Wednesday, February 4, 2009




Those of us following Nancy Grace and the Tot Mom who probably (used loosely) murdered her then two-year-old daughter have heard the jailhouse tapes and endless interviews with anyone who happens through the Tot Mom's Florida neighborhood. Most remarkable has been the absolute ease with which Tot Mom tells one lie after another trying to explain herself. Lies that are easily proved wrong.


The following is paraphrased. I've admitted I watch the show. But I deny memorizing it.
One of the interviewers asked an interviewee, "Why does she keep right on with the same self-destructive behavior after she can see that it isn't working?"


The interviewee responded, "Because Casey Anthony only thinks ten minutes at a time. Just let me get myself out of this mess and I'll worry about the rest later."


I've been thinking about a simple way to introduce the THINKING GUIDANCE SYSTEM. The quickest description is that the TGS is that part of our brain able to consider WHAT HAPPENS AFTER 10 MINUTES after we choose an action. I know, I don't like it either, but just doing whatever we have to do to get rid of immediate anxiety, doesn't work out so well.


10 Minute Fixes: TOO MUCH of something that's okay in moderation--shopping, saving money, alcohol, internet surfing, food, dog scratching, sex, computer games [Solitaire should come with a warning: Kiss your life good-bye, this game is familystyle crack.], studying, partying, gardening, journaling, talking to strangers, talking, isolation, etc.


No guilt remember. Guilt is one of those 10 minute fixes.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Do feathers count when they're invisible? I'm asking because this morning, I slung a few criticism feathers which went completely unnoticed by the person I was gossiping about.
Okay, so I'm at the gym on the treadmill. Yes, I'm burping peppers from the slab of pizza I had for breakfast. I can take the irony of that. But then this limber chick in a gold lame (okay, it was red, but, hey, the top and bottom MATCHED), jogging suit hopped up on the treadmill next to me and cranked up the speed to sure-fire heart attack level. She popped her IPod into her ear and ran halfway across the state.
But I forgave her. I did not spit one feather at the gym. I stepped off the treadmill in my orthopedically altered shoes and staggered to my car. Pretend Gold Lame Lady left at the same time.
Here's where, as they say, THE FEATHERS FLEW. On my way home I turned into the Walgreens parking lot to pick up one of my many life-extending prescriptions. As I gimped to the door a black BMW shot into the handicapped parking spot RIGHT in front of the door.
As I always do, I checked to see if the car had the appropriate sticker or tag. It had neither. And here's comes the knife in the criticism pillow.
Out of the BMW sprinted the Gold Lame Lady!! I know. The feathers were STUCK ON ME.
The first lesson in becoming more in charge of the EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM is:
Do feathers count when they're invisible? I'm asking because this morning, I slung a few criticism feathers which went completely unnoticed by the person I was gossiping about.
Okay, so I'm at the gym on the treadmill. Yes, I'm burping peppers from the slab of pizza I had for breakfast. I can take the irony of that. But then this limber chick in a gold lame (okay, it was red, but, hey, the top and bottom MATCHED), jogging suit hopped up on the treadmill next to me and cranked up the speed to sure-fire heart attack level. She popped her IPod into her ear and ran halfway across the state.
But I forgave her. I did not spit one feather at the gym. I stepped off the treadmill in my orthopedically altered shoes and staggered to my car. Pretend Gold Lame Lady left at the same time.
Here's where, as they say, THE FEATHERS FLEW. On my way home I turned into the Walgreens parking lot to pick up one of my many life-extending prescriptions. As I gimped to the door a black BMW shot into the handicapped parking spot RIGHT in front of the door.
As I always do, I checked to see if the car had the appropriate sticker or tag. It had neither. And here's comes the knife in the criticism pillow.
Out of the BMW sprinted the Gold Lame Lady!! I know. The feathers were STUCK ON ME.
The first lesson in becoming more in charge of the EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE SYSTEM is:

Sunday, November 23, 2008

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