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If I had my mum's brain, I would be an emotional cripple. I'd be logicing my way through life and I wouldn't have time to feel anything.

This is the first Thanksgiving that I'm not as high as a kite, celebrating with energy drinks.

Why I loved the 1970s was that besides being my youth, it was an age of fantastic wonderment and mystery. Before the launching of the Hubble and James Webb telescopes, we could only imagine at the incredible sights of deep space. We even wondered about the possibility of life on Mars -- but that was somewhat dashed when the Viking missions landed on Mars in 1976 -- and there was no one there. I guess that took some of the mystery out of Mars for a lot of us youngsters.

In the 70s, we wondered about making those magical robots and computers seen in the old sci-fi classic movies and tv shows a part of the future. Though we don't have those types of robots roaming about our homes, we now have computers that can carry on conversations, etc. The magic of that erector set robot driven by a simple cog wheel and rubber belt powered by a couple batteries no longer seems that magical.

In the 70s when I ordered some amazing toy or game from the Sears catalog, each day of my wait for it to arrive was filled with anticipation of its arrival. Though disappointed over the often one month it took for a catalog order to arrive, the wait was filled with a period of anticipated fun. Now, things arrive so quickly that the wait is no longer a part of "looking forward" to something.

It used to be fun to wait a week for the next episode of my favorite shows. It was like a countdown for Christmas or my birthday. Now, I can find nearly every show and watch it any time I want to off of Prime or Netflix or Hulu, etc.

It used to be fun to send a letter to a friend and wait a return letter in the mail day after day. But now, we just text or email and get a response within minutes.

Wow, what an instant society we have become. Yeah, I know ... its progress. It's technology showing us the amazing things it can do. But for many of us that lived in the pre-internet and online world, the magic is gone. Now when I watch those amazing science fiction movies of the 50s and 60s, we just laugh and make fun of all the things they get wrong about space travel, etc. But for those of us that lived those "silly" movies back in the day --- wow! It was magic.

A bag that only has my phone, keys and wallet.

And none of any extras save for, say, IDs, a pen, a small sticky note, extra facemasks, medications, foldable extra bag (that is as thin and as big as my ID when folded) and feminine products.


Meaning;
No chargers = less phone battery use, no binging
No ATM/credit cards = cash only, no spending a lot unless planned the day before or so
No earbuds = it's either hearing or not hearing via earplugs on my wallet

No extra shirt/towels/etc. = only if I'm liable to get "sick" yeah, I'll just call it THAT.
No portable pentab = no fancyisms or detours unless it's intentional or planned
No date book = rely on digital means of reminding and tracking

No supplies of any kind or extra tech = only intentionally planned stuff and none of the "just in case" *insert nonmedical reasons here*

Umbrellas? Best I'd lug it with me around instead.
Water bottles/flasks/water tumblers? Ditto.

Gained Number Post Count (1).
Lose Time (n).

Lose more time here - Updates at least once a week.

What is it with people who believe we are living in a simulation always thinking they're the only "real" person? What if they're actually one of the NPCS?

It's kind of like that Bob Dylan song my brother used to play all the time, where Bob tells a doctor about how he keeps having the same dream that it's after WWIII and he's the only person left alive on Earth, and all these weird and comical things happen in the dream, and then the doctor tells him he's been having the same dreams as well, except the doctor is the only one left alive, he didn't see Bob around.

So yeah, why do we always think we're the main character of such things and never anyone else?

I wish another Aspie was online who said, "hey, I'm a huge Stephen Foster fan too and I think he is absolutely beautiful, let's talk about him together."

My first holiday without a Monster Zero with the green top went very well.

The real challenge will be to get through January without going back on coffee.

People tend to like characters that they see themselves in.

It makes more sense for me to celebrate things that happened in my own life than it does for me to celebrate things that happened in my parents generation.

A need to go the gym. I didn't go yesterday.

I'm not colouring pictures at the moment, as I've gone back into storywriting.

If a scientist makes some absurd prediction about the universe (such as how it will all end), then it's taken as riveting research. But if a psychic were to make the same prediction, they are looked at as silly worthless fakes.

I didn't have much of a supper tonight. My allergies to society are acting up

They're really pushing Remembrance Day and it's only October the 15th. Being given the choice between Remembrance Day and New Year's Day, I'll take the second one. Anti-German sentimentalism is so thick in the first 11 days of November, that you can cut it with a knife. This is coming from someone who hates January.

Some proud Anglo Canadian kid in my class told me to get lost during the Remembrance Day assembly every year until he decided it was easier to be my friend.