September 2008


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Is it possible that children are so simple-minded that we all view our worlds in a very similar fashion, or has Stephanie Klein somehow tapped into a stream of consciousness, one that feels so private and heartwarming?  This isn’t the first time I feel like she’s read my mind, but posts like this keep me subscribed to her blog.  I wish I her talent for words.

Those days where the lawn seemed large, where the driveways seemed immense, where everything seemed bigger, and home always felt like socks warmed on a radiator. Not so young that peanut butter smeared on an apple passed as a fun snack, but young enough not to know what it’s like to miss. Young enough where you don’t know any differently, where life feels like it will always be lived in the walls of your house. When you think that room of yours will always be yours. Where home life consists of your mother dragging you through her errands, getting a lollipop from the man at the dry cleaners, a sticker from the lady at the bank. You hold your nose when your mother forces you to accompany her into the seafood store for a pound of flounder and some raw deveined shrimp. Your father clunks his way up the stairs in his heavy leather shoes, breifcase in hand, the one you always saw on his bed, with that yellow legal pad, a place for a pen, but the calculator was on his desk. You liked those golden little dials, the combination on the outside. Your favorite part was pushing those little chicklet buttons, watching the clasps fly open. It was the closest you came to a trap door. Those days were spent fighting your sister for your parents’ attention after a day filled with school bells, hallways, cafeteria ladies, and bus stops.  More…

If you are anything like me, which if you aren’t, I am sorry, but since we’ll assume you are, that means you love (among commas and excessive punctuation), all things that are within the realm of the tasty pumpkin pie palate.

This past Saturday, whilst I was at the hair salon, I noticed a new flavor adorning the ranks of their candy bowl.

Hershey’s kisses pumpkin spice flavor!!! (If and when you try one, you will see why that needed three exclamation points and had to be shown in bold typeface).  I proceeded to eat 3 of them in rapid succession, followed by 2 on my way out (hey it was a 2 hour and 20 minute appointment, a girl’s gotta eat).  Unfortunately, the second one i grabbed “for later” got melty in my pocket.  I had to lick the wrapper when I got in my car.

They had a candy corn flavor too, but, I don’t like candy corn.  These, however, were a little morsel of divinity.  Do yo’self a favor and grab a bag or two next time you’re out!

om nom nom

om nom nom

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There’s a great post on Mental Floss today about certain anomolies that can occur as we sleep.  Given that I write a lot of my dreams down on this little blog’o’mine, the article caught my attention – particularly the section on the “exploding head syndrome”.

Here’s the article:  10 Sleep Snippets

And here’s my comment:

This is one of my favorite topics as I often have EXTREMELY intense and bizarre dreams (which I blog about frequently).  I never knew that “exploding head syndrome” existed, but it definitely happened to me once and it was certainly one of the most fearful experiences of my life.  I woke up because I thought my apartment exploded.  I heard a very loud noise in my head and I woke up literally screaming.  My husband FREAKED out and it took me a few seconds to come to terms with the fact that we were both fine.  Unfortunately for me, the anxiety and terror lasted hours.  While I could rationalize that what had occured was in my head, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was trying to destroy me.  I refused to let my husband touch me because I honestly believed he was trying to kill me; like his fingers were going to bore into my flesh and rip my organs out.  I also kept looking over my shoulder and could not sit still, like there was a “bad guy” lurking around every corner waiting for me to let my guard down.  My husband said I looked like a deer in headlights.  It was an absolutely horrible night and neither of us got over it for quite some time.  It still gives me the creeps just remembering the details.  For a while I assumed it was a night terror, but since those only happened to children (or so I thought) I never really had much of a diagnosis.  I’ll be doing more research on this exploding head thing now.  See, another reason why I’m glad I read Mental Floss!  Thanks, Stacy!

As far as the Hypnagogic Jerk thing goes, that happens to me just about every night.  I heard once, most likely from an unreliable source, that it’s a result of your soul or subconscious mind trying to “go out and enter the dreamworld”, metaphysically speaking.  Sort of like an old woman trying to get up from an easy chair… it can take a few tries.

So far my Googling hasn’t turned up too much on Exploding Head syndrome, and luckily my experience was an isolated incident.  I’m still amazed at all that goes on in our brains and would love to be part of some experimental research project on sleep and dreaming (as long as a safe return to my accustomed level of normalcy can be assured).

Neato.

it’s an 80’s themed week, evidently.

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Divine work by Ms. Silverman!

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