I am Eleanor Thomas.

I just went to take Elsa out for the last time and there my keys were, just hanging from the lock.

Let's add trying to move a queen size mattress by myself on to the list of stupid stories to tell. Actually, there's not much to tell: Once upon a now, I hurt. The end. 

Of all the Charlie Brown's in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest.

I hurt myself, in the most ridiculous way (the most common way I hurt myself now that I think about it), at work today. I stabbed myself through my nail and into my finger with my exacto. There's really no reason that this should have been possible, but I managed it. The injury is practically microscopic, and yet it now hurts like someone shoved bamboo rods underneath my fingernail. 

This story actually goes with a longer post - that I haven't written yet - about how of all the stupid people in the world, I've got to be the stupidest. These stories involve a loaf of bread and an umbrella. Maybe I'll tell you them tomorrow. Right now, me and my oddly painful finger are going to bed. 

I don't understand weather.

I think it's weird that it's so cold outside and yet still light at 6:05 pm. Does not compute.

This story should tell you all you need to know about me.

The other day, I had a container of pineapple chunks. I love pineapple. Too much pineapple, however, gives me a slight allergic reaction that makes my mouth itchy and my tongue swell a bit. I had eaten more of the pineapple than I knew I should have - there were only 3 chunks left. At this point, knowing I was going to suffer soon anyway, I ate the last 3 chunks. 

Feel free to draw your own conclusions from that story.  It may say more about me than pretty much anything I've ever posted.  

Homework for me

This may be the stupidest post ever, but here goes.  Why do we hate Cuba so much?  I mean, it can't just be that it's a communist country, right?  Is it the whole Bay of Pigs thing?  Because even when we were in the Cold War, didn't we still have a diplomatic (per se) relationship with the USSR?  And as far as communist countries go, we've sold our soul to China.  I need to go find an American history book.  I wonder if my book, "Lies My Teacher Told Me," addresses this? 

I've been reading this book, "The Inheritance of Loss" by Kiran Desai, for like, oh I don't know, maybe a year now. That is NOT typical for me. I have a habit of reading several books at the same time, but I still always finish them in two weeks - at most. This one, not so much. I think I figured out last night that I have like 100 pages left. It's going to be a struggle to finish this book, and yet I refuse to give up (that trait needs to be a post all by itself). Holding the book in my hand and reading the review from Publisher's Weekly made it sound so promising: "In this alternately comical and contemplative novel, Desai deftly shuttles between first and third worlds, illuminating the pain of exile, the ambiguities of post-colonialism and the blinding desire for a "better life," when one person's wealth means another's poverty." I mean, that sounds really interesting, right? And I read her first novel "Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard" and loved it. Surely, I would love this book too.

But then I opened it up and knew, from the first chapter, that it was going to be a difficult book. Picking it up and then putting it down for months at a time has not helped my understanding of the story. I think there are cultural implications that I just can't wrap my brain around. But I'm to the point now that I don't care if I've understood it (which I haven't); I just want to say I finished it. It feels kind of like when I was in high school drama class and my partner and I had to write a play and we goofed off until like seconds before it was due and then my partner started getting all picky and ridiculous and I had to keep reminding him, "Not good, but done. That's all we're looking for. A "D" for crap is still better than an "F" for nothing."

Wow. After that analogy, I want to finish this book even LESS than before.

A geography lesson inspired by the CIA Factbook and my shower curtain

Did you know Lichtenstein (which is so small it's not even on my shower curtain, although Andorra is) and Uzbekistan are the only 2 double landlocked countries on the planet?

Double landlocked means that they are surrounded by other landlocked countries. There are 41 landlocked countries in the world. Kazakhstan is the largest.

So after I figured that part out, I started wondering about seas because Uzbekistan has a sea coast (Aral Sea) and Kazakhstan does too (Caspian Sea). Now to me, that seems to negate the whole landlocked thing, but apparently not. Anyway, then from the question about the sea came the question about the bay...I think you get the picture. My mind is always on a treadmill like this. It's sort of exhausting. So...

A bay is a body of water partially enclosed by land, but with a wide mouth affording access to the sea.

A sea is defined as either a relatively large body of salt water completely or partially enclosed by land OR a relatively large landlocked body of fresh water.

My last geographical factoid didn't come from my shower curtain but from trivia night (although I did confirm it there the next time I took a shower). There are 17 countries that have a border with only one other country. For example, Portugal - the only border is with Spain. Also, Lesotho (S. Africa), Vatican City (Italy) and Ireland (UK), which I guess means that UK fits the bill too (Ireland). If you want to know the rest, I can't help you. I can't remember any more.

My brain hurts, and I think I need to go lie down. I'm an American; I'm not supposed to know these things.

In addition to my shower curtain, special thanks goes to Elly who helped me figure out what double landlocked was.

So.

I've had a lot of difficult choices to make lately. Actually, let me rephrase that, I've had lots of difficult choices that I should have made lately, and yet, have not. I was telling someone last night that I really wish I could have some easy sailing. You know, time where my most pressing decision is, I don't know, what to wear in the morning or where to eat this weekend. But as I think about it, I wonder if the reason I keep having big decisions to make is because I avoid making them. Like is this a lesson (making the tough choices) I need to learn, and it's going to keep getting presented to me until I figure it out? This is what my friend calls the Lazy Susan approach. It's going to keep coming around until I take it off and deal with it.

Are you smarter than a 2nd grader?

If you work where I do, apparently not. Hence, the occupation listed on my profile: mis-educator of America's youth. Here's some background that quickly becomes relevant - my favorite part of my job is going through the mail that comes to our PO Box.

We once received complaints that the wise men and shepherds on our Christmas cards looked like terrorists. We also get an alarmingly large amount of mail from various correctional facilities around the country. In fact, in the latest batch there was a letter from a correctional facility in Illinois and New York. Scary.

But the best thing we've ever gotten was the large packet of letters from a class of second graders in Lyons, KS (here's the mis-education part). They wrote to point out: Birds are NOT mammals. Yes, in our book "Birds: Wonders of Wildlife" (which I can at least say was produced before I started working here), we made the rather outrageous claim that birds are mammals. Here's a sampling of what 2nd graders think about that:

"You made a slight (!) mistake in the book...I am sorry but I bet you will get it next time. I know some facts about birds. Birds can fly." Not all birds can fly, smarty pants.

"You have made a huge mistake." Simple, I like it.

"It says birds are one of the most fascinating mammals on earth. Yes birds are fascinating, but they're not mammals." Very diplomatic.

"You have made a mistake in your book but mistakes happen to everyone. It's ok." Winner for most compassionate.

"Mammals have hair, not birds." This is my favorite, because of the funny syntax error. Get it? Mammals don't have...never mind. I'm a dork.

Here's the thing, though. Once I got to thinking about it, I couldn't figure out what birds actually are. I also made the mistake of saying that frogs were reptiles, totally forgetting about amphibians. Not my finest moment. So after some research, I have learned that birds are considered aves, like dogs are considered mammals. I have to give that explanation because now I don't know if these labels (aves, mammals, amphibians, reptiles) are classes, species, genuses, or what. Looks like I have some more research to do.

Grrrr...

I made a noodle bowl for lunch today. EVEN THOUGH I was very aware that I needed to dump the water out very carefully, forces were working against me. The steam burned my hand, my hand jerked away from the bowl, the lid fell off and my noodles ended up in the kitchen sink. Sigh.

But, I decided to use this as an object lesson to help me study for my test on the nervous system tomorrow. Let's see...so me jerking my hand away from the sensation of pain shows my Class A Fibers in action. Class A Fibers, not to be confused with Class B or C Fibers, have the largest diameter of neuron fibers and are fully myelinated. Being fully myelinated helps increase the speed with which these fibers can detect and then relay stimuli to the brain. You can find Class A Fibers in both sensory and motor nerves. And, if I have it right, the sensory A fibers were the ones that said to my brain, via my spinal cord, "Ouch! That's hot. We should do something about that." Then, my motor A fibers told my skeletal muscles, "Hey dummy! That's hot. Move your hand." Or something like that.

Just in case you wanted to know.

I Wish You Had Seen This

This story is the perfect example of how trying too hard NOT to do something can actually make that thing happen. It's like how you're not supposed to think about or look at the scalding hot mug of tea when you're carrying it because if you do, you're bound to slosh it over the edge and burn yourself.

The story starts yesterday morning when a big glob of toothpaste fell onto the top to my can of mousse. In a rush as I always am, especially on Tuesdays, I left the glob to clean up later or never - whichever came first. This morning I needed to use my mousse so I was very carefully trying to remove the top (this is the scalding hot tea part) without sticking my hand into the goopy toothpaste. Somehow, I squeezed the top too hard, it shot off over my head, hit the bathroom floor, ricocheted up about 6 inches onto the tile wall, AND STUCK THERE.

We would have laughed about this. I wish you had seen it.

Bad news...

...I'm back in school, and I'm still a dork. A much cuter dork, but a dork nonetheless.

In fact, after confiding in co-worker J. that I used to want one of those rubber pencil triangles (the ones they gave out to help the kids who had trouble holding their pencils correctly) because it made the kids "special," he told me he was pretty sure I was "special," triangle pencil thingie or not.

In addition to learning everything about the human body in school, I've been learning everything (or at least some things) about dinosaurs, the solar system, phonics, and bugs at work. Here's the most interesting thing I've learned in a long time: Gnats fly in circles because their left and right wings are different sizes. They're the "special" ones of the insect world.

My brain is so full right now that I'm pretty sure the gnat fact has bumped some important bit of knowledge (like my PIN number or how to tie my shoes) out of its slot in the filing cabinet.

What do you think it means?

I had a strange dream this morning about otters. I was working in an aquarium, and I was supposed to be getting to know all the otters. While I tried to distract 2 huge otters that were fighting on my legs and totally freaking me out, a small otter swam over to me, hopped out of the pool, and sat beside me. When I turned around, the otter had become a little girl who looked suspiciously like Dora the Explorer. She kind of wobbled, and I put my hand down to steady her. Then she told me I should tell her to "be careful." So I did.

Um. Ok, then. What a strange dream. Maybe even stranger is the fact that I've sat here and analyzed it. I wonder why these thoughts were so important that my brain had to let them out? I guess my subconscious/unconscious - are they interchangeable? - thinks I need to be more careful. Caring as much as I do, but still trying to move on and heal at the same time, is a tough balancing act. Being a gigantic clutz (physically and emotionally) makes it even harder to do. I feel like I'm juggling all these conflicting emotions - loss, love, anger, hope, disappointment - while standing on one foot and hopping. Sigh...when does it get easier? "Be careful" is good advice right now.

It's That Time of Year Again...

...when I start asking everyone when it's going to start getting cooler. I never remember, so I always have to ask.