Maybe I'm getting old . . .

But these are the random things I was inspired to think about today (mostly from reading blogs on the interweb--so SUE me!). Discuss amongst yourselves.

The Australian Aboriginals have only one word for days: punjara. No today, tomorrow or yesterday, just punjara: another day.

I once stuck my hand into an outside trash can to shove down the trash. Looking down, I wondered who had thrown away perfectly good rope. Instead of pulling it up, I simply removed the trash on top, to find myself starring down at a positively terrified young possum. I don't like to think of what happened to him when I told my boyfriend there was a possum in his trash can. Needless to say, he got his gun.

When I was a teenager, some friends and I used to periodically park our cars on the side of a four-lane highway and hike off into the woods. About half a mile in, there was an ancient cemetery, so old many of the inscriptions had faded off the tombstones. The earliest that anyone could ever find and make out dated in the middle of the 1700's. I haven't thought about that place in years, and now I can't get it out of my head.

Wednesday is my favorite day of the week. I'm not sure why really. (I could speculate, but I would bore myself, not to mention you.) I like to think it's because of my teenage fascination with all things Faerie related. Supposedly, Wednesday was the sabbath to the Little Folk.

On the categorization scale of boring or annoying, I have to admit, I think I must be annoying. (Maybe just because I can't bear to think I am boring. Oh my prejudices.)

I have never been and am still not the slightest bit afraid of heights. My mother's own height-neurosis has gotten worse over time, to the point where she can only cross large bridges by lying in the backseat of the car with her eyes closed. And even then, she frets the entire time.  I hope I don't inherit her excessive vertigo. I find being up high exhilarating. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to skydive or anything. But I like to climb to heights. It's the closest, perhaps, that I get to feeling spiritual.

Claire needs a visit to the Bunny Planet.
Claire needs some tough love.
Claire needs money.
Claire needs booze to kiss.
Claire needs private support.
Claire needs to stay.
Claire needs to get meaner.
Claire needs prayers from all of you.
Claire needs a bigger calendar.
Claire needs.
(It was so hard not to add my own little smirky comments to these. Although the last is definitely my favorite.)

I have an uncanny knack for knowing the appropriate article for German nouns (der, die or das) even though my German vocabulary is atrocious and my studies hit a dead end in college. Sometimes I imagine entire conversations in German in my head, but then I run into a word I don't know in German and it screws the whole thing up since it becomes "kann ich bitter ein . . . um . . . slice of pizza haben?" I should speak more German with the people with whom I can. (Even now I'm worried that that "kann" should be different. Probably.) *(I checked! I was right!!!!)

I just learned that Friday the 13th may be considered unlucky because there were 13 at the Last Supper, which occurred on a Friday. Good thing I'm not religious.

Do you think that once your heart is broken once, by whatever incident inspires it, it hurts less the next time? And then the next (is less painful)? And the next (even less painful)? I do.