Thinking I Should Not Think

We went to a birthday party for my friend's three-year-old son on Sunday. I have been friends with his mom since we were in the second grade.

All the children were romping around and my friend came over to me, smiling.

"Say, how's your mom doing?" I asked.

Her face suddenly changed. "She died in February" was her response.

I apologized profusely, as did she. She couldn't believe she hadn't mentioned it before and we realized we mustn't have been keeping in good contact over the last few months. I had spent a lot of time with my friend and her mom was always sweet. I couldn't believe I had unintentionally reminded my friend of her mother's death and I felt like crap.

It got me thinking about mortality, as death usually does. It's funny how we spend most of our time not thinking of something that will happen to us. It's almost a programed delusion. It's hard for a brain to imagine just stopping. Sometimes I wonder as I'm falling asleep if that's what it's like--just shutting down and not coming on again. That wouldn't be so bad, but your brain refuses to realize it's own demise. I understand why the idea of an afterlife seems so comforting. I also understand that the seemingly-omnipotent brain came up with the idea.

It really bothered me to hear about my friend's mom's death. I talk to my mom almost every day and I consider her to be my best friend. The thought of her death scares the hell out of me. I'm sure I'll go back to comforting oblivion, but for one simple Sunday I couldn't shake my fear.

It reminds me of a quote that I wrote down a few years ago:

"I used to think that my brain was the most wonderful organ in my body. Then I realized who was telling me this." --Emo Phillips

Anger Affects Aim

Wow, I had no idea that it's been so long since my last post. I guess time gets away from you more in summer. There's more to do and I have less interest in sitting in front of a computer.

But here I am. I wish I could say that it isn't related to the rush of adrenaline I had earlier. I felt like I could run around the block about 60 times and still be flying. It was the fight or flight instinct and I fought. It's amazing what a little rage will do to you. The one person I had hoped I would never see again in my life showed up at my doorstep tonight. Let's just say that I threw a fit and then I threw a potted mum...first at her (however, anger affects aim) then at her truck.

But enough about my emotional breakdown. I have been thinking of some productive musings I would post on here when I finally got around to it. So, here's some of them. (I would certainly hope I would have had more productive thoughts in two months than this short list.)

1. Red Bull doesn't give me wings. That's right, kids. I tried it, but I didn't like it. It tastes like antifreeze (or what I believe antifreeze would taste like) and it didn't give me extra energy. That's pretty funny, too, because fountain soda makes me act like a six-year-old at Chuck E. Cheese's. Go figure.

2. My brain is an asshole. My brain has been choosing to turn on me in the middle of the night. For instance, the other night I woke up believing I was seeing someone coming towards me. Although I have had this kind of nightmare before, my brain finds it funny convincing me that THIS TIME IT'S FOR REAL AND YOU'RE BEING ATTACKED! and that I need to scream and kick to protect myself and my family. I argue with my brain for what seems like minutes but must be nanoseconds and my brain wins...I scream loudly and kick into the air, scaring everyone within a two-mile radius of my house. My brain laughs wildly. I vow not to use my brain anymore.

3. A mother's love stretches across species. The aforementioned mum-throwing incident aside, I believe a mother's love is unlike any other. So it was my sad experience to see a mother duck and her small, helpless chicks stuck in a closed lane on the turnpike...no doubt in impending doom. She looked frantic and I wished I could have helped her. I have no idea how they got into the situation, but I like to think she got out of it okay. Nature has a funny way of breaking things.

4. A lack of therapy left me flat on my back. My therapist picked the worst time to change his workplace. It left me without a professional voice for a few months. I guess there's no good time to lose your therapist, though. They kind of have that sort of thing on lock down.

5. Planning a murder is easy. Knowing what to do to afterward is the difficult part. Or so I've learned from my favorite new show, Snapped. It's basically about women who--get this!--snap and kill a loved one, usually a husband for insurance money or a cheating boyfriend. It's on Oxygen, which I believe is supposed to be television for women, but I'm not sure that's the healthiest thing for a female to watch. (See #2.) I blame TiVo because somehow it thought I'd like a show about murderous women. And damn, it was right! Dan is freaked out. He's convinced I'm researching.

6. I can no longer diss the unruly women that freak out on reality tv. After tonight, I make shoe throwing look kind of tame. Maybe I should put my rage to good use and apply to be on Flavor of Love.

I Love Lamp

I got the idea to write an "I Love" post from ClearlyKels on her blog, Clearly Ridiculous. It's nice to read what someone loves instead of what someone hates. I seem to complain on here a lot, even though I don't think I do much of that in real life. I guess it's just easier on your blog.

I am reminded of the movie Anchorman when Steve Carell's character, Brick, starts talking about things he loves:

Brick Tamland: I love... carpet.
[pause]
Brick Tamland: I love... desk.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, are you just looking at things in the office and saying that you love them?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp.
Ron Burgundy: Do you really love the lamp, or are you just saying it because you saw it?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp. I love lamp.


Okay...now my love post:

I love moments that make you wonder if that moment is what life is all about. I love daisies, especially the ones that sprout up in clumps alongside busy roads. I love folded cloth napkins. I love the smell of pizza. I love Spring and watching flowers, trees, and bushes come alive with color after the bland winter. I love sleeping with the window above my bed open. I love the way Katie shrugs as she laughs. I love stargazing. I love being barefoot, especially outside in the summer. I love pistachios. I love walking during a lazy snow storm and feeling the big, fat flakes falling on my face. I love to sleep late on the weekends.

I love rubbing my feet on the floor when I take my shoes off after a long day. I love the smell of clean sheets. I love lying alongside Dan and feeling like we're the only ones who have ever been this much in love. I love being a stay-at-home mother. I love farms and open fields. I love imagining what it was like living in another place and time. I love listening to music. I love candlelight. I love talking to my mom on the phone. I love how Katelyn's face lights up when she sees me first thing in the morning. I love Christmas and all the wonderful memories that come to mind when I think of it. I love spending time with my brother and his family. I love historical sites, especially homes and landmarks. I love visiting Civil War battlefields.

I love to sing, although I wouldn't sing in in public (as a service to everyone). I love Christmas shopping, especially with my dad. I love when I could eat a meal from one plate and nothing touches. I love Katie's laugh. I love the feeling of being in New York City. I love the smell of rain right before it falls. I love the poem "O! Captain! My Captain!" I love the sound of crickets. I love hugs. I love the feel of Dan's hair right after he gets it cut. I love taking pictures. I love lightning bugs.

I love writing and knowing that people are reading my words.