Horses Named Dude and Democratic Hydras

The wonderfully insane mastermind behind "It Came from Allen's Brain!" asked a few interesting questions, and never passing up an opportunity to over- think, I got to work. 

For other probing questions and original stories, please visit: Allen's Brain

1)Q: You've been through a desert on a horse with no name (I feel bad for the earworm.) In a fit of boredom, you decide to name it. What is the horse's name?

A: The horse's name is Dude, of course. Dude is a horse, of course. "Dude" is a term of endearment in my family. 

2. Q: Dr Jarnikov, diabolical genius, is going to perform the classic brain swap experiment on you. Who/what is the other subject?

A: This is temporary, right? Because I sort of feel bad for whomever/ whatever takes custody of my brain. I'm used to it, and even I get annoyed. I've been told people are curious about how my brain works, so if there are any volunteers, walk this way.

3. Q: The Great Old Furry Tortoise of Wisdom grants you the answer to one question. What do you ask? 

A: Oh, dear. I'm sure the first thing on my mind would be, "Why are you furry, O, Wise Tortoise?" Before I could stop myself. 

4.Q: Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door. Build a better mouse, and...

A: Watch out, the world will either have pitchforks or Disney movie deals this time. 

5. Q: There are eight entrees on the menu. How does the hydra make up its minds which to order?

A: If it's a democratic hydra, they either draw straws or go by which head has gone the longest without eating. 

6. Q: It’s the end of the world, and you have the last pudding cup. What do you do with it?

A: I'd like to think that I'd have those little cardboard ice cream spoons, and would share if I could. Slurping out the dregs is best. What I'd probably do is try to save it and would end up mournfully intoning, "J-E-LL-Oh!" 

7.Q: Sometimes you just have to get away from the angry, pitchfork-wielding mobs. Bamboo hut in the jungle, laboratory hidden in a volcano, observatory on the ocean floor, or apartment in the sub-basement beneath the Asian food market?

A: This one's simple. Or is it? Everybody will probably think I'd try to hide in a volcano or under the sea. My best choice is to hole up somewhere that seems too obvious. I'm not giving anything away lest that route is closed off too.

8. Q: You’ve just strolled into an ice cream parlor in the Twilight Zone. What’s the ironic problem with their frozen treats?

A: It's the Twilight Zone, so expecting some strange disaster, like exploding ice cream, or ice cream made with a Soylent Green cone or ice cream that never makes you gain weight, because a portrait of yourself ages and morphs into a helus, (glutton) and then comes alive and eats you, would be too obvious. Rather, nothing happens... Or maybe it does. Your choice. Choose carefully! Hands off the peach Melba!

9. Q: You are the comic book superpower fairy. What amazing ability do you give your enemy?

A: The power to read my mind. 

10. Q: A box arrives at your door with a note, reading “Do not open!” What do you do?

A: Is it sparkly? If it's not ticking or moving ominously, I'll be sorely tempted to open it. I like rebelling. 

Its Name is Robert Paulsen, Its Name is Robert Paulsen

When you don't know what's going on with you, and you can feel your body attacking itself, and your emotions running wild, it's very easy to become anxious, to fear the shadows.

Finally, after so many exercises in frustration, in banging my head against brick walls at the neurologist's, and tests just going nowhere, I decided I'd draw a little road map. I knew I'd have to allow for pain and for my head to be grabbed, twisted and torqued each which way, but, in the penumbra days, when the pain isn't so bad, but I can point out the locations by touch, I made a model using a free service for a 3D realistic paper skull decoration. (I also almost ordered a skull coffee cup and still might, but that's just me being me.)

The first arrow at the left shows the pain creeping in. If you hold your left index finger up at your left eye, at an angle, you should be able to occlude your vision but still see a little, with a sort of "aura"... sort of like a partial lunar eclipse. I try to time my Imitrex injections before I see the eclipse, but it can happen pretty fast. Then, if you think storm cloud, the pain will move from the left temple, drifting over into the right. At about this time, I'll feel a bit like someone is having a rather festive party inside my brain, with fireworks, and Uncle Screwtape playing an extended drum solo,  while in the area where my spinal cord attaches to my brain, it's about the same as the temples.

There will be tests for MS and arteriosclerosis. The latter usually doesn't show up until you're in you're 60's, so I'm kind of letting it go. I refuse to consult good ol' Dr. Google. The doctors now think my symptoms, besides headaches, are part of a bigger puzzle, and are fitting in pieces. I have a spectral shadow to deal with. I am scared, yes. Very scared. So I named my shadow. Its name is Robert Paulsen. He looks like Meatloaf, he'll do anything for love, but he won't do that, that is just unspeakable! Now that the shadow has a name and a face, I'm not so frightened. It's how I beat my fright. I laugh at it.

Crackin' the Whip

Sometimes, I have to wonder just what gets into me and suddenly causes me to spout the most bizarre and perhaps inappropriate questions.

I had a hard time with plurals for words ending in "S" and X" --- "S" is somewhat simple---you can have one hippopotamus, or one uterus, but you'll have one hippopotami or two uteri. (Or one hypothalami, according to spell check.) I had to stop myself before I asked a rather liberal (in the sense of "favorable to or in accord with concepts of maximum individual freedom possible...") teacher "What do I have if I have more than one dominatrix?" (Besides the obvious.) For some reason, after being teased as regards a purse I got for an insanely good price, "Well," I said, "It's true...I like Louis Vuitton for quality and for the company's history, but really? I was tickled at the price being so low because of a small stain of dye on one of the straps. And I love the smell of leather.."
 "Bethy, you do have some leanings towards being a dominatrix, after all!"
"What do you call more than one dominatrix?" I almost asked again, "Do they hang out in groups, have conventions and pick out whips together? 'Martha, you've got to try the Pounder 5,000XXT Special Edition!' A gaggle, a legion, a murder, like crows?" I'm sort of glad I stopped myself. I blame nothing more than a very warped sense of curiosity.

Testing, Testing, One, Two, Three

1) Accepting the things I cannot change
Off the bat, there's the past, whatever good or bad came from it, and whatever good came out of the bad. That is a miracle, and something I will always cherish.
But too often, we become bogged down: "I will always be dreaming of a better world"... OK... now, the "better world" need not be big or splashy... I need not build a monument to myself with feet of clay. Nor do I need to make money hand over fist, quite possibly forgetting exactly why I went into that business in the first place. Other people? Yes. They have needs, rights, responsibilities, etc. of their own. There sometimes needs to come a time when "I cannot be a part of your life, but I do hope it's blessed and fabulous"... needs to be bestowed in benediction, before old doors are finally shut.  There are things that seem impossible to change "I hurt. I behaved like a freaking idiot and feel guilty that I exposed someone else to that. That I let stupid things hide out in the recesses while attempting to think positive... I kept white washing rather than dealing and moving on. Now I can't do that anymore, and I'm terrified that all people will be able to remember is the negative". Here comes wisdom. I need to go through my handy little list of regrets, and poke holes in some of my theories. Yes, some things are impossible. While I will never be able to walk a tightrope across Niagara Falls while said rope is on fire, (although many social situations kind of feel like this, including the flutter in my stomach,) or run a perfect marathon, there's a lot of things, like simply enjoying a day out in the sunshine or wandering among old books, or curling up on the floor and enjoying a quiet moment... that I can do. As for health, I can ensure that I am tougher on doctors, and quietly, maturely let them know when they're hurting me by treating symptoms and running un-necessary tests. I can shrug off the stupid, nasty things people may say...we're all capable of it... including me. I can keep at my goal not to apologize for everything. I can learn how to deal with negative emotions before I let them build up and boil over. So these, once in a list of "Never can change"... are no longer water-tight.

2)Needing the courage to change the things I can
I can ask for forgiveness if I have scared someone during one of my "boil-overs". I can remember not to take things as nasty, or to shrug it off. I mean, does it matter if someone in West Bumfuk, Nebraska thinks I buy my friends and keep a string of human toys? No. What matters is: that I treat both myself and those I care for, and even those I don't like, with patience, forgiveness, and remembering not to keep a record of wrongs. What matters: is that I see people being joyful, happy, that they feel happy and at peace around me.  I can take time to pray to learn to forgive myself, and for more courage out in this cold world. Yes, it can be gray and gloomy. I don't have to be. I can learn all sorts of things, from how to fix a bathtub, or a drain, or how to replace an old pipe, and feel good. And I think I know that occasionally I can lean, and can be leaned on if needed. I can ask bluntly for what I want instead of being scared...and if scared, can say so right away: "Um, I'm the wrong person to ask that/ are you sure you meant <Insert problem here>?" until I learn to ignore the tiny, silly ones. I can focus on a goal and rejoice in seeing progress. I can keep going. I can learn to ignore the negative... at the moment, I'm taking time to take stock and get my health back... and avoiding negativity from a few different sources that unfortunately, ends up getting conflated into one gigantic hell beast. I can get past my triggers or find ways to avoid them. I can put the safety on.

3)May I have the wisdom to know the difference
Here is where these lists I make come in handy. I can go out more, and, with some blockades... what I can/can't eat or drink, what I'll do if I feel nervous... and I can learn to say no without shame. I can say "I like this, but like ice cream, I wouldn't want it all the time", or, "I don't like that...that's scary for me." I can make these lists and cross off the "But"s, the "ifs" and just live. I can poke holes and change the things that don't hold water. And... I can just live, smile, focus on the good, laugh at the bad, and give myself room, knowing that mistakes and bad days can, do, and will happen. I can quit analyzing everything. Or I can use that for good. I can, um... learn to tell the difference between "Doesn't need you over-thinking", and "This needs to be worked out." I can quit giving myself things to feel guilty for. I can let myself feel, without worrying about judgment. I don't have to live in fear constantly. I have survived, can, and will... I can live and breathe freely now.
I can love myself.

PS. No, I cannot say I live in the best of all possible worlds... mine is certainly not pink and peach and gauzy. But I can remember to love, to enjoy, to feel with my fingers and my bare feet, to enjoy, to smell, to taste... and I can "cultivate" my own garden (regardless of the fact that that consists of an orchid named Jack and an oxalis named Bobbsey sitting on my dresser in mismatched pots. And I can be happy. I am happy.

Chicken Butts, the King Of Glory, & Probing Pre-Caffeine Questions

What's Up, Chicken Butt?
Rooster feathers typically used in certain types of fishing lures are being pre-empted for a hot new hair trend, to the point where tackle and bait shops refuse to sell them to women. What's the deal? Well, they breed special roosters for a year, and then euthanize them (How nice, they politely kill them!) then they turn their beautiful butt feathers into fishing lures. Chicken-Butt-Feathers. Hair. Ne'er the twain shall meet. And the poor ickle rooster...reaches his 1st birthday and goes to get politely killed! And you're wearing his butt feathers in your hair?  Ladies... won't you please think of the chickens? Oh, the humanity! What's next, literal pig-tails? (Dear PETA, don't even think about it, do know I am mocking you, too!)

Is my amusement here a sin?"The King of Glory" is used in processionals often. Steven Colbert, yes, that Steven Colbert, did the most energetic version that I have EVER seen. Unfortunately images do stick and well... we'll say that I will have to bite my tongue or lip during Mass.


The fact that he's breathless by the end kills me.