According to Science Illustrated, “Letting the mind wonder fosters creativity”. Maybe, but letting my mind wonder fosters thoughts that range from daft to disturbing. For example:
Sometimes when I’m talking to somebody, I wonder if behind that expression of polite interest, they’re psychically screaming “Shut up! Shut UP!”
I’ve done that lots of times, for various reasons. Sometimes it’s because I’m on a deadline and the other person simply won’t acknowledge that their detailed description of the pickle they ate at lunch may in fact be less important than the document the client needs in ten minutes.
Sometimes it’s because the person flapping their gums is expressing ideas so colossally stupid, I can’t believe they haven’t already choked on their own idiocy.
Sometimes it’s because the speaker is brilliant but my poor brain is full to the brim, and trying to pour more information into it is a complete waste of everyone’s time.
And sometimes it’s a “too much information” conversation where psychic screaming is my last, desperate attempt to prevent the images from penetrating my brain and leaving it perforated and deformed by a nasty case of BSE (Bozo Spongiform Encephalopathy).
So if I’ve been the psychic screamer that frequently, it stands to reason that sometimes I’m the cause of psychic screams. The scream-ee.
It’s a humbling thought, and not a little disturbing. But it does tend to make me strive for brevity in my conversations.
* * *
Here’s another thing I wonder about: Can anybody tell me why the white hairs always pop up as stiff as wires, while the red hairs lie flat and behave themselves? That white hair used to be red. It’s coming from the same place on my head. You’d think if the colour went out of it, it should be thinner and wimpier.
But no. As soon as the colour is gone, the hair follicle kicks into high gear like some freakishly pumped-up mutant superhero with ‘roid rage: “Aha, the kryptonite is gone! My super-powers are restored! Bam! Pow! Zap!”
I don’t know why it happens, but it does explain Albert Einstein’s ‘do. In a few more years, I’ll look just like him.
* * *
The other day I was out walking in the park behind our house when I came upon a used condom frozen into the snow, right in the middle of the path. It had snowed only a couple of days before, so I knew it was fresh (if such a term can be correctly applied, given the object in question). It had also been -25 degrees Celsius for the past week.
Which made me wonder: What quirk of intellect allows a person to have sufficient maturity, restraint, and judgement to practice safe sex under even the most rigorous (and I apply that word within the full range of its meanings) conditions… and still remain dumb enough to a) whip it out in the middle of a public park; and b) risk ending up with a cocksicle at -25?
Is there some sort of Polar Bear Sex Club or something? You know, like those hardy folks who jump into ice water for no apparent reason?
And could somebody please look that up and let me know? ‘Cause there’s no way I’m gonna google “Polar Bear Sex Club”.
What do you wonder about?
Author Diane Henders 
Pingback: We’re All Free! And Naked! | Diane Henders
Have you ever had someone take three hours to tell you about a ninety-minute movie? Or describe every tree and rock when giving directions to their house? I doubt you’ve been the scream-ee very often, Diane — you’re too self-aware. And such a good writer. The “…detailed description of the pickle they ate at lunch…” Perfect.
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Thanks, Charles! You’re right, the interminable movie descriptions are agonizing. But I’ve been spoiled lately because I spend most of my time alone in my home office in front of my computer – the only person who makes me want to scream these days is me. 🙂
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Polar sex club? Could be risky or is it risque’ ? Hell ,maybe it is both?
Funny stuff!
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LOL! I’m thinking both.
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This was great! I enjoyed all the stories.
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Thanks! And thanks for visiting and commenting. 🙂
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I’ve been the screamer and the scream-ee too! I do the rolling eyes thing as well…sometimes (I’m sad to say) it sort of escapes the psychic realm into the actual physical realm..though the scream inducers don’t seem to notice it…hmmm…
Maybe the frozen condom and the activities prior to it being frozen was part of someone’s uhmm…December 21st ..end of the world foray into sexual adventure thingy……?
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Hmm, maybe that makes sense. I’ve heard of people having more outlandish things on their bucket lists, so I guess I shouldn’t criticize. 🙂
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Happy new year, Diane.
I’m with you on the brevity in conversations. I hate it when people have to give my an complete chronological run down on how the decided something, when all I want to know is the decision.
As for the condom, I never knew Polar bears were eligible for family planning.
Cheers!
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Hi Nigel – Who knew? Last I heard they were on the endangered list, so you’d think condom use would be discouraged. Maybe that’s the reason for their population decline…
Happy New Year!
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You could start the Polar Bear Sex Club. Be an innovator. You’ve already ensured that anyone who googles the phrase will lead to this post.
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True… but I have a couple of logistical problems:
1) I don’t even like winter camping because it means I have to expose certain portions of my anatomy to the elements on a semi-regular basis. I’m not enthusiastic about any other activity that requires winter exposure, either.
And…
2) Even if I don’t actively participate in the club, it seems to me there’d be a certain minimum qualification for membership. And there’s only one way to verify qualification. And I really don’t want to have to look at those pictures.
Maybe I’ll just sell the rights to the name. Any offers?
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This idea is all you. Innovators overcome obstacles.
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I was afraid you were going to say that. Those words will be carved on my gravestone: “Polar Bear Sex Club: It’s all you.”
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One of my favorite college memories is of the time when we filled a condom with water, stuck it in the freezer, then pulled it out to toss around whenever guys would come visit. Its name was Theron, and brought us far too much amusement. For some reason, the guys seemed to find Theron threatening. No idea why.
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LOL! Guys are so sensitive. 🙂
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Or jealous. We did fill it pretty well, and water does expand when it freezes…
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hahaha! Cocksicle!!! (Harper would blush but secretly delight in this word.)
I fear I’m the cause of the psychic screams. I can almost detect it in someone’s expression while I’m talking.
I wonder if while I’m shopping for cucumbers, in the produce aisle, if other people are remembering that scene from “Animal House.” I have yet to choose cucumbers without feeling conspicuous. I’m usually looking over my shoulder. LOL!
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That’s a secret “wonder” of mine, too! I’m glad I’m not the only one furtively fingering the cucumbers. But now I won’t be able to grocery-shop without snickering. And I’m not sure which is more incriminating, a guilty glance over the shoulder or an evil grin…
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The white hairs are stiffer so they can stand up and say, “F*** you, we’re here. Deal with it.” At least, that’s what mine say to me. 😉
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Ah, those little bastards. I just knew they were giving me attitude!
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My mind wanders all the time when folk are talking to me, Diane… I think they know it too as my eyes tend to glaze over when I wander, so I’m not very discreet with my psychic screams. Oh, and my hair tends to misbehave at any given moment, so I’m looking forward to my Einstein do!
‘The condom in the snow’ sounds like a mystery that needs to be solved – but I’m not very good with mysteries!
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That’s okay, Tom, I’d much rather be faced with glazed eyes and know it’s time for me to shut up. It’s the wondering that kills me. 🙂
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I have been a ‘psychic screamer’ on many occasions (great term, by the way!). I think it’s due to my introversion. I don’t like making small talk, and I don’t like hearing it, which translates to: I won’t tell you about my lunch pickle, if you don’t tell me about yours… 😉
As for the hair thing, as our melanin goes, so does our hair’s moisture, thus leaving behind coarser gray hairs. That’s why those stinkers don’t like to behave.
And finally, the condom. Sorry. You’re on your own with that one…
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I teetered on the edge of making an off-colour pickle joke. I’m so glad you picked up the torch on that one.
So you’re saying that all my hair wants is a drink? Well, shit, who knew? I’ll get right on that. It might not fix the gray hairs, but at least I won’t care about them anymore. 🙂
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Haha. I love your attitude.
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…and please forgive me for flapping my gums while you psyche screamed SHUT UP at me. Oh, and let me tell you about my pickle…
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Um, fascinating… do go on… 🙂
Hurray for third-grade wonderings!
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As a sufferer of BSE -and may I thank you for finally identifying the affliction from which I have suffered so long so I may now file for medical deficiency- I too fear the letting my mind wander in a heigthened state of creativity which could inadvertently result in a natura; disaster of some sort. I tried to explain this very concept to my 3rd grade teacher whom only thought I was goofing off by staring out the window for hours. Little did she realize I was pushing the envelope of brain science!
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LOL! Yes, I have to agree – sometimes I’m the idiot flapping my gums and psychically screaming at myself, “Shut up! Shut UP!“
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Diane, these two absolutely apply to me: “Sometimes it’s because the person flapping their gums is expressing ideas so colossally stupid, I can’t believe they haven’t already choked on their own idiocy.”
and
“Sometimes it’s because the speaker is brilliant but my poor brain is full to the brim, and trying to pour more information into it is a complete waste of everyone’s time.”
Oh, how I know it… but then, probably unlike you, I go on to make gurgling noises that might be recognisable by some alien beings as speech, for rather too long til I, too, hear the screaming. And often I find I’m screaming at myself!
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I googled “Polar Bear Sex Club.” 2 results. This post was the first, a global warming debate was the second. 🙂
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Sweet! World domination is mine! Buwahahaha!
Of course, this means somewhere out there, some “serious” blogger is looking at their search term stats and going, “Polar bear sex club…? There are some really sick puppies out there…”
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