Three Positives for a Negative

Last year I attended an intense 4-day leadership workshop as part of my job. One of the activities we had to do was to get up in front of the group and the two trainers and do or say something that would inspire the trainers to stand up. If they both stood up, you could cross to the other side of the room and sit down. If they did not stand up, you had to go back to the rest of the group who had not crossed yet and get back in line to try again. People did all sorts of things to get across – singing, dancing, telling funny stories, telling personal stories and crying, etc. The trainers did not make it easy to get across. As I stood there trying to think of what to do, I noticed that my tremors were particularly bad that day and being a little anxious made them worse. I don’t like to share a lot of personal information in a group like that and telling a sob story is just not my thing. Finally it came to me to just be myself. I have challenges but I am a very positive person so I decided to use that. That’s where my idea of Three Positives for a Negative came to be.

I walked up in front of the group and said, “I am a positive person. I have challenges but, for every negative, I can come up with three positives to offset it.” Then I held up my hand, which was shaking like crazy at this point, and said, “I have a disorder that causes hand tremors. It’s more of a nuisance than anything else and it will probably get worse as I get older. That’s the negative.” Typically I don’t share much personal information with coworkers and I’m pretty good at hiding my tremors so I saw shock on their faces as they watched my hand shake. I looked at the group and then said, “So the positives? I can double click a computer mouse like a champion, play the tambourine, and shake an unopened bottle of juice like nobody’s business.” The trainers stood up. Everyone burst into laughter right after the “mouse” comment and nobody actually heard the other two positives. Later, people had to ask me the other two since they did not hear them. I felt really proud of myself after that. It truly was a life changing moment for me.

I was thinking about what I wanted to share in my blog today. The three positives and a negative popped up in my head. I am not feeling well today and I woke up with a swollen eye (not sure why) but it’s a beautiful day, I opened windows, and my boys are laughing and having fun. The positives changed my outlook on what could have been a “Woe is me” day.

Why three positives? Why not just one positive to out weigh a negative? I think sometimes negatives can carry a lot of weight. We get bogged down in the negative because that is what seems to stand out the most. Negatives have a tendency to wipe out the positives. I think it takes at least three positives to make one think, “I guess I don’t have it that bad after all.” Here’s an example – financial trouble, more specifically, you have a large medical bill and currently can’t afford to pay it. That can be very worrisome. Let’s say you counter financial trouble with “well, at least I have my beautiful children”. That helps a little but that financial trouble is still weighing on you. So let’s add a second, “well, at least I have my beautiful children and we can play outside for free in this beautiful weather.” Not bad but you still feel kind of half-hearted about the positives outweighing the negatives. Let’s add just one more, “I have my beautiful children, we can play outside for free in this beautiful weather, and it’s the weekend so I can relax and enjoy!” I think we just kicked the negative’s ass right there.

My point is, your outlook is a choice. You can choose to feel sorry for yourself and dwell on the negatives but, if you open your eyes, you might find that things aren’t as bad as you think they are. It doesn’t mean you solve all of your problems or ignore them, it simply means you live in the moment. Come up with a plan to live with or fix the negatives but they don’t have to consume your entire life. The positives are like ninjas, lurking in the shadows, but if you summon them, they will assassinate the negative (or at least maim it).

Below are my positives for today – what are yours?

Happy Birthday to Jay

At midnight tonight, it will be thirty-three years since the world set into motion the greatest blessing that was ever to come my way.  My husband, Jay, was born. 

We met when we were twenty years old and were married within nine months.  Most people did not think we stood a chance at lasting but we’re working on year thirteen now and could not be happier.  Just less than two years later we welcomed our first son.  We now have three beautiful, healthy boys.  Jay chose to become a stay at home dad when my career took an upswing.  He left a job he had held for many years at a well known company to do what was right for his family.  Since then he has also built the beginnings of a great business doing what he loves, selling football cards and memorabilia.  Our boys have also grown to love football to be more like Daddy.  By his actions alone, he teaches them every day to follow their dreams.

Life has not always been easy for us despite how happy we are.  Along the way we lost two pregnancies and were devastated by each loss.  Despite his own grief, Jay was my rock and helped me through it.  We have weathered any storm together and have grown stronger as a result.  We have also laughed, loved, and lived more than I thought was possible.

When our third son was born, I had some complications that resulted in an emergency c-section.  I was terrified and worried about my baby boy but Jay was, once again, my rock.  Our baby came out healthy but my body suffered.  I quickly began losing blood and Jay stayed by my side in the operating room until I drifted into unconsciousness.  I woke up five hours later to learn that it was a miracle I made it out of the operating room alive.  Thanks to a very skilled doctor, an emergency hysterectomy, and a blood transfusion to replace almost five pints of blood, I made it through.  While physically, the night was roughest on me.  I believe my Jay had a more difficult night.  He was ushered into an adjoining room and handed our newborn baby boy.  They did not have time to take our son to the nursery as is usually done after birth.  My husband sat in that room, alone with his newborn, for hours.  Occasionally a nurse would rush in to give him an update.  He sat there frightened that he would be raising our three boys alone.  For all that my body went through that night, Jay had the tougher time.    He still does not like to talk about it much and that was almost five years ago.  He never forgets a chance to tell me he appreciates and loves me.  I’m so thankful to still be here and share my life with him.

Since then my body has not completely recovered and I have developed several chronic illnesses.  Our life is not exactly what I thought it would be due to my illnesses but Jay does not complain.  We have learned to appreciate the simple things and have made adjustments when needed.  He is still my rock and I cannot believe how lucky I am to have him.  He is so unselfish when it comes to me.  If I could return just half of the love and support he has given to me over the years, I would feel like I could give him the world.

So, to the kindest, warmest, funniest, smartest, and most endearing man I’ve ever known, I say Happy Birthday.  I love you with all of my heart.  My world is a brighter place because of you.  Happy Birthday, Jay!

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my mom’s birthday.  I wanted to write a blog post entirely devoted to her.  I can’t express how wonderful my mom is and how much I love her but I’m going to try anyway. 

I thought about writing about the things that my mom did while I was growing up because she was a wonderful mom.  It just did not seem to be enough.   Then I thought about writing about what an excellent example of marriage she and my dad set for me.  That did not seem to be enough either.  My mom is the epitome of what a wife and mother should be.  I could write a book about these things but that is not enough either.  She is so much more.

My mom is loving.  One of the most loving people I have ever known in my life.  She loves her husband, children, grandchildren, parents, siblings, relatives, and friends fiercely.  Her heart bleeds when their hearts bleed and her heart soars when good things come to those she loves.

My mom is generous.  She is quick to help others and I do not know where I would be without her.  I want to be more generous, like her.

My mom is compassionate, sympathetic, and empathetic.  I think my mom feels more than most people.  I don’t mean that in a neurotic or emotional way.  I think she genuinely feels others’ pain, happiness, sadness, and excitement the way they do.  It’s amazing to see how much she feels.  The world needs more of that.

My mom is a child of God.  I’ve watched her grow in her Christianity over the years and it’s inspiring.  She is not judgmental and does not preach.  She merely lives her life loving the Lord and it shows.  She’s the Christian example I want to be.

My mom is humble and modest.  Sometimes maybe too much so because I don’t think she realizes what amazing gifts she possesses.

My mom is smart and very well read.  I wish I could build her a library for her vast book collection. 

My mom is passionate.  She doesn’t think she is creative but I’ve seen otherwise in the beautiful quilts she makes and in the amazing foods she prepares.  I’ve learned more about wine from her than anywhere else and have come to really appreciate it.  She can also talk sports with the best of them and my husband has been impressed with that from day one.

My mom is one of my best friends.  Growing up we did not always see eye to eye but becoming an adult with my own family, I have learned to appreciate her in ways I never realized I would.  She is my rock.  When life has thrown me curve balls (and there have been quite a few), she has helped me through it and loved me fiercely.

So on your 60^th birthday, Mom, I want you to know how much I love you.  You deserve to be celebrated every day of your life. 

Writing Prompt - Genuphobia (fear of knees or kneeling)

I decided to try another writing prompt.  Enjoy!

Create a character that has an unusual phobia. Write a scene that causes that character to face his fear.

Alice Montgomery was a genuphobe.  She could not remember when her fear of knees first started.  There was not a traumatic event that she could remember.  She grew up in a normal, middle-class, Catholic family.  As her fear progressed she had to leave the Catholic Church because it required too much kneeling and she could not handle such a stressful situation.  Her parents were disappointed but they understood. 

Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery had always been perplexed by their daughter’s strange fear.  When she was a little girl, Alice would cry and shake hysterically if she fell and scratched her knee but she never let them care for or bandage her injury.  Eventually she stopped riding her bike and playing basketball in the driveway to avoid such injuries.  As a joke, her older brother, Malcolm, would sometimes put his knee pads on her bed.  Alice would become panic-stricken and refused to sleep in her own bed for weeks.  Her parents just chalked it up to a phase and didn’t pay it much mind.

When Alice was 13 years old, her fear had grown increasingly worse.  Her friends all joined the middle school volleyball team but Alice refused because of the knee pads and increased chance of scraping her knees.  Her English teacher was the girls’ soccer coach and tried to encourage Alice to join the team but Alice declined.  She knew that knee injuries were common in soccer.  She even refused to watch the World Cup with her family. 

One day in science class, Alice had been sitting at her desk diligently working on an assignment when the bell rang, startling her.  Alice jumped and hit her right knee on the cross bar that connected the desk to the chair.  For anyone else this would not have been a big deal but for Alice, it was terrifying.  She jumped out of her seat and began hyperventilating until she passed out.  When she woke up, she was lying on a cot in the school nurse’s office and the nurse had an ice pack on her bruised knee.  Alice screamed and kicked her leg up in the air to remove the ice pack, kicking the nurse in the nose and breaking it.  For months afterwards kids would tease her in the hallways and some went as far as to put knee pads in her locker just to watch her go to pieces.  Alice became constantly anxious and nervous both at school and at home.  Her teachers had to bring in tables that were not attached to the chairs because Alice refused to sit in the desks that everyone else used.

Her parents became concerned that Alice’s fear was not a phase and that their little girl might, in fact, be crazy.  Week after week they drove Alice to different pediatric offices hoping to find an answer.  Most of the doctors brushed it off as a childhood phase and refused to listen further.  A couple doctors gave her different medicines to try and treat the symptoms caused by her fear.  Most of those medicines made Alice very sleepy and sluggish.  Her grades started to suffer because she was falling asleep in class so often.  Eventually her parents gave up, as they could not find anyone who could help their paranoid daughter.  Alice stopped taking the medicine and her parents stopped taking her to doctors.  They just decided it was Alice being Alice and there was nothing they could do to help their daughter.

Throughout the rest of her teen years, Alice became good at avoidance.  Anything she thought would cause any contact with her knees she avoided.  She never wore pants, instead, chose to wear short skirts and shorts year round.  She stopped going to church.  She even refused to get her driver’s license because the steering wheel sat too close to her knees.  Alice did not have any friends and she was alone most of the time.  She spent most of her free time writing stories that took place in magical lands where no one had knees.  Her parents and brother grew increasingly concerned about her future and what would become of their peculiar Alice.

Alice went on to college to study writing.  She wanted to be a novelist so she could stay in her little protected world.  She wrote and sold her first story during her senior year.  The book was about a dancer who had her knees removed leading to a spectacular dancing career.  Alice’s book sold enough copies to sustain her for several years after graduation, during which time, she wrote several other books.  She was successful but was growing increasingly lonely. 

Alice went to dinner at her parents’ house every Sunday with her brother.  Malcolm was in college on a basketball scholarship and was the apple of their parents’ eye.  One particular Sunday, Malcolm brought home a friend from school.  His friend’s name was Thomas and Alice was immediately attracted to him.  She had closed herself off from people for so long that she had forgotten how nice a connection could feel.  Thomas appeared to be attracted to Alice as well.  Throughout dinner Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery doted on Malcolm, as usual.  Of course, Malcolm enjoyed the attention and spent most of the meal talking about his basketball games and how he was the star of the team.  Alice and Thomas stole shy glances at one another throughout dinner when they thought no one was looking.

At the end of the evening, Alice was in the kitchen washing dishes while the rest of her family and Thomas were in the family room watching a DVD of Malcolm’s most recent game.  While she was drying the dishes, Thomas slipped into the kitchen.

“Alice, I was wondering if you would like to grab a coffee with me later this evening,” Thomas said.

Startled by his presence, Alice jumped slightly but agreed, “That sounds lovely.  There is a coffee shop on Main Street.  I can meet you there at 9:00.”  Thomas smiled and then snuck back into the family room while Alice finished putting away the dishes.

That evening Alice and Thomas sat in the coffee shop talking until it closed.  Then they moved to Thomas’ car and talked some more.  As Thomas drove Alice home, she asked him some questions.

“Thomas, you didn’t tell me.  How did you meet my brother?”

“Well,” Thomas started, “I am studying to be an orthopedic surgeon so I have been shadowing the team’s doctor and that means attending practices and games.”

“Why would you need to shadow the basketball team’s doctor?” Alice inquired.

“I’m hoping to go on to work with players in the NBA and maybe some college players.  I plan to specialize in knee injuries,” Thomas answered. 

Alice froze.  They were five minutes from her house and she felt her heart start to beat faster and her breath quickened. 

“Alice, what’s wrong?” Thomas was concerned by the sudden silence.  Alice did not respond.  “Alice?” Thomas slowed down the car and pulled over to the side of the street.  Alice immediately jumped out of the car and started to run.

“Alice!” Thomas yelled chasing her down the street.  He was bewildered by this sudden change in his date.  “Please wait!  Please talk to me!”

Alice slowed down but not because Thomas asked.  It was dark and she knew that running increased her chances of tripping and scraping her knees.  She was breathing hard and could barely get any words out, “Please….take…me…to…my parents” and then she fainted.

When she awoke, she was lying in her old bed at her parents’ house and her mom was sitting next to her, worried.

“Honey, are you ok now?” Her mother asked and Alice shook her head.

“Where’s Thomas?” Alice asked, already knowing the answer. 

“He went home dear,” her mother said, “he was very worried about you and we explained your history.  I told him there was nothing else he could do here and to just go on home.  Then he left.”  Alice was not shocked that he left but she was surprised that instead of feeling relieved at avoiding him she, instead, felt sad.  Her mother sensed her sadness and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“He left you a note, Alice,” her mother said.  “I wasn’t going to give it to you but your dad said I should.”  Mrs. Montgomery handed Alice the letter and then left the room.

Alone, Alice opened the paper with her hands shaking. 

Dear Alice,
I have never met someone I felt so connected to in such a short period of time.  I know that you suffer from genuphobia.  Please don’t let that keep us apart.  I know we can work through it together.  Please let me help you.  I will be waiting tomorrow night at the fountain in front of city hall.  If you want to be with me, please show up at 7:30.  I will be waiting for you.
Love,
Thomas

            Alice clutched the letter to her chest filled with so much emotion.  She knew she had felt that connection too.  She knew what she had to do. 

            The next night at 7:30, Thomas paced back and forth in front of the fountain.  He had not slept the night before; worried that Alice may not come.  He checked his watch every minute that passed 7:30.  He was willing to wait here all night if it meant seeing her again.  Finally at 8:15, he saw Alice walking up the street.  His heart leaped into his throat.  She’s here.  She feels this too, he thought.

            Alice approached the cross walk, the only thing separating her from Thomas.  He smiled and she blushed.  He could hardly keep himself from running to her but he did not want to appear too eager.  Alice started across the street and then stopped.  Thomas felt as if the whole world stopped in that moment, even the breeze that was whistling between the trees paused.  Alice looked down and pulled a piece of paper from her purse.  She slowly folded it length wise and then folded again.  When she was done, Thomas could see she had folded a paper airplane.  Alice held it up and threw the plane.  Without the breeze blowing, it glided swiftly towards Thomas and he caught it, his heart beating a mile a minute.  Thomas unfolded the paper and read.

Dearest Thomas,
I felt that connection too.  I have never connected with another human being the way I did with you.  My heart is filled with emotion.  This feels like something that only happens in the movies.
However, this cannot be.  I will never be able to look at you without seeing my greatest fear.  I will never be able to let you touch me without knowing where your hand has been.  This breaks my heart but this cannot go on any further.
I am sorry.
Love,
Alice

             Heartbroken, Thomas stared at the page for a minute.  No, he thought, I know we can work this out.  He looked up to plead his case but Alice was gone.  It was as if she had vanished.  His heart sunk.  Alice chose fear over love.  It did not matter what he said or did, he would only be a giant knee to her. 

Writing Prompt - The Holiday Party

I recently discovered a great online resource for writers.  The website www.writersdigest.com is an excellent resource for any one interested in writing.  I stumbled upon a list of writing prompts and decided to try one out tonight.  Basically they give you a brief synapsis to get you started and then you write from that.  It's helpful to get your creativity flowing and get some additional writing practice.  Hope you enjoy my little experiment.

The prompt:  After drinking a few too many eggnogs at your annual holiday party, you wake up the next morning realizing you did some things you now regret. Write an e-mail to your boss that will ensure you still get a raise next year.

Dear Ms. Jones,

As I sit here recovering from what I can only assume was a severe case of behavior-altering food poisoning, I decided to write you this letter to apologize for Saturday night.  The work that you put in to create such a lovely and memorable holiday party for our group is much appreciated.  My husband and I had a delightful time.

When we first arrived, I hope you can forgive me for brushing past you to get in line at the bar.  Out of concern for my fellow coworkers (and one day maybe my subordinates), I wanted to make sure the bar and its bartender were of the utmost quality.  I did not realize at the time that the bartender was your boyfriend when I dropped my keys three times forcing him to bend over in front of me.  Had I known that he had volunteered out of the kindness of his heart, I would not have smacked his bottom quite so hard nor would I have instructed him to shake what his mother gave to him.  I am certain that his mother (God rest her soul) was a lovely woman.  Hopefully you were able to see my assertive nature and how well I am able to motivate people.

I know that family is important to you so I hope that you were able to view firsthand the commitment shared between my husband and I.  The multiple shots of tequila we drank encouraged my husband to become quite amorous.  He enjoyed the conversation you and I were having so much that he felt it necessary to show his appreciation.  Our company often encourages diversity and embracing different cultures.  I don’t want to brag but I do study different cultures in order to better myself.  In some cultures it is a sign of great respect when a man “motorboats” a woman in a public place.  My husband felt very drawn to the point you made about helping the homeless on Thanksgiving and he wanted to express his appreciation.  After I stopped cheering and laughing, I hope that you took notice of the way I conveyed constructive criticism.  Next time I assure you my husband will not leave as much saliva on your sweater.  I plan to follow up with him to confirm my instructions are followed.

I think I can speak for everyone in attendance when I say that the karaoke machine was a great idea.  It was such fun to see everyone singing their favorite tunes and dancing with the group.  Being a team player, my choice of song was meant to be a team building opportunity.  I thought the team would get a kick out of singing along to the uncensored 2 Live Crew medley I created at home.  I do not believe the song choice itself was to blame for the fight though.  I don’t think our Human Resources Manager was a fan of the interpretive dance I performed on her husband’s lap.  I did try to make it clear to her that her husband seemed to enjoy it.  She did not seem to be receptive to my suggestion about removing the company’s policy manual from her rear end in order to please her husband better.  I always thought that the Human Resources department was interested in helping people improve but I guess I was wrong.  I think that you will be pleased though that I was able to go through the proper channels in HR to diffuse a volatile situation.  I also think that I displayed good self-control when I stopped myself from punching her in the face a fourth time. 

It was very kind of you to provide escorts to help us to our car.  I think it speaks highly of our company that the local police officers are willing to provide services at our holiday parties.  I did want to make sure and let you know that some money will need to come out of our budget to pay for one of the officer’s dry cleaning bill.  The food poisoning really kicked in after my eighth whiskey and I was violently ill.  I am so glad to hear that no one else in the department drank the whiskey that night (or at least I assume that since no one else seemed as sick as I was).  Next year we may want to buy a different brand of whiskey to avoid this situation.  I think you will find that I am able to discover areas needing improvement and am quick to offer a solution. 

Again, I apologize if my illness on Saturday caused you any distress.  Looking back, I should have continued drinking tequila after my sixth shot instead of switching to whiskey but we live and learn, right?   I am looking forward to my performance review this week and hope that you will consider me for advancement in the department.

Sincerely,

Sara

P.S.  My husband and I would like to invite you and your boyfriend over for a party next week.  It will just be a handful of close friends.  Please bring your keys and an open mind.

I See Inspiration

Inspiration.  That is the only way to describe The Magic Gardens in Philadelphia, PA.  Back in April of this year, my mom, sister, niece, and I took a weekend long girls’ trip to Philly.  One afternoon my sister suggested we go to The Magic Gardens.  It sounds fantastic, doesn’t it?  The Magic Gardens – it brings up imagery of The Secret Garden (one of my favorite books as a child) and all sorts of wonderful things.  This particular “garden”, however, is not made up of plant life but it is chock full of splendor and imagination.

If you’ve never heard of this wonderful place, their Mission Statement says “Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens (PMB) preserves the artworks of Isaiah Zagar and educates the public about mosaic and folk art.  By making art accessible, PMG seeks to foster civic engagement, community beautification, and artistic collaboration”.  To learn more about the amazing story behind this place and the inspiring artist, click on this link:  http://www.phillymagicgardens.org/

My sister told me this place was covered in mosaics (a medium that I love).  I thought, “that sounds cool” and went along with it.  Her words (and mine now for that matter) do not do this place justice.  Overwhelming is putting it mildly.  I took A LOT of pictures with my 35mm film camera.  Even my pictures do not do it justice but I will attempt to try and inspire you with these photos, as the place inspired me.  I’m still moved by it and envious of the lifelong commitment Mr. Zagar made to his community and his passion.  I want to live my artistic life that way and so far, I am taking baby steps to get there.

So, without further ado, I will give you a small snippet of this insanely amazing labyrinth of mosaics. 

If you have a love of art, a love of community, and a drive to keep both alive, I highly suggest visiting The Magic Gardens and donating to keep it alive.  If we all lived our lives this passionately and determined, imagine what our world would be? 

Going off the rails on a crazy train

Have you ever said something out loud, forgetting that no one else was privy to the whole conversation you had going on inside your head leading to that thought?  I do it quite a bit.  One night, I asked my husband what his current thought was (he didn’t have one).  Then he asked me what mine was and I said, “I was thinking about bat blood.” 

I’m thinking this is a completely normal thing to think about, on a random week night while sitting next to my husband on the couch, right?  (I wasn’t right but you probably know that, so I digress.)  Of course, I promptly had to explain my train of thought so I thought it would make a good post.  So here is my train of thought to Bat Blood. 

SCENE:  Sitting on the couch next to my husband.  I may or may not have been crocheting. 

1. The T.V. was on, to rot my brain, and a commercial with a dog came on the screen.  It was cute.
2. I started thinking about funny dog breeds.  Shitzu was the first one I thought about because of its great name.
3. It reminded me of a joke.  I couldn’t quite remember the whole joke but I knew the punch line was “it was a shitzu!”  Get it?  Shitzu…shitzoo…shit zoo.
4. I was still chuckling to myself about the shitzu.  I may have thought, “good one, Sara!”
5. I thought about the zoo and how I’d like to go soon.
6. I thought about animals in captivity at the zoo and how it’s not always a good thing.
7. Then I thought if it’s not a good thing, what’s the point in having a zoo?
8. Then, being the optimist I am, I started to think of reasons that a zoo is good.
9. I thought, I bet a lot of kids who grow up to help animals and go into jobs that end in Ologist or Inarian, probably got the idea going to the zoo.
10. If they first became interested after a trip to the zoo, I wonder if there was one, stand out memory that is what triggered it.  I wonder if they still talk about that defining moment in their life.
11. Did I have one memory from going to the zoo?
12. Yes, I do.
13. In elementary school I went on a field trip to the Cincinnati Zoo.  On that trip, we got to do a behind the scenes tour to see what the zoo keepers (and other Ologists and Inarians) do.  It was all very interesting, I assume, but I only remember one thing.
14. They feed the Vampire Bats blood – cow blood, to be exact.  However, they have to purify it so the bats don’t get sick.
15. The Ologists and Inarians take a big vat of cow blood, roll up their shirt sleeves, scrub their hands and arms like they are going into surgery, and then…get ready…stir the bat blood WITH THEIR ARMS!!!  Apparently, clean arm hairs will pick out some gross things that can get into cow blood and hurt the bats. 
16. One thing wrong with this logic of de-grossifying the blood --- it’s still gross.  It’s blood and now these Ologists and Inarians have bloody arms.  I remember them liking this job.  I remember liking that job too – from afar.
17. Cow blood is gross.
18. Bats eat (drink?) blood.
19. I think a Twilight-ish movie would be funny where a bat falls in love with a cow.  The forbidden love.
20. If bats eat/drink blood, then does it change their blood at all? 
21. I guess it wouldn’t since we eat meat and our blood is still human blood.  I can’t imagine that a little bat would have a lot of blood anyway. 
22. Bat blood.

And there you have it.  When it happened, that train {of thought} ride probably lasted 5 minutes, if that.  And yes, I made up words and I probably (read: definitely) did not check facts about bat blood, but that happens sometimes on the train.  I think if I tried to make my random thoughts follow direction, I would never have any really creative ideas.  So my suggestion to you would be to just let the crazy fly sometimes.  You’d be surprised how much more creative you can be if you don’t limit your imagination and thoughts.

How’s that for unfocused creativity?  Now, dear readers, tell me I’m not completely crazy and that you think of this kind of thing too.   And…go!