July 2006

Such a beautiful word. I’ve only known it (the word, not the behavior) for a year-and-a-half, but it entered my vocabulary at a time when I needed explicit assurance from a neutral source — for perhaps the first time — that it was legitimate for me to be a weirdo.

Don’t worry — I’m fine with myself now; and how entertaining my quirks are, and pretty proud of myself for only subjecting others to them in measured doses. (If you’re reading this, you can probably even relate somewhat!)

I still haven’t gotten through Flaherty’s, The Midnight Disease, but I’ll likely revisit it. The way today unfolded made me think of it. What attracted me to it, as a read, was not that it focused on something relevant to me personally, but that it was also geared to using the outliers to shed light on issues that affect just about everyone.


It’s been better the past two days. Pretty much. I think. No–I kinda forget. Takes a bit to hit the stride again, but it’s always right around the bend, or the next one, for sure.
I just wanted to disclose that, “slow day,” is przybysz-speak for a string of consecutive moments characterized by an internal dialogue consisting of, “oh yeah, I’m not as strong as the Bionic Woman.”

It’s never a matter of being bored. No worries.
Maybe some pain, maybe some nausea, but it’s all relative, and not necessarily constraining to one’s humour.

They actually make good days for dozing off, random reading away from screens, viewing the outside through a window, like those kids in that film, who only went outside when it rained that one day a year, or whatever (which sticks in my head like the other reel-to-reel of that witch who made magical blueberry pancakes to win over the kids, and then that one where the dude could only use everything once, and then dispose of it, and took us on a tour of the toothbrush factory, and then the other one with the granny robot who could pour orange juice or milk from her arm/finger* — puzzling!)

Back to a couple projects. Yes, the actual pain tolerance/coping/healing post is still being postponed, as I haven’t located the material I thought was readily accessible. And I know I had some decent stuff from when I thought wrote about the details more, and not so much about how hokey my description of it probably read. Or, really, I don’t know what I’m doing!

And it’s too funny, too, because reading the older stuff, when I refer to pain meds and such, they were basically things like medium doses of ibuprofen and such, and I was concerned about becoming dependent upon them and . . . it’s too funny! I am seriously squelching strong urges to add a lot of commentary and such, based on knowing what I know now, applied to what happened then . . . but I think the original stuff, though slow to develop, is better to give contexts for some other emerging themes, and then I never know where stuff is going.

The request line is open.

I thought I knew the secret to music. Then I wasn’t so sure. Can we still continue to enjoy the secret, even if we’re not certain we know the secret?

* I have randomly emulated her, many times, throughout my life while taking a shower. This was a great set-up for subsequent science classes, btw. Meaning an experiment of adhesion (?), not using the shower as one’s la-bor-a-tor-y.

Yes, it took decades of practice, but when I really needed it, I found I could count on it.

Skinning and slicing onions. I always seem to mess it up, and end up taking forever, while making a huge mess.

Not this time! I got it, baby!

What can I say?

It was a slow day, and the sun was beating…

Too hilarious to even attempt putting in words! I’d muck it up.

It’s a Guinness day. Be sure to, “Refresh Your Spirit!”

(The second’s an afterthought, and should the originators of the popularity of the second quote read this, they’ll know they are only linked to the dating terrain of Przybysz’s brain via the HUMOR pathway.)

“No, we weren’t planning to eat anything today.”

You know how you’ll usually write a letter, not think a whole lot of it, and maybe not even date it–or think that putting the day of the week is sufficient? (Maybe that was an 80s — er, 1980s — phenomenon?)

<>Friends and parents: If you’re going to write a letter to a kid at camp, a kid who’s somewhat likely to save that letter but not it’s post-marked/dated envelope, then please include a bit more than just the day of the week. I think this falls under the, “teach the children well,” category.
At least I know it was between June and August. I suppose I may be able to narrow it down if the perpetual calendar is on my side.

“The 21st century’s yesterday.”

“Today is tomorrow.”

ONE of the most brilliantly crafted songs I know.

Sometimes (Lester Piggot)

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