There must be more than one.

FISHALUMP.

Drinkie

I must not forget, Sam was kind enough to give me a bottle of cheap fruity wine (YEAH!). Granted, I had bought it several days before and left it in the trunk of his car accidentially when it fell out of the grocery store bag, but it's the thought that counts, right? He even wrapped it pretty.

So, ever grateful, I drank it.

Happy Belated X-Mas

We survived the day! What were the odds?

Unbelievably the kid slept until almost noon. That was a gift in itself. And everything excited her. A gracious recipient of gifts she is, especially for a nine year old. And while I truly believe it is better to give than receive, I must say, I made out like a bandit as well. :-) One of her gifts to me was a beautifuly rendered version of Jingle Bells on the double bass with her new bright purple bow.

I think I have Sam pretty well figured out. The new GPS was unrealistic, so it will have to wait, but I did manage to give him a couple things to graph. Graphs make Sam happy, and I like it when Sam is happy.

Santa came in full force, Amy must have been a good girl this year - if not I can't even imagine what he would have left if she was even BETTER - a car perhaps?

I kind of like to be a spectator. I don't expect much. I get a real kick out of watching their reactions when they open their presents. I like that split second when the guard is down and you can see what they really think. Of course, I kind of suck at actually READING those reactions, but hey, nobody's perfect. One can only be so brilliant and talented. Even I have my limits.

But Sam absolutely FLOORS me. He often seems unsure as to what I might like, and then showers me with perfect presents...or maybe I am just easy to please...

Rotten Apples

We all have our talents.

One thing I have always been good at is being a doormat. Not the best thing to be but someone’s gotta do it, right? I can stand up and fight for a cause, but only if it’s not just MY cause. If I come across a rude cashier, I slump off grumbling and whine about it later. If they’re rude to the next people in line, though, watch out!

I have repeatedly gotten myself in trouble with the naive belief that everyone everywhere has some good in them, and it’s possible to find it and nurture it to help that lost soul become a stronger, better person. I was willing to drop everything to help someone, even if they had already – repeatedly – engaged in a jig on my head/heart/whatever tender flesh may have been available. I thought everyone could be rehabilitated. Now, though, I am not so sure.

It’s sad to meet someone who is all messed up because they are unbalanced, maybe they had a traumatic childhood (who didn’t to some extent), maybe they just didn’t get enough hugs, maybe they need their dosage tweaked, whatever. Maybe they’re just plain mean, ugly and dumb. Regardless they deserve a little pity, don’t they? I readily admit to being a bit of a nutter, but not to the extent I could use it convincingly as a defense. I know right from wrong, and while at times I may feel the urge to cross that line I still have that mechanism that makes the average person stop short of burying the screwdriver in the eye of the condescending prick at the hardware store who thinks it might be a good idea to wait for your husband before you make a decision because after all, who is going to be doing the work (likely me, fartface). I have my moments, we all do, but that's what they are, moments, not a lifetime. But maybe for some of these poeple nothing helps. Because thy don't want to be fixed, or don't acknowledge there is really any problem to be fixed, or just don't believe they CAN be fixed (if it worked for Tinkerbell, it must be true)...Maybe in that case broken just means broken.

But then there’s that other class of whackos. The ones who are either completely unable to discern right from wrong, or who could simply care less because there is no conscience there muttering in their ears that maybe it’s not such a good idea. Because they don’t really feel much of anything, but the really smart ones figured out that best way to hide isn’t to, it’s to be out there, right in front of the world, anticipate the expected emotion, then emulate. And we probably pass someone like this every day and never notice. And maybe someday you actually make eye contact with a psychopath. And they acknowledge you. And then they smile. A cold, hard smile that never quite makes it to their eyes. And you find yourself taking extra care to make sure the doors are locked up tight. You watch the shadows, for movement, strain your ears to identify every little sound because you know they know you know.

Question II:

What would possess anyone to live at the foot of an active volcano anyway?

Question:

Ever get the urge to nominate someone as a sacrificial virign to Pele, even though you know that she wouldn't want them what with the whole purity issue?

Mean people suck.

Foo!

I am watching a show on the "Dropas" about a spaceship crash in China 12000 years ago. They say that in the early half of last century an explorer found a cave fillled with many strangely shaped buried bones and a seried of thin stone disks, now called the "Dropa Stones" Apparently some time later someone managed to "translate" some of the spiral heiroglyphs on the stones and found the name. Theory is that they are the remnants of an ancient alien civilization who had the misfortune of wrecking here.

Because of a couple of my TiVo wishlists, I tend to pick up stuff like this - and always there are these dorky looking lispy guys drooling in their excitement of being taken (somewhat) seriously, rambling on about the world conspiracies and trying to convince everyone that the stories are indeed true, there are aliens among us and above us WATCHING us and some people just don't want to you know. Beware!!!!

To this I must say, please stop your inane ramblings, because as long as you've got every nutter in the world looking up my people will not be coming back for me.

Thank you.

Mousies!

We needed to have the bug people check the maybe new house to make sure that there was nothing eating it. Real termites instead of "termite people" (white men figuratively gnawing at what's left of the rainforests). But whether or not there were bugs is irrelevant. What matters is that Sam let me call the mousie car guys!!!

The nose was red and the ears were soft and furry.

The whole bottle

Sam said I could buy the wine as long as I promised not to drink the whole bottle, but it is here, and I am here, and we are both here together and I am thinking we SHOULD be together and it's not like he said specifically that I could only have one glass. He just said not all of it and if I leave a little bit in the bottle that should make it okay, right? Ooh, or maybe the birdie wants some....

Here, Zuri.....

Earl-eye in the morining.

Cheap fruity wine makes me happy.
None of that fancy-schmancy special vintage crap.
I'm talking $3 a bottle with a twist off cap.
Yeah.
Ooh baby, that's what I like.