on “walking it off”

I grew up understanding that there are two kinds of illness: the kind that makes you vomit and the kind that makes you bleed.

If you have a vomity illness, you require ginger ale.

If you have a bleedy injury, you need to walk it off.

Anything else is malingering.

You’ll notice that in this view, there is really only ONE kind of illness – physical.

There IS no mental illness, only mental weakness. And if folks would just pull themselves up by their bootstraps and pull themselves together, everyone would be just fine.


2WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWF3G (sorry, that was Squiggle. He likes to “help”.)

So imagine my consternation when I took a magazine quiz the other day and discovered that I am THE gold standard of Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder.

Come, take it with me. You’re supposed to rate each statement on a scale of 0 to 3, 0 being “not at all like me”, to 3 being “JUST like me”.

I tend to overlook details.
I prefer to think of it as “big-picture” thinking, okay? I’m a visionary, not an actuary. 2.

It’s hard for me to listen for long periods of time in meetings.
You mean there are people who find it EASY to listen for long periods of time in meetings?!? 3.

I wander from one task to the next without completing them.
We call this “multi-tasking”. The tasks get finished, but not in one fell swoop. 2.

I jump from topic to topic in conversation.
This is a bad thing? Then why did they invent the word “non-sequitor”? I can’t help it if you can’t follow my inner monologue which is running at light-speed, while I wait for the rest of you slow people to catch up. 3.

I tend to fidget or doodle.
Um. Yeah. 3.

I interrupt others during conversations, even when I try not to.
Um, I don’t THINK I do this. Do I? 0.

It seems much harder for me compared with others to take care of daily tasks.
Do you mean the mind-numbing minutiae that can eat up every day if you let it, like paying bills, cleaning the house, scooping the kitty litter, feeding the family, etc? 3.

I pick up and drop hobbies and interests.
You have only to follow this blog for the SMALLEST period of time to know THAT. 3.

I have difficulty planning ahead.
I DON’T plan ahead. 3.

I’m forgetful.
What were we saying? 3.

I frequently misplace personal objects.

My home and office are cluttered and messy.
No comment. 3.

I tend to run late.
I HATE arriving late to anything, and am usually the first one to arrive. 0.

I have difficulty developing routines for me or my family.
hahahahahahahaha. 3.

Meal planning is challenging for me.
See this post. 3.

I often start reading books but rarely finish them.
Sadly, this is true these days, more often than not. 3.

If this were elementary school, I’d ace this quiz. Gold stars for me. Yay!

Alas, I’m not sure if I need ginger ale or to “walk it off”.

Please advise.

going places

It’s been a looooong time since I went anywhere.

Being an aspiring agoraphobe, it’s already difficult to pry me out of the house without the assistance of heavy machinery. Unless we’ve run out of gin or chocolate, of course. That constitutes an emergency.

We TALK about going places. A LOT. It’s just every place is so FAR. And out of the house. We’ve even made one or two half-hearted attempts at planning little trips. They never pan out. Not that I’m complaining.

Business travel is different. I WILL leave the house for business, but business travel has been so severely curtailed in these trying economic times, the opportunity rarely presents itself.

The Rational Software Conference has become my one trip each year.

But (and there IS a point to this post SOMEWHERE, I swear) the problem is that I’ve forgotten how to travel.

I let my passport expire for a short time. I have no reason to log onto Dopplr anymore. I no longer know how to navigate the IBM travel site to make my travel arrangements, and I’m not 100% sure I remember how to fill out an expense report. But I’ve got time to figure that out.

And I find myself tickled beyond measure to be going places. Even if that place is Orlando.

Now I have to go pack. I’m going to Orlando, you know. In June.

the Strange family

This picture has nothing to do with the following post. I just LIKE it, ok?

The Girl called tonight.

From the laundromat. She was bored. So we chatted for several minutes about various important topics:

April Fools Day

I have mixed feelings about April Fools Day. On the one hand, some of the pranks are quite amusing. I think my favorite this year was the Guardian’s story about switching from 188 years of print to twitter. But it’s a fairly obvious prank.

On the whole, however, I’m a little too gullible for April Fools Day. To my everlasting shame, NPR caught me one year with a story about (and I kid you not) Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbett announcing that we had just sold Arizona to Mexico so they could have a salt-water port. I don’t remember exactly when the penny dropped and I realized that it was a horrible, miserable April Fools Day joke. Let’s just say it was embarrassingly late, and leave it at that, shall we? So I find myself approaching the entire day with caution. Is this a real email? Or a joke? A real news story? Or a prank?

It’s very tiring. Madame would prefer her April Fools Day jokes with giant banners reading “April Fools!”


The Ethical Complexities around Stovetop Reflectors

At what point is it ok to throw away your gross old stovetop reflector pans, and purchase new clean ones at Kmart for $1.99? Just how MUCH effort should one expend trying to clean them before throwing in the towel?

We suspect the answer is much different this year than it would have been, oh, say, five years ago.

What the World Needs, in the Worst Way

Laundromats with wifi and coffee. Or wifi and gin & tonics.

Our new favorite word in the entire world.


It all started with a text I received from the Girl a couple of evenings ago:

How many legs do lobsters have not including the claws

followed shortly by:

How many legs do lobsters have not including the claws woman!

I guessed 5. I was wrong.

Lobsters are decapods. 10 legs. Actually, 8 legs and those big old claws. The Girl would like it to be known that in HER humble opinion, 10 legs is a little excessive for a crustacean.

We’re changing our name to Decapod.

Kellypuffs Decapod.

Your MOM’s a decapod.