Misinterpretation, anyone?

There comes a time when you swim or sink so I jumped in the drink ’cause I couldn’t make myself clear.

Maybe I wrote in invisible ink, oh I’ve tried to think how I could’ve made it appear.
Aimee Mann/Invisible Ink

 

 

Aimee Mann is the Queen of Misunderstanding Angst.

Or maybe she’s  the Queen of all Angst.

(Didn’t you love her when she was on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and performed at the Bronze? Me, too. Also, I miss Buffy.)

But that is not what I want to talk about.

 

I am easily distracted. Did I mention that?

Oh.

Well.

I am.

Squirrel!

 

Misunderstanding. Misreading. Misinterpretation.

Mistakes. Misremembering.

All the shit that goes along with trying to communicate.

It is easy for people to talk, but ohhhh.

Not so easy to make ourselves understood.

Between word choice, inattention and the tricks played by memory, it’s a miracle that anyone understands anything anyone says.

 

Did you all see this article about scientists implanting false memories in mice? I really need to stop reading shit like that. You know that feeling when you just know for certain that something is true? They can reproduce it by putting a certain protein in your brain and then shining a light on it (I am simplifying a bit).  So on top of the problems we already have with communicating, we now have to worry that we’re trying to communicate about something that may not have even happened? That’s all I need. I mean, I know that memory is unreliable, I do, but it’s another thing to have folks working on a how-to.

 

I suppose I can worry about it once scientists have found a less invasive way to shine light into our brains.  At this point it isn’t exactly something your kids will be able to do just to mess you up.

 

 

Watch Aimee sing “Invisible Ink”  if you want…

 

Oh, and many invisible inks will appear if you hold the paper over light.

A lot of things get clearer with light.

Bad skin.

Books.

Flaws in knitting.

 

Thankfully not flaws in logic.

 

If you hold me up to a light, will I be any clearer?

 

 

A very incomplete list of things I am thankful for. Very. Incomplete.

Liquor stores, bars and taverns.  All those pretty bottles  make us feel happier, even if it’s only temporary.  Gratitude extends to beer, wine and all forms of adult beverages consumed in bars or in private residences.

 

Blue skies.

 

Trees.

 

The Pacific Ocean.

 

Books.

 

Music.

 

Music.

 

Books.

 

I know, but I really love books and music.

 

Deep thoughts.

 

Smart phones. Instant gratification on everything I am curious about–and I am curious a LOT.

 

Clouds.

 

Rain. Yes, I did express thanks for blue skies earlier.

 

Nacho Cheese Doritos.

 

Popsicles.

 

Asparagus.

 

Coffee. Oh my gosh, how did coffee not get thanks until this far down the list??

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

 

Music, books, music, books. I can’t let them think I love coffee more.

 

Down comforters in the Winter.

 

Pie.

 

Water.

 

French fries.

 

Ceiling fans.

 

Wool. I can spin it into yarn and then knit and weave garments. You will want to be my friend in the event of an apocalypse.

 

Black eyeliner.

 

Indoor plumbing.

 

Cars.

 

Cute shoes.

 

Northern Italy.

 

Cheese.

 

Pasta.

 

OK let’s just say food and call it good..but especially cheese and pasta. If you had cheese, pasta, coffee, beer and water you would not need a whole lot else. Especially if you knew someone who could knit you wool socks.

 

Fall days where it is just cool enough that you know that you won’t be able to go without a jacket for much longer but you still can.

 

The brassiere.

Air conditioned bedrooms

 

Keyboards/computers. As a leftie, it is wonderful to go through the day without my left hand all smudged. If you write from left to right like we do in English, and hold the pen or pencil in your left hand, it smears through everything you write and leaves the outer edge of your hand all stained. This problem is no longer much of an issue now that we do so much of our writing at a keyboard.

 

Smiling and laughing.

 

Teeth.

 

Clarence and George.

 

Rhett and Scarlett.

 

Hitchcock.

 

The tongue.

 

Amazon.

 

Words.

 

Silence.

 

Hats.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lists.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is it any wonder I reject you first?

Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder, you are too cool to fool.

–David Bowie/Fame

 

Ah, rejection.

So much human behavior is driven by a fear of it,

or because of receiving it.

 

Most of the time rejection sucks.

Sometimes it’s kind of a relief.

Sometimes it is good for you.

 

Like a lot of things, how we react to rejection is a big part of how well we overcome it.

Do we just give up, or do we keep trying?

Do we keep trying the same thing, or do we try something new?

 

Edison was fired from his first few jobs for being unproductive. I hear he overcame that early rejection and  invented some cool stuff later. Edison had the right sort of persistence: he not only kept trying through multiple failures, but kept trying new things.  I am unlike Edison in almost every possible way. (Unlike Edison as a band name? Maybe) I am a wimp about any form of rejection,even the mere possibility of it. Obviously, worrying about rejection that may or may not ever even happen is…sigh…yeah. Just dumb. I know, I know. Working on it. I’d figure out how many things I’ve not done or said in my life out of a fear of rejection but that would be even stupider than having worried about the rejection in the first place. And I hate math. (As well as punctuation, apparently…and when did I start misusing parentheses like this?!?)

 

On the other hand, it’s not good to totally ignore rejection, either. For instance, if you are eternally shot down for the same stupid line you use to pick up women in a bar…well…maybe you should take the rejection under advisement and figure out what it is that we find so objectionable. Is it you personally, or your corny line? Or both? (Taking a moment to give thanks for no longer being of an age and level of attractiveness that makes me a target for these guys)

 

Personal rejection is difficult for me in particular.  Are you a relative who told me that I’m lazy and stupid and will never be able to hold down a job? Yeah. I probably remember that. It motivates me in some ways, and just bugs the crap out of me in others. I can’t really argue with the part about being lazy, because I am.

 

On the plus side, I do get over rejection fairly quickly if it is professional or academic. I find it mildly annoying, if I think I’m right, to have an idea rejected. If I am wrong, I can mostly acknowledge it. Mostly. I don’t enjoy having an idea rejected because it is incorrect, but I do have to admit that I am not always right. And I can practically hear the sniggering! I don’t like to admit I’m wrong, but it does happen.

 

Do I have a point about this? Not really.

 

Just thinking out loud.

 

It would be out loud if you could hear me typing–I’m an assertive typer.