Doxie Proxy

Listening

…to Outlander, by the illustrious and brilliant Diana Gabaldon.

My favorite line:

…but the bones sometimes remain, faithful echoes of the shape,
to bear some last faint witness to the glory of what was.

<3 Crafts

Beautiful piece by JacksonCreede on Etsy:

I’ve also thinking of sending off for some of these from Fat Quarter World:

Blue Kaffe Fassett Lovey Charm Squares

…in order to make some of these reusable makup remover pads. How cute is that? I go through a ton of cotton pads, and would love something more eco-friendly.

Non Compos Mentis

Snap.

That’s entirely different from what I want to say right now, but as I try
to write less “colorfully” than I sometimes speak, it will have to do.

I’ve been listening to Voyager, one of the books in the Outlander
series by Diana Gabaldon. It’s an Audible.com download, and the
book is rather long, thus it’s been divided into multiple parts. I just
finished part 3, and found, to my great dismay, that I apparently
did NOT load part 4 on to my iPod.

I have books 3 and 4 of the series in my handy little device, but cannot
move forward because I am ridiculously involved in this series, and
feel sure that catastrophe would ensue, were I to skip so much as
one line.

Meh. This sounds so minor, and like something that could be summed
up in a Twitter posting. As I’ve not yet succumbed to the evil that is
Twitterdom, this is my only outlet. I told my dear friend in the next
cube, and she gasped. I thanked her for her appropriate response to
such a situation of this gravity. She rolled her eyes. (That, I’m afraid,
is the truly appropriate response.)

Non compos mentis. That’s me. (Not of sound mind.)

Liars, A Poem & Memories of New York

I recently took a class entitled “Non-Verbal Communication.” I selected the class myself, but didn’t expect it to be overly interesting. I was actually amazed at how much I learned, and how often I’ve applied what I learned in the several days since. The main point the instructor emphasized was not to judge by one thing, such as assuming someone is closed or non-approachable simply because they have their arms crossed. (They may just be cold, or it may just be habit.)

It was fascinating, and I’m most impressed with the instructor. For example, she pointed out some differences between the way men and women react to certain situations.Take a conversation where someone is listening intently to someone else. A man (generally) sits back, whereas a woman (generally) will sit forward, leaning into the conversation. A man may sit back with his legs open, whereas a woman will keep her knees closed or legs crossed. A man may unconsciously position himself so that he takes up more space, whereas women may position themselves to take up the smallest space possible. These are generalizations, of course, and not everyone behaves as such, but in the last few days, it’s been interesting to see how many people do seem to act like this.

There were all sorts of visual clues, such as touching the face with the finger on the cheek, pointed up, and the thumb curled along the chin (critical assessment [I'm not in agreement with you.]), touching or  scratching the head in front of or behind the ear, scratching one’s head, jingling items or coins in one’s pants pocket, looking up, looking down, cuticle-picking, that wretched (my opinion) teeth-sucking sound and several others.

Finally, the Pièce de Résistance of the class was a volunteer project. Myself and three others were led into the hall, and the instructor asked us to find something that only three of us had in common. After we’d done so, we’d have a few minutes to advise the fourth person, and afterwards would be led back into the room, to be questioned by the class.

Eventually, after 10 minutes or so, the class would vote as to which one was lying.  After some discussion, we found that three of us had been to New York, and one fellow had not. We chatted a bit, then headed back and stood in the front of the room. We were assigned numbers (I was number 4), and the questioning began. I was asked aeveral questions, such as when did my New York visit occur (2 weeks before Desert Storm), did I notice any food stands (yes, hot dog stands), in what manner of transportation did I arrive to New York (I believe we drove into the city), how did I get around in New York (we walked; I was too chicken to ride the subway, and with the way the taxi cabs drove [Nascar comes to mind], I was determined not to get into one), what part of New York did I visit (I was staying in Commack, Long Island, and we also visited New York City), what do I remember most (*see note), and what did I dislike the most (perhaps time has blurred any bad memories, but I don’t remember disliking anything about my visit). 15 or so minutes later, the instructor announced that it was time to vote. I was grinning inwardly, because I thought the fellow next to me (#3, AKA the Liar) had done a wretched job of being dishonest. He stammered at times, had long pauses in his answers, and it just seemed so obvious that he was the one! Keep in mind, there were 15 people in the class. Minus the four of us, this leaves 11 voters.

The instructor said “Number One?”, and 1 person raised her hand.

“Number Two?”  2 people raised their hands.

“Number Three?” …….. 1 person…. raised her hand.

“Number Four?” The rest of the class raised their hand, and people burst out laughing at the look on my face. I couldn’t stop from blurting “What the hell?” - and people laughed even harder.

Seriously! What the hell? Even the instructor snickered. When Lying Fellow ™ stepped forward and announced that he was the culprit, he smirked at me. I told him to bite me, and that the voting just means he’s a skilled liar. He laughed even harder at that

I asked why folks thought I was the one, and people said, in general, that
had an answer for everything, almost like it was scripted. Egads. I had tried to think of everything someone might ask, and did go over in my mind what I’d say, but..OMG. Pffft.

*As to what I remember most of New York:

The most enormous bagels I’d ever seen, and in more flavors than I thought bagels could be made in. They covered an entire plate! (OK, probably not, but in my memory they were gigantic.)

The WTC towers. We went in and up to the top, and I stood against the rail and leaned forward, laying my head against the window. I looked out across the city and found it beautiful and neverending. The words of the poem Ronald Reagan quoted after the Challenger disaster came to mind:

And while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod the high untrespassed sanctity of space…put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

(High Flight, by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.).

I cried. It made me feel so small, so very small, and yet a part of something so much more. It was magical.

Going to a buffet and not recognizing a single thing. Seriously. I like my
food, y’ken? But I recognized nothing.

Sitting around the table with my friend’s family, and seeing them literally lean forward when I started to talk. (I am inherently Southern, and my accent reflects this. More Charlestonian than twang, thank you kindly.) They were so precious, and taught me the phrase “It’s a pisser!” (pronounced:”piss-uh”).

The graveyard I saw while going over a bridge (turnpike?). It was enormous, and seemed to go on forever.

Meeting the first Jewish person I’d ever met. I can’t remember his name, but he was fascinating, and patiently explained Judaism to me. I’d honestly not known anything about it, and he was a delightful teacher.

The people. Some were louder, walked faster, talked quicker and seemed to hurry through life, but everyone was kind and interesting. I’d love to go back. =)

Reading: Psychomech, by Brian Lumley
iPod: Voyager, by Diana Gabaldon
Radio: NPR
TV: Fringe, Lie to Me, Heroes, 24, Eleventh Hour, &.. I think that’s it.
(Damn the DVR. I’ve watched more TV this past year than I have in the
prior 30!)
Favorite line in current book: “All the other inhabitants in orbit around her, like planets around a sun.:

High Flight
by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds…and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of…wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up, the long, delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, nor even eagle flew.
And while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space…
…put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

You can’t escape it.

My dog runs from her own farts.

The thing is, she’s usually sitting on or right next to me when she does this. All will be well with the world, then - *pfft!* - and she scampers (lumbers, actually) away, leaving me to eventually bellow and gag. I usually have a laptop perched on my legs, and can’t lunge for fresh air.

The dog, she is smart. Yes, my English profs would have a field day with that sentence, but I imagined it said in a thick Russian accent, so there you have it.

Save the Music

This is precious. It’s definitely, absolutely worth taking the time to watch.