Ants... can tilt the world? Mom, have a theory?

                 You know that trick with the piece of salt and the salt shaker? People love to do it at bars and diners. If you balance the salt shaker just right on that one grain of salt, it will stand up. This little post is for my mom. Heh,heh. 

                I was just checking on the ants in the apartment. They are still there. Bummer. This morning it looked like the problem had cleared up on it's own. Apparently they were just playing with my emotions. Dastardly buggers.
               When I first went looking, I did think they were gone. I didn't see the normal stream coming from under the door. But it was there, just not as steady. I did notice however, they weren't going to the wicker table though. That's nice.
               I thought this is perfect. The less ants the better. And if they aren't in the wicker table anymore, they aren't anywhere near the sofa! Bonus! So, I figured I would sit and watch a little T.V. to get my mind off things. I thought zoning out right about now would be a good thing.
              OHHHHH contraire....silly kimber. What could I have been thinking? Really, couldn't I have at least turned the light on in the room before sitting down and getting all comfy? Nope, is the answer. Instead, I turned on the T.V., brought my water out had the remote in hand and got in the most comfortable position I could all in under a minute. Quite speedy for me really.
             By the time I had flipped a couple stations, I felt something on my arm, probably a hair- I tend to shed a lot. I knew however it would annoy me to no end if I did not get it, so I grabbed it. What I found in my hand was a freshly squeezed ant. Not happy. So now the real questions are: Do I continue on, happily in blissful ignorance by keeping the lights out? or Do I turn on the lights and check out the couch, because there might be more ants there (which will inevitably also crawl on me)?
           I chose the latter. There were a couple more. I was however interrupted in my search for the source. (I had not found even a clue as to where the source was as of yet.) I am not at all unhappy about having to quickly abandon my search mission. As you can see, I didn't exactly return to it. My theory is they might be all along the back of the couch and underneath. The torment!
          Now without really knowing anything for sure I am only left to speculate. Heh. What I do know: They like the potting soil a lot. They like the tidbits of dry plants that have fallen into the wicker. And I know that I have not swept under the couch for a while. We live on a heavily travelled road across from the beach. Constant sweeping is a necessity. Those are the things I know, or think I know. 
         Given these facts, we can assume that they are doing something useful. Of course, anyone who has ever seen a documentary about ants, would know that ants are very utilitarian creatures. I personally might surmise that they might want to torture me a little. I do truly believe, that, that is only because I enjoy saying that sort of thing! It sounds much better! Let's go with that though, they want to torture me a little bit. No, ants don't seem innately evil, maybe we should say they are thinking of playing some sort of nasty tricks on me. That's more like an ant, right? How the hell should I know? I can't even hear the noises they make. Moving on.
         They want to play tricks on me. And they are doing something useful. To do something useful, you must have a plan- but being ants, it's probably not a plan as you and I think of it. It's probably more of a relay of sounds, movement, and solidarity that ends up working perfectly when all is said and done. Let's forget about the plan shall we. The dirt. What is it about the dirt? It will take those little guys forever to get all that dirt out of here. Especially if they are also concentrating on other things (i.e.- dried plants, and weird stuff behind a couch, and a dorky human). 
        I'm thinking of letting them stay, IF they just stay in that room. Maybe they will get all the dirt out. Maybe they will get it all the way across the road. Maybe they will get it across the railway. And MAYBE they will get it to the beach. Will they be lying in wait for me there? If they are, will they have built a couch out of sand and dirt that matches the one in my apartment? Possibly with a "sand-kimber" sitting on it? I fear the answers to those questions... but I would rather any of those possibilities, than the possibility of them taking over the apartment. Or crawling through my orifices at night. That one really creeps me out, I like to pretend it's an urban legend.

       The question I must ask my mother is: If they do successfully get all the dirt, dried plants, and weird stuff from behind the couch out to the beach. Then logically, the beach would weigh more, right? And so follows, my apartment would weigh less, right? If it had also rained hard the night before the last bit of dirt was brought to the beach, so that water and mud from the mountains washed down to the beach... mom, do you think the world would start to tilt?

ick.

kimbersfrog

Nervous enough...

              I'm not going to talk about anxiety of the highest levels here, that is a level I have only briefly encountered. In fact, I must take a moment to express my admiration for anyone who has to deal with true anxiety on a regular basis, I would never be able to function. So I am incredibly impressed and truly respect those who can.

             There are times, however when you just can't quite get the tension to go away. Stress is a powerful thing. It can push you. It can pull. It can rip and squeeze. It can make you mad and make you cry. And of course it can make you totally irrational. I love stress, don't you? Heh.

             It's true that there have been many things in my life as of late that have been causing stress. I have been able to only let it effect my life in short lived periods of time. Relatively speaking. For the most part, I've been able to calm myself to a lower level of tension. What I have been most successful at is not letting the stress of my medication change get to me.
             Until now. Tomorrow I run out of my current medication. I have to return to a previous medication. They are the same but not equal. The point is, I am really nervous. I know that I have had break through seizures on this medication before. Not many, but some. And tomorrow I will go back to it.
            It wasn't until about 8 or so tonight that I finally let it get to me. What do I do with that? I was lucky enough to talk to a good friend of mine who gave me some good thoughts and advice, he was there at just the right time. I like skype when it's working!
            Unfortunately, the reality is, I am alone in this. No one is here. I have no one to talk to about this. I'm pretty sure no one really wants to hear about it anyway. People don't really like to talk about stuff that scares them. Especially with the people they care about.
 I guess that sucks for me.
           I am not writing this for a pity party. That is the last thing I need. I do want other epileptics out there to know (if there are any that read this), that some of us do feel this way some of the time. And sometimes you have to get used to the fact that people will just not be there for you. It is not because they don't love you. In fact a lot of the time it is just the opposite, people aren't always capable of being there AT the time you need them. So you need to find another way to cope.
          Me? For me, I find this blog to be extremely helpful. It calms me. Then I don't have to keep my mind on NOT keeping my mind on the things that are upsetting me. We all need something to help us deal with our tension and pain in addition to coping skills. Please find yours, it will help. And every so often, you will have a friend like mine, who stand up to the plate, and is there for you. Whether you are able to take the help or not.

   Thank you friend.

kimbersfrog

THEY'RE BAA-AACK!

                 Most people have had or still have recurring nightmares in their life. Some have them every night. Others have them only during stressful times. In fact, I'm sure there are a multitude of reasons for recurring nightmares, but I don't know all that much about them other than a few educated guesses. So, I'll stick to mine.
                 I think I was about 17 when I started with recurring nightmares. They were always about bugs. They were always stress related. The only nice bit was there was a little variety in the type of bug. That is, if you want to put a silver lining on it. The more stressed I was, the number of bugs increased. I would also have less ability to move and it would seem like the dream lasted longer before I woke up. I always woke up, feeling like I was covered with bugs and couldn't get them off. It was disturbing. Still is.
                As if these lovely bug dreams were not enough to rid myself of some of my tension (or possibly add to it), I then began to have another recurring dream. These started shortly after I was diagnosed with epilepsy and realized it was actually going to affect me for the rest of my life. I won't go into details about that one, it's really too disturbing. I could write it in a very funny light, but most people don't find these things amusing. Let's move on shall we.
               I don't want to imply that I was having these dreams every night. Thank the dream gods... I wasn't! It seemed like every so often I would get them for a few nights in a row, then they would just go away. It took me about 2 years to put together that they were stress related. Duh. No, sorry, I meant BIG DUH! Well, the hope is to get smarter as we age right?

             Luckily, at some point, oh I don't know, maybe 6 or 7 years ago, the second more disturbing dreams ceased. Bonus! The bug dreams randomly continued. They came less and less often though. That was nice. Lately on the rare occasion that I have one or two of these buggers, I think to myself, wow maybe they will eventually stop completely. Or maybe they actually in some weird way coincide with my epilepsy. I not only have less grand-mals now, but almost none of the smaller epilepsy symptoms rear their ugly heads either. Who knows really, it's still about stress, there are no two ways about that.

           Now, I am in a desperately stressful situation. It's coming from all sides. Don't get me wrong, I knowingly put myself in this position. I knew it would bring on an overload of stress, anxiety, tension- body mind and soul. Even so, I am happy I'm here. Truthfully, there is no place I would rather be than to be able to be with my love. That's another subject completely, one that I am consider private, sorry. Where was I? Right.

         So here I am completely stressed out... and whilst it took a good 3 months (shocking!), I started having more stress dreams. Yes, the bug dreams. Unfortunately, I have also started having other dreams that leave me angry at people I love. It's completely irrational. They haven't done anything wrong. They aren't even here. They are however doing horrible things to me in my dreams. Now really I ask you, is that fair? Is that fair to them? I think not. Who are these nasty dream gods, and what sick sense of humour do they have anyway?  I have said my piece.

   I will however probably post with something better later. Oh and just a small aside, I just noticed some ants in the house today. For real. They apparently like potting soil. I'm really not happy about that! I'm sure you can imagine.

kimbersfrog

I can't believe I am going to post this....Be strong (hee,hee)

           Have you ever discovered something about yourself at an odd moment? Not only that, but something that really truly surprised you? Well, I recently did. What's more, it shouldn't have surprised me at all. I think somewhere inside I must have known it. Right?  Now I will embarrass myself willingly.... and tell you all.
           I was on the train home the other evening. At that time of night the trains are pretty packed, so I was standing. That suit me just fine, I kind of enjoy standing sometimes. Of course I was doing what I always do, making sure my pockets and bag weren't being picked, and listening to people's conversations, and watching. Everyone.

          Yes, I freely admit I am that nosey that I listen in to what others are saying. Of course, here with my limited Spanish, it is not as easy. It is however more entertaining, when I fill in the blanks as if they're mad libs!

          As for the watching people, I try not to be noticeable. I try to be casual about it. It has been made apparent to me a multitude of times, that I am not subtle. So those nonchalant glances around the train car are going unnoticed... who's to say for sure?
         Neither of these things are what I learned about myself though. I have always known I enjoyed those things. It does not make me proud or embarrassed, I just enjoy it when it happens!
        At some point however, I noticed the girl in front of me. She was incredibly skinny. I was trying to understand what was being said by the couple behind me, I was also wondering if I was that skinny when I was her age. She looked healthy however. Now I'm really thin too, but I have muscle. When I was about her age, I was pretty skinny. At some point I started to examine my arm as it was holding the rail above me.
          I will be the first to admit I really have no balance. It can actually be a bit embarrassing at times. I will also say, the trains here are incredibly smooth. I don't even need the rail except at one or two of the stops. So when I looked up to find my hand was gripping the bar like a vice and all the muscles from my wrist to my shoulder were taut, I must say, I was a little taken aback. Not a lot. Just a bit.
         Obviously, I loosened my grip. I thought, wow, I must be stressed out. I know I'm stressed out. Surely that must be it. Within seconds, I started squeezing again. Hmmm. This didn't feel like stress squeeze. I know that feeling. I would call that more of a tension clench that reaches from your head to your toes then back up to your butt cheeks. Not pretty, but true.
         Now, I'm wondering why is it I strengthened my grip again right away? In fact, come to think of it, why on such a smooth ride, was I using my arm for balance- the entire ride? Tightening and loosening, back and forth? What is wrong with me.
         That was the point that I realized that I had probably been making a string of shall we say, interesting, expressions while thinking about all this. The reason I came to believe this? I am pretty sure the guy by the door and I share the same small interest in voyeurism. He was looking at me as if he was mystified as to what could possibly be going on in my head. I then returned to my arm.
          Still I'm using it as if I need it for balance. Then it hit me! Oh my, heheheheheh. Wow, I am still a little baffled by it. In some ways it makes sense. In others it makes none. I am proud of my muscles. I actually want other people to see them. There it is. Yep. Apparently, there is some vanity in that little bitty brain of mine after all. The part that doesn't make sense is... I generally don't go out of my way to show off my shape, good or bad- it's all relative. On the other hand, I have always gone on about how strong I am... so maybe it does make sense.

        Idle thoughts to fill the time, and this is what I get from it. I'm vain. Great. On a good note, I might be able to kick your butt!!! HeeHee. (Man, I can't get away from it.)

kimbersfrog

How to remain impassive, when some one passes gas.....

                  Twice. In one week and a half, I managed to find myself in one of those situations that can be very uncomfortable, extremely funny, and quite embarrassing all at once. All of these possibilities usually come together when only two people are involved, and those two people barely know each other. For me both occasions there were only two people in the room. And each time, I had only met the person one time before. These were not embarrassing incidents to me, which is shocking. For the other people involved, I can't say. These events are so similar I will tell them together until they naturally veer from one another.
                 I was sitting on one side of a table. The other person (okay... let's just say she), was sitting on the other side. Two people in the entire apartment. No people, dogs, cats, or any kind of creature were present. Then I smelled it. Amazingly enough, it wasn't me who made the smell o' fart. It was an indisputable smell. Now the stories start to differ.
                 The first one, was just an isolated incident. I smelled it. It was maybe a 5 on the meter. This is a shy, quiet type, whom I don't really know. I was on the verge of laughter. Really, just blurting out a loud noise that reduces into a regular laughter sort of laugh. Not appropriate. Instead I quickly made a joke, we both laughed, and went back to work. All I can hope for is that my face did not show every little expression, as it usually does. On to the next.
                 The second was a bit trickier. This girl was like a fumarole...and these were much more like mine. If you know me (which at the moment I think most of my readers do, thanks!), you know it's a disturbing fate for anyone to be in this sort of proximity to the source. An hour, ONE hour of maybe 3 to five minute intervals of pure undiluted gaseous emissions. This is not the shy quiet type, she is much more the polite and self-conscious type. Again, although my nature is to let out the wild laughter bubbling up inside me and let my immaturity reign, I contained it. This time however it was a tiny bit easier. I knew what to do. Eventually, I didn't even have to make a joke to cover my amusement. I just kept right on talking or listening, and made jokes inside my head.
                The point of all of this, is probably not all that important. I will however say, when I left the second person's place, I felt a little sad. It was as if a bit of my inner child had died. Luckily as soon as I finished that thought, it reminded me of how damn funny the whole thing was and I started laughing right there on the street. As kids farts are funny. As teens and young adults they continue to be. Now that I am am apparently getting older (my dad kindly informed me of that today), they are STILL funny. And if my parents and grandparents are any indication.....they will never cease to be funny.

It's good to know some things are timeless.

kimbersfrog