Rene Descartes Was a Drunken Fart

The Boredom of Recovering from Surgery is sucking away my will to live.
Or write. Or change the channel

This was pointed out by a writer friend whose blog I regularly investigate. Reading and writing go hand in hand for me. Or rather pen in hand, or keyboard in hand. Just give me a hand. Ah crap. Evidently I’m afflicted with Cabin Fever.
There’s a reason this was the name of my former retail store. Lookee, here’s my Logo. It must be true!

Cabin Fever Games was the retail website. Lots of time spent designing graphics and building that baby

Watching hours of television may be the direct cause of my writer’s block the last few days.

Sure, I’ve been watching DVDs from Netflix (worth every penny whether you’re under house arrest or have had major abdominal surgery) but this still implies a passive existence.
Conversely, reading stimulates the brain.
A book may be so poorly written that I throw it with a satisfying whack against a wall. Conversely a tome may exalt me or give the impetus to write a piece dealing with the same subject. Taking a tertiary point from a great writer’s pages and running with it is a favorite past time. It’s the little and seemingly insignificant ideas that permeate my being and send it off on thoughts and ideas of it’s own.
Either way it’s exercise, whether of the brain or throwing arm. Unfortunately even when healthy I throw a book like a girl. Some day I’ll throw a book like a woman.

On Monday the pain from the hysterectomy became worse and I developed another frightening symptom as well. This scared me. In fact it scared me so much that I actually DID stay in bed and follow the doc’s instructions for 3 days.
Hence the seepage of cognizant thought from my frontal lobe and the apparent successful coup undertaken by the limbic portion of my brain.

Limbo in the Loo!

Y Mon, everybody Limbic!

So it’s Day Four since the above mentioned day and a half of Scary Effects That I Probably Brought On Myself.
Felt much better by last night, the pain is back to manageable and nothing else is amiss.
So today’s To-Do list includes arming myself with fresh reading material.

My favorite books are non-fiction, especially biographies of obscure historical figures and those dealing with science and physics. Granted the latter have to written on a level of my understanding, but there are more and more fabulous books every year. No longer shackled to unreadable dissertations on quantum theory or Scientific American articles my interest in these subjects has grown.

Here are a few recommendations for all of you shut-ins.

There’s a brilliant blog that I read regularly: Bad Science. The writer has a scientific background (Oxford educated M.D.) and a sense of skepticism and irony that makes me laugh out loud.

I’ve plowed through 4 great books on things physic since my surgery and for your own edification here they are:
1. Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain
–wonderful book by Antonio Damasio. The author kicks Descartes’ ass in regards to the theory that the logical mind is separate from the emotional. This is great for anyone silly enough to have obtained a degree in Philosophy (or Music) or cunning enough to have a degree in the sciences.

2. Einstein’s Universe: The Layperson’s Guide
–by Nigel Calder. Simple to understand and a pretty short read. This is great for reiterating the foundations of physics AND the amazing work of Albert “The Chick Magnet” Einstein. Found this one used for under a dollar. Check the local thrift stores for this. I’d have paid full price for it.

3. First You Build a Cloud: And Other Reflections on Physics as a Way of Life
— The author of this book, K.C. Cole, writes in a style that is as accessible as that of Brian Greene. Thank god. Great bios in here of famous physicists. Straightforward examples of every day occurrences and situations which she correlates with specific theories and disciplines. Tres Cool.

4. The Universe in a Nutshell
—by Stephen Hawking. What can I say? Stephen Hawking helped rekindle my enjoyment of science, which had lain dormant since microbiology in my junior year of college. The graphics are great. Not only are you able to ‘hang with Hawking’ but you’re learning and contemplating some of the newer theories in science. Did I mention how I loved the illustrations? You know, I only read Playboy for the articles too. Okay sure, the pictures are a bonus.

After devouring these books my brain was full and for some idiotic reason it whispered ‘You are cured. Ignore suggestions for abdominal surgery aftercare. Go forth.’ Cured. Amen Brothers and Sisters!
At this juncture I began doing everything which was contraindicated for a neurotic woman recovering from a serious operation. I BROKE THE LAW! If only it were the law of gravity I could stop playing hackysak with my boobs.
Shredding the doctor’s orders I emerged from the sepulcher. A trip to the market (no, I didn’t drive) and walking too far among the aisles. Followed by lifting more than 5 pounds. Bending over, albeit slowly and not all of the way, to pick up everything my daughter drops in her daily oblivion to housework. I’m thinking that her algebra book alone probably weighs 7 pounds.
Conclusion: I broke the law and the law won. Stupid song. D’oh.

Strangely enough my body rebelled and the last four days were a living semi-coma (akin to a semi-colon and initiated with the same frequency) of passive Television/DVD/Blank Wall observation and Oxycodone.
On day five of my crime against nature spree I summoned my best indentured farmer voice: I got bett-ah.

To paraphrase Descartes:
(okay can’t help myself singing at this point “Rene Descartes was a drunken fart who was rarely ever stable, Eidecker Eidecker was a boozy beggar who could drink you under the table….” Go find the Philosopher’s Song by Monty Python and then you can sing along with me next time.

I write. Therefore I am.
and I’m always write

~Miss R


Miss R at work

This is my desk at work. Those are my feet. Arbeit macht frei motherf**kers!




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