Something New

I think I've finally attained the state of life that I've been seeking for years: dull and boring. I'm content to let other people experience excitement, drama, and adventure. Even so, there's a bit of backwash from other people's lives into mine...dead birds, loose dogs, stupid teens, and psychotic employers.

One of the things I've worked at for years is my penchant for being dramatic. I've worked at damping it down, that is. Still, it's as automatic as breathing for me, and so, difficult to monitor. With practice I've gotten better at muffling it; enough so to almost pass as a normie.

Years of attending AA meetings and some counseling on occasion have shown me that creating drama is an activity motivated by fear. Drama is a desire to attract attention; attracting attention is a way to deal with feeling insecure; 'insecurity' is just a longer name for fear. Fear is sneaky about how it manifests itself in one's life, but most often it is an activity with negative connotations. Promiscuity, hypochondria, and addictions are some of the common manifestations of fear.

Yes, we need to be somewhat fearful. I'm not willing to give up my freedom and my life to the first brigand that comes along. I do want to live with less fear in my life. I want to take fewer actions motivated by fear. Often I find myself trying to define where the boundary is between trust and gullibility. There is, I hope, a middle ground between the altruistic clouds and the paranoiac swamps.

My life is dull and boring on the surface. But here where I live is some small adventure in the search for the Land of Less Fear.

Rain on the Brain

Topic, schmopic....I'm going to go sit by the fire in the backyard and be entertained by my dogs.
My butt's going to sleep sitting here. C ya later.

The Cockatiel's Corpse

When this request was first put to me, I thought "These people are absolutely whacked."
Certainly it was out of the ordinary.

"Can we bury our dead cockatiel in your yard? "

Whacked, I tell you. Seems so at first glance.

Extenuating circumstances exist: these folks have birds and cats and live in an apartment house. Where might they bury a beloved pet when they live in an apartment house?

One of the perks of making mortgage payments is that we do have a place to bury small pets that have died. Three kittens, a cat, and an opossum inhabit our 'Pet Sematary' . And now, a cockatiel. While it seemed an odd request (okay, it is odd); to let them bury their bird in our yard was actually a great kindness.

It cost me little to be kind to them. Five minutes to find a spade and dig a small hole. Five minutes more to share their grief at the loss of a pet. As a pet owner I realize that I am responsible for the life of a pet and at the end of a pet's years, responsible for their death.

Like many responsibilities, it is uneasily borne.

Stupid Teens

It's true. We've encountered a nest of stupid teenagers. Usually I'm willing to live and let live, but these kids' permit has expired.

This episode begins with a couple of teen boys in their first apartment. Teen boys, with other teen boys hanging out at their place. I have nothing against boys, per se; after all, I married one. But teen boys are quite something else.

One thing teen boys are good at is attracting teen girls. Unfortunately neither the boys nor the girls have the intelligence that God gave a green worm. These boys are too stupid to successfully steal a bicycle(a post for another day). The girls are given to making crank calls on their cell phones. Like the silly girl who called last nite...after we were in bed asleep...and had to be vicious with our answering machine.

These young people think they invented the word 'F***' (rhymes with duck). We know that's not true. Al Gore invented it shortly after he invented the Internet. The kids also think they invented sex, drugs, booze, and loud music... Oops; I believe my generation gets credit for that.

These teens haven't invented anything. Not even being a pain in the ass