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Tuesday, September 20, 2005
and boy do I need it
I'm going to a Christian ladies' retreat this weekend. The timing is perfect -- not because (as is so commonly discussed among women, and which actually sort of torques me off) I need a weekend break from my family. Although the idea of six meals for which I do not have to shop, plan, cook, or clean up has a certain appeal. No, it's because I've been feeling spiritually flat as a pancake lately. Not dead, not empty -- just kind of la di da bored. I'm hoping that one way or another, a weekend of study, praise, and worship will give me a bit of a jolt.
And here's another thing I need. It's actually a favor from all of you. What makes you weird? Is there anything you do or used to do as a kid that was... a little different? Bonus points if a) you thought everyone did what you did but boy were you wrong or b) you had tics or oddities as a child and outgrew them. This weird mom of some non-average kids needs a bit of help remembering that normal is just a wash setting on her dishwasher. It would help my sanity. :)
I'll start. Many of you know (because I think I've talked about it here before, but maybe not) that I see words in my head when I hear speech. (Hi, I'm Rachel, and I see words in my head). It's like -- a transcript, if you will, or subtitles, of everything I hear, and it's always happening. Sometimes it flashes up all at once; usually it comes up one word at a time; occasionally (especially when I'm talking) one letter at a time, like typing. There are... fonts involved. And occasionally colors. I have a theory: I am a visual learner, this I know, which is why I'm a good speller. I think that this seeing-words thing (which I can not remember ever NOT doing) is my brain's way of making me remember what I hear. If I don't visualize the words (as in, if I'm sidetracked or very busy), I don't remember what was said, and then I get things like my husband saying, "I TOLD you I was going to work on his car this weekend," and I have to kind of just fake it and go, "oh yeah. Of course you told me; silly me, I forgot." I was all of about twenty-eight years old when I found out that I was the only person I know of (besides Anne Shirley) who does this. I thought everyone did, until one memorable morning when I mentioned it to T in a matter-of-fact sort of way and he started slowly...backing...away from me.
Also, for years, I couldn't sleep if anything was touching my face. Hair -- sheet -- hand -- nothing. It gave me a sort of cold-chills feeling that wasn't exactly cold chills. I did eventually get over that, but until I was married I thought nobody could sleep with something touching his/her face. And I can't stand the feeling of taking an acrylic sweater (or egads, an afghan -- I beg the kids to do the afghans) out of the washing machine, or of erasing a chalkboard. This last is a new one. I do it, but I get chills up and down my spine every time.
So. If you haven't fled yet (and I didn't even mention what I see in my brain when nobody's talking!*)... add your contributions in the comments. Please? It always helps me feel better to know I'm not the only one; doesn't that work for you too?
(*It's random words. Serendipity. Oglethorpe. ending. heavily. multitudinous. I stopped typing/actively thinking, and those were the words that came to mind just then.)
