Pretty Sure

On the subject of the continuing reorganization of my household, when I mentioned this topic to someone a while back, they warned me that trying to get more organized is tantamount to taunting the Universe to start throwing stumbling blocks in your path.

This is, of course, ridiculous.

So how is the reorganization going, you ask?

Temporarily off track, but still in progress.  Out of the blue, lots of things started breaking at once that completely knocked each and every one of us here off our schedule for a while.

But I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.

Ctional, It Should Have Been CTIONAL

You know what’s worse than planning to use a joke to describe how you’re feeling today, then realizing you’ve already made that joke?

Realizing that when you made that joke before, you screwed it up.

The Odds You Want To Beat

I remember the days when I used to look at a picture of a girl posing in a certain way(1) with her boyfriend or the like, then wondering if it was unfair how often my first reaction tended to be “He looks like such a [original word censored and replaced with the milder term “jerk”]!  These days I wonder no longer.

These days I know I’m just playing the odds.

*****

(1)  I can’t really precisely define this poise . . . but it usually includes things like looking a touch over clingy, a smile a little too big or a little to stiff to be natural, and/or a happy looking expression that doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

Because Nobody, Least Of All The Police, Will Be Amused If You Don’t

I kicked around the idea of mentioning of few of my own insecurities today, but that didn’t seem very interesting.  Then, as is frequently the case, an interesting tale dropped itself in my lap.

The bad news is that it’s not my story to tell, but the good news is I can give you the moral of it such that you won’t really need to hear the tale itself:

When arguing with your soon to be ex-spouse over custody rights of your child, whatever you do, set the axe down!  While it’s understandable to have an axe in your hand if you were chopping wood right before the argument started, as soon as it is clear that an argument is about to start, I say again, set . . . THE AXE . . . DOWN!

Insecurities (Part Two)

Now just because that was the first example that came to my mind, that should in no way be taken as me implying that feelings of insecurity are gender linked.

Because they’re not.

All it takes for one of the most obsessively fit guys I know to start feeling insecure is to stand next to someone with greater muscle definition than he has.  Never mind what a shockingly small percentage of the world actually has greater muscle definition than he has, never mind that he has dated models, and is a model himself.  That’s all it takes.

Because insecurities are rarely, if ever, logical.

Insecurities (Part One)

Objectively speaking, it’s funny what people will fixate on to be insecure about, but it’s always a deadly serious matter to the person feeling insecure.

I’ve had some of the most beautiful girls in the world look me dead in the eye and tell me point-blank they just “can’t” be beautiful because of some “flaw” either completely imagined or so insignificant that half the time I can’t see it even when it’s pointed out to me . . . and the half of the time when I do see it, I can never see how it negatively impacts their beauty in the slightest.

But it’s always real to them.

Phoning It In

Unless your child is on the other end of the line, you simply can not parent while on the phone.

I Mean “Darrrrrrn It”

So I woke up this morning in a foul mood.  In a backhanded sense, this was a good thing, because it meant I was in the perfect mood to elaborate on a rather bitter little thought I had last night.

Then I realized today is International Talk Like A Pirate Day.

Well . . . I don’t care.  I’m not getting sidetracked, and this fact is not going to improve my mood or make me feel any less like screaming after the day I had yesterday.  In fact, I’m going to scream right now just to prove that point.

*deep breath*  Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

*blinks*

Damn it.

Truth Can Still Be Funnier Than Fiction

A couple of years ago I laughingly mentioned the type of banner ads Facebook was trying to match to my profile.  I still chuckle about that from time to time, in fact.

But recently Twitter has started to top Facebook on the joke.

It doesn’t happen every time, of course, but it’s happened often enough that I’ve started to notice a pattern on Twitter’s top three suggestions on whom I might like to follow.  When it does happen, the suggestions tend to run something like this:

Actual example #1:  Patrick Stewart @ SirPatStew.  (Okay, I’ve never really said anything about liking any of the many things Patrick Stewart is famous for, but I do, so I understand this.)

Actual example #2:  Seth Green @ SethGreen.  (Ditto.)

Fictional example (I think!):  18+SexyGrrl @ TehSexyPlace.

Wow!  Really?  You know what?  When I signed up for Twitter, I flat out (and naively) did not expect to see something like this there!  I’m not offended, of course, just a little surprised, and even more surprised that this keeps happening.

With all due respect to Sir Patrick Stewart and Seth Green, I hope they stop cluttering up my suggestion list soon.

Things DO Change (Part Two)

For most of my life I struggled with an erratic sleep schedule, meaning, in other words, that getting out of bed at a precise time was always a challenge . . . and one I frequently failed.  Oh, I never missed a shift at work or an appointment or anything like that, but if there was any flexibility in my schedule, no matter how important getting up at a particular time was to me before I went to sleep, it was significantly less important to me by the time the alarm went off.  Insomnia was a frequent result/cause of this.

Then my son was born, and insomnia became a luxury I could no longer afford, and sleep became a precious, precious commodity that was always in short supply.  Now that he’s older, time to sleep is something I have more reliably, but I still can’t afford insomnia because most days require me to not only be awake at a particular time, but alert enough to function at a “watching toddler” level.  Even those days when someone else is getting up with him, I find myself waking up automatically around 6:45 to 7:15 just to make sure I don’t need to get up, then go back to sleep, and if my eyes fly open at 7:35, my first thought is “I overslept!”

So yeah . . . things definitely change.