MetaChat is an informal place for MeFites to touch base and post, discuss and
chatter about topics that may not belong on MetaFilter. Questions? Check the FAQ. Please note: This is important.
29 May 2009
It's Time For Another Installment of ":Ask LT Anything!" →[More:]
In which LT answers your burning, personal queries, nagging questions, and existential cul-de-sacs.
Mama raised me right. I cannot accurately say if we are to be wed PRIOR TO ever meeting you in real life.
However, having said this, I believe that we do have an excellent friendship that would undoubtedly grow deeper and warmer if we were to meet, perhaps in New York City at the time and place of your choosing.
Well, we're going to have to do a culture, run some tests, before I can diagnose this. By the looks of it, it's nothing serious, although the swelling is of concern to me.
I will have someone from the front desk contact you when we've read the culture.
Why can my son never remember to take the trash to the curb before the trash guy comes even when I say to him just before I leave for work, "Hey, dude. It's trash day. Take the stuff to the curb." All these years later, guys are still a mystery.
What, indeed. Sometimes life catches us off-guard and we are left speechless.
We are all forced into a bystander role in this twisting twenty-first century, post-millenial speed trap lifestyle.
Give yourself room to breathe. There will always be that "what-" moment. Entire ad campaigns, viral videos and political platforms are currently engaged in keeping the populace in that peripheral view.
Be strong. Shunryu Suzuki, noted Zen poet and philosopher, says this "There is no what - the face of your face before you were born."
Do you think Jack will eventually be okay? Will he be more than just okay or significantly less than okay? Please tell me what you really think, not just what you think I want to hear. Thank you, LT.
Kids and trash collection - a conundrum as old as bipedal endeavor itself. 100,000 years ago, cavemen would drag their knuckles over to the lip of the cave and grunt about the sabretooth bones gathered there. Then they'd fart and scratch themselves and go get eaten by something bigger.
I can't live Jack's life for him. I know, I know - we're all concerned. Believe me, I'm concerned, you're concerned. It's no laughing matter.
But behind all that, even you in your concern must admit that only Jack can decide what Jacks wants and needs - even if his decision-making ability leads him to less-than optimal situations.
Wisdom comes from such moments, Kangaroo. The best any of us can do is be there for Jack no matter what.
Why would you want your cat to woof? Are you this way with everyone who's close to you or are you sublimating through your pets?
My advice to you is to take a moment and just be with your cat. Notice the way your cat moves, eats, interacts with you. Notice when your cat blinks at you - that is a sign of extreme affection in the feline world, and not to be taken for granted.
I think you'll find that moment when you and the cat are genuinely interacting, and your need to impose species-specific traits will dissipate over time.
Of course, if by "cat" you mean something about your relationship with your wife, there are toys and some good catalogs I can turn you on to.
The past is the past, whether it's dubious memory or a simple chicken recipe. The great spiritual traditions of the world would point us to the realization that these two are one, in fact.
My advice to you is look at your bedtime in a new way. Instead of wondering whose bed/how did I get here/what's with all this makeup/spent Kleenex/Boy Scouts/rawhide saddlery, say to yourself this mantra every morning,
"my bed is my reward at the end of the day. It is a sanctuary where true rest is waiting. I will remember this and welcome it daily. And remember to switch out the rubber sheets twice weekly."
As for the chicken recipe, I find lemon and parsnips to be too tart and acidic together. Why not a nice chard complemented with a spicy Indian glaze?
It's Friday night, it's hot and humid. Should we (myself and mr. amyms) spend the last $5.00 of our "entertainment" budget on icy cold Dairy Queen treats or icy cold beer?
This is a no-brainer. You and Mr. take that there five whole American dollars and go directly to the DQ, go smartly up to the counter and say the following:
"Two Buster Bars pronto, my good sir! And good day to you!"
Buster Bars from Dairy Queen are proof God Loves Each and Every Last One of Us Up In This Hizzy.
"Two Buster Bars pronto, my good sir! And good day to you!"
Wow, how did you know that Buster Bars are our DQ treat-of-choice? I purposefully didn't mention specifics because I didn't want to be accused (*cough* by mr amyms *cough*) of trying to sway the voting.
You, LT, are an astute (and possibly psychic) advice-giver. Thanks for your help!
Speaking of being naked, here's a fun little domestic trick that is guaranteed to make not only chores more bearable, but also will spice up your romantic life on a dreary day.
What I suggest is to get Mr. Jonathanstrange or Boyfriend/Girlfriend-to-Jonathanstrange excited about Naked Cleaning Day.
It's simply this: make a list of your chores, all of them. Tell Mr. Jonathanstrange that today all of them will get done, but with this caveat:
do them all naked (as much as can be done that is - I'm assuming here you have laundry facilities in your own home). With all the bending, and reaching, and muscle movement involved in simple chores, I guarantee before too long Mr. will find some way to distract you in a very pleasant and direct way.
In this way, not only do you get your chores on, but you get your freak on as well. And nothing makes doing mundane housework better than frequent quickies.
Not only is it fail-safe, but make sure when laundry is done, to model something sexy for New Boy while it's warm and fresh right out the dryer. Get his opinion right there of anything he likes to see you in before he gets you out of it again.
Who make fuck and dick fall off, I make fuck try to have dick stay on? Is a patent medicine for fuck dick stay on? Because dick fall off and never get married.
Also are red middle part best and softer? I don't feel so.
With all due respect, you may have that backwards. It's not that their crazy, it's that their brave enough to trust themselves against the distractions of the world. At least to show up and sit with them, that is.
Let me explain:
Our world is based on constant, draining, 24-hour distraction from Self.
The messages we start absorbing at the outset are not "You're okay, you're doing fine, all is well.", but "something's missing in your life - we know what it is!", or "don't YOU want to be like the countless others who have found success - ask us how!"
The crazy ones who look interesting from the outside are people who can feel that difference. Whether they end up with a constructive, life-affirming result or for horrific, catastrophic consequences.
But the point is, they made time to feel it.
IF you ask me, the real crazies are the folks you run into in your daily round who always say the same things at the water cooler, or always have an opinion on the weather. People become satisfied with routines because they're safe in them. They know what worked before, will work again and it keeps the boogeymen away.
Einstein once famously said, "the definition is insanity is doing the same thing each time and expecting a different result."
Or, put another way - learn to bend when the breeze comes. Sure, you'll look pretty weird, but your legs will grow stronger the next time you ask them to support you. Instead of say, snapping outright.
Koans like the one you cited have existed for millenia. They have tortured the minds and bodies of men who literally dedicated their entire beings to a satisfactory answer.
And still, dick fall off, no fuck.
The earliest known pictographs from Mesopotamia represent the etymological beginnings of the word "marriage" as two vertical lines with a thick horizontal bulb in the middle that cuts the 2nd vertical line in half, and what appears to be a lightning bolt striking between them.
My best advice? For best no dick fall off more fuck results? Get off manually a half hour before you get busy. A little quick wind sprint before the marathon never hurt anyone.
Can send this manual via air post? Arrive from I can pick up with cousine but is running too much windy, stop breath in, then noise like owl, "Whoooooo!" then stop again, car starts. Cupcake help twice.
Here is your answer: if your boyfriend asked himself that same question this evening, would you be okay with either option yourself? If so, maybe you should break up with him.
Do you have children? If so, have they ever, say, dropped all their mushed carrots n' peas all over the linoleum right after you shined it sparkly-bright?
What did you do then? Do you still have the child?
Or try this: imagine being the cat. You spend your entire day surrounded by clumsy Giants who don't speak Cat, are entirely unpredictable when they're not being outright boring, and half the time they don't listen to your most basic needs.
You think you're being clear as day. You meow when you need their attention, you clean up after yourself (you know what and where the litter box is), and you blink at them reassuringly all the damn time.
But you also get sick sometimes. Stuff doesn't stay down easy - your guts aren't twisty like the Giant's are. The last thing you need right then is for a lot of loud banging and rage from the Giants to start up. So you find a comfy spot under the bed to let your tummy settle, maybe take a little snooze.
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
