Me, Myself, and the Voices in My Head

A place to ramble and maybe make some sense about a thing or two.

First things first: The Ground Rules

Well, actually, the ground is pretty cool and everything.  I mean, when I drop something it’s the first place I look for it.  And it’s got the ability to keep us from falling through to the molten center of the Earth.  There’s usually some grass or weeds or tarmac of some sort on it and occasionally there will be beautiful trees and/or flowers growing out of it.  I kill plastic plants, so I wouldn’t know much about that.

But this isn’t an Ode du Terra Firma.  The ground “rules” but I also find that I cannot slight the sky any praise or gratification.  It’s usually the one that causes my problems with rain, sleet, hail, snow, meteors, etc.  So, I won’t be going on and on about the ground in this post.

This actually is about the Rules for my blog.  For those who do know me, you’re very familiar with my penchant for obtaining any copy of the rules in advance to whatever activity it is in which I’ll be participating and ensuring that everyone knows said rules before beginning.  I don’t like to think of myself as a “Rules Nazi” (to use a phrase from my old roleplaying days used to describe someone who would never give an inch on any decision or would quote the rules chapter-and-verse just because they could); however, the phrase has been tossed around in my direction a time or two.  I believe that I have German ancestry, based on hearsay from family members, and it could be one of the reasons I’m so literal and expect precision.  I’m a very organized unorganized person.  As Eddie Izzard said in “Dress to Kill,” the Germans were very “Eins, zwei, eins, zwei — very, very Prussian.”  And, being an obsessive-compulsive person, I enjoy having that strict way of doing things.  If you look at what I’m doing (or what’s left over after I’m finished) you would probably say to yourself something more along the lines regarding how my workspace is similar to a porcine living area.  Or even perhaps that an explosive device had gone off in the near vicinity and what fallout there was is all over my desk.  I know where my stuff is and if it’s moved, then I’m no longer organized and that won’t do at all.

Because this is supposed to be an experience more than an assignment; an adventure more than a chore; or even something entertaining rather than….well….utter nonsense, I must have some rules about it.  It’s not that I can’t live without rules.  I just choose not to because it was drilled in my head as a child that Rule #1 was always to find or make the rules before doing anything else.

However, these rules aren’t strictly for me.  They’re my rules and I can darned well change, bend or break any and all as I see fit.  Perhaps they’re more “guidelines” than rules, per se.  But you, dear reader(s), must understand the method to my madness and why things are done they way they are.  It won’t do to have things untidy and many pleasant and unpleasant surprises will arise throughout the publishing if my train of thought.  So, these are the things you need to know:

1.  I only write from the truth.  It may be the truth as I see it, but that’s what matters.  No, I do not intend to debate the very existence or non-existence of every questionable subject that Man today seems to delight in beating to death.  And when I write about something in the past, it will be the truth as I remember it.  Now, that’s not to say that I’m going to lie about things.  I certainly won’t do that.  Well, I won’t intentionally lie about something.  I may accidentally mis-remember something.  You see, when you’ve lived the kind of life I’ve had and tried to learn and remember all of the things you see, hear and do, it can be easy to forget something or perhaps transpose it into another account.  Plus, when you’re getting older, you take medications of all sorts, and your brain has plenty of people up there fighting for space, things can get jumbled or deleted by accident.  Or on purpose if it was something horrid.  I like to say that I have a photographic memory but I’m just out of film.  Of course, that joke was funnier when we used to have film and those of you reading this who are baffled by my comparison, you’re probably too young to be here anyway without your parents’ permission.

2.  Names will be changed to protect the innocent.  Many of you know who Husband, Eldest Son and Youngest Son are.  For those who are new to this party, their true identities shall remain hidden for their own….well….not protection, unless it’s embarrassment we’re protecting them from, and then that fits quite properly.  Other characters you may meet are family members who will be referred to by their pseudonym-of-record, friends, acquaintances, co-workers, total strangers, and passersby on the street.  Now, if you’re becoming nervous because you might fit into one of those categories, rest assured that you will be assigned a pseudonym unless you’re someone incredibly famous that has given me permission to speak directly about them (or not and my ego is just dropping names).  Otherwise, if you see me going on a rant about someone or an event where there were other people involved and it doesn’t sound pleasant but you’re pretty sure that I’m referring to you in some way, you have deniability because I’ve not said exactly who you are.  Even if that only lasts a short time.

And on that subject, I don’t plan for this to be a gossip blog.  I don’t plan to sit and have my pity parties here.  This is just a way for me to express myself through the release of feelings, memories, and experiences.  If you’re offended by something written here, I might take that as a compliment.  Oh, don’t misunderstand me, though — I don’t mean that I’d be happy to cause anyone harm or discomfort in any way.  But, I do plan to question things and debate ideas and not everyone feels the same way about every subject.  Some are too taboo to discuss.  Some are considered inappropriate regardless of the time or setting.  I say “Bollocks!” to that!  If we all have to keep censoring ourselves just so we can feel accepted in this vast, anonymous and nearly made-up society, then what’s the point?  But it does lead me to my next rule:

3.  Comments are welcome but not required.  If you agree or disagree with something, feel free to say so.  However, you MUST be civil about it.  There will be no name-calling, no threats, no picking on each other, and certainly no dancing around with your thumbs in your ears, waggling your fingers and blowing raspberries.  I won’t allow it.  I get enough drama in my day from television and Congress; I won’t have it here.  Is that a restriction on your freedom of speech?  You betcha!  Just remember, this is my territory and I’ll govern it as seen fit.  I wasn’t elected to this position and you can’t throw me out, so let me have my small dictatorship for a while.

4.  If you do take-issue with something I have said and want to correct me or pick an argument, you can do so but don’t be surprised if I don’t answer.  Also, don’t be surprised if I do answer.  My moods swing faster than your underpants hanging on the clothesline during a hurricane.  All I ask is respect and it will be returned in-kind.

5.  There really isn’t a fifth rule.  I’ve just always found that an odd number of rules seems to look better on paper than an even set.  It’s as if it was done by committee and the two prevailing parties wanted to be sure that neither was given that extra little advantage.  That last odd-numbered rule was always the little brother sitting there taunting “I’m not touching you!” to the rest while it usually was one of the more important or relevant rules there.

So, as we all begin this journey into what’s left of my mind and memories as well as topics that happen to fly-up into my face at any given moment that I just MUST comment upon, let’s remember that….remember…..that….

Crap.  It was all there in my head.  So eloquent yet hysterical at the same time.  You see, this is what I suffer.  ADD has got nothing on me.  Remember the movie “Over the Hedge” and Hammy the squirrel drank the equivalent of Red Bull and because he was already so hyper it slowed time to a standstill?  Yeah….Hammy’s my brain.  Just flitting around from whatever shiny thing it finds to the other.  Well, on manic days it is.  Otherwise I liken the slower days to when the hamster is just lying passed-out in the bottom of the wheel that powers my mind.  Poke it with a stick all you like but he ain’t moving.

Anyway, none of this is etched in stone.  It can change any time my mind has a change of, well, mind.  Just beware that there’s not much off-limits here or it wouldn’t be therapeutic.  And I may contradict myself at times as emotions and environments change and whether or not the little hamster wakes up.  As I said before, all of the voices I hear are mine.  I’m just not sure some days how long I can keep them wrangled within their proper places.  So, if you offend easily, you’ve been warned.

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