Drunken Sailor

Question

2006-04-28T21:12:00.000-04:00

I have a question bouncing around in my head. it's not a particulatly clever question, I am not at all sure it even makes sense. Kind of came to me in a medicated haze. But it's bugging me, so here it is...

So there are a couple different versions of that Last Supper thingie. One gospel says that Jesus said that he would be betrayed by someone there but not who it was. One said that he would be betrayed by Judas. The assumption/belief whatever is that Judas was for whatever reason and ass, evil/mean/spiteful, what have you. He betrayed Jesus and was ultimately responsible for his death. But could the betrayal really have been the Gospel of Judas itself?

Or is it the rambling of some nutcases in the second century just trying to create a stir?

Is that a puppy in your pants, or are you just REALLY happy to see me?

2006-03-16T17:58:00.000-05:00

I don't know if the poor thing will prove to be more traumatized from the ride or because it's called a "puggle".

Growed up

2006-02-24T00:29:00.000-05:00

When I I'm all growed up I want to be...something.
I have given it much thought. I don't want to be a nurse because I have changed more adult diapers than then average bear already. Not gonna do that again. I thought maybe..PA, but every since ER and HIV Jeannie, it's become somewhat of a fad...It might be fun to be a doctor but then I think about gross anatomy and it's like, GROSS for a reason. Ick. I have trouble handling a dead fish. I have little doubt I would have considerably more trouble with a cadaver. WIth my luck I would get one fo my elementary school teachers. Igg. I thought for a while, I could be an engineer, but I suspect I would get very bored with that VERY quickly. My mom had suggested being and IT person but again...B.O.R.I.N.G!!!! That handly seems worth the 2 weeks of school to get the "certificate". Maybe I could be a...whatever it is you get to be with a degree in physics. That would be fun, however interesting it might be though, I suspect it too would loose interest for me. But then I started thinking, something interesting, imperfect, that I can relate to. Psychology. More specifically, the deviant mind. There are no depths to the deviants in this world, myself among them. And minor in world religions. So I could be all like Fox Mulder with the profiles and the ritual mutilations. Yeah baby. Messy mucky fun.

Quote:

2006-02-24T00:17:00.000-05:00

"We're suspending disbelief. It's all pretend."
-Robson Golightly Greene (2005)

Oops.

2006-02-14T10:47:00.000-05:00

hee, hee...

:-)

Sorry...I just couldn't help it.

No to crack!

2006-02-14T10:42:00.000-05:00

I am sovery impressed. The plumber is here and he fits NONE of the old stereotypes. He's even wearing a belt!
You go, nice, appropriately clad public service, even able to speak in complete sentences plumbing guy!

Broken

2006-02-10T12:46:00.000-05:00

I still remember when those "I've fallen and I can't get up" commercials started running. What great fun we all had mimicing and lauching about it. Imagine. Little old men and women falling down everywhere. Stuck in akward positions on the floor...alone. Funny.
I have to admit though, I remember a particular incident that while amusing in retrospect was not then.
My wheelchair-confined grandmother made what she considered to be a wise decision, at least to her stroke-muddled brain and decided to release the break on her chair while positioned at the top of the wooden ramp we had installed to get her from the house, across the porch and down to the sidewalk. I assume to pluch the dying heads off some fo the flowers in the garden. She rolled along a couple feet, then hit the lip of the ramp and the chair stopped, but her body had enough forward momentum to tip her over. Probably the clearest memory I have of dear Grammie was of her planted face first, granny brief-clad rear end in the air for all to see in the flower garden. And her main concern was that the man acrosss the street who tended to just watch the neighbors all the time in an almost creepy way had seen her panties. Forget the fact that she had in that few second moment between rolling her out and setting the break, to turn and close the front door she took quite the header...she could have broken her neck, back, hip...none of that mattered. What did matter was that everyone would know the color of her panties.
I look back and chuckle, because really, it was like a moment out of a sitcom. Then when I am ready to walk away, it's me lying on the ground. I always attributed it to plain klutziness, but what if it's more than that? Is there a whoopsie gene? Or is it just that 99% of the time my mind is somewhere else entirely? Or maybe my condition that I have done my best to ignore, deny, fight beyond-whatever has had an effect on my balance, or more likely my ability to do something as simple as walk, or sit in a chair without incident. I don't know. What I do know if after the last couple days I will no longer be so rudely amused by helplessness.

There is a time...

2006-02-08T21:21:00.000-05:00

So I understand that there is a time for everything, and that there is a REASON for everything. And we don't always understand the reasons.
Whether it's a single omnipotent entity, a matrix of energies, a whole flock of lesser dieties, or just a few mostly insane highly intelligent beetles from the fourth galazy to the left who have had a few extra doses of their meds, somehow, us mere mortals lare left to just accept it and live with it. In any case it's bulls**t.
I have had the crappiest last few months and so I am really leaning toward the alien bug theory. Unless that is, I care to fall back on the spiteful child's toy morble thing...

First, I discovered that no one in FL can be trusted to do something as simple as their job. And somehow, the customer is expected to be grateful that the CONTRACTED EMPLOYEE deemed to show up at all even if it's just to throw a beer party by your pool while you're away. And then they steal your recycle bins. They threaten and harrass you. They give you headaches, and yet somehow you feel bad for those fleeting thoughs that maybe, just maybe there will be a gas leak in the truck and when they start it up - woosh! Dunno. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.

I get that there are very few REALLY intelligent people in the world, taking into consideration the whole definition of average. So I don't expect the "average" Joe to you know, make an intelligent decision, but come on...the older I get, the more people I have the misfortune to meet, the more I wonder how the hell humans a species survived as long as we have. And I no longer have the energy to pity the ignorant. These days it's shallowly disguised distaste and I suppose eventually it will be open disgust. Whatever. I no longer think it is such a bad thing to feel superior anymore. At least I'm not stupid.

Then there was just the parade of crap going wrong. Cars going kaput. Tony 4000 miles away. Anything and everything that can break, has. It's insane. It's like some major karmicc kick in the ass and the thing is, I fail to see how it was anything I deserved. I am a good person. I am a kind person. I buy one of those little feed the world cards in the grocery everry time I shop. When they ask if I want to dnate to help homeless animals, I of course say yes. I put change in the red pot manned by the bell rining Santa. I open doors for oldleand play peek-a-boo with toddlers in their parent's shopping carts. I let cars cut in fromt of me even if I am in a hurry. I say please and thank you. I don't lie, cheat or steal. I have even handed over a chunk of the groceries to people holding up "Homeless, hungry" signs.

I got my puppy when he was a couple months old. He could sit in my hand, he yipped and chewed on my books made a general mess. He grew up with my little girl and he follwoed me around wherever I might go for almost 11 years. He was my dragon. And I watched the glow fade from him. Even though he was "old" I watched him truly grow old over the course of a few months. Until I could see the pain in his eyes, and the plea for release. And then I sat on the floor and stroked his head and told him how much I loved him as I paid the vet to kill him.

My father, who struggled and fought for years to survive died alone, unattended in a place he hated. He wanted so much to be home. Around people he knew and loved who knew and loved him. I was sure we had finally convinced him to work towards a new start. He was finally willing to go through the process to get the replacement pasts he needed to take a chance at a normal life again, and then suddenly, it's all for nothing.

My mother sugeests that there still may be a ways to go before hitting rock bottom. I question my ability to take any mre crap. But hey it IS Beat on Brandy year, so what the hell. Anyone else care to join in?

Working Girl

2005-06-30T20:49:00.000-04:00

So like, I was all like thrilled and proud of me cause I, like got a job and like stuff relatively quickly in this area, from what I understand. Not only that, but they said, how much are you expecting to get paid and I told them and like, I got it and everything. So like way cool.

But there is of course a downside, because there is ALWAYS a downside. Seems to me like there is always a penalty for being content...in my world that is. There always seem to be so many people happily tooling along and then there's me...now on the flip side, there are always people who are struggling to stay aflot and many who drown. And I am not worse off than they...at least I don't think so at the moment, but give me time I am sure that I will change my mind.

Time

2005-05-23T12:08:00.000-04:00

Being working makes me busy. NO mores time to play the bloggie. Must makesie time. Yammer and complan.Lotses to say!

Silly questions:

2005-04-29T10:33:00.000-04:00

One interview question that always tickles me -

Where do you expect to be in 5 years?

Doing YOUR job. Duh.

woo

2005-04-29T10:29:00.000-04:00

Finally gainfully employed. That was a long couple weeks.

JobShoppin'

2005-04-21T11:32:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I just started looking and I am horrified. I definately understand why so many families are considered to be at "poverty " level, even when the parents work.

The "cost of living" is supposed to be less here, but it's a crock. Property prices are skyrocketing out of control and all the counties want to raise taxes and utility companies provide substandard services and are riasing their rates too. MOvies are about a buck less. Big deal. That's about the whole of it. Food costs the same. Clothing costs the same. I simply don't understand.

I have to assume that big business makes big bucks operating out of a place like here because it's acceptible to pay minimum wage. Not only acceptible, but expected.

I thought I would call a couple agencies, see if they could give me a grip on the current job market and maybe slip into a good place through them, only to be horrified when they tell me the jobs that come through them are for less than HALF of what I was making 4 years ago. Eew.

And the resume is getting fat. I should get a job and only do one thing so that when I add it it doesn't make yet another page. Cause eventually it becomes too much. One would think that a long resume would be a sign of job instability, but you're allowed to skip around when you spend a period doing temp work as a way to broaden your horizions, right?
And I have to wonder why people say, "You've not worked for almost a year, why is that?"

What's the correct answer? The truth? "I moved twice and wanted to be settled first?" Cause the response to that tends to be like, "yeah, right". Like they think I was incarcerated for pulling a disgruntled postal worker bit at my last place of employment with a water pistol filled with Listerine. Or I was in lala land strapped to a gurney in a padded room singing nursery rhymes in between alternately screaming "I can fly" and "I love you Daddy Warbucks". Or I was running numbers for some dude named Vinnie that I met in a seedy bart, but he got sent up the river so I decided to go legit.

Not to say that's really stopped me. Out of the 15 or so inquiries I have made, I have had about 8 calls and I have interviews for like 5 jobs. That's a good thing. I could have more in a blink if I was willing to settle for FL pay, but that ain't happening. I am way too obsessive when it comes to my job, I deserve to get paid for being so. I tried explaining that, why I wouldn't work for less. It's kinda cocky sounding, in retrospect, but screw it.

Should I not have put my blog address on the resume?

Anyway, it's not like I am going mad looking for a career. Just a job. I have yet to be able to decide what I want to be when I grow up. No, that's not actually true. But I haven't figured out yet how to just BECOME a princess.

Hoppity

2005-03-27T12:28:00.000-05:00

I know Sam disagrees with me, but I simply do not see how that bunny can squirt out all those eggs.

Small

2005-03-18T10:07:00.000-05:00

I remember once time going int othe tent of a fortune teller at a state fair with my mom. The lady did her reading, told me I would be married (several times) with a bunch of kids by now, own my own business and be financially sucessful etc.
So after one wedding and one kid and a bank account balance even a kid saving only pennies wouldn't be proud of, I am thinking maybe she might have had me confused with someone else.

I remember though, the funniest part to me was my mothers ability to argue with the fortune teller. SHE said i was psychic. The fortune teller said my mother only wanted me to be psychic, but I wasn't really, thoug hshe herself was. ...in retrospect, I wonder if she was saying PSYCHOTIC. And if that fortune teller was wrong about everything else, then...

Ive League

2005-03-17T13:46:00.000-05:00

When Amy grows up she wants to go to Yale because that's where Rory Gilmore goes.

Waiting for the appearance of well-to-do grandparents to fund it.

Waiting...

Another

2005-03-16T13:50:00.000-05:00

Oh, and another thing:

Leave Terri and her husband be. It is not a subject to be discussed across the dinner tables of Americans all across the country. It is not a subject for television specials. It is something that should never have garnered as much attention as it has because it's no one's business but that of those directly involved. Those of you who think otherwise, perhaps you will change your minds when people call you a murderer on national TV for putting your ancient, incontinent, projectile vomiting, toothless cat to sleep. When there are nationwide vigils held to "Save Fluffy". When reporters call you at all hours of the day and night and animal activist strangers hurl bricks at your windows.

Take a moment to examine your own life and focus on change from within. Cultivate true values and stick to them all the time, not only when it suits you...lest ye be judged.

Med Rant

2005-03-15T09:31:00.000-05:00

You know, the state of the health care system these days is pathetic. It is 100% financially driven without and iota of thought for the human element - paitents. Seems like it used to focus more on the care of the paitents...making them well, KEEPING them well. Now it's all about what the insurance companies will and will not pay for. Who the hell came up with that brilliant idea anyway?

In some places you can't find a decent doctor to save yor life - literally - because all the true talents were driven away by the costs of insuraces, leaving a rag-tag group to do the best they can do for you (we hope) without overstepping the very specific bounds outlined by the HMOs.

I took my kid in one time because she stopped breathing. She was cyanotic. I got her to breathe again and took her to the ER. We presented her as: female, 3 years old with pnemonia, lost consciousness following double nebulizer treatment with albuterol. Lips turned blue, complained of stomach pain right before passing out. Shocked her into breathing again, and she vomited, then color returned somewhat. The doctor looked at her after we had to waiting the waitingroom for a couple hours and said, "oh, she's got pneumonia." When asked about the blue lips and the whole not breathing thing, he implied that I imagined it, and she was probably crying and knocked herself out because sometimes, when a kid is hystrerical, they can cry so long they forget to take a breath and pass out but that is completely harmless. I probably mistook the blue for purple, and so chalk the whole thing up to a hysterical mom.

I am not an idiot. I know basic mathematics. I know how to spell relatively well, I have a better understanding of basic first aid than many, and I know my color wheel. I tend not to panic in situations where a clear head is necessary (I usually lose it right before a party...big stuff there) I know the difference between a temper tantrum and a child whispering, "mommy, my tummy feels yucky:" And I know when I am being blown off by someone who for some reason could care less about being a good doctor and saving lives. he was probably preoccupied with how he was going to pay his mortagage or something. I don't know. What I do know is that there was no concern at all for my child. What should have happened, was the kid should have been put on a monitor and been given a dose of the offending medication and watched closely to gage her reactions. Instead what did happen, was i was handed and information sheet on Pneumonia (which they were astute enough to tell me she had) and sent on my merry little way with my mother, vetran nurse of over 35 years who was equally furious with the system and the moroic ass who somehow managed to buy himself a piece of paper that says DOCTOR.

But that is what we have come to.

My mother gets released from the hospital today. Goody! I am glad, but I would feel more comfortable with the thought of her being at home, alone if perhaps tyhe reason for her being in in the first place was resolved. Exertional chest pain. They have determined that the most conservative way to treat this problem is by aggressivly medicating her. Okay. I will defer to the cardiologist. SHE trusts him and that indicates to me that he's actually a pretty good doctor. But as of this morning, she is still having pains and still not on the new mix of meds. So hopefully, sometime in the next few hours she will be given the new cocktail, and it will work because my understanding is, as of now, she can't walk up two flights of stairs without signifigant pain. The sensible thing to do here is give her the meds, then give them time to kick in, then hook her up tho the monitors and stress her in a controlled situation to determine whether they work because it would be a very unpleasant thing to determine that they do not while she is trudging up the sidewalk to get to the front door and had an MI.

Unfortunately, that's not an option BECAUSE THE INSURANCE COMPANY WON'T PAY FOR IT. Cause hey, if she dies, it's not like they'll lose any more money on her, right?

Maybe I have just had way too much caffiene and I am getting more riled up than I should. Maybe I am just a nutter with crazy ideas and I spend my days sitting in a corner talking to my hair. But what I want to know is this: At what point did the medical world as a whole stop working to help the people and why didn't anyone try to stop it?

Still mine

2005-03-14T20:43:00.000-05:00

My mommy is still mine! She goes home tomorrow on new and "better" drugs! She will have to take it easy, like forever, but she is still mommy and still mine and I love her!

Moms

2005-03-12T17:22:00.000-05:00

I'm still young enough to occasionally want to run to my mommy and curl up in her lap and have her tell me everything will be okay, and have that make things all better. Granted, my mother was never the type to play the"everything will be alright" card. She was always far to realistic for that. And if I were to curl up on her lap, I would smother her and she would die. But still, figuratively, it would be a nice idea.

Even though I am now far away (though not the farthest I have lived from her) I still call all the time to share my frustrations and vent while she tells me I am being silly, or I need to get organized, or just tells me to shut up cause she doesn't want to hear it AGAIN, but when my source of stress is HER, I have no one to call. So what do I do?

We did not always get along as well as I would have liked, but in retrospect, while we had our problems, we were still closer than a lot of people and so I was kind of lucky. Disfunctional? Duh, but still something good there. Enough for me to want to run there right now and be the pay her back for taking care of me for all those years by doing the same for her.

Instead though, I am here going through the mundane motions of everyday life and WISHING I was there and knowing that even if I was there would be nothing I could do except for being there and while she says no, wait, see what will have to happen, I know she would be glad to know that I was there.

I swear if this all turns out to be related to some failure on the part of the surgeon down here doing something wrong because he was stupid and didn't pay attention, I will personally track him down, punch him in the nose to make him cry, kick him in the shins and then knee him in the balls. Apparently he's one of the best cardiologists in the area, but who knows if it's because he's so cocky people believe it or if he's actually any good.

So now my mom is lying in an inner city hospital bed in a un-private room with a roomate who talks to herself, and phone that doesn't work and a tv that only shows a series of pictures of landscapes that she amuses herself by trying to identify and I am 1000 miles away and I can't do a damned things for her - like maybe throw a tantrum until there is cable?

Monday we will have a better idea as to what is wrong and how to fix it and whether I will need to hop on the next plane to take care of her until she is back on her feet. I think she has worked up to an expectation of another bypass to replace the 10 year old graft and the stents of last month, and that will mean a month of no driving and taking iteasy, then a gradual return to the real world and a more normal level of activity. I am very worried though. I love my mommy. I NEED my mommy. I am not done with her yet. And she is sick and I am helpless and she is at the mercy of the medical gods and she is scared too. She puts on a brave face, but I can hear it in her voice. A tone of worry that is so rare.

We almost expect our parents to be immortal. Growing up, they're like these huge omnipotent superheroes. They see all, hear all, know all and they are made of marble and steel and diamonds and nothing can break them and wear them down except for the artfully executed boo-boo lip and the occasional crocodile tear. I see - saw my mother like that...'cause she was too tough to be taken down. Now I don't know anything except that I don't like this one bit.

Clarification

2005-03-03T09:17:00.000-05:00

The previous post was not a reference to Majandra's album. It's actually rather interesting. A bit disturbing, but interesting. Then's some big pipes for such a little lady.

The sicks

2005-03-03T09:16:00.000-05:00

We've all been there, and it sucks.

Pride

2005-03-01T16:48:00.000-05:00

What ever happened to it? Used to be that a person would take pride in the job he (or she) did. Worked hard, did the best they could. But now, now it seems like no one gives a rat's furry a@@. These days, the pool guy comes, wipes one leaf out of the muck one might call a swimming pool, and say, okay, job is done, give me three hundred bucks. Or a roofer who fixes your roof, and swears the water pouring in whne it rains isn't his fault, or my personal favorite, the dentist who fills a tooth only to have it fall out the next day but still bills you for the visit and repair. It's everywhere, and for those honest few left out there, sorry, but you just done't brown-nose as well as the slackers, so you're being downsized.

So in a world like this how do you teach a kid that while everyone else is going to put in a half a@@ed job, and in fact, you expect it, they had better not or no TiVo? NO wonder our kids hate us these days.

Flip

2005-02-24T13:52:00.001-05:00

Now, on the flip side, The Fool can be a representation of Dionysys who just HAPPENS to be among other things, the Greek god of wine. So I suppose all is not lost...yet.

Tarot

2005-02-24T13:52:00.000-05:00

"Brandy, the card that represents the current state of your life is The Fool."

Gee.

Thanks.

Nuther Question

2005-02-16T10:17:00.000-05:00

Every wonder if we as a society would be better off if we had never advanced beyond the age of banging on a stone tablet to make pictographs? Maybe some papyrus here and there.

Such great empires have existed and we are only now beginning to learn how much we have lost along the path to "civilization". And how damned egotistical can we be to believe that we are at the peak of what humans beings an be right now...that they, we have never been greater than we are today? Peoples that spanned a millenia. In our little world as we know it we are nothing but babies. Who the hell are we to judge? How much knowledge have we lost in war and in fear and in plain ignorance?

Singie

2005-02-14T10:44:00.000-05:00

While Carmina Burana is interesting, I find myself craving something a bit more FUN. So to the other end of the spectrum, comptitive ladies barbershop...me in sequins. Somehow I am so not seeing that, but time will tell.

Stupid rule

2005-02-07T11:58:00.000-05:00

As read to me by my dear, sweet, adorable...anything else ma?...mother, in the state of Colorado, a loose cat is required to have a taillight.

Not Fair

2005-02-07T11:51:00.000-05:00

This is so not fair...if this kid was in Florida, he would have been arrested and charged with grand theft and driving without a license to be held pending 1,000,000 bail for being a flight risk.

Shoveling

2005-01-20T15:29:00.000-05:00

What a waste of good airtime. No one dropped dead. Nothing blew up...well, I guess it's not all over yet. It's just so hard to get excited over the Honorable Monkey Boy shoveling more crap and dumping it over the head of the American citizens...

true

2005-01-17T11:18:00.000-05:00

I do believe in fairies!!!!!!!

Rage

2005-01-14T13:32:00.000-05:00

Having a moment.
One of those moments when you want to scream, but you can't catch your breath and you would hit something, smash it, if you only had control of your muscles but nothing seems to work quite right. A moment when you wonder whether you're angry at someone because they are incompetent asswipes or if your really just blowing an honest mistake out of proportion.

Progress update 1

2005-01-13T16:41:00.000-05:00

The first bookshelf will be ready to assemble and move tomorrow, at which point the second will be disassembled and painting begun.

I can resume work on the bedroom stuff as soon as I have a fan to put in the window that will blow all the fumes from the chemical stripper out the window so I don't asphyxiate. (While the auto-erotic verson might at least make for interesting cocktail party gossip, being found in a puddle of my own urine in sweatpants, a sports bra and my boot camp pt shirt doesn't extcite me one bit)

Rules

2005-01-13T16:30:00.000-05:00

I have come to a decision.

Sam abhorrs disarray...which is funny...especially to anyone who knows him well.

Anyway, as a chick, I tend to multitask. Men pretend they understand but they don't entirely get it because multitasking isn't just about doing your work while thinking about sex. Since we have moved into the new place, I have been working on several mid-sized projects like painting the kitchen red and recaulking all the seals and touching up all the moulding in the house and painting all the closets, refinishing the bedroom furniture, painting the bookshelves, and so on. They are all multi-day jobs. And all of them take time to set, dry whatever. Obviously I am not going to take down all the moulding, and I can not very well paint the kitchen anywhere other than the kitchen, so those ongoing projects kind of have to be out here in the open, not complete yet but creeping towards being such, and Sam, you will just haveto learn to deal with that. So I have made a rule. Sam of course has free reign of he house with the following exception: My office. That is where all teh movable projects are worked on, and can stay until they are done. They don't have to be completed in one day. I don't have to put everything away each time I leave the room. It is my personal space and Sam, you may not obsess over it. (Unless you suspect that I am building a bomb or something late at night in which case you can go in and look at it, but I wouldn't recommend touching anything, particularly that big red button...but be honest, if I were would you really want to know? )

Uh huh.

Anyway. Point is thus:

I will post my progress on different projects here, so that I have somthing to post at all given the fact that I have absolutely no idea at all what else to yammer about.

naughty

2005-01-13T16:11:00.000-05:00

I have been bad, I have not been posting, and I said I would. Spanking please.

Along the same lines, I have been realtively sober. Something's gotta change.

Oi

2005-01-03T14:56:00.000-05:00

Where's the cheap fruity wine when you need some?

Echos

2005-01-02T01:02:00.000-05:00

And the new house echos.

The Big Oh-Five

2005-01-01T23:53:00.000-05:00

It has come. The world did not come to a crashing end.

That is a good thing.

We spent it at the new place, and I watched fireworks from 5 directions over the golf course.

Cool.

Wish I was drunk, though.

There must be more than one.

2004-12-30T01:41:00.000-05:00

FISHALUMP.

Drinkie

2004-12-30T01:34:00.000-05:00

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

2004-12-26T23:10:00.000-05:00

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

2004-12-24T01:43:00.000-05:00

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:

2004-12-21T16:08:00.000-05:00

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

Question:

2004-12-21T14:42:00.000-05:00

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!

2004-12-21T09:51:00.000-05:00

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!

2004-12-20T20:43:00.000-05:00

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

2004-12-19T21:38:00.000-05:00

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.

2004-12-19T21:24:00.000-05:00

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.