Do you remember when browsers didn't have "tabs"?

I do! Back in the day, the “tab” function hadn’t yet been invented and we had to open new windows. Now, with this tab function added to browsers, we can have a number of browser windows open all at once. How long have the browsers had the tab function? Ten years? More?

Are you prone to opening tabs and then, opening more and more and then, having maybe 35 open and then realizing you’ve got tab spaghetti up there? Too many tabs spoil the broth! Some from yesterday, some from a Google search you would never want anyone knowing you looked for, some from your last peek at your ailing bank account (if it’s still there). Uh oh.

Then, to be even more annoying,  one tab, god know which of those 35, starts up a video at full volume when you’re in a library.  So now you gotta hunt for culprit tab. Or pull the plug. Computer euthanasia is not a crime against humanity. Or is it?

God bless those ad blockers, but now, half the sites ask us to turn them off!

I end up x-ing out the entire browser. Please close. Now. All of you. Then, as soon as I open up it asks me if I want to “restore” all 35 tabs. That’s a courtesy to us users in case we xed out our browsers by accident.

No, this wasn’t involuntary manslaughter. This was premeditated,

If I’m ever taken to court for killing my entire browser and all 35 tabs I know better than to use the insanity plea. I don’t want to be stuck in upgrade hell restart again and again prison forever and ever.  I know I killed my tabs, Your Honor. I’m aware of the difference between a tab and a browser window. Will I be tried incognito for this? How about a proxy or something? Just be nice.

Clarification: Sensory processing differences is not a symptom of anxiety or a sign of a mental disease

Sensory processing is a neuro thing that happens entirely independently of “anxiety.” It is generally apparent by age three, often before. It isn’t always a problem for a person due to compensation. Just like any other characteristic we have.

….such as, for instance….My height. It isn’t a problem being short. Mostly. But sometimes, it is. Like when I have to reach up to get something and I can’t.. Then, it’s temporarily a nuisance because I might have to ask for assistance or get a ladder. Or jump up and hope I can grab what I need.

On the other hand, I can hide in tiny spaces. Tall people do not fit.

SPD is a nuisance sometimes. Often not. Don’t blast the TV and I’ll be thrilled. This isn’t a mental disorder. Think: ringing in the ears. That’s somewhat of a sensory processing thing. It happens between the inner ear nerve and the brain and still they don’t really know. You can’t turn it on or off. SPD is like that. I’m sure glad they don’t have a pill for it, and I hope they never do.

I'm not angry. Instead, I'm laughing.

I’m not at all angry about the SPD (Sensory Processing Differences) misdiagnosis for all those years. I am laughing my butt off instead!

Now, I can literally walk up to those “experts” and tell them off!

I was seen by some very famous people who completely misdiagnosed me with their pet diagnoses. Oh, they were so, so certain that I had severe cases of whatever they thought would benefit their pocketbooks…..And told me so.

I was seen by some of these “experts” many years ago in their junior years. Some in their mid-years. Many have now risen to esteem and fame. I am sure they are living in mansions now, if they weren’t already, thanks to taxpayers, drug companies, institutions, and those in the unknowing public who fell prey to such diagnosis nonsense.

“Hey, dude, you were wrong.”

Does anyone know of any well-written blogs by people who have this? Most are riddled with spelling errors and too many colloquialisms.  You’d think an editor would tap these bloggers on the shoulder and say, “Hey, there’s a difference between “effect” and “affect.” I don’t mind informal language at all. I do mind totally incorrect grammar. An occasional typo might slip by even the most careful editor, but all-out sloppiness is annoying, at least to me.

Perhaps there aren’t too many of us.

Hey media, come find me.

SPD is not in the DSM, by the way, because psychiatry doesn’t profit from it. Just wait till they find a shiny pill for it and then it’ll be a whole new ball game. The umbrella will widen (just like ED’s umbrella) there will be scare tactics galore, early intervention and screening, expensive treatment centers, parity demands, and people talking baloney about stigma.

“Don’t blame me, I’m inferior and incapable!”

I don’t take that stance, which is why I don’t see Sensory Processing Differences as anything to recover from and when I go to these forums and read about people yapping about “how I recovered” somehow that makes no sense to me.

This is what I am figuring out: After nearly six decades of being wired the way I am, do I really want to re-wire to be like everyone else?

A long time ago, my parents bought a brand new station wagon. I believe this was a Ford. I recall the color. Diamond Blue. This was the color’s name. My mom was tickled by the name of that color, so she repeated it many times. It was a nearly white car, but not quite. Undoubtedly the car had a name my mom gave it, but I don’t recall its name.

It didn’t take long before Mom noticed that one white door, a back door, was not Diamond Blue, but a different shade of white. Maybe it was Puzzle-colored. Color de crema. After that, a family friend or someone, I don’t actually recall who it was, told my dad that the car’s engine was not the original engine. Both the car’s engine and one door had been replaced. The family friend told us that most likely what had been sold to us as “new” was certainly not new, but had been reconstructed following an accident and sold to us deceptively as new.

A LEMON!!!!

Please, someone call Ralph Nader. Oh dear, Ma Bell, reach out and touch Consumer Protection because Mom and Dad fell prey to a ripoff.

We were not alone, of course. This had happened to many. And it wasn’t the end of the world. I recall discussing the situation with Mom. We liked the car this way. Lopsided. Different. Unique. I know the dealer might have offered to repaint the door, but to my recollection we never took the guy up on the offer.

We liked our oddball Diamond-not-so-blue car just the way it was. I had read that these “split” cars can ultimately be a safety concern, but back in those days no one worried about such things.

Until we traded it in, Diamond-not-so-Blue served us fine. It was still a car. It still ran. And now it gives me plenty of material for amusing stories for the next generation and all of you.

People who live in glass houses…..

Doctor: Tell me, Julie, what does this saying mean? “People who live in glass houses should not throw stones.”

Me: Doc, that doesn’t matter. If I lived in a glass house I could throw all the stones I wanted. Even if I aimed, I’d surely miss the glass wall!

I think those docs struck out, don’t you?

That time of year again, you guys……

That time of year of National Novel Writing Month.

That time of year when the nutsos stuff themselves with turkey then later make themselves “resolutions” to diet it off.

Best of all, Puzzle’s birthday on the 26th of Noviembre!!!!! I’m going to try to take before/after photos of her. She got gunk on her mouth now and looks like a fool.

Guess what? She is going to be TEN years old!!!! Hmm…she doesn’t act elderly. But I have told her that if she starts watching Wheel of Fortune I’m kicking her out.

Do you have trouble copying and pasting off of ANYTHING in the Chrome browser?

The Google Chrome Help forums are making this tougher than it really is. If you use Chrome, and you suddenly find you cannot copy and paste off of it, that is, you can’t copy anything out of the body of a page, an email, a PIN number, or anything you highlight, then…..

IT DOESN’T TAKE ROCKET SCIENCE…..

Guys, stop getting mad at Google and please don’t be rude on their forums. I had the problem, too.  No worries, it’s just a glitch.  This is how I found it can be quickly solved. The Default Method for Solving Everything:

Restart Your Computer.

Yes, that’s all you have to do. Now, open Chrome and try again.

Another thing you might try is restarting Chrome, but usually I have to restart the machine altogether.

While you are at it, please, all you non-techies out there….

Computers are not perfect. The reason is that 1. the hardware isn’t made to last forever. 2. The hardware and software and online interfaces you are using are designed and manufactured by humans. 3 Your servers are run by people. 4. Technology changes. Humans update, upgrade, and when they feel like it, ditch what doesn’t work well. Or just go home and call it a day.

“I’ve been working on the railroad……” Wow, I loved it when my dad used to sing that one to me, even though he couldn’t carry a tune.

No, I don't want treatment for Sensory Processing Differences. This is me.

Hello, I see no reason, at 58, to have “treatment” for Sensory Processing “Disorder.” Please, tell me why I need one more “treatment” for a human difference? I like myself the way I am. I am just fine. I adapt. If you do not like breaking glass objects due to clumsiness, you have a choice. You can go through “treatment” so that you do not break glass objects. Or please, don’t get a job as a glass museum curator. Or, ahem, live in a glass house.

By the way, are there any glass houses out there that are affordable in my income bracket? I am hardly likely to EVER live in a glass house, you guys!!!! Go give the shrinks the boot!!!

All relationships are adaptation. You adapt to me. I adapt to you. In the world, we live in the world by adapting. We adapt to the world. When each of us is born, the world makes room for one more kid. It bends and adapts.

 

Maybe it’s time we consider quiet and silence. Maybe we need to examine the amount of sound we have in our lives. Sound is so important, as is the absence of sound. What do you hear in your daily life? Do you hear noises all day long, such as buzzes, traffic noise, someone else’s music, honking, nearby bars or Muzak while you are working? Do you live in a college dorm? Do you have any place you can go where it is completely silent?

We need to consider the amount of sound our children are exposed to in their lives. All day long they are at school. Is the school a noisy place? Does the school demand that the children learn to stay quiet for brief periods, as a discipline? Yes, it’s hard, but it’s a good practice to learn to tolerate both shouting of other kids and silence and stillness of an entire classroom. Imagine that. Does your kindergarten have “nap time”?

Realize the importance of turning off the TV. Realize the importance of silence in your child’s life and the importance of learning to live with no sound at all. Many children never ever know the world without unbearable noise in countries where there are no public libraries.

If you live in an urban area you may find it’s hard to find a quiet place. Same with some small towns especially in summer. Many towns can get rowdy on weekends and even allow fireworks. The sound bothers animals. Does it bother you?

What about traffic? Does the traffic on your street ever stop? When you go inside, do you still hear traffic noise? Believe it or not, the level of noise may affect you. It affects me so much that it was one of my main complaints about a few of my recent places I have lived. It’s hard to get people to understand. It’s not a matter of growing some skin, either.

Seriously, it isn’t. And if you have SPD too, and you’ve been told that, tell the person that you have plenty enough skin to cover your body and you’re human just like anyone else. You have the right to be here. I have the right to be here. You have preferences, as do I, and we all should be a wee bit more tolerant.

 

 

The sky is falling. OMG the Commies are coming! Y2K will get you next! Watch out for those escaped Mentally ill! Run to the Fallout Shelter! And now, bring on the clowns!

public-outcry-clown-sky-is-falling

Thanks again to a reader in New Jersey for sending me the link to this one.

I'm back!

Sorry, you guys…..You know I disappear sometimes. I’m back.

Here’s a question for you all:

We are all human. So…To what extent do we agree to change or conform in order to get along with other humans, hold down a job, keep our homes, or raise our families? How much is too much conformity? Should I change myself more? Or maybe differently? Are there other ways I can change that are easier or more agreeable to me?

I have had various suggestions. For one, “Go to therapy.” As you know, I have thrown that one out the window! To me, that one makes no sense because therapy breeds dependency and the risk for therapy abuse is too high. Plus I feel that the perps should go to therapy and are the ones who OWE it to society to submit to such sessions. I don’t even owe it to myself to go to any more abuse sessions, nor to return to appointment addiction.

Other suggestions include, “Go to bars to meet people.” I do not want to meet slobbering drunks! I would rather meet sober people or folks that have less interest in relying on alcohol as a means to “loosen up” since that actually doesn’t compute with me. That’s why I think bus stops and street corners are fine places to meet people.

Another: “Wear makeup and change your hair and get your teeth whitened.” Why on earth should I do that? I look like a clown with makeup on. My hair is fine like it is. I doubt a new hairstyle will buy me friends. I brush my teeth because I don’t want to lose any more of them, and because I feel better if they are brushed and don’t have slime on them. Undoubtedly, good hygiene is important if you want to get by in life. While the expensive frills might be good for that job interview, I wouldn’t want a job where I had to look like that every day, anyway. I would never wear heels nor so-called “hose.” Does anyone wear that stuff anymore? It’s anti-feminist.

Let’s see, what other suggestions did I get. Oh yeah, “Meditate.” I don’t mind hearing this one except the gurus keep saying that I’m a sinner if I don’t. I’ve even had people tell me what a terrible person I am because I choose not to meditate. I dislike it being pushed on me like it was some newfangled religious cult.

Listen: We all have Freedom of Thought. This means if I choose to pray, I can. I can pray to anything I want, or not pray at all. I can meditate if I want, or not meditate. I am a full-grown adult who has been old enough to choose for myself for a long time. This is my choice. My right to choose for myself. I am open to anyone’s suggestions. However, I do not owe it to you, to the world, nor to myself to participate in any religious nor spiritual practice including yoga, prayer, meditation, exercise, therapy, or anything else anyone claims as curative or the answer to the world’s problems or claims it will solve MY problems. I feel that no one knows better what will solve my problems than me, and no one knows better what will solve your problems than you. I cannot tell you what to do and you cannot tell me what to do.

With these recommendations, sometimes folks forget about the basic delineation between ourselves. Folks can recommend, but please do not step on my toes nor try to tell me how to think.

I have looked over the various SPD forums and sometimes I laugh. Having discovered this a few days ago I note that others like me who learn of this late in life are ten times more angry than I am. Why is this? I am cracking my butt off laughing at the misdiagnoses! Of course! That’s why I am such a klutz! And I am laughing since the fools are now ten times more foolish. Thumbing my nose at those idiot doctors, those so-called “experts” who should have known.

That plus people begging for a cure. Why? Adapt! What do you want? Don’t own glass stuff because it’ll break!  Don’t buy it anymore. Expect things to drop. Put a rubber mat on the floor if you have to. Don’t wear white if you are drinking coffee. Don’t even buy clothes that are dry clean only. If you’re as old as I am you learned this from experience.

Yes, I’d love to own a glass measuring cup. I go to the store and look at them wistfully when I see them on sale. I say to myself, “I’d love to have one just like my mom’s.” But I can’t. I know better. I’ll break it. This is kinda where I draw the line, where the world and I meet eye to eye. I don’t see myself as limited nor incapable. I’m elsewhere, doing other things, and frankly, there’s only time left for what I CAN do anyway.