This blogging thing is really addictive. I’m on the computer way too long as it is, and now I keep finding things I want to add to my blog, or other blogs to read or subscribe to, or far too many other ways to waste my time.
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Never thought I’d see this complete video, since you can’t get it on YouTube, but I found it here.
http://www.funnyhub.com/videos/pages/snl-more-cowbell.html
You know, I always suspected that this sort of thing existed. Now I know for sure.
“Webspeak Killing Us All: One Abbreviation at a Time”
http://blogs.lifetips.com/post/2009/07/Webspeak-Killing-Us-All2c-One-Abbreviation-at-a-Time.aspx
Very scary.
I’ve often heard people jokingly remark about how they know someone whose house is so clean that surely, they must have obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). And that may, in fact, be true. But it certainly isn’t how my OCD manifests itself–though sometimes I wish that it was. Maybe . . . <grin>
Instead, as I think I’ve just figured out this morning, it’s an irrational avoidance of making telephone calls. Calls to pay bills, calls to the lawyer, to Social Security, to file complaints–the list goes on and on. Even when making the calls would be directly beneficial to me, as they usually are.
However, I cannot seem to get past this weird call-avoidance issue. Usually, once I figure out that something I do or think is somehow caused by my OCD, I manage to work out some sort of solution, or, almost magically, the mental path I’ve been taking re-routes itself and sometimes I don’t ever think of it again. Thank God for good medication, I would never have been able to do that before!
If you, or someone you know suffers from OCD, here’s a website you may be interested in: http://www.ocfoundation.org/what-is-ocd.html
I wonder, sometimes, if I can make my OCD work for me, but I haven’t figured that part out yet. I figure that I’ve come a long way in keeping it from working against me, at least some of the time.
I nabbed this yesterday at Paws and Claws when I was in for the volunteer/membership meeting. A Minister, A Priest, and A Rabbi by Albert Tapper and Peter Press (Andrews McMeel Publishing, 2000. ISBN 0-7407-0503-2). This is my favorite joke so far:
Three men were standing in line to get into heaven one day. Apparently it had been a pretty busy day, so St. Peter had to tell the first one, “Heaven’s getting pretty close to full today, and I’ve been asked to admit only people who have had particularly horrible deaths. So, what’s your story?” The first man replied, “Well, for a while I’ve suspected my wife has been cheating on me, so today I cam home early to try to catch her red-handed. As I came into my twenty-fifth floor apartment, I could tell something was wrong, but all my searching around didn’t reveal where this other guy could have been hiding. Finally, I went out to the balcony and, sure enough, there was this man hanging off the railing, twenty-five floors above ground! I was really mad, so I started beating on him and kicking him, but wouldn’t you know it, he wouldn’t fall off. So finally I went back into my apartment and got a hammer and started hammering on his fingers. Of course, he couldn’t stand that for long, so he let go and fell–but even after twenty-five stories, he fell into the bushes, stunned, but okey. I couldn’t stand it anymore so I ran into the kitchen, gabbed the fridge, and threw it over the edge, where it landed on him, killing him instantly. But all the stress and anger got to me and I had a heart attack and died, there on the balcony.” “That sounds like a pretty bad day to me,” said St. Peter, and he let the man in. The second man came up and St. Peter explained to him about heaven being full. Again he asked the man for his story. “It’s been a very strange day. You see, I live on the twenty-sixth floor of my apartment building, and every morning I do my exercises out on my balcony. Well, this morning I must have slipped or something, because I fell over the edge. But I got lucky and caught the railing of the balcony on the floor below me. I knew I couldn’t hold on for very long. Suddenly this man burst out onto the balcony. I thought for sure I was saved, but all of a sudden he started beating on me and kicking me. I held on the best I could until he ran into the apartment and grabbed a hammer and started pounding on my hands. Finally, I just let go, but again, I got lucky and fell into the bushes below, stunned but all right. Just when I was thinking I was going to be okay, this refrigerator came falling out of the aky and crushed me instantly, and now I’m here.” Once again, St. Peter had to concede that that sounded like a pretty horrible death. The third man came to the front of the line. Again St. Peter explained that heaven was full and asked for his story. “Picture this,” said the third man, “I’m hiding naked inside a refrigerator . . . ”
. . . because I have no computer right now. It’s out being fixed, so I’m here at the public library. Frankly, I’m surprised that you can even get here, there are so many restricted sites!
So, if I get my computer back later today, I may have a longer post, but this is it for now.
I’ve been working on some embroidery for the upcoming party at our parish. And believe me, mine looks NOTHING like this example from the Purépecha people of Michoacán! When I told one of the women I’d be happy to embroider her blouse, she was so excited, but somehow, we didn’t manage to connect on what was the traditional style of the region where she’s from. So I’m just doing flowers, and I showed her, and she LOVES it. And now, of course, is when I find examples on the internet. So much for that!
This just dropped from nowhere this morning:
Why do I do the things that I hate
And hate the things that I do?
Why do I bother to promise myself
That to Jesus I’ll always be true?
When it’s obvious from all my actions
Or lack of, or even my thoughts
That the person I care about pleasing
Is myself–what a terrible thought!
I pray to the Savior to save me
From temptation, and even myself;
But it’s clear that I really don’t mean it
For my purity sits on a shelf
Like a thing that I greatly admire
But cannot in essence be mine.
I repeat to myself that I want it
And whisper to Jesus Divine,
“Oh my Savior, I beg You to help me,
I find myself falling so fast.
You’re the only one Who can now save me.
I’m begging, I’m pleading, I ask–
But You won’t take away my desires.
In fact, they are getting much worse.
I know that You hope I’ll be better
And with You I can vanquish this curse.
So even though, Jesus, I’ve faltered,
I’m coming back to You once more.
I ask You to cleanse me completely
And toss all my sins out the door.
I know by myself I can’t manage,
So please grasp my trembling hand,
And together my faults we will conquer,
‘Til before You victorious I stand!
The first two lines had been rumbling around my head for years. But this is the first time anything ever came of them. I realize it’s a little trite, but still, it really seemed to drop out of the sky.
This is always a tough day to write, since I really have to get a move on and get ready for church.
What I really need to do is practice more. I love to play, but I’m not much for practicing.
I’m joining National Blog Posting Month beginning today. I’ll see how it goes.
I do write every day in my paper journal, and I’m not used to being on the Internet every day, so I hope I’m able to do this. However, I also have no intention of allowing my deepest thoughts to be out here in front of everyone. Again, I’ll see how it goes.
1906 Smedley Maid Illustration
Well, it’s another day in paradise. At least the kind of paradise that I am accustomed to.
Just took a load of laundry out of the dryer, so that’s done. I’ve been scouting around on the internet this morning, and I think it’s time to get a move on with more domesticity.
I can only hope that someday my life will be a little more like the picture to the left. Me reading a book, while my delightful French maid Giselle takes care of the daily grind.
After the Ecstasy, the Laundry . . . 