The True Meaning of Procrastinate

For definitions I always turn to my favorite linguist, Daniel Webster’s wife, Merriam. Here’s the way she defines the word in question: pro– forward + crastinus of tomorrow: to put off intentionally and habitually something that should be done.

My own multi-linguist definition begins with the “pro” at the beginning of the word. “Pro” implies that the person professing to procrastinate is a professional (say that three times fast). In other words, it takes a professional to be very good at putting things off. Amateurs need to “work” on their procrastinating skills, thus eliminating themselves from the group.

Procrastinators start early and stay up late. To truly become an expert one must do it all day. This involves sacrifice. You can’t go out, you shouldn’t get dressed or bathe. Brushing your teeth is optional. Lastly, ordering Chinese is the mark of a true professional.

By definition procrastinators can’t have a goal, but if they did, it would be to forget everything they have to do so they can relax and take time off.  And remember the procrastinators slogan: Procrastinate spelled backwards spells etanitsarcorp, which sounds like “ain’t it a sack of crap.”


Bad Face Day?

Sometimes I wish I was invisible. It happens when I’m tired, relaxing in my pajamas, and have totally neglected my grooming for a day or two. Have you ever done that? As long as no one sees you (husbands excepted), you’re okay, but what if you suddenly have to go out? What can you do to disguise your bad face day?

Suddenly you realize you’re out of something vital such as milk, coffee, ice cream or donuts, or another item that is necessary to your survival on the planet. Maybe your prescription needs refilled. Maybe your son needs a ride to kick-boxing class, or perhaps you left your driver’s license at the market.

Whatever emergency has occurred, you must leave the house. How can you disguise yourself quickly in case you see someone you know? What if they see you?

I’ve got just the remedy for a BAD FACE DAY, and it can be accomplished in five minutes. I timed it.

  1. Immediately put on a maid’s uniform. This has been known to fool many friends and neighbors, but not all. Don’t forget clunky shoes. You need to look like you’ve been cleaning the kitchen floor all day.
  2. Quickly smear WHITE OUT  all over your face. I recommend having at least a gallon of this cover-up ready for use.
  3. Plop a wig on your head. The wig must be a different color than your hair, so people will think you are someone else.
  4. Put a hat or scarf over the wig.
  5. Put on a pair of sunglasses.

By this time you should be disguised enough to fool your neighbors and friends. Move quickly once you’ve left the house. Get to your car immediately and jump in and shut the door. If you move really fast the neighbors can’t get a good look at you and will think you have hired a maid.

Movie stars have the hardest time being invisible. Every time they walk out the door some photographer is ready and waiting to get a picture of them. I can’t imagine a worse fate. If someone snaps a photo of them, a tabloid editor may decide to run the photo in an article called, “Bad Face Days for the Stars,” or “Who’s the Ugliest?” How do they handle it?

They follow the above instructions and remember to move quickly once they’re outside the house. Any photographs that are taken will probably be blurred and the tabloids can’t use them. Ha ha!

There is one drawback to this plan, so watch out for it. You will forget you look terrible and see yourself in a mirror. Inexperienced women have been known to scream. After going to so much trouble to disguise yourself, try not to be frightened by the maid in the mirror.


Turkeys Queuing up for Badminton

I have to admit I was ignorant about the abilities of turkeys. There have been so many jokes about these birds I just figured they must be as stupid as people say. However, last spring I had the most amazing experience. I saw a flock of turkeys walking across our backyard, and I ran to get my camera. I got the shot of the birds, never even noticing they were headed for the badminton net.

Later on, I looked out and I was astounded when the turkeys began gathering around the net. From out of nowhere they produced racquets and birdies. They separated into two teams, males and females and began volleying the birdies across the net. It was amazing how good they were. Who would’ve thought? And you wouldn’t believe the noisy gobbling!

The female turkeys won three games to two. They celebrated by pecking the male turkeys all the way home to their nests in the woods. Unfortunately, none of the pictures of the turkeys playing badminton turned out, but I have this one to prove that turkeys will line up to play.

Do you have any anecdotes involving turkeys that you’d like to share?

Are you an Oxy Moron?

Is the expression “just plain crazy” an oxymoron? I am nominating it, because people are either plain or they’re crazy. How can someone be both? If you’re crazy you will automatically do many things that show that you are not plain: such as stopping in the middle of the sidewalk or the mall and turning around quickly and going the other way. Plain people don’t do that. They continue on for a few feet, pretend to stop at a store window and then slowly meander back the way they came. In other words, they are just as insane as the crazy people, but they know how to cover it up.

Perhaps all plain people are crazy people who know how to “act” plain.

How about people who talk to themselves? The plain people only do that when they are at home by themselves, so no one can hear them. Crazy people do it whenever they feel like it. That way they can hash out any type of inner argument from any angle. I’m sure lawyers must do this a lot when they are preparing for a court case. At least I would. Or course, I’m not a lawyer, I’m a crazy person.

Actually I once learned that it is healthy to talk to yourself when you’re alone, because part of your brain is listening and figuring out if what you’re saying is true or not. How many of us believe that one?

Another sign of being crazy is sharing way too much personal information at the first meeting. A plain person waits until the second or third meeting and then blows their new friend away with a whooper. I believe the term is TMI, too much information.

How about the person behind you in the check out line who gets too close? Are they oxy morons or just plain crazy? I have learned several defenses against these people who are  breathing down my neck.

1. I turn slightly and stick my elbow out so they can only get as close as the end of my elbow. Ha!

2. Leaving my groceries where they are on the conveyer belt, I move up to the front of my cart and let them hover around the back. That’ll teach them.

3. If the just plain crazy person still comes up behind me I turn around and glare at them. If I had more courage I’d say something like “Back off lady.” (These boundary breakers are usually women, aren’t they?)

Actually I would never have the nerve to say that to anyone. They might hit me. Glaring is about as violent as I get, oxy morons or not.

The Multipologist

During my first ½ year of blogging about multiple personality I have made up several words that need attention from Webster’s wife Merriam and his daughter, Kory.

Multiple – a person who has more than one personality. The aforementioned person may or may not know about it. The psychiatric community diagnoses these unfortunates as having Dissociative Identity Disorder. They may consider themselves insane, crazy, deranged, a kook, or a nut case. In my case, I knew I was crazy from the age of four, but doctors of psychology didn’t find my “alters” until I was fifty. In other words, it is very hard to diagnose a multiple.

Deranged – A crazy person with no ability to think clearly. Blogger.

Derangement – Rearranging the furniture until one feels deranged and/or nauseated.

Multipology – The study of patients with multiple personality. One could possibly receive a degree in multipology, i.e. a BS in multipology (not a Bachelor of Science degree.)

Multipologist – One who feels apologetic about studying multiples, or is an expert in the field of multipology.

Multipoligamist – One who is married to a multiple or several multiples.

Weirdom – A state of being weird and unable to do anything but type.  May closely follow an episode of derangement. Seek professional help.

Lastly but not leastly, here is the dictionary definition: Multiple personality n (1901) an hysterical neurosis in which the personality becomes dissociated into two or more distinct but complex and socially and behaviorally integrated  parts each of which becomes dominant and controls behavior from time to time to the exclusion of the others.

I recently came across a blog I love. It is called Harmless Drudgery, and the writer, Kory Stamper, claims that she is seeing life from inside the dictionary, mainly because she works at Merriam-Webster. I can’t imagine a better job than being around words all day, except that, since we think in words, it might become difficult to think clearly after lunch. Perhaps Kory receives visitors on the job, and I could bring her my list of words.

The conversation could go something like this:

“Hi Kory, I’m Nancy and I made up some words for the dictionary.”

“I’m sorry, Nancy, but we can’t put words into the dictionary until they are commonly used.”

“They are commonly used. I use them all the time.”

“By commonly used, I mean a lot of people must use them in common conversation.”

“Maybe they do use them!”

“Maybe they don’t.”

“Well, I do, and I want them in the dictionary.”

“Too bad, until they come across my desk as being in common usage, Merriam-Webster doesn’t put them in the dictionary.”

“Well, humph! Do you happen to have the address for Funk and Wagnalls?” (I leave the office feeling somewhat deranged).

The Blog-O-Meter

The Blog-O-Meter was recently developed by Dr.  Seribe Rul Cortext of Weir Leary Labs in Berkeley. You can measure your blog progress with this unique chart. What’s your Blog-O-Meter reading?

Much Ado About Dancing

I belong to a line dancing group. I travel the twenty miles to town twice a week to practice or perform because I love dancing, I can see my friends and it’s good exercise. The group is free to older people. I’m not really old, but they let me dance with them because I’m so talented. I usually only fall once or twice during practice, and I never lie about my age.

The first odd thing I noticed about the group is that the lines aren’t straight! I am a very organized person and it bothers me when people don’t stand in the right spot. I have to control myself in order not to straighten them.

The second odd thing about the group, which is mostly ladies, is that there are too many dances per brain. Unfortunately that includes my brain too. There must be at least 200 dances in the repertoire, and most of the dances are named according to the song and the name of the dance. That makes two names for every one dance. For example, you have a dance called Wanna Be Elvis, which is danced to the song Elvis Tonight. It can be referred to by either name. This makes Confusion the name of the song.

The cardinal sin of line dancing is going the wrong direction. If you miss a step while we’re all facing front, the audience isn’t likely to notice. But when everyone else is turning to the back of the room and you’re happily dancing to the front, it becomes very obvious who’s doing it wrong.

Most of us are followers. Some of the good dancers have been going to the group for more than five years, and they usually know the dances. Everyone else, including myself, follows the good dancers. The part I love the best is when one of the “good” dancers mis-steps. Half the people in the room follow her, while the other half keep doing what they hope is correct. We start going every which way. It looks like the Mall Food Court at noon, or Grand Central Station at rush hour. Some of the dancers, including me, begin laughing their guts out, practically falling over. Which dance is this? The Confusion Waltz or The Left Foot Lindy? Or my all time favorite, Somebody Lost Me!

For some reason the teacher isn’t laughing. She stops the music. You can see her disappointment as she gazes at her students, shaking her head. Then she takes a deep breath and starts teaching the dance again. You’ve got to hand it to her, she keeps trying.

Scientists Discover Funny Bone

Recently, two scientists from Weir Leary Research Labs in Berkeley, California were found rolling on the floor of their laboratory giggling and laughing out loud. They professed to have found a picture of a funny bone on their x-ray screen, and they could hear it laughing. See below.

The scientists, Morton Jibberish and Phemius Phullhardy received a million dollar grant in 2012, to explore their hypothesis that the funny bone exists in many humans, but is entirely missing in others. When present in the human body, the bone is located between the true ribs and the false ribs, and has been named the mockternal articulation. A third scientist, Alred E. Gone, who worked with Jibberish and Phullhardy for several years, has been admitted for treatment to Shaky Grounds, the local mental hospital.

Who Pulled the Plug on Cyberspace?

Suddenly, a few weeks back, my Cyber-world disappeared. I was shocked. Where was my bright little screen that connected me to all my cyber-buddies? No blogs, no Facebook, no email, no internet. It was awful. I couldn’t even play Freecell.

Since then my blog has become a clog, and I am not a word plumber. My words have all stuck somewhere in my mind and can’t seem to come out. Help me please. I am spouting word glue! I need some “Brain Draino!” or a bottle of “Liquid Mind Plumber!”

I have decided the only way to clear my mind of word glue is to spew out all my fears at once and then move on. I hope it works. Here goes:

I am afraid of the dire prediction that time will end on December 21, 2012. What if we lose all our electricity and we never get it back? Aloha to the Internet and all our blogs. Can you see us printing them up by hand? (If there’s no electricity, there will be no copiers or printers). If we could print them, we would have to go house to house to distribute them.

We would be the nomads of the world, going from neighborhood to neighborhood, city to city, and country to country, handing out our blogs. We would become the news carriers of our areas, but how would we survive? Who would feed us? Where would we sleep?

People would say, “There goes another poor traveling blogger.”

And what if people didn’t like our blogs? Would they stone us or incarcerate us in dungeons? (If so, we will probably be joined by many “D&D gamers” who would finally rejoice that their game had become real.)

The conclusion to this mind drainage is this: Without electricity blogging would be no more. Wanh! (That’s the sound of me crying.)

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Other Multiples

If you know someone with multiple personalities, please tell them about my blog. I would like to connect with them