It's the little things...
I really have trouble taking corrections from someone who cannot figure out the proper use of commas and semicolons. I don't know why that of all things has become such a gut-twisting tooth-clenching issue, but it has. I die a little every time she forces me to abuse English grammar.
It would make an amusing sitcom moment. I'm sitting there, taking dictation. "Blah blah comma blah." No, a comma doesn't go there! I stop. Lock up. My eyes spin in their sockets. She taps the screen. "Comma, right there." My head explodes, and a gory shard of skull shrapnel impales her through the ear.
And in a further installment of "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means" (Princess Bride love), "predisposed" now joins "dearth" (which she used to mean excess), "thus", and other examples of brilliance. "Columb" and "volumn" have yet to be topped, however.
On top of all this, last Wednesday I threw my shoulder out and burned my other forearm. Yesterday the nerve endings finally returned to the burn. This is peachy in and of itself, but the burn is also right where my forearm rests when I type. My body has decided that it is fall apart week, and I also accidentally shaved the skin off my left ankle, developed a weird rash on my leg, and I have the worst allergy symptom ever- the dreaded itchy palate.
While I am depressed at being slowly annoyed to death by accidents and crazy people, I'd like to clearly state my awareness of how insignificant my own suffering is compared to what is happening in Myanmar and China. I guess there's a possibility another cyclone may hit Myanmar soon. 100,000 at least dead, junta apparently stealing aid packages... I guess a few foreign aid workers are finally being allowed in, but at a trickle. I guess the Chinese government is accepting aid but not foreign aid workers, but unlike Myanmar that seems to be an understandable decision. As Jason pointed out, they do have plenty of people, not to mention a booming economy and an image to preserve in light of the Olympics.
Once again, His Holiness the Dalai Lama has been his wonderful self, being prompt in offering prayers for the victims of the Chinese earthquake, despite the current situation. Pure class. I actually hope never to meet His Holiness because I suffer from this extreme desire to hug the man. I mean... look at him! He's adorable! How far down in hell would I go if I made Dalai Lama plushies?
I am sometimes tempted to pursue Buddhism but I enjoy pleasures of the flesh, eating things with faces, and am lazy. The last I'd wish to change, but I'm pretty solid in my belief that bodies are to be enjoyed within reasonable limits. I do believe that I can find God/the Divine/FSM/etc in a bowl of ice cream, and orgasm, or another hedonistic pursuit. This is not to say I advocate digging for God like little chunks of cookie dough until the entire carton is gone, because then you get out of pure pleasure into overindulgence and gassiness. Besides, God isn't just in the chewy, salty, chocolatey bits. God is everywhere. He is in the fudge sauce, the plain vanilla, the little over-frozen bits near the top of the ice cream.
Good grief, my spirituality revolves around fat and sugar. But I hope my point comes across. Moments of pure, physical pleasure that do not occur at the expense of another are a gift! Either that or I'm using a flimsy spiritual excuse to justify liking junk food. Whatever.
Well this is a more rambling entry than I intended. Whee.
It would make an amusing sitcom moment. I'm sitting there, taking dictation. "Blah blah comma blah." No, a comma doesn't go there! I stop. Lock up. My eyes spin in their sockets. She taps the screen. "Comma, right there." My head explodes, and a gory shard of skull shrapnel impales her through the ear.
And in a further installment of "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means" (Princess Bride love), "predisposed" now joins "dearth" (which she used to mean excess), "thus", and other examples of brilliance. "Columb" and "volumn" have yet to be topped, however.
On top of all this, last Wednesday I threw my shoulder out and burned my other forearm. Yesterday the nerve endings finally returned to the burn. This is peachy in and of itself, but the burn is also right where my forearm rests when I type. My body has decided that it is fall apart week, and I also accidentally shaved the skin off my left ankle, developed a weird rash on my leg, and I have the worst allergy symptom ever- the dreaded itchy palate.
While I am depressed at being slowly annoyed to death by accidents and crazy people, I'd like to clearly state my awareness of how insignificant my own suffering is compared to what is happening in Myanmar and China. I guess there's a possibility another cyclone may hit Myanmar soon. 100,000 at least dead, junta apparently stealing aid packages... I guess a few foreign aid workers are finally being allowed in, but at a trickle. I guess the Chinese government is accepting aid but not foreign aid workers, but unlike Myanmar that seems to be an understandable decision. As Jason pointed out, they do have plenty of people, not to mention a booming economy and an image to preserve in light of the Olympics.
Once again, His Holiness the Dalai Lama has been his wonderful self, being prompt in offering prayers for the victims of the Chinese earthquake, despite the current situation. Pure class. I actually hope never to meet His Holiness because I suffer from this extreme desire to hug the man. I mean... look at him! He's adorable! How far down in hell would I go if I made Dalai Lama plushies?
I am sometimes tempted to pursue Buddhism but I enjoy pleasures of the flesh, eating things with faces, and am lazy. The last I'd wish to change, but I'm pretty solid in my belief that bodies are to be enjoyed within reasonable limits. I do believe that I can find God/the Divine/FSM/etc in a bowl of ice cream, and orgasm, or another hedonistic pursuit. This is not to say I advocate digging for God like little chunks of cookie dough until the entire carton is gone, because then you get out of pure pleasure into overindulgence and gassiness. Besides, God isn't just in the chewy, salty, chocolatey bits. God is everywhere. He is in the fudge sauce, the plain vanilla, the little over-frozen bits near the top of the ice cream.
Good grief, my spirituality revolves around fat and sugar. But I hope my point comes across. Moments of pure, physical pleasure that do not occur at the expense of another are a gift! Either that or I'm using a flimsy spiritual excuse to justify liking junk food. Whatever.
Well this is a more rambling entry than I intended. Whee.