Girl Crush

 Herself speaks.

I try to avoid certain types of movies/songs/media, because they are just... a bit much for me. I don't watch rom-coms; I don't read books in which the love interests don't end up together; don't listen to lovelorn music. Especially now, when the world is a flaming dumpster fire, and Depression still sits quietly in the passenger seat of my car and stares at me from the corners of my room at night.

Once in a while, though, I accidentally come across something, and -- almost against my will -- it catches my attention.  I heard a snippet of a song on TikTok the other day, and now it is stuck in my brain. I feel compelled to listen to it, even though it brings up Feelings that I do not enjoy and would like not to experience. (Empathy: currently the worst kind of curse.)

I wish I knew what to do with Feelings that are Too Much. Feeling them by myself is acutely painful; all the same, there is no one in front of whom I would be comfortable feeling them. Yet one can only squash down feelings for so long, before they coalesce into the living, breathing Depression that is my secretive companion. I would not wish that on anyone. 

At any rate, here is the earworm that is plaguing me. Girl Crush, sung by Harry Styles. Suffer with me. Perhaps, if we suffer together, we can get through. 

I want to taste her lips
Yeah, 'cause they taste like you
I want to drown myself
In a bottle of her perfume
I want her long blond hair
I want her magic touch
Yeah, 'cause maybe then
You'd want me just as much
I've got a girl crush

All Squares are Rectangles (But Not All Rectangles Are Squares)

 Do you remember the expression: all squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares? It's such a great turn of phrase. I like it for its literal correctness -- few things more satisfying than a specific mirror-image definition like this. 

It occurred to me today that it could also potentially be used metaphorically. (Yes, I'm slow sometimes.)  I contemplated this morning, how it could be applied. (I was doing so, to avoid thinking about current events. Because they are all horrible. THE HORROR. Ironically, it was through mulling over current events that I ultimately came up with a situation that is analogous.) It goes like this:

When someone hurts another person through actions, an apology made through words can help.  But when an injury is caused by words, an attempt to make reparations through actions is not always successful. Even when actions are intended to show remorse or repentance or a change of heart, there will always be those previous words lingering in the background, and the thought that they may resurface again. Words can only be negated by words, not by deeds. 

Perhaps only I place so much emphasis on the value and import of words. (And perhaps that is why I spend so much time trying to explain myself with a hundred billion words.) Am I alone here? Give me the words, peoples. 

But perhaps not. Surely I am not the only person horrified by the words being used in public arenas right now. When our current President says the VERY TERRIBLE things he says, so flippantly, so carelessly, it is shocking and appalling and I cannot watch because the words stick in my head and I immediately want to argue and yet I cannot, because what good would that serve? What kind of terrible timeline are we living in, that the leader of our nation spews forth such cruel and crass verbal garbage? And it's not just him, either.  But surely I am not alone in my horror. 

Could amends be made through actions at this point? No. Absolutely not. The words need to be denounced. Better words need to be put forth. Only with Good Words, can we truly move forward. 

Dreamscape

 Herself speaks.

Last night, I had a dream that I was on a beach. It was not sunny - I think it was early evening, perhaps? - but it was a nice ambient temperature, neither too warm nor too cold, and the breeze was just right, and the water was the same level of nice. There were good stones on the beach, and fine sand, and some people relatively nearby, but not too many and they were not too close nor too loud. I don't know what I was wearing, but I do know that my body was comfortable, nothing hurt, everything was good. 

I was there with someone I have not seen in far too long. I held their hand and looked into their face, and they had a true smile, and I thought about how it has been so long since I have seen their smile. And I was so happy that they were happy. I just looked and looked, trying to capture every millimeter of that smile, knowing that my time with them was so short and that I had no idea when I would ever see that face again. 

It was lovely to be there for that moment. 

I saw you in my dream
We were walking hand in hand
On a white sandy beach of Hawaii
We were playing in the sun
We were having so much fun
On a white sandy beach of Hawaii
The sound of the ocean
Soothes my restless soul
Sound of the ocean
Rocks me all night long

White Sandy Beach - Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole

Yikes

That's... even weirder, DuoLingo. 

I Don't Know

I came across a meme the other day, and it sparked a tiny memory from a hundred thousand years ago. 

I am not sure how old I was, but I was somewhere in my preteen years.  My weird little homely self was overwhelmed by something, to the point of tears, and my poor beleaguered mother, attempting to discern what was happening (no doubt wondering what is her problem THIS time, as I was -- once upon a time -- a tearful little creature), asked me what was wrong. I responded, "I don't know," because I genuinely did NOT know. Something was wrong, but I could not put words to it. Things were just not right, somehow. I did not have adequate means to describe. It wasn't a Thing That Had Happened, it wasn't a Crisis, it was just... I don't know. 

"That's not an answer," she told me, exasperated. "Maybe when you're a teenager, that might be an answer. But not now." This confused me, but also stopped me from crying: both because apparently I did not have a reason to cry, so I was supposed to stop; and also, because I had to think about what it meant that teenagers were allowed to have some kind of complex feeling that could not be put in to words but still afforded them the opportunity to cry openly -- but that I, a mere grade schooler, was not allowed to do so. 

Ultimately, I eventually (painstakingly) learned that people are not at all comfortable with any form of upset feelings or with crying, so it's best to keep that to oneself and out of view of other people; and that being a teenager does NOT, in fact, allow one to cry openly, regardless of whether one has an actual 'reason' or not. 

I do still have times when I do not understand why I feel the way I do; it is so hard to identify feelings right as they are happening.  I wish they came with a little sign: "this is sadness because X" or "this is anxiousness because Y" or "this is overwhelm because A and B and C all happened in short order". 

Feelings: so much work. 

No wonder I'm tired. 

Young at Heart

 Beloved Husband is fifty-[mumble] years old.  Eternally young at heart, always willing to try new foods, new activities, and new places, he will always be the cheery, born-under-a-lucky-star person that I have known him to be since the very first day we met. 

Happy Birthday, Beloved Husband. I wish for you -- with great love -- continued health, happiness, and adventures, for many, many years to come. 

Oort Cloud Bun

 Alert and in the Oort Cloud!