Friday, April 5, 2013

I am Epic and Awesome: Part Duex

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  Not only did I just get another blog award, but word on the street is that it was named after me!  See for yourself...

In case you don't know, my Native American name translates to "She of Epic Awesomeness" (to be honest, there IS some debate about it; there seems to be a small chance that it actually translates to "She With Ass That Rumbles," but whatevs).

Me receiving this award is just so damn appropriate, and since this moment is all about ME, part of the conditioning that allows me to accept this award is that I write ten interesting "facts" about myself.  You're welcome.  But first, I need to send a BIG shout out to Bad Word Mama for giving me this award, and for being a constant source of support and encouragement and kind feedback since I began this blog.  Y'all go check her out: she's real, she's honest, and she's funny.  What more could one possibly want in a blogger?!?

Addendum (made April 8, 2013): I am officially Epic Awesomeness TIMES TWO!  Another incredibly funny and talented blogger has nominated me for this award: thanks SO much to Lanthie over at Life of Cherries for the blog props!! I am truly honored and humbled by all this blove <---just borrow="" em="" free="" it.="" made="" that="" to="" up...feel="">

Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for...ten things about me that will bring completion to your day - perhaps your existence:

1.) After 20 hours of labor, I had to have a C-section.  I had two OBGYNs at the time.  One of them was knowledgeable and kind, and the other was a pompous bag of douche.  As it happens, the arrogant shit-licker was on-call when it was time for me to "go under the knife."  So, he performed the operation/delivery, and two days later  - when they finally took the catheter out - I got up to use the bathroom and happened upon a glimpse of my ass in the mirror.  I shit you not, ladies and gents: that fucker had drawn a smiley face on my ass with his operation pen!!

2.) I haven't pooped in three days.

3.) I suffer horribly from insomnia...and when I do sleep, I am often plagued with horrible nightmares. Last year, for almost the ENTIRE year, I had apocalyptic dreams every night until one night I had one that was so bad it took the hubs a good 20 minutes to calm me down.  I was convulsing (literally, my body was convulsing) from utter terror.  You have to understand, I am someone that is quite accustomed to be accosted by scary shit in the wee hours, but this one was different.  Here's the interesting part: apparently, it was so horrible that even as I convulsed and bawled my way through trying to describe it to the hubs, my mind went into protection mode and started wiping it from my memory.  In a matter of minutes, it went from an all-too-clear recall of horror to vague and smeary images of something far away.  THAT'S how bad it was, my friends.

4.) I often have prophetic dreams and visions.  I wish I was kidding.

5.) I blow my morning breath into my dog's face to see how he reacts.  If he doesn't run away whimpering, I don't bother brushing my teeth.  I am, of course, totally kidding about the last part.  Or am I???

6.) I am a practical joke GENIUS. 

7.) I truly believe that my mother tried to smother me when I was an infant.  I would bet money on it, and I'm not a bettin' gal.

8.) I have a condition known as prosopagnosia, or face-blindness.  There are varying degrees of this disorder; I am mildly to moderately afflicted.  This means that I can look directly at someone, they can walk away, and I will not recognize them when they return mere moments later.  Once I become familiar with a person, I can easily recognize them. 

9.) I think it is absolutely ridiculous when a man makes a big deal out of having to buy famine products for the woman or women in his life.  Man up!  Be proud that you know the difference between the various tampon absorbencies!!

10.) I think I was a decorated general in WWII in a past life.  I can watch movies about any other war, but not that one.  I made the mistake of watching Saving Private Ryan, and I felt physically ill through the entire movie.  It made my soul itch.  That night, I awoke sitting straight up in bed, using military hand-gestures.  In the dream I was giving commands in military-speak of which I was not consciously aware I had any knowledge.  It was so real, and graphic, yet there was no time to feel fear as the general I was.  There was only action...and concern for the soldiers under me. award image in this post and on my page: check. Give (sincere) props and link y'all to the blogger with awesome taste that nominated me: check. Share ten weird "facts" about myself: check.

As the final acceptance requirement: I get the honor of acknowledging some stellar bloggers by nominating some of my own faves (some may have already received this particular award, or some may not enjoy the process of receiving these awards by having to adhere to the "rules," but even so, this is my way of honoring you and your craft, as well as pimping you out to as many readers as possible).  And the Epically Awesome Blog Award goes to....

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

The 26th Ingredient - Torture

Note: If you are new to this blog, you may want to first try Cooking without a Spoon (the List referenced can be found here ). You will likely find the flow of descriptive language and metaphorical purpose easier to follow and more meaningful. OR, you can just throw caution to the wind, and do whatever the hell you want: begin here, pick something random, or hang out back in the April 2012 archive with the A to Z Blog Challenge. Despite your method of entry, thanks for stopping by the Basement. Please excuse the mess...

"Torture  - noun.  1). the act of inflicting excruciating pain, as punishment or revenge, as a means of getting a confession or information, or for sheer cruelty.  2). extreme anguish of body or mind; agony."  ---iphone Dictionary app b/c I am too lazy to get up and lift my 100 lb Webster's Unabridged; seriously, I have held toddlers that weigh less---

I've been staring at this word, torture, for some time now...not b/c I don't recall why I added it to the List, but b/c I DO remember - all too clearly - the why, the what, and the who of this one.  "Extreme anguish of body OR MIND."  In this way, I am the Perpetrator.  I am the Victim.  I am the Arresting Authority.  I am Defense and Prosecution, as well as Judge and Jury.  I am the Executioner.  And, I am the blood-thirsty Spectators. 

I am all of these things - not people, but things.  I am but one person with a thousand perspectives, and these things(?): they are the vantage points: dangerous and daunting; relentless in depth and altitude, and stingy with oxygen.

Allow me to make some introductions:

The Perpetrator: a hostile Perspective with too many masks to count; so many masks, in fact, that it seems almost humorous to think that they all will one day face execution.  The Perpetrator does not sleep, ever.  There is no time.  The Perpetrator does not clean. The victims are gathered so often that it seems a silly practice to clean between "projects."  Some of torturous ambition have rites and rituals to apply to their work; but, not this Perp.  There is not time for such things, and to waste time is to waste anguish.

The Victim: a vast Perspective of memory and emotion.

The Arresting Authority (AA): a growing Perspective.  Having undergone intense training over the years, the AA is no longer a cadet, but not yet a Captain.

The Defense: a dark and senseless Perspective. Recognizing every bit of guilt, the Defense always makes a mad dash to the Perpetrator.

The Prosecution: a well-meaning, but hopelessly obsessed Perspective.

The Judge: a fickle Perspective.  The Judge is not so concerned with lawful abiding as adherence to the mood of the moment.  The Judge has been known to turn as harshly on the Victim as the Perpetrator.  This is a judge that can be bought, and sold.

The Jury: a varying Perspective.  The Jury is a collection of cause and effect; occurrence and lesson.  A juxtaposition of grand ideals and misguided judgments, resulting from a broken collaboration between the Defense and Prosecution.

The Executioner: an over-zealous Perspective.  The Executioner desires to end all things that get in the way of beginnings; however, it should be well-noted that anyone wielding a sharp blade and an eager swing is likely to have bad aim.

The Spectators:  an endless array of (mostly) antagonistic Perspective.  Among the Spectators awaiting the Executioner's "show" are the curious, the hostile, the irrevocably sad, the hopeless, the instigators, the unforgiving, the scorned, the grieving...on and on it goes.  Eventually, each Spectator will become one of two things: Victim, or Perpetrator.

I cannot say why I've spent most of my life so hell-bent on creating new and improved versions of the Perpetrator; I cannot say how long I will allow myself to fall myself.  But, I can say that my role as Arresting Authority is growing, and I am becoming pretty well-versed in recognizing the various costumes that the Perp is wont to wear.  Do not misunderstand: It remains fairly common that I get duped by the appearance of new masks, or monumentally horrified by how innovative the Perp can be in the design and construct of torturous tools and techniques; nor am I immune to the regret and heartbreak when I happen upon cold-case files, revisited.  But let the Perp underestimate me, I say.  Because, these days, I am a lot less likely to question my judgment as Arresting Authority and far more inclined to simply lock and load. 

One day, I hope to be strong enough to have an answer to any questioning motives of the Judge.  I hope to be wise enough to somehow ensure a diversely sound Jury selection without the assistance of misery's willing accomplice or the obsessive result-seeker.  I hope to find a way to appeal to the Executioner's vision in a way that slows her pulse and steadies her swing.  But mostly, once the Perp has been identified, arrested, tried, convicted, and sentenced...I hope - one day, as the Executioner stands ready - for the strength and wherewithal to convince the Spectators that there is no place for them there, because the only Perspectives required at that time are the ones willing to look away, and change.