Random Thoughts

I'm starting a new entry on totally unimportant, useless thoughts and questions that pop into my mind. I figure if I release them into the world they will stop haunting me. Here's one that drives me batty:

Why do drive-up ATM's have braille on them?

Stay Away from the Chicken Farm

Ever smelled a chicken farm? No? Take my advice, stay as far away from the chicken farm as your VISA card will take you. Trust me on this. What about egg farms, you ask? Same as a chicken farm, as my olfactory senses learned last fall in western AZ. Don't worry, the only way you will end up in this far flung town is if you work for the largest nuclear plant in the country,..or the egg farm. Although the guy on the side of the main road as you head into town selling nuts would make a fortune selling gas masks instead. Seriously, bring a gas mask or an astronaut helmet. It seems like a charming, rural Arizona town with towering mountain ranges to the south and land as far as the eye can see. Charming that is, until this horrendous, indescribable pestilent smell creeps into your car's vents. At first you think it will pass, like skunk stink. Then it quickly floods your nasal cavity with a combination of salty, sulfuric and just plain nasty. As I gasped for a sliver of unpolluted oxygen, I hollered "what's that smell?" over and over as my seemingly oblivious husband looked over quizzically...until it hit him. How could such a sleepy, quiet town exude such a rancid aroma? The big, blue sign reading Hickman's Egg Farm said it all. That and the dead chickens across the street. Apparently, some of the smarter chickens tried to make a run for it, only to be killed by the loose dogs in a neighborhood yard. Why did the chicken cross the road? To escape slavery. As we reached the plot of dirt we drove out to see, I could not understand why anyone would live here. Miles away now, the offending scent was still quite present and as a backdrop, the majestic mountain range had a permanent cloud of low fog, a gift from the nearby nuclear plant. Oh, yes, and let us not forget the air horns visibly staked in the event of a nuclear meltdown. Really, what are the air horns for? To warn residents of impending death or permanent zombie hood when they clearly don't stand a chance of escaping?? Land is cheap out there and owning your dream ranch is attainable. I suppose someone needs to man the nuclear plant and I prefer locally grown eggs. But who knew chickens could emit such a foul odor? Disclaimer: I wrote this for you to laugh at my city girl silliness and chose not to name the town in question to protect the chickens.

Lighten Your Load

Ever notice how some people are constantly looking back? They live in coulda, woulda, shoulda land? Living in the past and wishing they'd done..whatever they didn't do? Don't you just want to scream "snap out of it!" I mean, who cares? Alright, my rant is over, whew, I feel better. If we are constantly looking back we will miss what is ahead and either, lose out on an opportunity, or hit a light pole. Don't get me wrong, we need to learn from our mistakes but why flog ourselves over it? Maybe I am missing that regret gene. Not being the most impulsive human probably eases the lack of regret. Not that I don't think being impulsive is fun, I've jumped into plenty of fountains in my time and even clambered over the balcony of a 9th story building once (to my defense I was only 10 and stupidly lucky). But regret is a waste of mind time and a depressant at that. Kicking old habits is not for the faint of heart, but kicking regret out of your consciousness will release you from your past. How to start? As one who lacks the regret gene, I can only speak from my personal vault. Think through major decisions and gather all the facts before jumping in. Apply the Golden Rule to EVERY action or inaction you take. Sprinkle kindness, patience and compassion on every person you encounter (even if it is not reciprocated). Live with passion yet restraint and see what lies ahead.

Flip It Over

Back in the days of records (those round, ebony, circular disks with grooves that play tunes), you'd flip it over to side B for the other half. That side was usually reserved for the lesser known tracks and didn't get played as much. Hence, the speed of light invention of eight track tapes, which didn't need flipping. They did, however, take a ton of space in my 1981 Mustang center console. But I digress. The universe is sending people my way lately who, against their better judgement, believe I can help them. I'm a good listener, give advice when asked, and for the most part, have clarity of thought. In other words, I'm others' sounding board. I don't mind. At a young age peers would come to me for advice and it's been ongoing. I should have become a psychologist as my husband points out, but I didn't want to listen to other people's problems at work AND on my off time. A wise yoga teacher presented me with the concept of flipping over an unsavory situation. When I find myself with a problem, I try the flip side. What positive aspect can I take out of this? If I am going to suffer, which I truly dislike, I might as well learn something. Say you've experienced a life changing situation (divorce, unemployment) and feel like a deer in headlights. Paralyzed by the floor falling away beneath your feet. I see it as an opportunity to start over with a new life. Move to a new city (my choice is Lake Tahoe), go back to school and reinvent yourself. Flip yourself over and explore side B. **Disclaimer- No, I am not getting divorced or unemployed, although being in real estate these days is kinda close.