A Big Myth-understanding (Blog #579)

Ick. It’s 11:30, and I’m so frustrated I could spit. Earlier tonight I met my friend Justin to check the status of my laptop. (I spilled hot tea on it a few days ago, and we put it in rice to dry out.) Well, it’s a long story, but basically the keyboard works–with one small exception. It “thinks” one of the shift keys is permanently depressed. (I think I might be thanks to this situation.) THAT MEANS IT STARTS IN SAFE MODE (WHICH IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU REBOOT A MAC AND HOLD DOWN THE SHIFT KEY, MOM), SO IT HAS LIMITED FUNCTION, AND IT ALSO TYPES IN ALL CAPS, WHICH IS–OBVIOUSLY–ANNOYING AS SHIT.

After over an hour of resetting this and reprogramming that, Justin got the laptop to type in regular lowercase–SOMETIMES–but it still starts in safe mode, and one of the shift keys doesn’t work. So I called Apple, and now I have an appointment tomorrow to have a technician check it out. Most likely, I’ll need a new keyboard.

As Justin said, could be better, could be worse.

Believe it or not, none of this really upset me. I actually took it all in stride. Shit happens. It’s not the end of the world. But when I came home and tried to backup some files and log myself out of my online accounts–and couldn’t–I nearly flew off the handle. Why the hell does everything have to be so complicated?! What did I do to deserve this?

Finally, I walked away, reasoning, Just leave everything alone, Marcus. Trust the professionals. You don’t have to control every little thing.

So now I’m in bed, blogging on my phone, trying to chill out. Really, it’s been a good day. This afternoon I made progress on my photo organizing project. Check out one of my all-time favorite pictures, from summer camp (2000) with my friend Matt.

Later I went by myself to see a movie, Small Foot, an animated film about a group of Big Feet who don’t believe in humans until one of them discovers one of us. It’s super cute; totally adorable. The tagline for the movie is “There’s been a big myth-understanding.”

For no planned reason, the two photos I just posted feature one person carrying another. Hum. Maybe there’s a lesson there, in the repetition. I’ve spent so much of life afraid something will go wrong. So much of life mistrusting others and even life itself, that I imagined only I could do things “right.” This has been my personal myth, and it’s why little things like a broken laptop set me off. They force me to let go, to surrender, to accept help. This is a good thing but not an easy thing to do, to admit there’s been a big myth-understanding, that the world ISN’T a big, scary place, and one person DOESN’T have to carry its weight on his shoulders, that it’s OKAY to accept help.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When we expect great things, we see great things.

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Any Pants Are Dancing Pants (Blog #576)

This afternoon I met my friend Kim and her dog Bonnie to walk around downtown Fort Smith and check out The Unexpected, the mural-painting project I mentioned a few days ago. Oh my gosh, y’all–it’s so much better in the daytime! Here’s a picture of the mural done by local high school students. Personally, I think it’s super-cool, and I love the subtle message about transformation (caterpillar to butterfly). That being said, I really think that second caterpillar (the same one pictured above with me and Bonnie) should have two eyes instead of one. Or–as Kim said–at least a mouth. But hell, what do I know? Maybe THAT’S the intended message–even one-eyed caterpillars can become beautiful butterflies. (Don’t let anyone keep you from achieving your dream, you little cyclops!)

Here’s one of the murals on Towson Avenue I mentioned the other day. It wasn’t finished then, but now it is. I LOVE IT, and it’s apparently already become a popular spot to have photos taken, as Kim and I saw a couple posing for their engagement photos this afternoon. Eeek–way to go, Fort Smith.

Here’s another one on Towson Avenue, painted by Fort Smith’s own BUFFALO. I assume that’s him in the picture. (And yes, I realize it should be “I assume that’s HE in the picture, just as it should be MY THERAPIST AND I, but–let’s face it–that’d be “extremely” pretentious, and I’m only “very” pretentious.)

Here’s a picture of a sign I found on the inside of a traveling art bus (an old school bus that’s been transformed into a space where kids to make arts and crafts.) The sign says, “Imagination is intelligence with its dancing pants on.” How fun is that?

On a related note, here’s a little-known fact from a dance instructor–any pants are dancing pants if you dance in them.

This evening I met my friends and old roommates Justin and Ashley for dinner with the express intention of going to their house and using their laptop and internet afterwards. (I’ll explain why in a moment.) But before we went to their house, we drove by the new murals so they could see them too and accidentally discovered another one just off Garrison Avenue on 9th Street, a mural that’s not listed on this year’s map. Here’s a picture of it. When I posted this same picture on Facebook, a friend said it was “a bonus mural” and was also done by PREF. (It says, “Side By Side,” Mom.)

Back at Justin and Ashley’s, I sat down to their laptop in order to systematically and one-by-one change every online password I have, which I’m guessing is about fifty. A few weeks ago I discovered a key-logging virus on my computer, and although I haven’t experienced any compromised accounts, I figured this was the best thing to do–get all new passwords. But Justin, who works in IT, said I should change the passwords from HIS laptop and NOT mine–just to be safe. So that’s what I did. Or at least started to do. Halfway through this not-difficult-but-tedious process, I spilled a cup of hot tea all over my pants and–unfortunately–my laptop keyboard. (I had MY laptop out because it has a list of all my online accounts on it.) Shit, shit, shit, I thought, as Ashley immediately grabbed a couple towels and helped me start cleaning up the mess.

Almost instantly, I started having trouble with my keyboard. I’d hit one letter, and another letter would come up on the screen. Then the keyboard stopped working altogether. At this point, I began to seriously freak out–after all, I use my laptop to blog every day, and that’s sort of a big deal for me. (Like, HUGE.) But Justin–who’s ever level-headed and logical–said we simply needed to go to Walmart, buy a large, sealable storage bag and a bunch of rice, then put the laptop in the bag with the rice (and seal it), and the rice should pull the moisture out of the keyboard and–hopefully–restore it to vibrant health. So that’s what we did. Justin said I should leave the laptop in the rice bag for a day or two “and then see what happens.” So now I’m blogging on Justin’s laptop. Thankfully I remembered my blog’s password! (It was one of the ones I HADN’T changed yet.)

Who knew they made 2.5-gallon-sized storage bags?

Ick. I’m really not thrilled about this whole situation. Part of me is rather upset with myself for being so careless and knocking over that cup of tea. That being said–fuck–I’m only human, and humans spill things. Hell, it’s so easy to do here on planet earth, where gravity is like, nonstop. (If gravity doesn’t get your tea cup, it WILL get your thighs. Just you wait.) And really, what good would self-flagellating do? Justin said he took his phone for a serious swim once when he was fishing. I put mine in the washing machine several years ago. THESE THINGS HAPPEN. This thing happened. All I can do is move forward. Justin said even if the rice doesn’t do the trick, I can take my laptop in to be repaired. “It could be a simple fix,” he said, “or it could be the mother board–that would suck–but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Nothing’s the end of the world.”

Then he added, “Except for the end of the world, of course.”

Everyone’s a comedian.

So we’ll see what happens. I’m hoping for the best, but prepared for the worst. All my files are backed up online, and even if they weren’t, I’ve lost all my files before. My main concern is the blog, and I can always blog (and blog lite) from my phone if I have to. Unless, of course, I spill something on that too. Anyway, it occurs to me that nothing horrible has happened tonight. I’ve been here all along with my friends, safe in their home. When Justin I went to Walmart, we had a delightful time. We laughed. We made memories. My point is that I don’t have to be worried sick about all this if I don’t want to be. Shit happens, but my attitude is mine to control. I can choose to focus on the good.

Even when my pants are sopping wet, I can still dance in them.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There’s no such thing as a small action. There’s no such thing as small progress.

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