I’m truly amazed at what I’ve learned as a response to the pain in my right shoulder. What I’ve accomplished leads me to believe that perhaps pain is responsible for the entire evolution of man.
Okay, maybe not… but just maybe.
For all of the fifty-one years I’ve been on this earth I’ve been right-handed. Apart from holding a fork, and even then only when I have a knife in my right, I’ve never done much with it. Oh, and touch-typing of course. But even then, I can’t manage to hit the space bar with my left thumb without seriously thinking about it. Doing so slows me down considerably, so I’ll stop trying.
But now! now I’m able to do almost everything except write with it. And why? Why do I use my left hand now without even thinking about it? Because for most things, using my right is excruciating. Eating, drinking from a cup, brushing my hair, reaching for things, even wiping my butt; I’ve suddenly become ambidextrous. Pain has taught me how to do all these things at more than half a century old!
So I got to thinking about the evolution of man and how pain might have helped us get to where we are. Think about technology for instance. Imagine how many blisters we’d have and how wrinkled our skin would be if we actually had to walk and then swim to another continent! Not to mention being eaten by fish with numerous rows of teeth! And what about grocery stores. How much hunger would we have to endure if we had to wait for, say, a potato to grow. Or a cow. With the invention of aisles upon aisles of ready-grown food we don’t have to worry about that!
So I conclude that pain must be the greatest motivator in the world. Can you think of one better? I think not!
I’ve had very few friends in my life who have stuck with me. Not one to make friends easily in the first place–I make great acquaintances–there have been not many to count on to stick with me anyway.
When I was little I had a couple of friends, then in my teenage years there were three or four of us mostly, maybe six in total. Two of those six I still speak to occasionally – my best friend John who I met when we were 17 and my friend Joe. One thing that’s remained constant in my life – I don’t make friends with women very easily. I imagine I’m not “girly” enough.
As for imaginary friends, I’m not sure if I even did those right. I’ve never had “friends” I was able to talk to… no, my imaginary friends are characters I live vicariously through. Right from childhood up until now I’ve been able to sit and create worlds, populate them with interesting people with fabulous lives, and spend time there sometimes going over and over the same scenes for hours on end. I wonder if all writers of fiction do this.
Now I have John, Joe who I text to once in a while, and my neighbour with whom I have coffee once in a blue moon. (She keeps asking me to go, bless her, even though so often I’m not able.) And I have all of you, my faraway friends on the internet. It would be interesting to meet you all in person, and see if any of you “stick.”
Being Christmas time, and still having to do a fair bit of shopping, I decided to make my final two full days in Tokyo shopping days. I started out going to Shibuya – an absolutely fantastic place to go if you like crowds of people. I can’t stress enough how overwhelming it is just to cross the street there. I found this:
It’s a live camera at Shibuya crossing. (I swear I could watch this video for hours, especially when it’s crowded at lunch time. Is it just me?) On the far left side, outside the shot, is the train station. It is from that side of the street that I took this picture:
and here are two photos I took
facing the train station
at the end of the crosswalk on the far right of the youtube video screen
I went from there just a short way up the block to Tower Records
and bought a CD by, you guessed it, Buck-Tick, as well as a Christmas present for my best friend John – the new AC/DC CD with a bonus poster. He’s now likely the only person in this little town of ours to be in possession of an official AC/DC poster in Japanese.
Its funny, here in North America McDonald’s seems to me to be generally the most garish thing in any cityscape. In a place like Tokyo, the golden arches get all but lost.
Can you spy the McDonald’s?
amongst the karaoke bars and cartoon characters. But there it doesn’t seem garish. It just all awesome scenery.
From there I went to Akihabara, the area of Tokyo which is famous for anything gadget-like or to have anything to do with anime, to shop for my kids. As always, the store lights are stunning.
With so little space, a tiny shop is expanded by going up – some of the stores have seven floors of retail area. I would have liked to have gone back to Shibuya to see it all lit up, but by the time I finished having dinner with my friend Kellie (who I’ve known for about seven years through LiveJournal but never met in person before) in Shinjuku, I was too tired to make the extra stop before going back to the hotel. It had been yet another nine hour day of walking around.
It’s been a busy day, starting out with an appointment with Catherine, my occupational therapist. I was happy to go – my tendonitis/rotator cuff injury has been getting steadily more painful. It’s at the point now that I can’t properly wash the hair on the right side of my head without supporting my right arm with my left. Getting dressed and undressed is something I dread, and don’t even ask about the jungle that is my right armpit. (I swear I have a nest of gerbils under there.)
So what does all this have to do with the title of my post? It’s like this: Catherine made a few suggestions concerning the flare-up I’m having in my shoulder (and now my entire arm) that included making sure I’m sitting up as straight as possible when I’m on the computer *sits up straight*, attending some aqua fitness classes in a therapy pool, and taking a temporary leave of absence from my job. Yes, my job. My beloved walk around the block every day.
It’s not that the walking is doing me any harm except that in the snow, with the possibility of slipping and seriously hurting myself, I’m walking hunched over in the attempt to be more careful about my footing. In essence, I’m making my shoulder worse. So I called my boss at the paper and left a message on her machine this afternoon. I’m still waiting for a call back.
The more I think about it though, the more upset I am at the prospect that I may get fired over this. It’s not the monetary loss, nor is it really even the fact that I do it for the exercise. The truth is, this stupid little job actually gets me out to talk to people. It makes me a part of the community in a way nothing else does – because I’m really not a part of it. My work, my family, and my friends are all here in my home. I have one friend on the outside of these walls and that’s it. Without my paper route I’m no longer part of the work force. I have no worth as a citizen. I’m merely raising my children and, without the meagre $20 per week I make off the paper, am completely dependent on the system.
While I await the verdict from my boss I’ll contemplate what I should do. Perhaps I can make a living off my writing… oh no, wait. Catherine also told me to get off the computer. It, too, is hurting my shoulder. Speech to text? Anyone tried it?
I’ll keep you all posted and let you know what’s happening. Now I have to run. I think the gerbils are thirsty.
First up, it’s time for a happy dance! My Facebook author page hit 100 followers today! If you’re not already following me, I’d appreciate it if you’d contribute to my new goal of 200? 😀 Here’s the link: https://www.facebook.com/lindaghill.fiction?ref=hl
In other news, I decided to go ahead and make another WordPress site. I took the advice of several of my commenters on the previous post and downloaded Chrome so I can keep the two identities open at once. Finding followers is going slow, but it’s infinitely better than at Blogger, where I’ve started writing a parody of sorts. It’s enjoyable for the moment, but with no one reading it, it’s going to get boring. I’m sure I’ll eventually post it here at WP – where it won’t be boring, natch.
So, my new persona. The name came to me as sometimes names do and you just know they’re right; no rhyme nor reason for it. My profile picture is a selfie I took of the back of my neck… which was fun with my sore shoulder. Why a picture of the back of my neck? You’ll see when you get there. I’ve created a twitter account to go along with the blog, just for the hell of it. As it says on the little twitter description of me, “Beware: utters expletives without warning” – there will be more swearing over on my new blog than there is here. To give an example, I’m thinking about doing A-Z April over there with the theme, “A-Z imaginative cusses.” Because I can.
Anyhow, I plan to have fun over there. My address is https://isabellamorgan.wordpress.com/ and my twitter is @izzymorganblog. This may be the only link to the new blog here at Life in Progress (except for the edit I plan to do on my previous post), though I might advertise it once a year as an anniversary thing. There won’t be any links over there to this one. I just want to keep the two separate, but if you comment over there, don’t be afraid to call me Linda. I’m not going to advertise, but I’m not uptight about keeping the two secret from one another. It’s really just a way to keep this blog more professional while having the freedom to write whatever I want, whenever I want.
So what other news is there? Oh! A cat,
Luka
or two.
Casper
What random post would be complete without cats? These two are boarding with the troll (aka my eldest son) in my basement. They came upstairs for a visit so I thought I’d shoot a few piccies.
I think, sometimes, about the fact that when my mother passes away I will have no relatives here in Canada other than the ones I made – my three kids. When I think about it I feel alone. I realize that should my eldest son ever have children, I will have more relatives. The other two of my boys will likely never have families.
So where will be my legacy? I wonder if maybe that’s why I write… to ensure there will be something left of me, even if it’s not a blood relative. I used to think about this in regards to my father. As an only child, and a girl to boot, the only chance of my father’s name being passed down was if I kept it. But I didn’t, in regards to my children. They have their father’s surname. So at this branch of the family tree, the name Hill will end… or will it? Again, if I publish my novels perhaps it will live on, at least as a concept if not a warm body.
As the generations pass on we are all eventually forgotten in everything but name. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could be somehow remembered though? Words go a long way.
Facebook is littered with them – memes which state that if you care about something you must prove it by re-posting a picture with a bunch of often grammatically incorrect sentences or misspelled words. Things like, “If you want cancer to cured, re-post this in the next twenty seconds,” or “Share if you think animals have rights too.” Of course I want a cure for cancer to be found, and I certainly can’t stand to hear about animals being mistreated, but I never re-post these things – I don’t feel that I need to prove the way I feel to anyone.
But the one that really gets me are the “children with special needs need to be treated like anyone else” memes.
Like this one:
No. No, no, no, no, no. I won’t re-post this on Facebook. (Yes, I know it’s going to show up in my feed when I publish this blog post, but at least it’ll have an explanation with it.)
Do I want people to be aware that kids with special needs need to be treated just like everyone else? Yes. Do I want to be guilted into posting this because it shows I have “a strong heart”? No. Do I sound ungrateful right now? Maybe.
I don’t feel that I need a strong heart in order to love my two kids with special needs, and I don’t think anyone else requires a particularly strong heart to care about them. They just need to be observant and kind. Treating any human being with kindness is a simple matter of compassion and at least an attempt to understand. No one has to prove themselves as far as I’m concerned, unless actually confronted with a situation in which they can provide a smile or at least refrain from saying or doing something nasty.
I mean seriously, how far does one of these Facebook memes go? If someone is confronted with an uncomfortable situation in a public place where an Autistic adult walks up to them and begins to talk about his or her imaginary friend, does the poster of the meme remember they posted it and take it to heart? No. The last thing on someone’s mind in this situation is Facebook.
Rather than posting a meme, learn something. Take the time to think about what you’d do. Read articles written by the parents of a special needs child and take their advice. Being guilted into posting on Facebook is useless unless you know what it means.
Anyone who would like to try it out, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a ping back, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below.
As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday, if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:
A few things I learned about traveling in and around the Tokyo area by train: if you go onto google maps before you head out, you can find out how many stops it is between you and your destination, how many minutes it will take, whether or not you’ll have to transfer from one line to another, and best of all, google maps actually tells you how much it will cost, which is essential information for using the ticket machines. Also, inside the trains there are screens to tell you where the next stop will be with numbers beside the names. I assumed they were stop numbers, but I soon figured out (when they kept changing) that it was the time to the next stop. Very handy in a packed train car when one needs to plan an escape route around all the other passengers. If you visit Japan, you’ll thank me for this.
I left Kamakura with a measure of sadness. I’d grown to love the little town and having never been to Tokyo before, I didn’t have much of an idea of what to expect. I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised with the area in which I chose to stay.
Odaiba is a quiet part of Tokyo compared to the other places I eventually visited. It’s off to the east of the city and a great place to stay if you’re planning to go to Disneyland, though I didn’t get close to the place. I stayed at the Sunroute Ariake Hotel.
Under $100Cdn/night, it was very clean and there’s a Lawson (convenience store) right in the hotel, so I didn’t have to go out to get something to eat, nor did I have to eat in the restaurant, which was a little pricey to be dining in at every meal. It was also only a two minute walk from the Kokusai-tenjijou (I always find the longest named-place to have to locate) train station, and it was easy to find! so I didn’t have to lug my cases far. The reason I stayed there was the proximity of the venue in which Buck-Tick was playing – I wanted to be able to walk back to my hotel after the concert. It turned out to be a nice 15 minute stroll.
The morning after I arrived I walked over to Zepp Tokyo to see how best to get there. The one thing google maps is not always good for is guiding one in the right direction for walking. It was hard to tell from the map whether or not they were sending me on a stroll down the train tracks. As it turned out, the fastest way there was a humongous foot bridge.
No cars – bonus
When I arrived there the crews were working on emptying trucks of equipment.
The trucks were at the back, which is where the street is
I was surprised to see dozens of girls wandering around pulling small suitcases. With not a hotel in sight I wondered what they could have been doing. I found out later.
I went for breakfast and decided to head in the direction of Diver City Mall. Then I saw this guy.
Here’s a rare selfie of me beside his foot. He’s pretty tall.
I wasn’t really sad – the sun was in my eyes
I walked around the mall for an hour or two – there was a band appearing live outside for a small concert and meet-and-greet and thousands of rabid fangirls screaming their heads off to wade through when I came out. But I was heading out to meet Susie, the lovely lady whose Etsy shop is NOW OPEN! (click here) and who was kind enough to buy my concert ticket.
While we had a quick chat, I found out what the deal was with all the young ladies and their suitcases. Not a bag was left to be found but instead, hundreds of heavily made up costumed cosplayers, just there to get together and walk around. The area, being Palette Town which is apparently famous, has apart from Zepp Tokyo this,
Giant Wheel
and this,
Mega Web – lotsa cars
as two of its main attractions.
By the time Susie and I said goodbye I was good and tired, so I headed back to the hotel. The next day was dedicated to getting ready for the concert.
Attachments can come in many forms. We can become attached to things; keepsakes, favourite things, things that we watch and enjoy listening to, there are too many things to mention. But I think the most unhealthy and possibly dangerous things we can become attached to are ideas.
When I sat down to write this I had to write this: http://lindaghillfiction.com/2015/02/14/fandom-form-letter-tongue-in-cheek/ first. I’m not sure if somewhere between the popularity of the tabloid and the mainstream inundation we have of celebrity news there has become an increase in the obsession people have for their favourite stars; I worry about the state of many people’s ideas of who these celebrities actually are, particularly young girls.
From the time of Puppy Love I’ve known what it is to “fall in love” with a singer. I’ve since recognized that it wasn’t actually love but infatuation. At the time I would pounce on anything Donny Osmond and soak it up. I’d stay home instead of going out with my friends in order to catch a single glimpse on TV. So what has changed?
The internet, for one. Being so much easier for people to find things–pictures, videos, interviews–of their favourite stars – is it feeding the obsession even more? The constant need for these stars to keep themselves in the limelight and give up more of their personal lives can’t be helping. And there breeds the dangerous, obsessive, possessive ideas in young girls’ (and even adults) minds that simply won’t go away. “He’s meant to be mine.” “We have a special connection.” It can seriously interfere with the healthy growth of a person. I know people who refuse real life relationships because they are waiting for their star to meet them and sweep them off their feet. And the pure inundation of media feeds it.
It’s not an isolated phenomenon. It’s widespread. It’s growing. And I wonder if there’s anything we can do about it. Somehow I doubt it.
I have to wonder too how the stars themselves cope with it. Fandom is nice, but the obsessive letters they must get have to be disconcerting. The paparazzi have proven dangerous and intrusive. It’s a wonder to me that anyone would want to be famous. But then I suppose they have their own attachments.
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