Everybody, please remain calm…

A Zen Frog

A very calm frog

You would think, given the number of times that particular phrase has induced a screaming, pushing, shoving, panicking crowd attempting to flee from whatever nebulous danger they perceive in the group-mind, that officials, law enforcement, politicians, parents, and Hollywood would have written off this string of 4 words as a REALLY BAD IDEA.

In fact, I believe my heart rate just jumped, and a surge of adrenalin just shot through my system just WRITING the words on my page.

Net Stampede not intentional…

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I lost…my ring.

**sob**

That ring has been on my finger for 20+ years.  The only time I ever take it off is when I’m getting my hands into something sticky (bread dough, cookie dough, dumpling dough), smelly (hair dye, tie-dye, glass etching), or very chemical-ish (cleaning things that are REALLY gross…).

It’s extremely unsettling to have something that has been on your person for 2+ DECADES turn up missing – there’s a lot of personal energy in that thin band of platinum – and I just can’t look at my right hand without that bare finger glaring at me.

I can’t remember where I put the thing!

I remember taking it off – we had moved furniture all around the apartment.  My dresser ended up in my closet.  My recliner ended up in my bedroom, my bed got moved, the computers got rearranged, the living room was adjusted, the former computer desk got relocated to the kitchen, and now holds the microwave.

We celebrated this overdose of re-furnishing the apartment with homemade pizzas – fresh bread dough for the crust, whatever toppings pleased you, and baked on the new pizza stone.

Because I was involved with a sticky, doughy substance, off came the ring.

Now, usually, when I take off my ring in the kitchen, it goes on top of the microwave.  It has since I signed the lease.  but the microwave moved,  so I can’t remember WHERE I though it would be safe enough to reside until I slipped it back on my finger.

And now – it’s as good as lost…somewhere in the apartment…destined to become a SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURESkitty play-thing until it’s batted under either the fridge or stove, or lost in the couch, or hidden somewhere else.

It’s amazing how many hiding places a 1 bedroom apartment can have when the object being hidden is tiny, and fur-covered feet are involved in its movement.

So, in remembrance of my shiny little buddy – I’m gonna tell a story about it, and why it resided on the middle finger of my right hand…

The simple, common, and ‘normal’ reason for a plain silvery ring living on that finger:   It’s the only finger that fits.

The ‘other’ reason?  It’s the first EX’s (note, this is NOT the Wuzband – whom I still get along with, as long as we’re not married) wedding band.

When the marriage ended, he wanted to exchange rings back – why?  Maybe he thought he’d look good in a woman’s wedding band?  Maybe he wanted it for the next Mrs. Ex, Ex – or maybe he decided to sell it off…at that point, I just didn’t care.  There were a gross metric ton of reasons why that marriage fell apart, this was just the icing on the smashed wedding cake.

Does a more perfect reason to wear a ring on your MIDDLE finger exist?

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All the People…all the time

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Seating for one, please?

The Daily Post offered up this nugget of inspiration last week:  when was the last time you felt lonely?

To be perfectly honest here – I can’t remember the last time I felt lonely.  I CAN recall the last time I felt the opposite (over-stimulated, over-socialized, overly-sought-out, over-peopled) because that’s pretty much how I feel all the time.  I’m ALWAYS under-isolated.

There have been plenty of times I’ve wondered:  how many people out there in the world are the same?  Who else out there shares in my craving for solitude?  Anyone else think the mythical old hermit living in an isolated cave has found Utopia?

Although, my Utopia would have to include HVAC and WIFI…

One ‘label’ in particular which really gets under my skin within this society is ‘Anti-Social.’  Granted, labeling different groups of people irritates me in general – but this one particularly rankles because it’s personal.  It points the ‘finger of judgement’ at anyone comfortable enough to spend as much time as possible in the bliss of solitude – delivering a label of deviant, unnatural, or harboring an illness in need of medication.

Bah.  I don’t need medication to become normal – for me, solitude IS normal, and the pursuit of such a worthwhile goal.

Society now calls people such as me introverts, and extends a tentative hand in invitation to come out of our closets.IMG_1012

Why should I?  My closet is one of the few places I can get the solitude I crave…

So, yes, being an introvert is a step up from being judged Anti-Social, but it’s still a label – a societal marker – a way to segregate humans into little slices of humanity – and I still call that wrong.  Stop marginalizing folk based on things. 

We’re all human beings – we are all crafted from the same DNA, generating the same properties in form and function.  One head.  Two eyes.  Two hands.  10 fingers and 10 toes.  Hair color, skin color, short, tall, fat, thin, personality quirks of all degrees – these things are minute variations in the overall form and we really need to start accepting them for the unique markers they are, rather than treating them as major flaws needing to be fixed or deviations that need to be studied.

So I say with aplomb – stop trying to study me, stop trying to understand me, and stop trying to ‘fix’ me.  I’m not broken, I’m not deviant, and I’m not flawed.

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THIS is why I don’t do ‘selfies’

I’m just me.