A quandary, a riddle, a conundrum… No matter how I look at it, I’ve got a question… Or do I have a riddle wrapped in a question? Maybe I just have a puzzling question or a problem. Are conundrums the same as doldrums?
Where am I going with this rambling rant of non-sensical drivel? The entire first paragraph are examples of a conundrum. Most recently, or at least since about 1800, we have associated the word with a puzzling problem that needs resolution. My most recent conundrum is there is a fella on the dating site that I would be genuinely interested in. I sent him a message and he never responded. A week or so later, I am fairly certain I saw him at the dog park. We said Good Morning and kept on our respective walks. My conundrum is, do I send him a message and ask if was him or ask how he enjoyed the dog park (a little stalkerish), or do I just roll on and forget about it?
The Oxford English Dictionary advises while the origin of the word conundrum is lost, the earliest recorded use of the word is 1596. But the word possibly originated in some university joke, or as a parody of some Latin term of the schools, which would agree with its unfixed form in 17–18th century as a pun or play on words with similar sounds.
I am dying to know what is it about me or my profile that the only people who message me are the people I have ZERO interest in. I boldly sent the following message to a couple of fellas:
This message is really more just for curiosity and personal growth than anything, but what about my profile wasn’t of interest or made you not want to respond to my original message? My inbox is full of hey, hi, and inarticulate drivel from people I have no interest in. I’m trying to figure out how to make an actual connection on this site and if that’s actually possible.
I think my real conundrum is HOW to meet a fella I have something in common with that does not involve a sales pitch and the internet. I volunteer in my community, I am at the park daily, I go to public watering holes where the opposite sex visit, and I am making an effort to be more visually appealing (as my mother told me, I put on lipstick). If I were willing to date someone in my office, my social calendar would be full. I had to laugh the other day, I had a guy nearly trip over himself checking me out. I assure you this DOES NOT happen in the real world.
This whole online dating thing is making me a little conundrumed (1629; crotchety or slightly crazed). I’ve gussied up the display racks, the store shelves are stocked with merchandise, and the Open sign is lit. But no one is shopping in my store. Part of the conundrum is why am I doing this if no one is interested in my wares? I think my store is too progressive and too bold for this market. I feel like a voodoo priestess who just set up shop in Utah.
A couple side notes: The awesome art here is from my friend at Draw Eric. Please check out his other work.
I love Eric’s work. We have been friends since college when we met in an art class. We have been through so many of life’s ups and downs together. He sent me the art a couple weeks ago and I haven’t looked at it again until today when I sat down to plug it into my blog. It struck me how his images (both of them) so perfectly reflect and complement the words that flowed out of me today. The top image is a maze or convoluted path leading to or around a heart. The bottom image is the dragon I think these weird Memphis fellas think I am.
I hate to confess, but this month’s B word is not what I wanted it to be. But it is what it is… I have had four of the most fun filled days and while I have spent weeks pondering, deliberating, and discussing what my B word should be this month, it just came to me. I am feeling rather blasé about “B”.
According to the Oxford English Dictionary, blasé is exhausted by enjoyment. It is interesting to note that while the OED gives some etymology, that the origin is French; the past participle of blaser to exhaust by enjoyment, this is a modern word of unknown etymology.
First appearing in 1819, the word had the connotation of exhausted by enjoyment, weary and disgusted with it; or used up. After my weekend of merriment, I myself am exhausted by enjoyment. Or as Merriam- Webster puts it: apathetic to pleasure or excitement as a result of excessive indulgence or enjoyment. There was plenty of excessive indulgence this weekend.
More recent uses (1930’s to current) of the word blasé mean bored or unimpressed through over-familiarity; insensitive, supercilious, or unconcerned.
So I am going to Bed and Blissfully dream about Bacon, Bees, Bicycles, and knit Bombing. When I wake, I will Boldly Bound into my new day with a Breezy devil-may-care.
Be Well and enjoy the Beauty your day Brings.
Also, another reminder, remember I need your help…
I am a drone in an invisible sea of drones. I’m perfectly happy being invisible and getting my work done and being left alone to do it. Evidently I do something right because people come to me and ask me how to do xyz or abc. I find that pretty flattering, but also a little disconcerting, because I’ve tried to not let anyone know I know anything.
What I have made abundantly clear is I have a life on the outside. Kinda sounds like prison, sorta… But, my point is I’m the office do-gooder, cheerleader, and work-life balancer. I’ve encouraged people to work on Rebuilding Together, to walk with us for a cure and most recently I got us an inner-office art show. It is this, that I am most proud.
It began a year ago when we moved into a new space. Bare walls begging for art. And they go to posters .com to fill the walls!! WTF?! We have however many floors of worker bees and without hesitation I could name half a dozen co-worker artists whose work should grace that space.
We have an annual survey of stupid shit like are there enough beatings, is moral low enough, should the beatings increase, and how can we possibly make your time here suck more? After we complete the survey, uppers review our “anonymous” answers and we have a meeting to discuss what we are going to do to improve this. After the posters incident, I said in a meeting, I wanted to see an exhibit of our collective creativity. It has taken a year, a few “surveys of interest” and a couple of presentations to make this happen. The little mouse’s voice was finally heard.
While our artist participation wasn’t great in numbers (I’m sure that had nothing to do with the fact we got this together in 2 weeks after a year of feet dragging), it was great in creativity and enthusiasm. We had someone bring in fimo beads with faces and flowers, a cast bronze bowl, gorgeous photos, lots of drawings, a dream catcher repurposed from a tomato cage (brilliant!), poems, a glass mosaic, and a rag rug made from old mis-matched socks. I am like a proud parent that we got this off the ground and that an office overflowing with apathy and indifference gave this the slightest nod.
I’ve had several people come by my desk and tell me how good everything is and how happy they are folks brought stuff in. I guess the invisible shield is coming down. I suppose it’s ok when I’m known for working to live and not living to work.