The best laid plans of mice

"Warning: worktime boredom may result in internet surfing and taking
useless tests." -A should-be warning label applied to Work

Apparently, my Real Age is a decent 23.5, my Intelligence Quotient is 130, my personality color is White, and my Disney Princess alter-ego is Belle from Beauty and the Beast. The things one can learn about oneself on the internet...

Just for fun, I looked up the word "plan" in the dictionary. Dictionary.com, that is. Who uses a real paper dictionary these days? I don't even remember the last time I saw a print dictionary up-close and personal. But I digress.

My favorite given definition of plan:

One of several planes in front of a represented object, and perpendicular to the line between the object and the eye.

"In addition to the idiom plan, also see best-laid plans"

My plans do always seem to end up perpendicular to the line that connects the object and my eye. Never parallel to that line, creating a pathway in between for me to walk down, but rather an intersecting, cutting that line between me and the object. This leads me to question the purpose of plans anyhow. What precisely is the point, if the best laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft agley? Don't get me wrong, I can definitely appreciate the benefits that come from grander scale plans (like Health Care, Economy, Peace-keeping, you get the drift). Making plans on such an insignificant scale as my future seems fairly futile. Plans are constantly in a state of flux. One tiny vicissitude and the whole line shifts. Someone should write to Merriam-Webster and petition to have the word "fluid" added to its definition.

I have always felt like my own future was going to be unordinary. Not necessarily extraordinary, but against what is expected. Grow up, go to college [to] get married and have babies and that's it? I live in a culture where that is normal, expected, praised, even idolized by the majority of girls probably from birth. In good ol' Happy Valley, if you're female and umarried by 23 or at the very latest 25, you're a menace to society. I personally know so many women who are 38-40 and are already grandmothers. Got married at 18 and had a baby, then that child grew up and got married at 18 and had a baby.. etc. I've never felt that pull. Sure I want to get married and have a family eventually, like anyone else. I sure don't want to be alone the rest of my life! But what is coming?

Am I afraid of my future or am I just too comfortable standing still to take any risks?

I need to graduate college. I want to live in Europe. I want to make an impact and create memories that are unique, not average.

Oh the places I'll go. I'll get there someday.

Cripfucius fortune cookie says...

When you’re only wearing one sock a day and you’ve run out of socks,
it’s probably time to do laundry. -Cripfucius

One week. That's all I have left in this lovely bright green cast that goes nearly to my knee and shows only my first 3 toes, which happen to look rather cute with red nail polish thank you very much. Six weeks ago, my legs committed mutiny as I was leaving an overly long work day. My right leg decided to slip off a [carpeted!] stair, but it was my left leg that was really out to get me. I guess if you're going to break your leg, you oughta break it thoroughly. I'm debating whether or not to include the last days of my broken leg escapades here, I'm sure it will be several weeks afterwards before I can really walk again, but as Bob would say, baby step to the cast off... baby step to the cast off.. I'm sailing!

(If you get the above reference, you get 10 points and possibly a cookie.)

Nobody ever talks about the emotional roller-coaster this kind of thing puts you through. It's completely and outrageously nuts and I respectfully object your honor. Oh you'd think it's just your average every-day bimalleolar equivalent fracture needing a metal plate and 11 screws, right? Yeah, you'd think so. No, my friends.


!!!!Coming soon, to a theater near you:!!!!
My Time As A Cripple
(*deep voice* Rated R. not really.)

Starring:
Me playing "Me"
Left Leggus playing "The foot that was curious what Me's butt looked like while falling down stairs"

"You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll scowl, you'll wake up hungover without getting to have the fun night before. Entertainment for the whole family!" -Famous critic also known as Famous Critic


Something interesting I learned this week: an surgeon is legally bound to autograph a patient's extremity to be operated on as part of the pre-op procedures. The doctor then mysteriously disappears and the patient is wheeled from the pre-op room in to the OR. Enter the anesthesiologist, who must then verify the surgeon's initials are already on the said extremity before allowing the surgeon to operate. Then comes the fun part.

And there I was thinking that Dr. Bacon was being funny, but no.


Does anyone know the technical term for "being deathly afraid of stairs"? I'd like to put it on my impressive resume.

Testing one two three

"We're at the end of the universe, right at the edge of knowledge itself, and you're busy... blogging!" -Doctor Who

It's been a long time since I've blogged here at good old Blogspot. I've never really been satisfied with my own blogging, really. It may have something to do with my incapacitating inability to truly express myself, coming from years of habitually repressing emotions. Or maybe it's just that I'm too lazy to think of witty things to say. It's a toss-up...

In light of this, I have decided to take a fresh start and begin a new blog, which is why we're all gathered here together. (The old blog: clicky! ) Although not many people will read this, at least it's a Blog, right? This is not the place where I'll record the daily dull comings and goings of the person I like to call "me," but rather this will be a place of what I'm sure will be random absurd musings more often than not. Of things like this past [overly long] sentence that probably don't really even make sense and may not be grammatically correct. You get the drift.