being behind in school after dedicating so much time to the art show, the worries of feeling unmotivated at work and at school because I am so worried about so many worrysome things. It's breaking me out, making me eat lots of sugar and causing me to stare a lot at blank walls. The gloom introduced by last night's nightmare in which my mother died of a stroke while we were shopping together didn't help. This could be less than healthy.

One goody gumdrop this morning was the link found at Ultramicroscopic: Jay Long. Delicious artwork always makes me feel better. And I have a real thing for art that incorporates the use of words. Several of my new designs for figures have words incorporated into them. If I ever get to them, they should be good.

Looks like it's going to be Monday ALL DAY, but I'm sure I'll plod on through...

why is it...

that every time I take a few days off from work the only thing I discover when I get back is that I wish I had stayed away even longer?

Then again, I'm just glad to have a job right now.

Shame on me. *whirrrrrrrrrr--crack!* Back to work. Ow.

the "AC" syndrome...

My dad says when it's his time he wants to go via the "AC" syndrome. Now, my dad has a bleak sense of humor to say the least. The AC belongs between the M and the K. When he turns around to face his end that's all he wants to see. Now all he has to do is make sure he's standing in the middle of a highway.

Speaking of the big Mack smack, our financial situation has reached heights of horror. If you think it can't happen to you, think again. Being jobless for long periods of time after making good money (and making big bills) can wreck you quickly. We weren't even really big spenders. The weight of this worry is incredible and all-consuming. Save your money and cut up the plastic. Do it tonight.

why, oh WHY?

I've been meaning to leave this comment for some time. Why are the quiz-makers, such as they are, at Quizilla such incredibly bad spellers? If you have the quiz gene, can you not have the spelling-simple-words-that-a-fifth-grader-can-spell gene? Maybe they have to go in the same slot in the pretty little DNA strand. It just ruins the fun-but-faux-validity of the quizzes, you know? And, apparently, I have the must-use-hyphens-until-readers-become-annoyed gene. Good grief. I'm going to bed.

revenge of the evil felines...

Remember the boastful post I submitted a couple of days ago; how I "saved" the bed from a big Baxter-puke? Well, apparently, Baxter read the blog because not only did I clean up three pukes on the stairs when I got home from work, but I found THIS on the bed. How about that for dead-aim? Will I ever, ever learn?

no shit...

Did it take a researcher for people to realize this? We may be at the top of the food chain, but we are, by far, the biggest jerks. Study: Roaming Animals Not Good in Zoos.

what a save!

I just heard the tell-tale "yech, yech, yech" of Baxter, our Amazing Puking Cat, so I ran as quickly as possible from the computer room to the bedroom and there he was, squarely planted in the middle of the bed, tongue drooping in its pre-vomitous state. Swoop! I spirited him from the bed to the floor and where he promptly finished the deed. A little toilet paper, a musical low-water-flow flush and the evil pile of regurgitation was whisked away as if it had never happened. Cats: 5,459 Me: 1

bad western night...

What are the chances that both my husband and I would have western-inspired dreams on the same night? I had a dream I bought the "new John Wayne CD." It was similar to Johnny Cash's last gig--and it was pretty good. It was actually a reel-to-reel type of recording and my shirt kept getting drawn up into the mechanism.

But my husband's dream was much more entertaining than mine.

Hubby dreamed that he was in a giant paneled hotel room and he was dressed up in dirty old western gunslinger garb complete with the big hat and giant handlebar moustache. There were dispensing containers all along the wall like the ones you see at buffets that hold iced tea, except these were filled with liquor. Also in the room were all the old western legends like Jesse James. Apparently there was a one drink limit because some guy got two servings and my husband must have been the sheriff because he said this now classic line in our household:

"I reckon' I'll have to arrest him for that OH-ffense."

And Jesse James stood up and yelled "Like hell you will!" and threw his glass against the wall.

Hubby said he woke up laughing.

On another note, making a pass through the blogs, I read a bit about being uninsured in America at Long Pauses. Having worked in healthcare communications for about 13 years now I guess I've been especially tuned-in to this issue. I am becoming acutely aware of it now that I am making more friends in the independent artist arena. For instance, the woman who was set up next to me at the TACA fair in Nashville had no benefits. She is an amazingly talented clay artist. She used to have benefits when she was a retail manager for many years, but when she went full-time as an artist (which is plainly what she should be doing given her talent) she gave up her access to affordable healthcare. If you've ever looked at getting insurance on an individual basis, you would see that it's plainly unaffordable.

There are many people out there who need to be doing what they are MEANT to do, but can't afford their dream because of THE COST OF BEING INSURED. Our culture suffers as a result. People suffer as a result.

The other group that really suffers is the group of folks who have retired but who are not yet eligible for Medicare benefits. Those benefits do not kick in until age 65. Even then most people need a supplemental insurance to be able to get the healthcare they need. For those that fall into the gap, they are screwed. At a time when they are likely to be sicker, they have less accessibility to affordable healthcare. I have a friend who is in her late 50's whose job was basically eliminated. Her husband is an established illustrator, but they have no insurance since she lost access to group insurance through her company. So there they are, hoping to stay healthy until they can be considered eligible for Medicare. These are UPPER middle-class folks, and THEY can't afford individual healthcare insurance. And really, who can afford $600 a month to just be minimally COVERED?

I could write a dissertation on this subject and it would be full of examples of real-life people not getting the care they needed solely because of insurance. I'll just stop there.

Peanut

I called my dad late last night to get the news on his little sick cat and, believe it or not, she's feeling better. I was sure that he was going to tell me he had to put her to sleep while I was out of town. She's still very ill and will probably won't live very long, but she has perked up, has begun sleeping well and is trying to play a little. She doesn't seem to be suffering, but is depressed from losing her sense of equilibrium--a key skill for a nimble little kitty. So, other than being on the verge of bankruptcy, everything is going better than expected the last few days for me. Feelin' pretty good today. :-) Have a great one--and again, thanks for all the encouraging and supportive words.

happy mush-brain

Well, the show went better than expected! I was hoping to break even with all the expenses, but did a lot better. So, for my first big show, I was really pleased. After being so uptight and nervous for weeks over this I am just a blob of mental goo. I took the day off from the corporate job to recover because I knew I would be stupid as mud today---I was right. We got in from Nashville about midnight I guess. The weather was great and I was really honored to be in this show because I was keeping company with some really amazing artists. I lusted after everyone else's work.

I did get to stop by the Twisted Sisters booth, but they were always with a customer or I didn't see them. :-( Sorry, Paige. I felt really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really bad about not getting to say hi. I went over there a couple of times and then the next time I thought of it was break-down time on Sunday. I did get to look at their stuff--I loved it! Such creativity!

I was so nervous all weekend that I know I came across as a complete ditz. I panicked almost every time someone gave me money. Hubby and I laughed about it, but it was bad. We looked like Laurel and Hardy trying to wrap things up, write receipts and hand over the goods. I will have to get better on the business end of things!

The hats and dolls were a big hit, with the hats being the biggest seller, but the scarves did so-so. I have some more ideas I want to do with the silks anyway. I just think they weren't unique enough--and there were a lot of marblers and shibori-type stuff there, so there was a lot of competition.

I learned a lot and the other artists were incredibly friendly and helpful. It was kind of a weird experience, but really wonderful.

On the negative side, there were a couple of people who handled the hats roughly or rolled their eyes at prices or slunk off talking about how they "could do that." I would have loved to say, "Go ahead, see how much WORK it is to get your stuff out there." I think that's typical though. There weren't too many rude people and in general, everyone had a good bit of manners about them. I think some folks just don't have any social skills.

One thing I noticed at this show is that EVERYONE brought their dogs. I know some exhibitors probably hate that, but I loved it. It was a constant parade of sweet, wonderful dogs with doting owners. It really added a wonderful atmosphere to the fair. We even got to meet a Wolfhound, who was unbelieveably large. His head probably came up to my lower chest and I'm 5'7".

I'll get the pics up soon. I was such a nervous goober, I didn't take a lot (actually hubby took them). Thanks for all the encouraging comments. They really meant a lot!

off we go...

I'm "all ready" (notice I put it in quotation marks) to go to the Nashville show. I'm in booth 683 I think, not 163...hell, who cares. I'm so tired I could croak before tomorrow morning anyway. I don't have a Peanut update. I've decided to check with Dad tomorrow. I dread it.

Anyway, I am quite insane with fatique and now that I've figured that I'm making -$1.95 an hour doing all this, I wonder if I should have been just a normal Garanimals type of kid.

Slurp. Reports forthcoming on the TACA adventure! Unless they have internet in the hotel room, the blog will be quiet until Monday. Have a great weekend!

escape from Idiot World...

Calgon, take me away. Actually, I'd take a sledgehammer to the head at this point...

I still have a cold, but it's better. I'm not any less cranky today, though. I manage an online Q&A on our intranet and I have to constantly defend its existence to management. I just got off the phone with a dingleberry who is constantly trying to get it torn off the intranet because he doesn't like the anonymity of the forum. You can't micromanage everyone everywhere. Sorry, buddy. I will be here for one more year and then I'm takin' a hike--a long one. I hate it when people are constantly squished into little cookie-cutter forms. Dilbert is a little too true to life.

I had a weird dream last night where an Amtrak train, which was actually a bus, damaged my car as it was rounding a curve in the oncoming lane. I was pissed and my friends and I embarked on this long journey to find the corporate office of Amtrak and demand money for repairs. We had to travel through this underground waterway that, surprise, housed an intermediary company designed to head off PR disasters such as the one I threatened to cause. They offered us all $1,000 checks to shut up and I said "no way." We continued our journey in some sort of weird helicopter thing and was under fire from the the corporate office crony helicopters the whole way. There were dead dogs in the back of the helicopter from where the corporate guys had used them as PR mascots and had discarded them after they were through. They all had rigor mortis. I think I woke up before I got to the main offices, but I always like it when I have a dream where I'm determined to not give into CRAP (Corporate-types Ruining Authentic People). And yes, I just made that up. Pretty good, huh? Yeah, whatever.

I'm sure I'll find something else to bitch about before the day is over. Clog up my sinuses and see me turn into an instant monster.

it's foggy out there...

No, wait it's my head that's foggy. This head cold is making me stupid. Really.

Sometimes I open my blog and I look at it. I don't do anything with it--I just look at it and ponder the whole concept of narcissism. It's a self-portrait you know--of sorts. Sometimes it's ugly or sad, or funny, or goofy, or happy. It's just like me--a mixed up bag of goofball-ishness.

Sometimes I open my blog and I look at it for a different reason--to procrastinate. Sometimes I blog to avoid, to suppress, to distract, to disguise my fingers with work-like motion or to think when I don't feel like thinking.

But I can only think foggy things today. And it's making me stupid.

p.s. I called my dad to check on Peanut. Her condition has not changed. She is still hunkered down in her little house, purring and refusing food and water, except for the smallest amounts.

Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go cough until my lungs are violently expelled through my nostrils.

eek...

I am pro-choice, but I'm not sure what to think about this. There's lots of information missing in this story, but it causes me great concern.

California Teen Dies After Taking Abortion Pill

It's worth noting that the information was put out by the Family Research Council, but that doesn't mean it's bad information. Like I said, I think there's lots of MISSING medical information in the story that I would like to know about.

So much for "not much blogging" today or tomorrow. I must be officially addicted to e-chatting with myself.