It is supposedly group photo day today at work. It’s time I finally revealed that I’m a superhero. My cat Güino refused to put on his tiny little cape for the picture! Yes, superheroes wear glasses too.
Group Picture Today!
Category Archives: Personal
Unbearable Certainty
I walked into the E-Z Mart store with very few collected small winning lottery tickets from swinging for the fences with the impossible Megamillions and Powerball.
Instead of taking the cash, I told the clerk, “No, I’d like them back in $1 fast-play lottery tickets. I’m feeling very lucky today. I know I’m going to win.”
She laughed and smiled.
“No, I’m serious. It’s time. Remember? A plane will fall on you on a long enough timeline, and you might win the lottery.”
“Well, remember who sold them to you when you win.”
She printed off the tickets. I was shorted 3. While I was standing to the left of the register, I looked at the very first printed ticket.
Though you think I’m joking, the first line of the first ticket was a winner. Had I bought a higher denomination ticket, the amount would have been five times what I won. To think I’d have to work almost ninety hours to net that much money is preposterous.
The clerk is a believer now.
I’ve never had to file a claim form with the lottery. What I won won’t be enough to make much of a dent in my debt. But there’s no better feeling than to waste a tiny bit of money to get such a return. I haven’t gone to a casino or wasted my money gambling on anything substantive since very early 2021. Living single without a roommate and having emergency surgery tends to take the money out of your pocket.
Do you want to hear something even crazier?
I’m going to win something even bigger. I hope the work crew I throw in each week will win, just like everyone else buying tickets foolishly. I can’t imagine a better, more satisfying irony than to work like a mule for 18 years being eclipsed by something as impractical and impossible as a lottery. I’d love to look around at people and just experience the moment of incredulity. If such an impossible outcome ever happens, I’m going to need to block the work doors to prevent them from stampeding out of there.
Today, I won “a” lottery. A small one. It didn’t hurt my afternoon feelings at all.
I included a screenshot of an email I sent myself on Sept. 18th.
Love, X
Still Flying
Another coincidence for my Saturday back in September 1991. Each year, I hold my breath, expecting another wrinkle to reach me. Most years, it’s silent. But I’ve had a few that bring new information or entirely another perspective. It’s been 32 years. I’ve abandoned the idea that the coincidences will ever stop coming. The first true website came out in August 1991. Prior to that, only nerds used the nascent internet to connect via forums and text-based interaction. This year, someone linked a previously hidden Google directory of discussions related to my memorable Saturday September morning. I read all of it that was available to me this morning at 1 a.m.
Because of the way my labyrinth brain works, it made me want to sit and read “Juan Salvador Gaviota” (Jonathan Livingston Seagull) in Spanish. Every time I get another copy, someone who hasn’t read it pops into my life, and I give it to them, knowing they will experience something wonderful when they read it for the first time. When I was learning Spanish proficiently, it was one of the few books that ignited the possibility of thinking in another language. “Prince of Tides” was another one. (“El Principe de Las Mareas,” which sounds much more exotic to me.) Another one was “Your Erroneous Zones,” by Wayne Dyer, a book that fell into my hands by fortuitous accident after another house fire while I was in junior high school. Though not directly connected, Dyer’s book connected me to the same metaphysical ideas that Richard Bach wrote about in “Jonathan Livingston Seagull.”
Jonathan Livingston Seagull is an allegory about flying – and about life’s hidden meaning, one usually reserved for the outliers.
Maybe Joe Frasca is spending his eternity doing acrobatics. I hope so. If so, I’m envious of the fact that he is up there, looking down on the topography we experience mostly in two dimensions.
Love, X
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Fortuitous
“The world won’t treat you better just because you’re a good person.”
It’s a nice reminder. The corollary to this is also true:
“Just because you’re a bad person doesn’t mean you will ever suffer the consequences for it.”
Even if you do everything right, you might still fail.
And if you do a buffet of stupid things, the odds grow increasingly against you.
Then there’s fate, luck, or whatever you might label it. Despite it all, I’m lucky.
On the anniversary day of my emergency surgery, I changed my desktop monitor wallpaper to the first picture I snapped once I realized I was not in purgatory. (Admittedly, my presence in the hospital bed might qualify. Both for me and the people supposed to be caring for me.) I’m not sure how many times over the intervening days I’ve stopped and looked at the picture.
Oddly, it mostly stopped me from saying, “Time is short,” with such frequency. It definitely has not abated the mental recitation. It had to have been in my subconscious the other day when I sprinted past a safety point for my body. It didn’t occur to me that perhaps my explanation for why I had several 200+ floor days on my Fitbit should be attributed to it.
I spent too much time thinking about September 28th, 1991 as well. And about the two terrible head traumas I had as a child. I’m not including the punches from hands that should not have inflicted such anger. Those hands grew silent, as happens to all of us.
What’s my point? I don’t have one. There may well not be one, and I’m okay with that.
Love, X
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Cats: 3, X:0
Evidently, today is the day for feline revolution.
I got up super early as I always do and went into Erika’s living room in darkness to fetch my clothes from the back of the couch. As I put on layers, something seemed off. By the time I threw my shirt on, I realized in horror that I felt wet. I stood there about 30 seconds, my mind attempting to correlate the wetness. And then I realized that either Acorn or Meatball (or both?) had taken advantage of one of their night time perches to disgorge on my nearby clothes. I evaluated my options and finally stripped down. Skulking around in the dark, I retrieved my haircut towel from the laundry hamper, loosely held it around my waist, and retrieved the ball of wet clothing. I scurried across to my apartment feeling like the cats were laughing at me.
It gets better! Once inside my apartment, I dropped the towel and my clothes. Because my cat Güino has me trained, I walked over to give him treats before anything else. And realized I had walked through clear cat vomit in the darkness of my kitchen apartment. I put down paper towels temporarily. As I attempted to walk away, the paper towels stuck to the bottom of my left foot like industrial glue. Extricating myself from that, I threw my clothes in my laundry and walked back to the living room. I bet you can guess what happened next? Going in front of the cat tower, I stepped in my cat’s other offering in the middle of the living room floor. And then repeated the same stupid fly trap dance with more paper towels. No need for stretching this morning. The paper towel dance limbered me up nicely.
The cats sometimes occasionally vomit. How in the world they all aligned perfectly for my early Monday morning is anyone’s guess.
Before I left for work, I asked my cat if he had any other surprises for me or if perhaps he got my extra car keys and threw up in the driver seat.
Since the cat revolution has already started, It will be too late for you by the time you read this. I apologize on behalf of all the cats for your sticky feet. We’re lucky they do not have opposable thumbs.
X
Beautiful Melancholy
I’m not supposed to express confusing emotions on social media. I mixed an errand with an early morning walk. That was my intention. But I ended up sprinting. I waited until each breath was more difficult and then my Fitbit began to alarm, flash, and vibrate. Of course I kept going. Even harder. As often happens when you’re pushing past your natural limit, I hit the void point. For those of you who’ve never experienced it, it’s very similar to being on a jet with a steep incline that suddenly pops through the clouds. When I stopped running and resumed walking, it was impossible to look at the sunrise in the same way. Stunning. There was also a tinge of melancholy. Because I wanted so badly to turn to someone with a pointed finger, “OMG. Look!” It’s possible that they might just acknowledge such an obvious observation with a nod. Mundane sights transformed are one of my secret joys. Perhaps it might not have been so beautiful had my brain not been soaked in adrenaline.
PS I included a couple from last night because the light and color was a cliché of color.
Love, X
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Two Parts
Two Parts
If you’re going to prank people with hidden index cards…write “3 of 7” on one of them. Even if you only leave three hidden. I give you my personal guarantee that it will never occur to them that you did not leave 7 of them. Somewhere!
I went down the deep part of the creek because of the recent rains. The passersby and the background traffic receded and conceded to the bubble and roar of the creek. I spent more than an hour down in the valley where the creek dipped and pooled. I moved almost a ton of rocks for my own amusement. I walked across the fallen tree that spanned the creek. And I tried to climb a couple of the vines hanging to the bed. Worn out, I took my shirt off and lay in the cold water – and looked up into the sky above the canopy. The sun came and went, creating shadows and rainbows atop the rock crests jutting from the water.
I needed it, a connection, even if it were the cousin of such connection, which is silence in one’s mind.
X
N o w
Time Blindness Paradox
I’ll do it when I’m not so busy.
I’ll do it when I’m not tired.
I’ll do it when I have more time.
I’ll do it when I have more money.
I’ll do it when I’m in better shape.
I’ll do it when work slows down.
No.
You won’t.
Anything important or meaningful that you’re putting off right now?
It’s likely to be undone.
You think because you’ve had time until now, that there is still sand waiting to fall.
My enduring September lesson: you can’t sustainably live like there’s no tomorrow. But you also can’t really live until you remember that there might not be one.
Love, X
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Burned Delight
When I moved a little over 2 years ago, I left behind the special oven I bought to make a wild assortment of vegetables. When I devoted myself to losing the equivalent of 12 gallons of weight, I ate bushels of vegetables, each cooked differently with spices.
Yesterday, Erika opened up the beast in me when she deliberately overcooked tomato slices in the oven. I could have devoured 16 tomatoes cooked that way.
This morning, I cleaned and overbaked a container of Japanese shishoto peppers. I seasoned them with garlic and ranch.
While most people do not like charred flavor, for me it is sublime. And it reminds me of when I was very young and acquired a taste for burned things. One of my favorite jokes is that I loved charred food, while my Mom enjoyed burning our houses down.
If my neighbors below me are awake, it tickles me to wonder what they think I might be cooking before the sun rises. Given the track record of this neighborhood, at least my cooking efforts are culinary rather than chemical.
I have a batch of two differently flavored sliced apples in the oven now. And sugar cane stalk.
X
Without Criticism We Are All Dinosaurs
tone
It’s no comfort to know this, but if people work to keep you silent, they inadvertently tell you that you have power. Silencing you is an attempt to avoid the consequences of mistreating you or confronting that you’re right about something. (It’s the same in relationships as it is at work.) People without valid points or influence are ignored. People who tell the truth or cause discomfort upset the status quo. Again, it is no consolation. But remember that silencing treatment is a de facto acknowledgment that you’re on the right track. Everything sounds crazy until it becomes the truth. We do not celebrate the people who make us uncomfortable. About our behavior as individuals and certainly not as a group.
While my thoughts aren’t about book banning, the same concept applies. People with the urge to limit content, ideas, and information are admitting that they are afraid of what’s inside. You don’t ban things or ideas that don’t threaten your opinion. It’s usually a nod to the fact that they fully know that much of their opinions and worldview aren’t sustainable under the lens of logic.
No one likes to be wrong.
No one likes having to confront their mistakes.
No one likes being judged for the associations we have: friends, religions, politics, sports, work.
Looking at where we are as people and our lack of focus as a society, the last thing we need is for the outliers to stop pushing our buttons. A therapist once told me that the more we stop hearing criticism, the more in danger we are of being cemented in the past and of playing it safe.
Silencing behavior is the cousin to secrecy. Almost all misbehavior and turmoil derive from secrecy and the lack of transparency. Whether it’s us as a whole or each of us as individuals.
PS I wish it were okay to say, “I think you’re wrong,” without starting a fight. Because we damn well think our friends, family, and coworkers are wrong a LOT. Why isn’t it okay to just admit it? And why can’t we accept this sort of observation for what it is: someone’s opinion. We take everything personally as if we’re surprised that people haven’t had the same lives as us, the same education, the same religion, or the same interpersonal relationships.
X
