1. I had to go to the doctor last week as a result of the work at the
Prestigious Hospital, who wants to be sure that its employees are fit.
I attempted to argue against it, since I really don't see what my blood
pressure has to do with my ability to edit (I see what editing does to
my blood pressure, but that's different), and also because I
particularly dislike putting on clothes for the purpose of going out and
then taking off my clothes in front of clothed people. This is why I
never pursued a career as an artist's model. Fears and bumbling aside,
the visit to the doctor turned out to be the most low-maintenance visit
I've ever had: for example, he determined my height and weight by asking
me what they were. Neat-o. He said I could come back and take off my
clothes some other time, but a form is a form and let's get this thing
done. So that guy is totally going to be my regular doctor now.
2. I've been thinking about what makes people fall out of like. When I meet somebody, I either instantly like or dislike them, or I forget their names. Of the people I remember, I revise my opinion only rarely. So if I stop liking somebody, there's generally a reason, I mean a thing I can say, "It is at this point that I stopped liking you/being interested in you." But I guess for some people they just lose interest gradually? Or is there always some event, some one thing, however dimly acknowledged, that causes a break?
3. Inspired by our friends who got Squire to paint a trailer by paying him, I decided to try that approach at the cottage, and offered to pay him a really ridiculous amount per nail for pulling nails out of previously-used wood, so that it could then be safely chainsawed and used for firewood. Five crowns a nail, you guys. So he was all excitedly plotting what he would do with the money, what he would buy, how many nails he might pull in an hour, etc. I was like, "Hey, all he needed was some motivation!" He made it for about 30 minutes, 10 nails. Then he got bored and stomped around the place for a few hours talking about how he had so much angry energy he didn't know what to do with himself, oh the horrible hor-moans! and then he lay on the bed and listened to Percy Jackson and the Predictables. I pulled out the rest of the nails, though I gave up counting out loud after 100. Then I stomped around the cottage wondering who was going to pay ME five crowns a nail, because 500 Kc buys a quite fine bottle of somethingsomething, which I felt I deserved.
4. Noting typos on the US Census web site is a) an occupational hazard; b)a sign of too much free time; c) other.
5. I think one reason I am good at remembering so many facts in general is that I absolutely cannot store numbers. It has been noted that if some Czech version of the INS ever came for me, or child services for that matter, I might be lost. How much did Squire weigh when he was born? I have no idea. Or Friar's year of birth. Or my current phone number. I do not remember how old your kids are, and I have on more than one occasion forgotten how many kids you have, and had to remember by reciting their names, which I remember. I don't remember your birthday unless I have a clever mnemonic, though I remember to write it down, so props for me. I also have trouble performing simple functions, like you don't even want to know what DST does to my poor tender brain. But anyway: numbers. Numb-er and numb-er. Is this normal? It goes without saying that I can tell you phone numbers from my childhood, including radio stations, my aunt's house, my next-door-neighbor's, but I can't keep new numbers in my head for beans. I blame trying to switch to metric as an adult. What do you think?
2. I've been thinking about what makes people fall out of like. When I meet somebody, I either instantly like or dislike them, or I forget their names. Of the people I remember, I revise my opinion only rarely. So if I stop liking somebody, there's generally a reason, I mean a thing I can say, "It is at this point that I stopped liking you/being interested in you." But I guess for some people they just lose interest gradually? Or is there always some event, some one thing, however dimly acknowledged, that causes a break?
3. Inspired by our friends who got Squire to paint a trailer by paying him, I decided to try that approach at the cottage, and offered to pay him a really ridiculous amount per nail for pulling nails out of previously-used wood, so that it could then be safely chainsawed and used for firewood. Five crowns a nail, you guys. So he was all excitedly plotting what he would do with the money, what he would buy, how many nails he might pull in an hour, etc. I was like, "Hey, all he needed was some motivation!" He made it for about 30 minutes, 10 nails. Then he got bored and stomped around the place for a few hours talking about how he had so much angry energy he didn't know what to do with himself, oh the horrible hor-moans! and then he lay on the bed and listened to Percy Jackson and the Predictables. I pulled out the rest of the nails, though I gave up counting out loud after 100. Then I stomped around the cottage wondering who was going to pay ME five crowns a nail, because 500 Kc buys a quite fine bottle of somethingsomething, which I felt I deserved.
4. Noting typos on the US Census web site is a) an occupational hazard; b)a sign of too much free time; c) other.
5. I think one reason I am good at remembering so many facts in general is that I absolutely cannot store numbers. It has been noted that if some Czech version of the INS ever came for me, or child services for that matter, I might be lost. How much did Squire weigh when he was born? I have no idea. Or Friar's year of birth. Or my current phone number. I do not remember how old your kids are, and I have on more than one occasion forgotten how many kids you have, and had to remember by reciting their names, which I remember. I don't remember your birthday unless I have a clever mnemonic, though I remember to write it down, so props for me. I also have trouble performing simple functions, like you don't even want to know what DST does to my poor tender brain. But anyway: numbers. Numb-er and numb-er. Is this normal? It goes without saying that I can tell you phone numbers from my childhood, including radio stations, my aunt's house, my next-door-neighbor's, but I can't keep new numbers in my head for beans. I blame trying to switch to metric as an adult. What do you think?
Oh my oh my what I would not give to know what makes people fall out of like.
I suspect it is just some kind of alignment that makes people like each other in the first place, in almost all cases. Little proximity/similarity things. These can become misaligned quickly.
The odd thing is that there are many people who I have no interest in continual contact with but whom I am deeply fond of. There are lots of people I want to love from afar--almost everyone, in fact.
Posted by: ozma | March 30, 2010 at 09:39 AM
I like my doctor because she generally gives me the most hopeless diagnoses possible.
And I forget what I wanted out of the cellar by the time I get there. And have called my kid by the tortoise's name.
Posted by: mig | April 02, 2010 at 03:33 PM
I think when we were kids we had no idea of how many numbers we'd have to learn along the way. Now that we've met so many, perhaps we've lost that will to remember?
I do love the practical nature of doctors and forms here.
Posted by: Julia | April 10, 2010 at 02:49 PM