Pleasure Notes

by Michael Flick / flickr

All it takes, really, is a runny nose, a sore throat or a cough for me to shed all vestiges of adulthood and revert completely to infantile behavior. When I get sick, I become a baby. I suddenly have no will to think or act for myself. My verbal skills shrink to groans, moans and whines. My head spins with memories of every pharmaceutical ad I’ve ever seen, and I stare blankly into my medicine cabinet with no ability to discern what magic I should swallow to make myself feel better. Maybe ice cream? But it’s not in the medicine cabinet, so I must be out.

And those damn child-proof bottle tops bring me to tears.

All I really want, in no particular order, is…

• a blankie
• a mommy
• a guillotine
• a lung vacuum
• softer kleenex
• a foot massage
• a back rub
• an oxygen tank
• a heating pad
• an ice pack
• a lollipop
• a curly-cue straw

And if I have to battle germs, can I please at least get Kathleen Turner’s voice for a little bit? I wanna make a prank call.

How do you handle having a cold?

I used to wish madly for a magic pill that would solve all my problems. I used to think that one day I would wake up as an Adult – with a capital “A” – and everything would make sense. I used to think that life came with a very detailed instruction booklet which somehow I’d just misplaced. I’ve grown up a bit since then. Now I believe that my problems are only as big as the room I give them to fill. I believe that adulthood isn’t a proper noun, and very little makes sense. I believe that if there is a very detailed instruction booklet out there, I don’t want to find it. Don’t worry. I’m far from being any sort of Pollyanna. I have my share of challenges and moments of cynicism. I see the world’s burden of conflicts. But I’ve spent enough of my life wanting to escape, preferably into a Happily Ever After with a rockin’ soundtrack. I now choose to embrace the insanity of life on life’s terms. I’m no longer looking for the balloons to carry me away. I’ll just stay here, rooted to the ground, and let go – to watch with pleasure as they float toward the clouds on their own.

By Katie Lee/Flickr

Are you still looking for a fairytale ending?

Engrossing novels, long walks along pine needle-cushioned paths, friendly philosophical debates while caught in doorways – these things bring me pleasure. Widgets, RSS feeds, CSS sheets, HTML, and all other computer-based acronyms – these things make me want to pull my hair out, one deep-rooted follicle at a time. I adopt each new technological advance only after it is tried, true, and passé. As an example, I acquired a digital camera only after the hard-working folks at CVS gave me a blank stare when asked where the Kodak envelopes were in which I could drop my film for developing. It is with deep shock, therefore, that I find myself embracing the blogosphere, tweet world, and “social media” prior to the creation of whatever comes after the web.

Luddite laptop created by Big Time Attic

How did this happen? Ignorance, I tell you. I had no idea that my spontaneous decision mere weeks ago to documenting things that bring me pleasure would thrust me so deeply into the alternate universe of technology. I have spent the waning days of 2008 learning more about FeedBurner, favicons, and FTPs than I ever thought I’d need to know. Ever. The journey has tested me, perhaps made me stronger, and certainly made it easier to subscribe to my blog. And it is not over. As I reflect on what 2009 may bring, I know I have much to learn, and not just about web 2.0. I couldn’t be more excited!

Magic Pill

I’ve always been a magic pill kind of person. I just want to flip a switch or press a button and have what I want, EXACTLY what I want, appear in working fashion before me. Patience is a virtue I misplaced in the process of exiting the womb – except I was delivered by C-section, but you get the picture.

Recently, however, I’ve found myself noticing signposts leading away from the magic pill approach to life. I’m not saying that I plan on diving into any wombs to retrieve an errant virtue. Or anything else, for that matter. I am saying that my intention in the coming months is to rewrite my story, the one about who I am and what I can and cannot do in this amazing life. Perhaps I am not such a Luddite after all. And if that is the case, what else may or may not be true about myself?

So here’s to discarding expectations, and joyfully embracing the unknown in 2009. Let’s be pleasurably surprised by what we reveal of ourselves and what we let ourselves achieve. Happy New Year!