I’m so done with being helpful.Not really. I always like being helpful.But it wasn’t easy generating five posts in a row that were kinda/sorta “helpful” and tip-driven in content–and I don’t even know if they count as helpful! They sure weren’t Martha Stewart-helpful or Good Housekeeping-tip-filled. They were odd; I realized my limitations.Before long, I was running low on ideas. In fact, I was about ready to compose one on various methods for reviving a dead fish–I kid you not–when I realized I’d pretty much tapped out my helpfulness. At least for now.One curious shift that happened during this five-post experiment was to sense how my mind started processing information and ideas. Suddenly I found myself attempting to collect, compare, contrast, and categorize all input in search of any connection at all–my mind was working hard to pull things together.Also, I almost felt as if I were beginning to think in a linear fashion. Could I have become slightly–and this is unfathomable to me–sequential?I started dreaming in bullet points.I’m joking.Here’s what I really think about bullet points in particular:
- I worry that bullet points are reductionist writing and reflect the sound bite culture we’re living in. I’m not sure I like contributing to that.
- But they do break down blocks of text into easily managed ideas, visually organizing material quite nicely. They almost beckon a person to jump to the bullet points and read on.
- I was exaggerating about dreaming in bullet points. That was an attempt at hyperbole.
- I did remember a recent dream–it was actually a nightmare: I left The Boy home alone playing with a friend and remembered only after I had been gone for an hour. When I realized what happened, I drove like a wild woman across front and back yards–the shortest route home–threw the back door open, called out his name, and he called back in a happy tone. He and his friend were playing in the basement. They didn’t even know I’d been gone. But there wasn’t a single bullet point in that dream. Only a feeling of panic. I think I called out his name in my sleep.
Can you tell I’m ready to return to stories and random observations? It’s time for this blogger to return to the normal Kroeker chaos.But before I shift back to my random and chaotic approach to blogging, I’m going to include a transition post full of bullet-points. I was just warming up with that first set.To accommodate this unusually sequential mode of thinking and transition to randomness, I’ve been tagged for the perfect bullet-point-friendly meme by both Andrea at Flourishing Mother and L.L. Barkat at Green Inventions Central.Six (no, twelve!) Random Things about Me(If I’ve been tagged twice, don’t I have to offer twelve? Never fear–I can do that.)
- I always seem to need one more layer of clothing than anybody else–and even then I still feel cold. Because of this, I’m not really all that fond of fall, winter or spring–until it gets consistently above 70 degrees, I’m hit with chills and left shivering as I track down another sweater or scarf.
- Thus, summer is my favorite season.::pause::Excuse me, I just realized my feet are cold. Had to get some socks.
- Uneven front teeth. But you already knew that.
- Love Nutella. But you already knew that, too.
- I seem to ask people what they think more often than I ask how they feel. What would Myers-Briggs fanatics do with that?
- What? you Myers-Briggs fanatics exclaim. You don’t know your Myers-Briggs profile? Nope. It always amazes me that people can rattle off, “I’m ISTP” or, “Oh, my husband is an ENTJ.” I have no idea what I am. In fact, I’m so clueless about it, I had to cheat and go to a website to find out the letter possibilities just now.
- I could eat boxes and boxes of chocolate-covered raspberry sticks from Trader Joe’s without ever getting sick of them.
- The first diaper I ever changed was my own daughter’s.
- I won a typing contest in high school.
- I didn’t speak one word of French before I met The Belgian Wonder. I might have known “oui,” but nothing more. I’m barely conversational even now, after 17 years of marriage and several trips to visit his family. I’m happy to report, however, that I can say more than “oui.” I can now say “merci beaucoups” and “au revoir.” Oh, and “je t’aime.” Three very important phrases.
- I used to play the clarinet fairly well. When I pick one up today, I can still play a few lines from the solo I performed when I was a senior in high school. It’s in there.
- Remember how I wrote about Mother’s Day, and how anything that happened would be good? It was. It was very good. My kids and The Belgian Wonder scurried around the kitchen preparing the meal, my parents came over, my brother and his family came over, and I even got several sweet homemade presents. One was a hand-stitched cat made from a pattern that one of the girls found online. Another was a hand-tied, double-weight fleece blanket (see Random Thing #1 for why they would have come up with this warm gift idea), and this collection of paper bits:
Given with love by the same hands that offered me a handful of helicopters from the maple tree out back two years ago.There you have it. Twelve random things, neatly and irresistibly presented in bullet point format.Thus ends the tip-intensive lineup here at Kroeker Central. I do hope you will appreciate the shift back to the unexpected.