George Clooney and his girlfriend have split up after a year of dating.
George, please, it's about time. You are old enough to be her father. Was she even allowed to watch TV when you were on Facts of Life in the 80s? There are so many available, beautiful, interesting, intelligent, hardworking, and mature women who would appreciate your company.
You can pick me up on Friday at 7 p.m. I'll be ready.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Saturday, May 24, 2008
How a brain functions...autism?
Jill Bolte Taylor got a research opportunity few brain scientists would wish for: She had a massive stroke, and watched as her brain functions -- motion, speech, self-awareness –- shut down one by one. An astonishing story.
http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/229
(available at www.TED.com)
I've watched this video two times already today, and I'll probably watch it several more times. My brother Greg sent the link to me. Sometimes, he sends me scary and weird things, but this one is a gem. I started to watch it and called my 13-year-old into the room to watch it with me. I asked my Mother to watch it. (I think she was slightly skeptical and that it made her sad.) I sent the link to some family/friends and to teachers of my 9-year-old daughter who has autism.
My intent was to show a glimpse into my daughter's head. Here, in the video, an educated adult explains how hard it is to think when there's been a trauma to your brain (in the scientist's case, a stroke; in Sophie's case, vaccine damage). She also explains vividly how each hemisphere thinks differently.
I think that my autie-girl thinks in some of those same ways.
Even though I shared the link with others, the video is still in my head. I just really needed to pick it apart and talk more about it. So, I'm watching it again, and making notes here. My comments in italics.
Jill the scientist's interest stemmed from her brother's schizophrenia. She said that he could not connect his dream into reality.
People say that autistics live in their own worlds.
Jill says that the two sides of the brain are completely separate, but communicate. They process things differently; they have different personalities.
Autistics process ideas differently than non-autistics.
The right hemisphere is about right here and now. It learns through our bodies, movement, energy. Our senses!
Sophie learns best by doing, not being being told how to do something. She wants things now, when she wants them. Patience was not easy, but she has learned to have some.
The left hemisphere thinks linearly, about the past and the future. It takes the collage of the present moment and organizes it.
Sophie needs time to process and organize all those floating details.
The left side thinks in language.
Sophie thinks in pictures.
It's the voice that says I am separate from the world and others in it.
Sophie thinks that we are here to serve her, that we should know what she wants, what she is thinking.
Jill describes the way that she viewed her body during the beginning of her stroke. Her reality had shifted that she was part of some larger space, that she is moving in slow motion, that she lost her balance, that she cannot define the boundaries of her body. Her body was blended with inanimate space.
Sophie does not have good control over her large motor skills or her fine motor skills. She is strong, but does not know her own strength. (I think that Bambam from the Flintstones was autistic.) She can run fast, but might stumble. It's taken years, but she can use scissors. She cannot color within the lines though.
Jill was, at one point, in her silent mind, but was captivated by the energy around her.
Sophie loves the world around, maybe because she sees herself as part of it, a fast car ride on a sunny day filled with shadows, a blustery day of leaves twirling and twittering, the chaos of books, movies, toys, blankets, scarves scattered haphazardly about her room, and her favorite... the twirl and glimmer of beads as they extend from her hand in the most creative and natural way.
Jill said the right side sees/feels euphorically.
Autistics sometimes laugh and giggle and get excited for no apparent reason that a non-autistic can detect.
It Jill 45 minutes to figure out how to call her office for help.
Autistics need time to process.
When Jill woke up at the hospital, her sensory system was overloaded. Light burned her eyes. Sounds were so loud that she could not pick out a specific voice. She couldn't identify her body in the space.
I think that sometimes, Sophie becomes overloaded. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. She covers her ears. She consistently requests that I rub her arms and legs. Maybe so she knows where they are?
Thinking with the right side is peaceful.
Autistics do not lie or cheat.
If you could choose how your brain functioned, which side would be dominant?
http://www.ted.com/talks/view/id/229
(available at www.TED.com)
I've watched this video two times already today, and I'll probably watch it several more times. My brother Greg sent the link to me. Sometimes, he sends me scary and weird things, but this one is a gem. I started to watch it and called my 13-year-old into the room to watch it with me. I asked my Mother to watch it. (I think she was slightly skeptical and that it made her sad.) I sent the link to some family/friends and to teachers of my 9-year-old daughter who has autism.
My intent was to show a glimpse into my daughter's head. Here, in the video, an educated adult explains how hard it is to think when there's been a trauma to your brain (in the scientist's case, a stroke; in Sophie's case, vaccine damage). She also explains vividly how each hemisphere thinks differently.
I think that my autie-girl thinks in some of those same ways.
Even though I shared the link with others, the video is still in my head. I just really needed to pick it apart and talk more about it. So, I'm watching it again, and making notes here. My comments in italics.
Jill the scientist's interest stemmed from her brother's schizophrenia. She said that he could not connect his dream into reality.
People say that autistics live in their own worlds.
Jill says that the two sides of the brain are completely separate, but communicate. They process things differently; they have different personalities.
Autistics process ideas differently than non-autistics.
The right hemisphere is about right here and now. It learns through our bodies, movement, energy. Our senses!
Sophie learns best by doing, not being being told how to do something. She wants things now, when she wants them. Patience was not easy, but she has learned to have some.
The left hemisphere thinks linearly, about the past and the future. It takes the collage of the present moment and organizes it.
Sophie needs time to process and organize all those floating details.
The left side thinks in language.
Sophie thinks in pictures.
It's the voice that says I am separate from the world and others in it.
Sophie thinks that we are here to serve her, that we should know what she wants, what she is thinking.
Jill describes the way that she viewed her body during the beginning of her stroke. Her reality had shifted that she was part of some larger space, that she is moving in slow motion, that she lost her balance, that she cannot define the boundaries of her body. Her body was blended with inanimate space.
Sophie does not have good control over her large motor skills or her fine motor skills. She is strong, but does not know her own strength. (I think that Bambam from the Flintstones was autistic.) She can run fast, but might stumble. It's taken years, but she can use scissors. She cannot color within the lines though.
Jill was, at one point, in her silent mind, but was captivated by the energy around her.
Sophie loves the world around, maybe because she sees herself as part of it, a fast car ride on a sunny day filled with shadows, a blustery day of leaves twirling and twittering, the chaos of books, movies, toys, blankets, scarves scattered haphazardly about her room, and her favorite... the twirl and glimmer of beads as they extend from her hand in the most creative and natural way.
Jill said the right side sees/feels euphorically.
Autistics sometimes laugh and giggle and get excited for no apparent reason that a non-autistic can detect.
It Jill 45 minutes to figure out how to call her office for help.
Autistics need time to process.
When Jill woke up at the hospital, her sensory system was overloaded. Light burned her eyes. Sounds were so loud that she could not pick out a specific voice. She couldn't identify her body in the space.
I think that sometimes, Sophie becomes overloaded. She squeezed her eyes shut tight. She covers her ears. She consistently requests that I rub her arms and legs. Maybe so she knows where they are?
Thinking with the right side is peaceful.
Autistics do not lie or cheat.
If you could choose how your brain functioned, which side would be dominant?
Memorial Day (Weekend)
At work yesterday, a few people asked me what my big plans for the weekend are.
Well, I do realize that for most people Memorial Day is day off work, and I am not complaining about that! Most folks plan to go up north or to the lake or to have big barbecue in their own backyard. As well they should! We all work hard enough during the week and deserve a mini-holiday.
However, some seemed surprised when I said my only real plan is what I plan every year at this time...to go to the cemetery. This morning, I'll take my daughters and pick up my Mother. She's bought a few plants, and we'll place them on the graves of people we remember. This is in preparation for the actual day. Today, we'll visit each family member, and it'll be light-hearted. We'll be doing something, and Hannah will be asking questions, trying to remember where some of the older relatives are.
On Monday, I'll go by the cemetery again. But then, I will go to my Dad's grave, and place my hand on my heart and I will remember and pray.
We remember how you loved us to Your death,
And still we celebrate for You are with us here.
And we believe that we will see You when you come in Your glory, Lord.
We remember, we celebrate, we believe!
Well, I do realize that for most people Memorial Day is day off work, and I am not complaining about that! Most folks plan to go up north or to the lake or to have big barbecue in their own backyard. As well they should! We all work hard enough during the week and deserve a mini-holiday.
However, some seemed surprised when I said my only real plan is what I plan every year at this time...to go to the cemetery. This morning, I'll take my daughters and pick up my Mother. She's bought a few plants, and we'll place them on the graves of people we remember. This is in preparation for the actual day. Today, we'll visit each family member, and it'll be light-hearted. We'll be doing something, and Hannah will be asking questions, trying to remember where some of the older relatives are.
On Monday, I'll go by the cemetery again. But then, I will go to my Dad's grave, and place my hand on my heart and I will remember and pray.
We remember how you loved us to Your death,
And still we celebrate for You are with us here.
And we believe that we will see You when you come in Your glory, Lord.
We remember, we celebrate, we believe!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Air Exchangers?
Anyone know anything about air exchangers between connecting buildings?
I have a 20 mph (estimated, maybe exaggerated, but definitely annoying) wind blowing on the back of me all day long.
My skin is drier than it's been since I had a gall bladder.
I cannot breathe through my nose.
My eyes are dry.
My ears are plugged from the constant noise. (It sounds like a cold, winter wind blowing in the middle of a dark night.)
My hands get so cold that I can barely type.
I am in sensory overload. Sensory overload causes lack of focus. What was I talking about? Oh...
I was really looking forward to being so, so, so productive in my new cube/pod space. I don't know why it's so hard to get someone to take this seriously. You'd think that creating a non-offensive workspace would be a reasonable request.
I get the standard, pat answer, "We've checked, and everything is fine. "
When did they check? I haven't seen anyone checking anything around here during the work day.
Oh, how I long for the open, fresh air of Oklahoma! (Maria showed me a blog (http://thepioneerwoman.com/confessions/) with Oklahoman Rancher, who is looking for a new wife. hehehe)
I have a 20 mph (estimated, maybe exaggerated, but definitely annoying) wind blowing on the back of me all day long.
My skin is drier than it's been since I had a gall bladder.
I cannot breathe through my nose.
My eyes are dry.
My ears are plugged from the constant noise. (It sounds like a cold, winter wind blowing in the middle of a dark night.)
My hands get so cold that I can barely type.
I am in sensory overload. Sensory overload causes lack of focus. What was I talking about? Oh...
I was really looking forward to being so, so, so productive in my new cube/pod space. I don't know why it's so hard to get someone to take this seriously. You'd think that creating a non-offensive workspace would be a reasonable request.
I get the standard, pat answer, "We've checked, and everything is fine. "
When did they check? I haven't seen anyone checking anything around here during the work day.
Oh, how I long for the open, fresh air of Oklahoma! (Maria showed me a blog (http://thepioneerwoman.com/confessions/) with Oklahoman Rancher, who is looking for a new wife. hehehe)
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Magnets
Why is it that what I push away...I attract?
It was always that way. It's like he could feel me pulling away, forgetting, moving on, whatever it was, and that's when he would reach out, pull, or cajole.
Over the last few years, I've deleted thousands and thousands of emails. Just a few nights ago, I finally deleted his cell number from my mobile phone. I deleted him.
So, today, he emails and calls.
So, why didn't his engagement work out? He says it's my fault. Ha!
It's really his insecurity and her insecurity. A matching set of baggage. It had nothing to do with me. They pushed themselves apart. Two of the exact same magnets who pushed apart.
Not me...deleted.
It was always that way. It's like he could feel me pulling away, forgetting, moving on, whatever it was, and that's when he would reach out, pull, or cajole.
Over the last few years, I've deleted thousands and thousands of emails. Just a few nights ago, I finally deleted his cell number from my mobile phone. I deleted him.
So, today, he emails and calls.
So, why didn't his engagement work out? He says it's my fault. Ha!
It's really his insecurity and her insecurity. A matching set of baggage. It had nothing to do with me. They pushed themselves apart. Two of the exact same magnets who pushed apart.
Not me...deleted.
Simple Words = Prayer
My friend Lynne sent me these words in an email message. I found them moving enough to post here:
~~~
To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better.
The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
~~~
Sometimes, simple words can create a prayer.
~~~
To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better.
The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
~~~
Sometimes, simple words can create a prayer.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'
People think that I don't like to hug. I love to hug.
If I were to cry, why would I want a hug? A hug would make me feel weak and make me cry harder...if I wasn't ready for it.
If I were in the privacy of my own home with someone I trusted or a hunky dude, then a hug would be good. My ex-dysfunction used to give me shoulder-time when I was upset. I liked shoulder-time. I loved it. I miss it. I'd like shoulder-time with a new man. Tenderness.
When my Dad walked me down the aisle, he patted my hand the whole way. I'm not sure if he was nervous or thought I was. Affection.
When my Dad died, I still remember the hugs from family and friends. I can still feel them, physically feel their arms around me. Comfort.
I get/give friendly hugs from/to friends I've known for 25 years. Those are nice. I trust those hugs. Trust.
The hugs when my Sister and her family are leaving after a visit are a way to hold onto them until the next visit. Kalli squeezes. Tyler pats my back. When I try to think of the description of my sister's hug, it hurts too much for words. Commitment.
I hug my daughters. True Love.
Today at work, some guy was talking to me and another woman. He said something about giving out free foot rubs, but how I wouldn't want one, because I don't like to be touched. Dude! What the French, Toast?
If anything, I tend to crave sensory input, like Sophie does. I love to get massages, manicures, pedicures. I'm not ticklish. I love to get my feet rubbed. I have a bumpy footstool at work so that I can take my shoes off and rub my own socked feet. It's a great stress-reliever.
However, to the point, and of course, I make light of it, because that's what I do. If some hottie were to give me a hug out of the blue when I was unprepared, I'd probably implode. Don't tease a girl with a sip of water when there's no well in sight. Seriously, I'd probably melt to the ground and cry in want of someone to hold me.
If I were to cry, why would I want a hug? A hug would make me feel weak and make me cry harder...if I wasn't ready for it.
If I were in the privacy of my own home with someone I trusted or a hunky dude, then a hug would be good. My ex-dysfunction used to give me shoulder-time when I was upset. I liked shoulder-time. I loved it. I miss it. I'd like shoulder-time with a new man. Tenderness.
When my Dad walked me down the aisle, he patted my hand the whole way. I'm not sure if he was nervous or thought I was. Affection.
When my Dad died, I still remember the hugs from family and friends. I can still feel them, physically feel their arms around me. Comfort.
I get/give friendly hugs from/to friends I've known for 25 years. Those are nice. I trust those hugs. Trust.
The hugs when my Sister and her family are leaving after a visit are a way to hold onto them until the next visit. Kalli squeezes. Tyler pats my back. When I try to think of the description of my sister's hug, it hurts too much for words. Commitment.
I hug my daughters. True Love.
Today at work, some guy was talking to me and another woman. He said something about giving out free foot rubs, but how I wouldn't want one, because I don't like to be touched. Dude! What the French, Toast?
If anything, I tend to crave sensory input, like Sophie does. I love to get massages, manicures, pedicures. I'm not ticklish. I love to get my feet rubbed. I have a bumpy footstool at work so that I can take my shoes off and rub my own socked feet. It's a great stress-reliever.
However, to the point, and of course, I make light of it, because that's what I do. If some hottie were to give me a hug out of the blue when I was unprepared, I'd probably implode. Don't tease a girl with a sip of water when there's no well in sight. Seriously, I'd probably melt to the ground and cry in want of someone to hold me.
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