Thursday, June 25, 2009

My brain writ large

Jaywalker at Belgian Waffle asked her readers to diagram their brains and post the results. The first time she did this she also posted her man's brain, which was decidedly different from hers. I thought you'd enjoy a peek into my marriage if I included my brain and my husband's brain. I feel in the interest of full disclosure I must tell you that Lord Honey does not know I am sharing the contents of his brain with you. Like most people who listen to talk radio, he thinks this stuff should be a secret, in case some one might be listening. Don't disabuse of him of this notion.

Now, you notice I couldn't fit all my thoughts on my drawing. This is because I am so busy. Well, really it is because my head is busy, but not necessarily in a good way. If I were more skilled technologically, you would see how the certain sections of the brain light up with color. Those sections are more active. The cheese sections for example, or the one for bread and butter (which includes cake, obviously).

This is the key for my diagram, including all the words that don't fit in little spaces (just like in my head, where the words tumble around alot)

1. This section is devoted things I want to do, mostly things I want to do at the same time as something else. This is how it goes in my head: What can I do while I do that? Need to pump some breast milk, OK, while I do that I will also blog and make a phone call using my headset so my hands are free to type, while I wear the handsfree breast pump. Here I am in court, lawyering, while I worry about my daughter's health issues. I think I'll have a smoke while I plan my next fifteen minutes of activity but I have to hide from my daughters and people who might judge me for being weak and smoking in the face of stress. Surely no one can see me behind my house, anyway I am gardening, not smoking. That is Lord Honey's smoke, not mine. I am blaming him. What else can I do while I cast aspersions on my man? Surely there must be an activity compatible with aspersion casting, maybe something I could do with one hand?

2. The laughing section. For example: How did Michael Jackson die? The glove choked him. HAR-HAR. Completely inappropriate. How did I get here? Letting the days go by? Ahh, nostalgic laughing. Mellow and pleasant. Hey, I have a baby! She is lovely! Thinking of even her name makes me smile. Now I am laughing at me smiling to myself. Oops, now I am crying because I love her so much. Arrrggghhh, wrong wave pattern. Go to a different section.

3. The crying section. This brain wave pattern exists simultaneously with the other sections, and involves visceral responses to pretty much any permutation of life situations of myself and those around me, including the funny, the poignant, the joyful, the gutwrenching, the grateful, and the anger based reactions. Damn, I am tired.

3A. Feelings of inadequacy. Just look at my belly, I am awfully rotund. Is my hair cute enough? People like curly hair, right? Right? Is my gray showing? I should update my wardrobe. People like short girls, right? My arms are too short, way. Don't call me short, I can reach the ground thank you very much. Yes, I am smart but am I too unappealing? Does Lord Honey grab my butt to make me feel appealing even if I am not? Oh, men just do that anyway? Oh. Ugh. I am yucky. Do people find me maniacal? Would I know if they did? Should I stop talking now?

3B. Look at my kids, aren't they wonderful? Look at them!! They are so beautiful, did I make those people?!? Really? Hey, I am damn cool if I can make such babies. Oh, listen to that intelligent squealing from the baby, and observe how Claire observes her world, and rocks it. They smile and laugh, and so do I. Wow, I rock!

4. Cheese. Comfort food. Playing on the internet to the exclusion of all other hobbies and interests. Cheese. Is anyone going to Starbucks?

5. Holy fuck, did I forget to worry about something? What is that nagging in the back of my mind? There must be something else I can think about here, what might it be? It's just on the tip of my tongue. Oh dear, everything, especially stuff that is years away, years!! Or completely out of my hands. Or random. Perhaps I'll take that out and chew on it anyway. I wonder if I knitted more if I would be calmer. Didn't I used to read a lot? Was I once somewhat more centered?

Grab a Sharpie and make a brain, and link back if you do. I bet you are no nuttier than the rest of us.

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