Ashyknees' Time Killer

The author is willing, but her punctuation is weak.

Friday, May 28, 2010

Limburger

Limburger
I asked a guy to dance with me at a social dance--not a night club, but a place I think most people go just to dance and have platonic good times. He said, "No thanks, I'm tired." Then during the same song, he started dancing energetically with a friend he ran into. And when I new song started, he asked someone else to dance. And I was offended. I should have stood up and sang, "Why won't you dance with me? I ain't no limburger!"

I've danced with limburger. I've danced with guys who don't smell bad, but who are drenched in sweat. I've danced with women. I take all comers. But it appears that Mr. LeTired does not share my open door policy of social dance, a policy that was based on many etiquette talks given by the organizers of this particular dance organization.

Dancing with me can't be described as a pure delight. And not long ago, I went through a phase of being wretched even for a beginner. But honestly I am much better now. And I'm better in part because I danced with lots of people. I can't get better unless I dance more. And I can't always dance with the same guys from my cohort (the people who sort of started dancing at the same time I did).

Anyway, Mr. LeTired probably did not intend to offend me. I imagine his main goal was to not dance with me, and if I didn't like it, too bad. And when people he wanted to dance with appeared, again his intentions had nothing to do with me. Of course he would rather dance with his friends. Of course he would rather dance with people with his level of prowess. But I have my own aims, and I don't like to have someone get in the way of those aims.

Intentionally

Recently I've been thinking about intention and the assumption of intention in human interaction. The assumption of intention must serve some purpose, otherwise why would we be so quick to make that assumption. But right now the assumption of intention just seems to cause more trouble than it's worth.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

I shake my fist at you, stupid mistakes!

I am not stupid, but I make many stupid mistakes and that's just how it is.

Ever since I was a little kid, I have been plagued by nonsensical errors and omissions. "Well, you would have aced this test, but you kept making these stupid mistakes. Next time, just don't make these stupid mistakes."

Just don't. Just stop. We won't tell you how. Why should we bother? It's obvious that these mistakes are stupid. Why did you think that it was a good idea to forget to carry the two? Why?

Okay, first of all, are there any smart mistakes? Perhaps I should switch to making those, then I would be famous and revered in spite of my errors. Alan Greenspan comes to mind. I'll bet he was never scolded for forgetting to carry the two.

Today, I know that I have some power over the number of stupid mistakes I make, but that power is limited. I have fewer mental glitches when I am well-rested and I can put a quality control routine in place. That requires time. I can also delegate boring, detailed, or repetitive tasks when help is available. Still, I can't always control my work circumstances. Work piles up though a combination of my time management problems and outside factors. I can't always set aside extra time to double check things when I am given a last minute assignment. I can't stop people from asking me questions when I am tired or hungry. And when something seems obvious, it's harder for me to remember to check. Well, even top surgical teams have benefited from check lists. They are great when I remember to read them.

Some ADHD support web site or pamphlet would tell me to embrace my stupid mistakes. They can lead to wonderful discoveries, so long as the discoveries don't result in loss of life or limb. But mostly, they just make me look like a dingbat and lead people to talk to me as if I was an imbecile.

Saturday, May 01, 2010

Sesame Oil

I am using sesame oil as a daily hair conditioner and it's excellent. This cosmetic sesame oil is practically odorless. It feels lighter than olive oil, yet it keeps my hair softer for longer. Hopefully, I can find another place nearby to buy it besides Whole Paycheck.

Neti wetty

My neti pot came in a box with a picture of smiling woman on it. This happy, fully dressed woman with her head tiltled just so is pouring water from the neti pot into one nostril and sending the water back out of the other nostril in a controlled stream.

Good for her.

When I use the neti pot, I have to be in the shower standing over the drain. I have to be far away from any clothing I might actually want to leave the house in. And I have to block out at least 20 minutes of my life to being prepared to deal with any surprise drainage that might occur after I bend over to pick up some socks or something.

I guess that image wouldn't make for a very compelling package photo, but at least it would be truth in advertising.