It is as different as apples and oranges. I don’t like that phrase. I mean, it’s descriptive enough but why
apples and oranges? Because they are
both round but of different tastes, smells and textures? Oh, wait, that makes sense now. But still, there are other things you can say
instead of apples and oranges just to be more creative. What about blueberries and raspberries? Naw, too long. It doesn’t flow. Hmmm…mango and papaya? You can’t really use pineapple for any of
this…or banana for that matter. I mean
that would just sound dirty. Hmmm…lemons
and limes might work…coconuts and kiwis?
They are both round and fuzzy.
How about choosing something that isn’t fruit. Grass
and astro-turf? Men and women? Vodka and scotch? Both alcohol, but two different colors and two
different tastes. I think that
works. I would say vodka and whiskey but the smell of
Jack Daniel’s makes me want to hurl. I think I will go with vodka and scotch. Mix things up a bit. I have also changed “six
of one, half dozen of the other” to “half of one, one half of the other” just
to watch people try to figure it, or rather me, out. It’s fun to see that “I think you meant
something else” look in their eyes but they are too polite and don’t want to
offend anyone so they say nothing. I
have also changed “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it” to “we’ll jump
off that bridge when we get to it”. That
one just makes more sense to me.
The one thing I haven’t changed is saying “duck, duck, grey
duck” instead of saying, “duck, duck, goose”. If you are from Minnesota, you will be one of
the only people in the whole wide world to say “duck, duck, grey duck” instead
of saying, “duck, duck, goose”. I have
no idea why. I once asked a farmer if it
had to do with geese being grey when they were chicks but he said that no
farmer was so stupid as to not see the difference between a baby duck and a
baby goose. The Urban Dictionary (and if
it says it there you know it’s true) says a Grey Duck is slang for someone from
Minnesota. Like, it’s an insult or
something. I guess it could be worse. You could be called a cheese-head or a Hoosier. Yikes.
Anyway, so I was on the treadmill after work tonight and was
contemplating my life as I usually do while on said machine.
It’s either contemplate my life or fantasize about winning the
lottery. Depends on the day. And the music playing in my head. Sometimes I like to ask a question to myself
and have it answered by hitting shuffle on my IPod. See what comes up, listen to the lyrics and
read into them as some sort of a sign.
So,
tonight, while contemplating my life, I asked myself why I haven’t written my
blog in awhile. I already knew the
answer to that question. Lately when I
try to write, it feels as if there are a few people standing behind me, judging
what I write and it makes it arduous to write how I feel about anything. I begin to write and hit delete. Begin to write and hit delete. I missed writing. I missed hearing people sending wonderful
comments to me about my blog. I missed
checking the stats to see that people in France and Moldavia and The Bahamas were still reading my stuff.
I started thinking about why writing now is so
much more painstaking than before. I
love writing and it soothes my savage soul.
Or my restless and impatient soul.
Or my anxiety-ridden-question-asking-soul. Sometimes I don’t care who reads it, it just feels
good to write it. But lately, those
people standing behind me in my imagination have become a big hindrance. I told myself to listen to the music and maybe
I would create a blog while getting my heart rate up to 155. I hit shuffle on my IPod and the song Turning Tables by Adele came on. Not the most heart pumping thing to exercise
to, but I began to listen to the lyrics as to answer my own questions. “As hard as you try, no, I will never be
knocked down” and “Under your thumb, I can’t breathe” rattled through my head. The lyric “Next time I’ll be braver, I’ll be
my own savior” gave me my answer and I started thinking of how my attitude had
shifted. It was different now. I was different now; from how I once
was. As different as apples and
oranges. Or rather vodka and scotch.
A positive imagination can’t hurt you, I know that. However, negative fantasizing (ya know, when you
imagine a conversation in your head, something that hasn't happened yet and you imagine it at its worst and then it snowballs into a full blown
fight in your head or the worst possible scenario and you decide it would just be easier to lie on your couch
and hide under the covers instead of moving forward) can hurt you. But we all do it. Just need to do it less. Use your imagination for good instead of evil. Of course some evil thoughts can be good too. Hehehe.
Maybe that’s why Minnesotans use grey duck instead of goose
in the game. You got to play by tapping
on little heads and calling them purple duck and polka dot duck and rhinestone
duck. You got to use your imagination
and not just keep saying “goose, goose, goose”.
Hmmm…not a bad way to kick start the imagination at a young age. I should play that with my kids. Of course, then there would be Transformer duck and Pokemon duck and Lego duck...
By the way, the next song on my IPod was I’m Sexy and I know it by LMFAO.
Yep, that one worked too.
