Update about me
I'm sorry if I've been so inactive of late. My head hasn't be totally together. I'm working on it.
I've been suffering from terrible writers block which sucks, and yet at the same time my life has been about as scintilating as you can imagine a 39 year old stay at home mom's life can be.
In other words, I've been boring as hell.
However, I'm just a few freaking words away from the long overdue follow up to Roy's Turn. I hope to be done with it today.
On a totally different note, I've discovered something that has me wondering how normally I think.
Lately my friends have been very excited about perfumes and writing these amazing reviews full of evokative adjectives about them. I read the reviews and think, wow, that must be a pretty wild experience. Then I realized even if I did have the imp, I wouldn't get the same rush -- because when I smell things, all I do is smell them. I don't get any associations or memories. They don't evoke any emotions in me. I can tell if something smells like food, and food smells will make me hungry. Foul rotting smells will trigger a gag reflex. But that seems to be about the limit to what smells do to me.
I thought about this for a while, and then I realized that sights do the same thing. I'm not really into photographing things, though I do sometimes because I feel I aught to. I don't look over my photographs very often. That's because they don't evoke strong memories. Or more specifically, they don't evoke any emotions. I see them and remember, yeah that happened.
I've known for some time that people get something out of looking at things like collectables. That it must be rewarding in some way. I assumed since people don't generally PLAY with the little figurines, that there must be some sort of emotional reward to just looking at them. I've speculated that when someone looks at a Precious Moment figurine, they must feel something like maybe safety, or comfort, or love or protectiveness or something. I see a peice of plaster of dubious artistic merit, and while I'll look at them in someone elses house, I can't image spending money on one. I feel nothing emotionally.
My guess is that I have almost no emotional memory or associations. Once the feeling is past, it's gone. I can remember my physisiological reactions and I can remember what I did and what I said, but I don't feel the emotions. It's as if it happened to someone else and I just happened to be there.
While this does have some advantages, like the fact that I don't hold grudges, and don't dwell on some rather questionable things people have done to me in the past, it also means that I'm missing out on a whole demension in life. Nostalgia. That kind of sucks.
I got to go christmas shopping. I'm down to one kid, so maybe I'll have some luck. Wish me luck -- I hate shopping.
I've been suffering from terrible writers block which sucks, and yet at the same time my life has been about as scintilating as you can imagine a 39 year old stay at home mom's life can be.
In other words, I've been boring as hell.
However, I'm just a few freaking words away from the long overdue follow up to Roy's Turn. I hope to be done with it today.
On a totally different note, I've discovered something that has me wondering how normally I think.
Lately my friends have been very excited about perfumes and writing these amazing reviews full of evokative adjectives about them. I read the reviews and think, wow, that must be a pretty wild experience. Then I realized even if I did have the imp, I wouldn't get the same rush -- because when I smell things, all I do is smell them. I don't get any associations or memories. They don't evoke any emotions in me. I can tell if something smells like food, and food smells will make me hungry. Foul rotting smells will trigger a gag reflex. But that seems to be about the limit to what smells do to me.
I thought about this for a while, and then I realized that sights do the same thing. I'm not really into photographing things, though I do sometimes because I feel I aught to. I don't look over my photographs very often. That's because they don't evoke strong memories. Or more specifically, they don't evoke any emotions. I see them and remember, yeah that happened.
I've known for some time that people get something out of looking at things like collectables. That it must be rewarding in some way. I assumed since people don't generally PLAY with the little figurines, that there must be some sort of emotional reward to just looking at them. I've speculated that when someone looks at a Precious Moment figurine, they must feel something like maybe safety, or comfort, or love or protectiveness or something. I see a peice of plaster of dubious artistic merit, and while I'll look at them in someone elses house, I can't image spending money on one. I feel nothing emotionally.
My guess is that I have almost no emotional memory or associations. Once the feeling is past, it's gone. I can remember my physisiological reactions and I can remember what I did and what I said, but I don't feel the emotions. It's as if it happened to someone else and I just happened to be there.
While this does have some advantages, like the fact that I don't hold grudges, and don't dwell on some rather questionable things people have done to me in the past, it also means that I'm missing out on a whole demension in life. Nostalgia. That kind of sucks.
I got to go christmas shopping. I'm down to one kid, so maybe I'll have some luck. Wish me luck -- I hate shopping.