One definition of the word ethnocentrism from dictionary.com is “a tendency to view alien groups or cultures from the perspective of one’s own.”  I’ve been re-reading David Weber’s Honor Harrington series, and I keep having to revamp my mental picture of some of the characters when I’m reminded (yet again) that some of the characters come from either an Asian or African descent.  My mental picture keeps being skewed by my own experiences.  It’s not anything I’m doing consciously (I’m not making all the enemies of one category, as an example), but my own environment is not diversely rich.

I’m sure I definitely have some “Marie Antoinette” thoughts I’m not even aware of.  I don’t seem to “step outside myself” as well as I thought I might, now that I’m thinking about it.  Actually, now that I AM thinking about it, I’m happy because I know that for me, kids are kids are kids.  I won’t say they are all cute (mostly because of the way their parents are raising them), but show me a guileless kids and my heart melts.

Having pondered this some, I’m sure I have some poor behaviors around expecting people to be smart and polite but it gives me hope that I can appreciate any child.  I may have to change my behavior some to broaden my perceptions some though.  😛

I have one of “those” drawers in the kitchen.  The one where there are quite a few one-purpose items I rarely use.  Like a turkey baster.  Yep, that comes out for Thanksgiving, if I remember and my husband hasn’t already used a gravy ladle to do the same thing.  The potato masher gets a lot of use, as does the garlic press.  (I love my garlic press.)  The apple corer is another keeper as my hands hurt from the apple acid after about the 3rd apple into a 6+ apple pie recipe.  The dough cutter is helpful when I don’t want to use the chef’s knife to pick up stuff.

Then there are all the other things.  Biscuit cutters, which I’ve never used, and probably never will either.  I could probably ditch the wood skewers (didn’t remember I had them in there) and the egg slicer.  Way too many scrapers, including one that the head pops off of.  Three wire whisks.  That third is definitely too much.

This is another one of those places where I could pare down to things that are important.  If I do that enough in all the little spaces, I think I would be amazed at how much space I could reclaim.  Happily, I can usually leave things that are good for someone else in the kitchen at work with a nice “FREE” sticky note by them and they find new homes to either clutter or be useful in.  Not quite “pay it forward” but hopefully I’m cutting down some of the waste in my life while enhancing someone else’s.

What about you?  What’s in your “Everything Else” kitchen drawer and does it really need to be there anymore?

Today is payday and I’m a bit closer to paying off all of my bills.  Not as close as I’d planned, after taking a trip to visit my niece, but I’m working on bringing it down to 0 and then to start saving.  I definitely didn’t have anyone teaching me about how to balance a budget and to be frugal and saving.  I’m glad to see my siblings teaching their children better.  Fortunately, I don’t think it’s too late for me to get my act in gear and plan better for the future.  It would have been a lot easier if I’d started earlier though.

I can recall my parents arguing about money when I was growing up.  How they would spend money without telling each other and be in the hole, that my grandmother would usually dig them out of.  As kids, we’d cringe and hide while they fought.  That was definitely unpleasant and probably part of why I never really addressed the correct financial behavior.  I had (have?) a lot of shame tied up in that feeling of failure.

This is definitely one of the areas I would “do over” if I had the chance.  Another one of those, “If I only knew then what I know now…”  😛

One of my brothers and sisters are going to see a comedian on Saturday night.  There are still opportunities to go to the same event, but I don’t consider the comedian funny enough for the prices being charged.  (Bill Cosby would be worth it to me though.)   Instead, I bought Jim Gaffigan tickets for the summer.  His humor regarding families is right up my alley.

It reminds me of a conversation I had with someone who’s wife was ridiculed once and others joined in the laughter.  (Sounds like high school to me.)  Since that point, she doesn’t think humor is a good thing.  I can understand the sentiment that being the object of ridicule is neither fun nor right, but it seems humor allows things to be said in a less confrontational way than might be possible otherwise.

I recall an interview with Louis CK, where he discussed going on tour for the veterans, especially the wounded.  Everyone would tell him the rules about not talking about their issues and being tasteful, and how he ignored that and made them laugh and how it seemed being humorous about something that would be painful to discuss was helpful.

I think that is very true.  I definitely think humor makes you look at things in a different way and even a way that’s not quite comfortable sometimes.  I have seen it used cruelly but I’ve also shared in a lot of laughs that just feel right.

As I write this, a memory of my niece, holding a plastic ball you can bounce on the walls, squealing with laughter, as I chased her around, saying “Bring that back here.  Give that to me.” while she stayed one step ahead.  Laughter is one of the best parts of my life and I’m glad to be able to indulge daily and in so many ways.

I got a new book last night that I immediately sat down and read.  Didn’t make it through it in one night but close.  It was a good read.  I completely forgot to write in the blog.  So, not good in terms of habit-forming behavior.  Completely understandable if you love reading and one of your favorite authors releases a new book.

This one was a Patricia Briggs novel in the Mercedes Thompson world’s “Alpha & Omega” line.  So werewolves, Fae (magic) and witches.  This line is a lot about 2 characters who are very responsible for keeping evil in check.  They also have a relationship where the balance and enhance each other.  I like that a lot about this line.

I don’t know about you, but a really good book is very satisfying to me.  I almost feel like I’ve mentally “finished eating” when I’m done.  I feel “full” in a way and like I’ve finished chomping my way through something.  Some of my favorite books make me laugh.  Some make me think about things differently.  Some just relax me.

So I can’t promise not to miss another one when I’m lost in a good book but the good ones are rare for me so it shouldn’t be an issue.  Unfortunately.  😛

My brother’s fiancee tagged me in a Facebook picture that I’m not in, so that I’d look at it.  It was a sign (supposedly) from a 2nd grade class thinking that 11 people would see their post. On the side, it said “Please help my students understand about internet safety.”  I Liked and Shared this.  My nieces have (had?) Facebook pages and have written things that could be taken seriously or be taken out of context and misconstrued.  I’d hate to see their future opportunities limited by something they said as kids.

So it’s interesting to start blogging.  At the moment, I don’t think anyone is reading them after I post them.  But it’s still open to the world, so I’m circumspect.  Although I have no idea how long (or how not long) it would take a social engineer to figure out more about me than I intended.

In the last week, I’ve had multiple survey requests from various companies.  One was looking for ideas for new/better products and services that I did not participate in because you relinquish all rights to the ideas.

It got me to thinking about privacy.  I wondered how many people are privately not anywhere near who you think they are in public.  I started thinking about the people who beat their spouse or children.  Drug abuse.  Things like that.

Then I started thinking about people who are lonely.  Or who help so many people, but want to remain anonymous.  Or someone who is introverted; how much no privacy and constant contact with others would make them uncomfortable.

Some of the science fiction I’ve read over the years is set in the context of the Earth populating the entire surface of the planet and people living in vast structures.  One from Issac Asimov has a single person surrounded by robots and miles from the nearest human.  The mere thought of someone being the vicinity of him physically makes him extremely anxious and upset. His only relationship is with a woman he talks to over holographic displays.

Some days I wonder if another Ice Age is imminent and other days, I wonder what direction the future will take.

I’m still checking for grey hairs. I’ve been very fortunate that I have a lovely blonde hair color that is still natural.  My mom and one of my sisters were grey by 30 and it was grey.  My dad had black hair that has turned a pure white.  Although I’m not sure how pure white would look for me, I think I’d prefer it over the grey look.

Hair color is just one of the many gene questions I wonder about.  My mom had breast cancer that she survived for 17 years. She’d also had 3 heart attacks (most women don’t survive 1 let alone 3).  All of my siblings and I sincerely hope we have the rugged persistently stubborn gene that can handle a lot while not actually having any of the health issues she went through. (She smoked and drank a lot.  I only have 1 sibling who smokes and none of us drink alcohol anywhere near her level, so that should help.)

I’ll humbly say that we also have a higher-than-average intelligence level.  (A friend has to remind me that I’m “smarter than the average bear” and to quit expecting them to be so much like me.)  It also seems like we have some biologically based social conditions in the family, such as autism and Asperger Syndrome.

Basically, I’ve lucked out in a lot of ways, but I worry about surprises that may be coming my future.  Like the grey hairs, I keep checking for issues and hoping I won’t ever find any.

Someone recently shared a video with me that talked about doing the important things before the urgent things.  I need to take that to heart in order to write blog updates daily.  I’ve missed two calendar days by waiting until late on Saturday to write this update.  Hopefully I learn this lesson and start putting this 15 minute commitment at the beginning of the day.  Laundry and dishes can wait a while longer and getting this done will give me a different feeling of accomplishment than the “rinse and repeat” of the dishes.  😛

Although I am happy to say I did spend some quality time with my husband, which is THE most important thing I’ve got going on.  There were still a lot of hours in the day to get this done in a timely fashion.  I’ve just got to realize the priority.  Instead, I’ve put it off like it was grocery shopping.  I need a different mindset for this.  It has to FEEL important and it can do that if I MAKE it important, by completing this daily and routinely.

So look for another update in the morning!  See you then.

I have pretty vivid dreams.  I’m not sure how many people remember their dreams, but I remember them a lot and there are times where I’ll do something in my waking state that reminds me of some dream I had. I can even remember when I started to remember my dreams.  (That grammar is redundant but necessary.)

I had heart surgery for a heart defect from birth when I was 3 1/2 years old. (Two values where joined together so they split them and now I have a slight “backwash” slosh sound for that part of my heart; for the left ventricle I think.)

When I was in the third grade, I had a teacher who said to me “My son died of what you had.  The surgery wasn’t available then.”  At 8, I wasn’t very aware and had no idea how much seeing me must have hurt her.  Not long afterwards, she was gone and we had a different teacher who was very loving and sweet.  (And a lot older.  I have lots of memories of that class.)

For a while, I kept having dreams and some of them were the same dreams.  I dreamt of a townhouse with a creek by it and a large dome-shaped monkey-bars set.  I dreamt about a church where there were pies in the front of the church.  And I dreamt about being a hospital.

About being in a crib and my dad sleeping on a foldout bed in the same room, with a window looking out.  The time I had a hot dog with peas next to it and chocolate milk.  About the bathroom that was between my room and the next room, with orange walls.  About a grey-green bathtub in the center of a room tiled in that same color and about the hexagon shape on the bottle of soap they used.  About my last day there and the walk I took around the floor and the people that I saw (someone in traction and a couple visiting a baby in an incubator).  Also about the drive home (this was Texas) and how flat and empty the landscape looked.

I also dreamt of waking up one night and not finding Dad sleeping there when I needed to go to the bathroom.  A nurse heard me and helped me and then she played cards with me until her shift change.  The last card on the deck (Old Maid) was Hewey the Duck wearing a bonnet and diaper.

Finally I asked my mom, “Have we ever been to a church that has cakes and pies in the front?”  She said that I used to take the bus there after kindergarten sometimes.  I told her about the other dreams and she said “You are just remembering things I told you.”  I said I didn’t think she’d told me about the bathroom, since she wasn’t there in my dreams.  After that, I realized I had dreamed of things that had happened when I was younger (lol since I was 8).

I found out later that I’d probably forgotten the details of the hospital stay because of the trauma (you didn’t let kids know what to expect, back in my day) and that the conversation with the teacher triggered it.  Since then, I remember a lot of details to my dreams, although from that point, dreams were mostly not like real life.

At some point, I’ll talk more about my dreams, and some of the other revelations I’ve gotten from them.  I’m going back to bed now.  Night!

I remember watching an Antique Roadshow, where someone had a collection of their grandfather’s journals.  He was in the Civil War and added journal entries every day, without fail.  It was given a very high value because of the consistency, and the insight into life at the time.  He had an entry for when President Lincoln was shot.

That thought has stayed with me, and it’s part of why I’ve started to blog.  I may not say much every day (although I will probably say too much instead), but I think it would be important to write down something each day.

Today I had a positive experience with a group of women at work.  I recently suggested taking some chocolate into your annual review, so you have something soothing and something that will give you a moment to think. I changed my mind.  Take in really good caramel because it will take longer to melt, allowing more time to just process your emotional reaction.  Definitely take enough to share.

(A previous boss loved Thin Mints.  I delivered a sleeve of them right before he wrote my review. He laughed at the obvious pandering but kept the cookies. To be honest, I’d earned a good review but it was fun to make him laugh while he was struggling to get a slew of them written.)

There!!! Ten minutes to midnight and I’ve finished the blog for today. ❤