A friend asked me if I ever plan on writing anything deeper than what I usually write. Aside from the fact that I prefer to make people laugh, and that I strongly believe that continuously pointing out the problems in the world without endeavoring to offer a solution (which I don’t exactly have) only adds to those problems, I usually just write about whatever’s going on in my life and the thoughts that come of that. For example, “Limited Social Capacity” was motivated by the fact that I was going to take a walk with a friend and then she invited one of her friends to join us without giving me advance warning (the time appointed doesn’t count as advance warning), much to my chagrin.
Unfortunately, recent events have been a little bit too deep to share in a general blog like this one. Hence the lack of posts for several weeks—or however long it’s been. I had things to say, but I just didn’t want to explain them as fully as the context demanded. However, there is one deep thing that I am willing to share.
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I like groups of two. Just myself and another person. I’m most comfortable in these kinds of settings, especially with a person who doesn’t need conversation at all times. I don’t mind larger groups when I know everyone in the group, especially if we all know each other well. Each group number has its own benefits and negatives. Usually with larger groups in which I know everyone fairly well, I can find a balance. I either let everyone else talk and listen or talk to whoever’s nearest me.
But the worst group setting is three. Three is a horrible number. Again, it’s not so bad if all three know each other. But one person I know and a friend of that person I know absolutely nothing about in some kind of sustained social interaction? Horror of horrors! Abort! Abort! This is not ok!
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When you’ve expressed interest in writing, especially on Pinterest, you get a lot of suggestions for writing in your feed—writing prompts, tips and tricks for overcoming writer’s block, and do’s and don’t’s. Writing prompts are fun (a friend of mine semi-recently wrote a blog post about How to Use a Story Prompt, which I think is important information, though I never had that misconception myself), and tips and tricks can be useful depending on who you are, but the do’s and don’t’s?
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This is kind of a no brainer, but it’s something I realized from an incredibly awkward and ridiculous situation that I experienced last week.
Now, on a normal day, none of this would have happened. It only happened because a set of things that don’t usually happen happened all at the same time (isn’t that the way of things?). I woke up late on Friday. Not so late that I was already late for work, but late enough that I needed to hurry in order to arrive on time. So I skipped breakfast. Now, my dermatologist has me taking an antibiotic for acne. I’m supposed to take it with food (the pharmacist says not to take it near dairy, but the dermatologist told me to ignore the pharmacist, so…), and I normally take it right as I’m leaving for work after I’ve had my bowl of cereal. Friday, I skipped breakfast, but didn’t skip my pill. I had a bag of almonds at work which I was planning on munching on as soon as I got to work.
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<< Robbie: Trust Fall
Earlier today, police officers happened to be nearby when a stray cat was found stuck in a tree outside Metroville City Bank. The cat was extracted from the tree just as a group of suspicious characters was leaving the bank. The bank’s alarm went off moments later, and quick thinking on the part of Officer James Morton lead to the capture of the five men who had just robbed the bank. No details have been released as to how the robbery took place.
Officer Morton commented, “I’m thankful for that cat getting stuck. If it hadn’t, we wouldn’t have been anywhere nearby to respond as quickly.”
The cat, a female with long white fur, has been taken to the local animal shelter and will be put up for adoption if unclaimed by the end of the week.
– Gale Foresight, Metroville News on Demand
Angie: Living Fire >>
<< Angie: Tracking
How do you ground an 18-year-old guy in the 21st century? Confine him to his room when he’s home, take away his phone and computer, trust him that he will respect your restrictions, and limit his activities to those which are “edifying.”
I had so many problems with being grounded.
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I love playing the game, “If you were a literary character, who would you be?” Sometimes when I think about it, I get the same feeling as I do when I give gifts. That feeling of, “Ah yes, this comparison is IT,” and until I get that feeling, I keep thinking, “Eeeehhhh.. that’s not it.”
So a few friends of mine and I started talking about it. The Risable Rambler started it, and then the Dinky Bird and Me and another friend and I got into it. We shortly all agreed that Risabella is Jo March from Little Women. After much discussion, we eventually concluded that our other friend was Miranda from The Tempest (after considering Kanga from Winnie the Pooh, Eowyn from Lord of the Rings, Viola from Twelfth Night, amongst others), and I insisted that Dinky Bird and Me is either Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility or Lizzie Bennett from Pride and Prejudice. I’m thinking Marianne just works for her (the other choices for her are Galadriel and Eowyn from Lord of the Rings, or Jane Eyre).
Who did they insist I am?
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Have you ever had one of those problems that never happens when someone who could potentially fix the problem is actually looking? That’s an IT problem. It could also be a mechanical problem. Because these problems are most often related to computers or to cars. The best you can do is describe the problem as clearly as possible and keep checking back with the person who understands these kinds of problems until it happens again in front of them.
I have one of those problems. Now, strictly speaking, it’s not a problem; at least, not one that can be fixed. According to my cardiologist, I have mitral valve prolapse. I don’t really understand it, but I’m assured it’s not dangerous or anything I need to worry about. I just need to be aware of it, have tests every few years, and generally not worry. But I can’t actually be diagnosed unless it shows up on an echocardiogram. I’ve had several echoes—I won’t go into how weird it is to have an echo as a 15-year-old girl with your dad and a male doctor in the room—and each time my heart has behaved perfectly normally. But every once in a while, never during a test, I get funny palpitations that are a little bit unnerving. Maybe more than a little bit.
When the experts are looking, the problem never manifests itself.
Isn’t it so comforting knowing that we have a God who doesn’t have to be looking at just the right time in order to know that you have a problem? Who put you together just the way you are according to His design? There are many passages in the Bible that I repeatedly come back to, and Psalm 139 is one of them.
I have a very dear friend who doesn’t do surprises. It’s not really that she doesn’t like surprises, but that she always winds up spoiling them. Gift giving isn’t really a love language in her family, but they also think it’s really important that everyone get presents for special occasions. So what usually winds up happening is my friend picks a bunch of things she has wanted and asks for them. Almost invariably, she gets those things. But for some reason, her family still wraps the things. No real surprise in the opening of presents.
It’s the same with plots to movies, TV shows, and books. She reads summaries before actually watching or reading the thing.
I don’t get it.
Occasionally I’ve been tempted to look ahead so much because I just wanted to find out what happens, but that is very rare. And the more I like the thing, the less willing I become to let it get spoiled. I knew almost nothing about Civil War when it came out, besides who was in it. I know there’s a blogger that does a detailed summary of each new issue of my favorite manga, Skip Beat, before the translations come out, but I won’t even look at the raws that blogger posts with the summary. I usually don’t even watch trailers to new movies, if possible.
Can anybody explain to me why spoiling things is OK?
Since I started working where I work, it’s become sort of a standing joke that I don’t like food in general. Which isn’t true, strictly speaking.
I love food.
I’m just very passionate about hating the foods that I hate.
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