Side Effects

Hazy thoughts
Dizziness
Dancing to Sinatra ballads with orange and blue plaid elephants
Tiredness
Excess saliva
Weird thoughts
Paranoia
Visual sparkles
Suddenly fluency in dead languages (Sanskrit mostly)
Dreams of flying
Walking with a tilt
Thinking I’m walking with a tilt when really I’m upright and the world has tilted
Understanding Dostoevsky’s work
Spontaneous giggles
Itchies
Refuting Nietzsche, adamantly, while wearing clothing upside down and backwards
Crossed eyes
Hair dysfunction
Voices telling me to buy more spray cheese
Sore toe
Sudden infatuation with sprinkler heads
Driving in a zig zaggy manner
Attempts to capture the many bats flying around the office (but not in that “Fear and Loathing kind of way)
Craving limes
Ability to converse with refrigerator
Ability to burp in three part harmony
Thirsty

——-

These are but a few of the side effects experienced that were not printed on the back of the Robitussin Bottle. Maximum strength.

Buyer beware.***

***Yes, I managed to get sick again. That’s twice in two months. I’m mostly over it but can’t stop coughing. I’ve decided that Robitussin is evil and shouldn’t be sold over the counter.

I have to stop riding the pink dragon. It’s altering my mind.

In a conversation with The Good Man, I ticked off the list of things to watch out for (as in, a bad reaction to the ‘Tussin). Aberrant behavior, moodiness, blackouts, etc. He replied, “How would I tell any of this apart from your everyday life?”

That is not a good sign.

Relax. Yes, Just Do It.

Relax is one of those words where saying it to yourself invokes certain visual images.

Relax.

How many of you envisioned beaches and rum drinks?

I know I did.

Relax.

Maybe you thought of yoga or a massage.

Also good.

Relax.

Ok, so how many of you thought about simply about being at home, with no work or chores or responsibilities. Just sitting, being quiet.

For me, definitely.

And how many of you, when thinking of sitting still with nothing to do get a feeling akin to petting the cat the wrong way? Just can’t do it. No way no how.

Interesting, isn’t it? For many people, sitting quietly at home with nothing to do is considered both lazy and immoral.

Personally, I’ve always been really good at allowing myself to relax. If I need a nap, I take it. I give myself permission to have downtime.

I don’t think sleeping when your body needs it and planning for downtime is either lazy or selfish. It’s sane and reasonable.

The Good Man often says that I taught him the value of The Flop. Come home from work, change into comfy, non-binding clothes, then flop on the bed. Just for a while. Twenty minutes maybe? Let the day slow down. Hug both cat and spouse.

And THEN you are in such a better mood to get up and make dinner. Food tastes better when you are happy and relaxed while you cook.

Really, children and cats have it right. Eat a little. Play a little. Nap a little.

It’s when we get to be grownups that our minds get twisted by the shoulda, woulda, couldas.

Today, I reject all of them and say, simply, relax.

Embrace The Flop.

(This post is a good reminder to myself as much as anyone. Sometimes even I get caught up in the moving too fast, gotta get it done, go go go mentality).

Theme Thursday‘s theme of the week is: Relax

Photo by Joseph Hoban and provided royalty free via stock.xchng

Word Association

Ok, back in the day shrinks used to use word association to tell something about their patients.

Yeah, no idea if that really works.

Anyhow, just for fun, let’s see where this takes me.

We’ll start with a random word generator.

And the word is: Lost

Not going to think too much, just going to let this flow.

Let’s see…

Lost

Map

Driving

Back roads

San Francisco

Roads not straight

Crooked

Broken

Snapped

Why in the *&#% hell did you *&@#! make a right turn back there when you @#$% know that we wanted to go THAT way!!

Ahem. Yes.

No, that doesn’t imply anything about me or my relationship with The Good Man. Why do you ask?

Oh, this is all hogwash this word association thing.

Ok, fine. Let’s try again.

The word is: Liquid

Liquid

Moist

Wet

Damp

Why the !@#$ing hell is the cat wet? Did you leave the shower door open again? Or was she drinking out of the toilet? I HATE it when she drinks out of the toilet!

Hmm.

Ok, one more.

The word is: Corn

Which just makes me think: I am Cornholio! I need TP for my bunghole!

Yeah. There you go. Sophisticated psychoanalysis technique to Beavis and Butthead in three easy steps.

Welcome to the inner workings of my mind.

Never Underestimate

Here in my home, I have this cat that I managed to acquire by marriage, and is now part of my family. I’d had cats before so I knew what to expect going in.

But this cat is something different. Something special. Something about half a bubble off plumb.

Despite rightly being called a “special needs” cat, owing to suffering an especially high fever during her kittenhood, sometimes the wisdom of this not-always-so-smart pet just blows me away.

This cat has no patience for anyone. She wants to sit on your lap, but you’re not allowed to actually touch her. Give her a skritching and you’ll face the grip of her steely jaws.

Food must be delivered on time, or preferably early, or a string of thuggish behavior will ensue that begins with knocking things over and culminates in all out attacks on appendages.

She likes to fight before settling down for sleep at night, often leaving The Good Man with red marks on his arms.

She’s rasty, moody and rather obsessive compulsive.

And, may I mention again, she has no patience for anyone. Or really…anyone who lives in the same house with her.

Guests? Oh, guests are great. She mews coquettishly and rubs legs and climbs up in laps and accepts chin scratches with chirrups and purrs and loving eyes.

In short, the cat is a tart. She’ll give it away to anyone who visits, but for the folks at home…nothing. But here’s where my heart grows soft. This silly, rasty, bitey cat is especially kind to kids.

Yesterday evening, a dear friend brought her eighteen-month-old daughter over to my place to watch Game 2 of the World Series. Her husband is on business travel and she wanted company.

Many cats I know will run hide under the bed when a toddler enters the room.

Not this cat. She adores children. The moment that toddler’s toes hit the ground, we heard “kitty!” and it was off to the races.

The toddler pulled The Feline’s tail, poked her ears and repeatedly hugged the kitty rather roughly. Did the cat run, bite or get nasty?

Nope. She went right back in for more, letting the child maul her while she head butted and purred.

Later, the cat was asleep up on top of her favorite perch, a stack of blankets on an old steamer truck. The toddler noticed the cat again, as though she’d never seen her before, squealed “kitty!” and went racing over.

I kept a close eye on things as I feared The Feline’s patience was running thin. Toddler got a hold of tail and pulled hard. “No, no,” I said, “We don’t pull the kitty’s tail.” The toddler looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but let go.

At that moment, The Feline extended her paw out and I thought, “uh oh.”

Then my rasty, tacky, bitey cat laid her paw (claws very much retracted) very gently on the baby’s forehead. It was sort of like a “that’s ok kid, you can pull my tail. We’re all good.”

And the baby giggled.

It was one of the most gentle and sweet gestures I’ve ever seen between two beings. They found a simpatico.

Again I’m amazed at the…well, I’d use the word humanity, but that wouldn’t apply to a cat…the felinity?…that this little animal displayed.

I’m not much of an animal rights activist type person, but I will say this…never underestimate the soul of an animal. There is personality and spirit that is much to be respected.

Even a wacky, not quite right, bites my toes when I sleep kind of animal like mine.

Taken with my iPhone 4 using the Hipstamatic iPhone app

New Mexico – In the World Series!

As if I needed more to cheer about when my San Francisco Giants take the field tonight vs the Texas Rangers:

Ya’ll know Cody Ross, the NLCS MVP winner, hot hitter, Ross the Boss, solid outfielder picked up on wavers when Florida dumped salary. Solid, right?

Guess what?

He’s a New Mexico boy. Born in Portales. Raised in Carlsbad.

Saaaaaluuuuute!

Here’s a great article from the Carlsbad Current Argus

Cheers to The Good Man for the tip off on this bit of knowledge!