Inside is the New Outside

The Queen ne’er-do-well scans her realm for interlopers and contemplates the vast kingdom that is hers. From inside. Where it’s warm. Because it’s cold as hell Alaska out there. Or maybe even Antarctica. And who wants that?

boy, those squirrels look cold. stupid squirrels.

 

where’s my snack, servant?

A Radical Idea

Now I’m not about to pontificate like some hippy guru coming down from her cabin in the Vermont mountains, but please, take a look at the picture below. That’s our universe. It’s where we live. See how small we are?  See how absolutely minuscule our existence is in the grand scheme of things? We’re pretty much a drop in the bucket and that’s being generous.

I don’t mean to say this to be depressing. Quite the opposite, truth be told. It’s supposed to be a reminder that before we get livid over political differences, religious beliefs, or even just the people who cut in front of us in traffic, we should remember that we’re really sort of insignificant in this vast web of gases and atoms.

Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t be involved in what’s going on in our world today, especially politically speaking (goodness knows, we have to be now, more than ever), or that we should give up on our faith to placate someone else… what I am saying however, is that when it comes to arguing with strangers online or with Uncle John at the next family dinner — neither of whom will be listening anyway, because they’re so entrenched in their own mindset — maybe rethink your participation in an argument that will only serve to create stress and anxiety for you and will likely end up being more of a name-calling contest than a civil debate anyway.

Instead of getting enraged, how about we just focus on being nice to each other? That’s it — just be nice. Pretty simple, right?  I just think that as we rotate around our gargantuan sun that in itself is part of an unimaginably vast galaxy within an inconceivable array of other galaxies (with the potential of other dimensions that could be just as large), let’s just try to make the ride a little more pleasant for each other.

And let’s not include just humans in that concept – include animals, too.  Be nice to other living creatures.  I mean, really, how hard is that?  When you sit down and think about it, it just seems like the most logical thing to do.

However, I know it will never happen on a large scale because we’re human after all, and something as simple as “being nice” would just never work for our species as a whole. It’s beyond us, which is sad, really. But imagine what we could accomplish if we could pull off this amazing yet simplistic feat!  The issues that could be settled and the problems that could be resolved are boundless.

So maybe we start small.  Maybe smile at that neighbor who is always grumpy or hold the elevator for that person who is obviously late.  Perhaps throw some food to the stray you usually shoo away.  Or give some change to the homeless person you always try to ignore as you make your way to work.  Maybe realize that your kids can have a bad day too so you ignore the half-made bed that would normally spawn a lecture, and instead pull out a family board game.  It should all be so easy, really.

And the craziest part of this hare-brained idea is that the world, which is already so overwhelmed with stress and worry, would actually become a better place, allowing for less and less stuff to be stressed and worried about.  I know….ironic, right?

Charitable Contributions

Charity starts at home on the road and I just want to give a shout out to all those altruistic folks on the highways, at red lights, and in parking lots who are oh-so-kind enough to share their music with those of us less fortunate who might not have music of our own to listen to.

Without you, we might have to sit in glorious silence going over that speech we have to give in the PR meeting later, or perhaps, god forbid, we might catch up on the news or the latest weather report, or even be forced to listen to that audio book we checked out at the library just for our commute to work.

If it weren’t for you sharing your music at such a loud decibel that our cars shake, we might never know the pleasures of obscenity-laden music or lyrical rape scenarios, all while having our spines realigned and our heads on the verge of implosion from the sheer force of the bass.

So thank you, fellow citizen!

Thank you for doing your part to make what is already an annoying undertaking — our daily commute or running errands — that much more intolerable by giving of yourselves and your delightful taste in music.

Friend Therapy

My dog Petra, I may have mentioned before, loves to burrow under blankets, or anything really. It’s her thing. Petra is not the bravest soul in the universe — with good reason, her life before coming to us was not the best. To make a long story short, burrowing under a blanket, preferably her own, makes her feel safe and comforted, and it has the added effect of being completely adorable. My house is full of blankets. They’re on the couch, the chairs, in the corner by the bookshelf, in a box (just as an aside, it was NOT my idea to keep this Amazon box indefinitely, but the animals — cats and dogs alike, have taken a liking to it, so I figured, what the hell), and in the dogs’ beds. Whew. That’s a lot of dog blankets.

Not being particularly smart, or perhaps not realizing, even after all this time, the depths of Petra’s need to burrow, I washed ALL of the blankets at once this past week. The drama that ensued…the whining, the whimpering, the crying…as this dog searched the house for a blanket was a sight to behold. I almost sat down and cried myself. I felt guilty. I felt stupid for not thinking to leave out one blanket. I felt bad for making Petra sad and uncomfortable. And then, I felt stupid for feeling all of the above.

In comes Rufus to the rescue. Rufus the Invincible.  He didn’t like that Petra was nervous and whimpering. He didn’t like that at all. I don’t know if he understood why. He couldn’t care less for blankets, but he does have favorite toys — and knows where they are at all times, so maybe he did understand her discomfort. At any rate, he swooped in and saved the day. As an aside, I must state here that Rufus and Petra love each other, they play and hang out and are always concerned about each other, but they like their own space. Rufus especially. They don’t lay together or sleep together…they never share the same bed (they’re much too prim and proper). But one afternoon this past week, when Mom was dumb enough to wash all of the blankets at once (a day that will go down in infamy, let me tell you), Rufus let Petra join him in his favorite bed, and there she stayed, comforted by his presence.

And I learned a good lesson: that in the future, one blanket would always get washed separately…so this horrible day will never be repeated.

dogs in bed together2

Rufus was giving me the side-eye because he was not happy with my laundry choices or my decision to immortalize the event on film (okay, it was really just my phone, but you get the idea)

Monday Blues…on a Sunday

You know what tomorrow is. That’s right, Monday. I hate Mondays, I won’t lie. But at least I have science to back me up on this. And while, as the article states, an argument can be made that all work days are awful in and of themselves, what virtually everyone remembers as being particularly horrible is…all together now…Monday. I think we should just do away with Mondays — as a work day — altogether. Let the work week start at Wednesday — still end on Friday, mind you. I think that could work. Yeah, let’s do that.

Can I Have This Dance?

You know, growing up I just always thought that slow dances would somehow play more of an active role in my adult life. In fact, if you ever watch Hallmark Channel movies, they too feed into the whole slow dance myth…in virtually every movie, couples end up slow dancing at some point in time. The realities of adulthood are so disappointing. Or maybe I’m just hanging out with the wrong people.

 

Got Demons?

I wish I could say that the below graphic is from a funny site or a tongue-in-cheek book on cults or even a dark arts list from bygone days where exorcisms and wooden stakes were handed out willy-nilly.  But no, it’s from a modern-day group of demonologists – led by an “end times” pastor.  I had hoped that the site would still prove satirical, but I have yet to find any proof of that. Instead, it appears to be on the up and up.  For whatever that’s worth.  Which is both scary and sad. I’m hoping someone proves me wrong by finding the small print I have overlooked…you know, that teeny-tiny legal disclaimer stating the site is “for entertainment purposes only.”  Trust me, pointing out my mistake in this instance would make me feel better all around.  As it is, I can only take this list and the site itself at face value. Oh, did I mention the “end times” pastor in question also writes books? Yeah, apparently, he does, along with marketing videos and podcasts as well. Go figure.

click the pic to dive down the rabbit hole

Not content with your everyday demons, this particular end times pastor also delves into the mayhem that aliens and fairies spread far and wide…specifically their predilection for giving food to unwary travelers in an attempt to swoop them away. I know, I know, I shouldn’t make fun. Fairy kidnappings are not a thing to mock. My friend’s cousin’s wife’s brother-in-law’s neighbor was taken by a fairy back in 1973 and they haven’t heard from him since. It was horrible. The family never recovered. Or so I heard from my friend’s cousin thrice-removed.

Nothing if not versatile, the good pastor also advises and counsels people for mental illness and developmental disabilities of all kinds – but only in so far as he believes these poor souls to be possessed by demons. According to him, from what I’ve read on his site that is, all manner of illness or variation from the so-called norm (whatever the hell that is) – from anxiety to depression to autism to dissociative identity disorder, are part and parcel of demonic possession. He helps his followers by somehow expelling said demons and abracadabra, they’re cured of whatever ails them. I’m telling you, this guy must be really fun at parties.

Oh! Did I mention fallen angels?  Yeah, there’s fallen angels we have to watch out for too, besides Satan, that is. Of course there are. They’re different from demons you know. Obviously. I’m not sure why these end times people aren’t spending their time and energy on praying for Satan and any other fallen angel…I mean, if anyone out there needs prayers of salvation and a bit of simple humanity, it’s Satan and his merry band of fallen angels.

Now, I’m not one to question another person’s faith. Everyone faces the world and whatever might lay beyond it in their own way. If that’s through organized religion or howling at the moon, to each their own and I wish them well, truly. But it’s this kind of thing that I just can’t respect or get behind. Trading on fears and cult mentality is always, at its center, for the benefit of the so-called leader…not those who follow. As it just so happens, this pastor also wrote a book back in the day on starting your own business. Wonder if it includes a step-by-step guide on how to become a door-to-door exorcism salesman? I might want to get in on that gig. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I hear my evil “mom look,” the one I would give my kids when they were doing something wrong in public (but were too far away to grab) struck fear in everyone within viewing distance, not just my kids. So, I think I could work some good old-fashioned discipline on a pesky ol’ demon. As Scrappy would say, “let me at ‘em!  Let me at ‘em!

Not to mention, that according to this list, I’ve just accrued a myriad of new reasons as to why I’m going to hell. As if I needed more reasons. Sure, just pile on, why not? But hey, it’s clear now that the demons have hold of me (my ex would say he’s known that the whole time) — my brimstone-heated road to hell is not my fault. It was paved by yoga and Harry Potter and *cough* Twilight (shhh, that one’s a secret) and goodness (badness?) knows what else. So at least there’s that.