brace yourselves

Snow is nigh according to latest weather forecasts. This clip above of Robert Frost reciting his poem is an invaluable treasure--an auditory and cognitive balm that is bittersweet. As the younger millenials would say, it gives me the feels.

On the topic of snow and this season of premature sunsets (sadness inducing), I had to take deep breaths during these past few days due to being overcome by unexpected yet unavoidable events. Like an Energizer Bunny fueled by its compulsion to check off lists and do stuff but caged within a physical space. As I write this as a form of mental release and to obliterate the limits of the physical, I am hopeful that the next part of this tiny experience is The Average. I like the average, and I've alluded to this in the past. Like I'm going through life as if hiking on my designated path (I chose 'designated' because it's convenient, and I know I will sound like I embrace determinism, but I will stay in my zone of dumbness where I state 'I do not know'), and majority of the path involves a relatively flat paved road where treading is not difficult (The Average). Then there are those parts of the path with walkalators, where everything is just super fine and dandy (Better than The Average). There are also those parts with treadmills in varying degrees of speed and incline (Below Average) and the band OK Go appears out of nowhere singing their song 'Here it goes again' and doing treadmill choreography to accompany your struggle.
Then there are those parts of the path that are obstacle courses a la American Ninja Warrior (Worse than The Average)--where I am an out of shape librarian type woman and I fall down some pit so frequently yet still carry on, because there is no time limit and I can only go forward because of rules in the universe. Where am I right now? Maybe in the average-leaning section of the Below Average spectrum. Like this section:



In other news, here's an AI-generated image of a smoothie. It's grayish because that's how I like it. I'm kidding. It's how the color ends up when you mix a banana, a scoop of chocolate protein powder, flaxseed meal, powdered peanut butter, frozen kale, frozen blueberries, and unsweetened almond milk. There you go, a smoothie recipe for your consideration. Adjust to taste.

Whirlpool by A Lodge

 

Currently enjoying a little R&R before the hustle and bustle this coming fall. I did a lot of cathartic screaming while aboard an inflatable tube moving swiftly within a massive spiral tunnel slide and performed workout-worthy aquatic jumps while going against an artifical wave at an indoor water park. And it's only day one! The photo above which I took near said water park was an amazing sight. Incredible power, Mother Earth. Thank you and well done.

cosmic humour

 

what in the underworld heatwave?

This will be one of those non-introspective posts meant to express mind garbage. Indulge me.

It’s hot and muggy outdoors so the plan was to stay at home for the most part of the weekend. I still haven’t finished James Rollins’ Subterranean, because it was getting gory…as in human-decapitation-by-jagged-toothed-spiky-creatures level. Spoiler alert. I still like it and just needed some mental breaks. I’m avoiding nightmares involving being chased by ancient reptilians in tight underground caves.

So last night, I decided to browse through available romance ebooks from the public library via the Libby app and found one that had an interesting description. I will disappoint you by NOT revealing the title, because it was *insert this post’s title + fanning myself*. maybe I’m embarassed—I know I shouldn’t be, because the author writes well, but the sides of my face are now very warm. The book’s heroine was an autistic econometrician (well, you could Google that and you’d simply find out, eh?). So many relatable aspects about her character, that…that…it’s as if someone picked my brain. I’m not on the spectrum, but share some characteristics. You know what? Fine. I’m embarassed that you, my imaginary/ non-existent, possibly bot readers will look down on me for having enjoyed a steamy piece of prose. I just finished the book. Read it in less than 12 hours. 🤓

So there’s that. I will now publish this post, go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of cold sparkling water.

productivity and simulations

Today was a good day--dusting my hands off. Pat on the back. Well done, yours truly, good job. To continue my previous post's theme of inspiration with some inserted jargon...I was inspired to simulate the ideal distribution of life events measured in frequency of days involving happy/sad events (see Figure above). We have some unlabeled bins of happy-sad on the x-axis where the left is the direction of happy and the right is the direction of sad. I simulated the data of 30,000 days which is a rounded up estimate for a life expectancy of 82 years (average Canadian in 2019). I made the distribution a count distribution with an arbitrary parameter that made the data right-skewed. Pulled to the right...so that there are more of the happy events. That's the goal. That's the dream. That's the idea. We also want some boring events to happen between our levels 6-8 in the happy-sad spectrum...but mostly happy. If you're a pundit of such charts and variable distributions...please keep your opinions to yourself. I wanted my happy-sad variable to be Poisson-distributed, mainly for convenience. Plus, poisson sounds so fancy even though it literally means fish in French. Pwah-sohn...and chips. TGIF. 

Be stingy with one's greatness (motivation post)

Photo by Ryanniel Masucol from Pexels

 

When you are equipped with a considerable amount of knowledge, skills, unusual abilities--both requisite and nonessential--which are of value to you and more importantly to others, do not be an open book. Do not be a sample copy in a big bookstore chain where only the cover, table of chapters/contents, or physical appearance are given any time and consideration. Note that I'm not talking about the workforce or when you're in a job interview, which certainly compel you to showcase what you can put on the table in order to achieve a common goal whether helping make a company achieve its place in the Forbes 100 or how the breadth of your experience in transcranial magnetic stimulation makes you the most competent person who should be hired to zap neurons in the motor cortex in a breakthrough study. In those circumstances, you should be an open book...or maybe provide a complimentary chapter in your book. Are you catching up? Bueno.

Be an onion. A large white onion in a mountain of other white onions among other varieties of onions along the vegetable aisle of a supermarket. Be unassuming. Not for false modestly or self-righteousness. This is difficult, because depending on the type and degree of provocation, one's pride will tend to nurse itself. If someone tells you randomly and without prompt, I have very strong thumbs and I can see that yours are stubby, you might be tempted to retort, Well, I've been using thumb kettlebells to train my opposable digits as I'm representing my local library in the annual provincial canned sparkling water tab opening competition where the prize is a lifetime supply of canned La Croix sparkling water in passion fruit or mango...halt, stop, brake. Too much information. Lots of adrenaline mixed with pride.

My recommendation: examine the other creature. Squint your eyes to adjust your focus. Scratch your chin. Ask yourself: Does this animate form deserve to know the greatness of my existence? While one's instinct  would understandably resort to wallowing in self-doubt and pity and immediately write a mental note to shop online for fashionable gloves to disguise said stubby thumbs, pivot your thoughts. Does this person really need to know that your stubby thumbs are athletic grade or that you were once at the peak of your academic career and have a good grasp of the sciences or that you were a virtuoso and a multi-instrumentalist or that you've traveled to a Scandinavian nation alone or that you've seen a Van Gogh or rubbed elbows with notable figures or that you have a hefty pen collection? Is this creature worth divulging this valuable information? Do you see this creature as being part of your life? Do you need this person's validation? If your response is No to at least one of these questions, then imagine that superglue currently exists between your upper and lower lip and smile. Smile a knowing smile. A non-condescending antagonistic smile. Maybe a this-person-is-such-a-poor-cutie smile. Tell yourself, Oh no, I'm not interested in this game and I am not playing. The layers of my precious onion are reserved for certain entities...or maybe nobody at all. *hair flip*      

 

Recurring theme of dolor

Oh well, my rainbows/unicorns/stardust previous post was dampened by a usual theme of you-must-think-I'm-an estupida coocoo. I have a (insert sarcasm) lovely decade-old post about preferring to swim in my own putrefying remains (sheer poetry *applause*):

 

Notice my post entitled 'true.' Alas, it is easier to say sorry than to give a heads up. Hypothetically, it's easier to gaslight and pretend that doing googly eyes with another humanoid in a swimming pool offering a massage, or being discovered in a photo whilst in a hot tub with another humanoid, or being professed with ti amo by another humanoid, or receiving lavish things from another humanoid, or paying for a pair of humanoids' meals, or taking a humanoid to dinner because said humanoid is a person-of-authority, etcetera etcetera....are simple acts of kindness and need not require informing the other party with whom one has co-ownership. 

Friends, friends, friends....don't do that. Don't permanently damage a person's self-esteem by making that person question his/her/my sanity. Don't be...I can't believe I'm about to say this...don't be Mary Poppins (but heaven knows I love her)...

Image source

You might want to check this provocative article about how Mary Poppins is a sociopath:

https://www.themarysue.com/disney-mary-poppins-returns-sociopath/

Go on, read it, spit spot!

*ouch ouch ouch*

Relax

Image source

Torso-related issues have compelled me to seek respite from both professionals and so-called social media influencers. I was informed that I don't move as much--like an old wooden table that's been taken for granted. I suddenly could relate to Professor Charles Xavier (not to say that I've become paraplegic and have developed super telepathic powers) such that there may be a trade-off between exertion of conscious thought and physical movement. I understand that fine motor activities and largely physical activities like pounding on a rock with a mallet require a lot of mental work as well. I'm sure the brain experts have their explanations in terms of which part of the brain is in-charge of what. Suffice to say that I have neglected the very parts of my body that have been keeping me upright.

Things have improved thus far, thanks to both mind and body efforts. Also, I have been reading various books to distract my mind: doctrinal/spiritual, references, romance novels---while listening to binaural beats. Distract from what? I honestly don't know. Whatever it is that is not only causing my back and extremities to hurt but also have caused multiple canker sores, a large unexpected freckle on my lip, teenager-level zits (so cute, I know), and the need for the occasional sleeping pill--in Jesus' name, go away! That was dramatic. Hah!

So my short, nightly stretches (with some foam rolling, hehe) coupled with prayer, meditation, and maybe a few pages of whatever book I'm reading--have helped. Oh, and tea. I still drink coffee, but I'm not as hardcore as before--I can last a full day with 1-2 cups of instant...yes, my friend, instant coffee. Press that golden buzzer, unleash the shiny plasticine confetti, cover your mouth with both hands, and jump up and down in slow motion while a touching yet upbeat pop song plays on the background a la Britain's Got Talent--we have achieved control of the caffeine intake! I drink tea, both the caffeinated but mostly the non-caffeinated type.

Heed Frankie: https://youtu.be/oh4tHpUflDA?t=28

Colombian dance queen (a limerick)

There was a young girl called Alana
Who dreamt being in a cabana
This ain't Manilow
In a Las Vegas show
I just wanted to use the word 'Zumba'

------- I signed up for a Zumba class to fulfill my newly realized dream of being Shakira. Joke. About the dream. The class is real. *cue Shakira's Waka Waka*