silver and gold (to Rae and to Melissa)

So I went to the Byrd Cage and was found by Lisa and Melissa, who I know through my affiliation with the animal hospital.  Earlier today, Rae had told me, "you never know who you might find" (when you go out.)

This time it was Lisa who pointed me out to Melissa who came stalking after me in her slinky black dress.

They asked me to sit with them and I was a happy camper.  They are both sweethearts, and Melissa asked me about all kinds of things that I didn't realize she knew about me.

Now I don't know if that's because Cristy talks about me or because Melissa asks, or because this thing called "office gossip" exists.  Whatever it was, it made me wish I knew more about them to follow up and interrogate them, too.  Luckily, Melissa was free with relevant info., like: they're moving :o(  and they still intend to reproduce :o) and it's their one year anniversary!  99 more, girls! 

And Melissa, who works with a different vet now, was trying to get me to agree to take a kitten.  Yeah... that's how it starts.... (If you've been following me for a little bit, you know what I'm talking about.)

It's so good to be around people who are happy, like Lisa and Melissa, and Cristy and Derek.  Their happiness makes me happy. 

When I was a brownie scout, we used to sing a song that went: "Make new friends, and keep the old, one is silver and the other gold."  Words to live by.  Good advice.

Melissa even observed that I like women with some meat to them.  She's right.  All I ever really noticed about her (aside from her cuteness) was that she wasn't straight anymore!  LOL  I feel justified now for having to catch my breath when I first saw her....

Pleasant ending to the day.

Oi.

I am still here at home, having not accomplished anything except lunch.  I have laundry waiting to spin so I can hang it.  I am the crown princess of procrastination.  Oh wait... I did bathe, and even shave.  Now I am butt nekkid... starkers.  Just too lazy to dress while time slips by my door.  Geez, it's almost four p.m!  But my first Saturday off in three years (with the exception of the hurricanes)... I hardly know what to do with myself, anyway.  I might go out tonight (Alone, if I have to) just for the novelty of it.

I should clean and I should do some shopping AND write and send a check to my landlord.  I should finish that load of laundry (by letting it spin then hanging it out.)  I should go to Dad's, too.  I promised my step-sis I'd help her shop for something she wants.  She is due back from college... yesterday?  My bad.

And I should be working on finding a new job! I've had offers from friends, but I need something better than I've been doing.  No, the library is very good work but the library system has treated me very unfairly.  I'm a good, loyal, steadfastly dependable, honest worker.  I go out of my way to do things not assigned to me, but it means nothing. 

The interim manager has a narrow view of things and shares it as gospel.  My career there has ground to a halt because of it.  I am not stagnant water.  Bye, library... ASAP!

Gifted with not being good enough for an interview for a permament position after THREE YEARS of service...  it isn't likely they'll renew my contract, I'm thinking.

Bad people!

Someone I nearly dated said I was good enough to get published.  I couldn't talk her into becoming my agent, though.  We seem to have fallen apart since. 

That's life, no?

three heavy metal pieces

"I think we're going to do it, and I think that we must pay what needs to be paid." -- John F. Kennedy

Last night I was at Cristy's, the usual Friday gang... and I was unaware there was going to be a space shuttle launch.  Suddenly Cristy told us to look to the north at an orange blaze of light in the sky. "The Shuttle" they said. 

Part of me wanted to turn away.  I don't want to rubberneck at accidents, and I remember the heartbreak of two other shuttles. But the blaze continued until it became a speck, then the speck became three specks as the fuel tanks fell away and flew on and on until there was an aura of light around the speck.  "Jesus Christ!,"  I said out loud as I watched the light become two again. 

I was upset and went to my car to turn on the radio and try to find some news.  Then I remembered that there are three parts... two fuel tanks and the solid rocket booster.  I was relieved.  I was also disappointed that the launch wasn't on the radio, or at least the follow-through after the launch.

I got to see the first shuttle go up from up in Cocoa... or maybe it was Rockledge or Titusville, but anyway, it was a  most special day.  We were with friends who drove us to a beach across from the launchsite.  The shiny new shuttle blasted up and angled out into space as people on the beach cheered and cried.  I remember one man echoing all our thoughts, "Go, baby, go! Go, baby, go!"

The next shuttle memory I have is a several years later when I walked out into the common room of my college dorm and saw that everyone was staring silently at the TV and no one was talking.  "What's going on?"  One of the guys wordlessly pointed to the TV and I walked into the room and and turned to the TV. 

The shuttle had exploded.  I suddenly knew what the breaking of a million hearts felt like. 

I lived in Cocoa when I was a kid.  My Dad knew every astronaut who passed through the Cape and most of the men in ground control, including the man whose job was to blow things up that went astray.

We were elsewhere when the shuttle program started but it was the greatest thing we could imagine.  So much wonderful science and innovation has come from the work of getting man into space.   From simple things like the pressurized pen to discoveries that have lead to advances in medicine.  

I remember a demonstration of the shuttle tiles at Cape Kennedy.  The man heated the tile to blazing orange-yellow in a darkened room and then... dropped it into his bare hand.  "Awesome" is an over-used word, but so much about space science is awe-inspiring.

Now, after a second shuttle fell apart in the sky... I can hardly stand to watch.   Hope flies with the little bird, and falls with it, too.

The Space program is about our innate and vain drive to survive on, or off of, a finite planet.  So far, this planet is all we have and we are using it up.  John F. Kennedy knew that.  It was about more than just beating the Russians.  And it wasn't that long after discovering that we could survive a flight across the ocean....

"We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard...." - JFK

http://vesuvius.jsc.nasa.gov/er/seh/ricetalk.htm

 

Pictures 1 and 2 from the National Archives, picture 3 from clipart.com.

 

 

 

 

(sigh)

Here I lay

in despair

tried to blog

but nothing's there

Let's get us a conflagration!

And in the great state of Alabama, they are clearing school libraries of books by gay authors or with gay characters.

Book burning is next.  Then whoever they don't like, to camps.

I don't have to tell you that many great authors are, or were, homosexual or bisexual.  Next let's take the Mona Lisa out and burn it.  Well, Michelangelo was gay, after all.

You may not want your child exposed to ideas that you disapprove of.  There's nothing wrong with trying to protect them, however the real world will get them, sooner or later, and the better acquainted with reality they are, the better off they will be.

Speaking as a homosexual, I have to say that I did not choose to be gay.  It was a feeling that was inside of me from an early age.  I knew I was different but as a sheltered child, I had no idea what was "wrong."

My parents were God-fearing Christians with sincere values of faith and patriotism.  My mother served her community and country in many ways and my father served for 20 years in the U.S. Army.

My mother was a Southern Baptist.  My father is an Episcopalian.  They didn't do anything to make me gay.  No one ever molested me.

I wanted to like boys when I was a kid.  But even more so, I wanted to be like a boy because boys got the girls.  I thought this was just tom-boyishness.  I envisioned life as a wife and mother, but inside me...  something else was calling to me.

And now so many of the women I meet are women who were married, who actually have children, who came out late in life because they tried to be what they were not.

The people who have instituted censorship (still un-Constitutional last I heard) have a deeper problem.  What are they afraid of?

I never read anything that made me gay.  But I did read things that helped me realize I was gay.  And no one I know of has ever become gay because they read "Walden" or "The Selfish Giant."

I didn't become heterosexual from reading the Bible or "McGuffey's Reader" or "The Old Man and the Sea," either.

As a matter of fact, reading "Intercourse" by Andrea Dworkin gave me more sympathy for men than I had ever known... far from turning me against them!

I am sure that the people who are doing this think they are doing what is right and necessary, but it isn't going to change anything.  If their children are gay, they're gay.  If they're straight, they're straight.  What they read won't change the fact of their orientation.

What's bad is that this is the behavior that leads to more destruction.  It's not right to deny knowledge.  And truthfully, when you ban books (aka thought), or protest movies, you only draw more attention to them.

It is wrong to stand silently by and let these things happen.  We are guilty through the complicity of our silence if we do nothing.   It's an easy step from loathing gays to hating people with freckles or people with dark skin or people who are poor....

Don't you wonder what it is the anti-gay agenda is really about?  What are they afraid of, really?

2506

Open Season

Welcome to Florida!  Feeling intimidated?  Go ahead... shoot!

Y'all come on down now!  We're back to the days of the wild west, except in the east.

The Governor of Florida has made it legal for you to shoot someone if you feel threatened.

(You did know he is the President's brother, didn't you?)

Before now it was only legal to kill someone inside your home.  Now you can shoot your neighbor in his backyard.

"Well, golly, he aimed his garden hose over here.  It was clearly a threat!"

Folks are calling this the "Stand Your Ground" Law.  It means you don't have to try to escape... you can just kill without thinking twice.

The murder rate is about to rise.

 

Go north, old dyke

Port St. Lucie

I know that other goils and bois flock to West Palm Beach and Lake Worth, and Ft. Lauderdale and Miami to have their gay old tymes... but I have my drag queen, Kelli Randell, at the Byrd Cage in Port St. Lucie, Fla.  (The "y" in Bird is a "lambda.")

www.kellirandell.com  His website is a little lame but what do you want from a girl?

Okay, he isn't the best lip-syncher, but he gets pretty wild with his costumes.  We bonded a little years ago when I bought him some flowers and told him what I thought of him. (I don't think I've ever talked to him since.) He actually does a lot for charity and this alone is enough to endear me.

Drag shows give me a reason to go out when I am alone.  Seriously, after you've seen a few men in dresses, it gets old.  But it's fun to hand them money and get a smooch or a hug.

And when they leave a trail of bills behind, those are called "drag droppings."

I wish I was masculine.  I would love to give the drag kind thing a shot.  But my hips are the wide, child-bearing kind....  I envy the queens for their narrows hips!

And Kelli has lost quite a bit of weight since this photo was taken.  He's looking svelte.

He has a routine that straight people love.  Lip-synching to "All by Myself" he whips out a fake wang and doggedly pursues... happiness.  I never will forget how much it made my friend "The Bird" laugh when she saw it. (She is the STRAIGHTEST woman I know.)

What is so appealing about a man all gussied up?

My grandmother always said that men were prettier than women. She may have been right.

Some of them sure seem to enjoy a dress much more than I do!

 

garbage to the curb

Alright, let me rest of little laurels, having decorated the corner of the driveway with many plastic garbage bags.

And my sister will be ecstatic that I finally found some baubles that she has been whining about since Dad married my step-mom.  My step-mom had a silk suit made for me in St. Augustine and had my hair done by an honest-to-god gay hairdresser.  My sister gave me this costume choker and clip-on pearl earrings to sport, because they have a bizarre desire to make me look feminine.  Yeah, like Milton Berle....

Anyway, she finally, after 6 years, has shut up about it and now...  I am delaying telling her.   I should call her up so she can swoon and fuss or whatever the hell she'll do. (I'm talking about my lying, kooky, product-of-the-same-womb sister, not my younger, pretty, well-to-do and smart sister-by-marriage.)

Hell, she might fly down here (in her car) to snatch them up.  That's what she did when Mom died.  Cleaned out the jewelry drawers.  She was a wreck.  A mess.  A freak.

Me, I was just numb.

She is into all kinds of mischief and I never know if she is telling the truth.  She looks up relatives from Mom's side of the family.  I don't trust her motives.  She used to by-pass this whole county to go see a woman she was close to in high school and not stop in on her way back, either.

She avoided us, though she claimed love and brought cheap, silly gifts at Christmas.  She still doesn't know how to pick them.  Salad spinner, anyone?

I think she foisted off crap she bought and then had to get rid of because her husband raised his eyebrows....

And they've been married 25 years.  God bless 'em.  Especially him.

There was much tumult when she took up with him, lots of dirt, but I guess she knew what she was doing.

so C says...

My dear friend was IMing me this morning and she said that she sees me changing.  I have to wonder if that is so or if her perception of me is changing because she is learning more about me through this journal and because I tend to lean on her for support.

I'm pretty quiet most of the time.  You won't know all about me in a day or a fortnight, but I'm not hiding anything.  I just don't talk a lot.

 

2427

"your surroundings are a reflection of your mind"

HELP!

matchmaker, matchmaker....

Dolly Gallagher Levi I might just be.  And so good I don't even know it.

I met two women online.  I met one accidentally after PrideFest.  The other I asked for chicken wings at a local restaurant/bar.  Then I caught them both on IM and brought them into the same room so we could all talk.  POOF!  Flames.

I had envisioned finding new friends, getting them all together and then letting things go from there.  I forget that other people have their own ideas... don't wanna wait....

So we won't be going out with a herd of our  friends... I hope they invite me to the commitment ceremony.

 

Catlady, catlady...

get rid of your cats

go brush your hair

then take a bath....

 

You know, (sigh) I look at my future... but the one cat I live with now likes to lick me... and I hate that.  Maybe I should just have a dog instead...  Great... then I'll be one of those ladies who freaks about her stupid tiny dog, overfeeds it, carries it around in a bag....

I saw a dog in our kennel last night that's litter-trained.  All the other dogs were making fun of her (or him.)  That's actually pretty cool, though.  Very convenient if you are away for long hours.  Still... unless you are bed-ridden or severely crippled, that's also very lazy!  Have dog, expect exercise.

 

 

No shush

They have changed the way we do business in the library.  We are not supposed to ask people to speak more quietly, to take their cell phone conversations outside or to leave their drink outside the library.

Yep.  There's more.  They're thinking of giving out coffee in the library.

If Nancy Pearl, the model for the shushing librarian action figure was dead, she'd be spinning in her grave.

I like the main library in Fort Pierce.  There was, the last time I was there, a sign right on the door banning cell phones.

Oh... and we aren't to say anything to children behaving badly if their parents are anywhere in the building.  Climbing the alarm gates, running in circles around teetery oldsters, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Ironically, I have had mothers ask me to tell their kids to behave. 

What's next?

Hopefully, I will be working somewhere else and won't be privy to that information.

 

I wish...

I wish I was funny in a stand-up comedy kind of way. I make my friends laugh, but it's due to stray, unexpected comments, not to a string of witticisms.

And my family often is oblivious to the things that make my friends laugh. 

I would have to collect a lot of oddball thoughts, string them together, test them before my family (a tougher audience) and weed before I ever thought about standing on stage.

Or... I could watch the news make a list of topics and address each one.

I wish I had the mind of Gabriel Iglesias and the timing of Ellen Degeneres. And do you remember that subliminal woman comedian?  I wish I could remember her name, she was a rip.

I want the warmth of Red Skelton, the smoothness of Marcel Marceau, the slapstick of Lucille Ball, the grace of Judy Garland, the presence of Danny Kaye, the speed of Robin Williams, the observances of George Carlin, the sass of Sophie Tucker, the baudiness of Margaret Cho... and I would like it all to LAST.

I know someone who's hysterical.  One of C's best friends, *L*.  When I took M to the Friday night get-together at C's she practically fell in love with *L* because she kept everyone laughing.  When she makes us laugh, it's not just a quick brain chuckle like I produce, but one of those full-body blast laughs.  She's a riot. 

I'd settle for being her because I love comedians who make you laugh and laugh and laugh.

computer exercise

Ready?  Okay.

Put your laptop computer on your knees and lie flat on your back.

Now wait for an IM.

Now respond to that IM by raising your back slightly while keep it straight,  tightening your abs, keeping your head parallel to the ground and typing your answer.

Wait for the response.

Now repeat.

There you go.  Laptop ab crunches.

moving water, live animals

So I am watching the pretty boring "Open Water."

It reminds me of the survival course I took in college.  I remember my fuzzy professor saying that in adventure recreation the most dangerous elements were moving water and live animals.  You're actually safer clinging to a mountainside or high up on a ropes course, because people take more responsibility for themselves there, he said.

Well, the people in this movie have found themselves in a survival situation and so far, they are doing the right things... except she drank some of the sea water. Stung by jellyfish and nauseated from motion and saltwater, she's not doing too well.  And they should have lashed themselves together because staying together is key. 

Sometimes

... aawww, forgot what I was gonna say.  All I can say is "skip this movie!"

Gotta watch a comedy now to try to wash this away.  Blehhh!

Connecticut

Today the state of Connecticut approved civil unions for same-sex couples.  And just a day after the election of a new pope.  What if he excommunicates every Catholic in the state?  Ok, that makes three states where people have, in some way, legally recognized the humanity of homosexual people.

It's progress, but it's not equality.

Five bucks is five bucks

This morning, I took out the garbage and went back inside to finish getting ready for work.  A few hours later, when I stepped outside to leave, I noticed what looked like a dollar bill on the ground.  I picked it up and saw it was a section of a one dollar bill.  I looked around some more and found a piece of a five dollar bill.  Then I found the rest of the dirty, mangled, torn five.

I picked it up and put it in my pocket.  At lunchtime, I went to the bank.  As long as you have the serial numbers on both sides, they'll replace it... unless they are bad at customer service.  So I made five dollars in just about the easiest way possible.

You can believe I scanned the ground to see if there was a bag of money drifting across the ground.  No such luck.

I have no idea where the money could have come from.  I don't tear money up.  I'm too poor for that.  And the thing is that it was very close to my front door, which is set back from the road.

How did it get there?  I don't know.  It wasn't windy, per se.  It could have come from some bizarre garbage truck incident.  The recycling truck had come through while I was inside, but not the garbage truck.

I mowed the lawn Sunday.  If that was the cause I would have seen the money before today.

I really have no good explanation of how it got in my yard. I just wish that Abraham Lincoln had brought some of his friends along!

 

throw your heart to the good

If you've been hurt, reconcentrate your energies on something that doesn't hurt.

I received a bad blow from the place where I have devoted myself for three years.  I decided that I would distract myself from the resentment by focusing on some part of the job that doesn't hurt.

What doesn't hurt?  Customer service, the thing they hired me to do and keep renewing my contract for.  The thing I am good at.  The thing they have no real clue about.

So what I'm saying is that if you've been hurt, throw your heart into something that doesn't hurt.  Ignore the blind incompetence of the bosses.  Distract yourself away from injustice and do the right thing, serve in some other aspect.

Non lasci i bastardi ridurlo.

If you stop, they win.

This time I'm not talking about reversi.  This time I'm talking about major bad people.

I'm talking about the World Trade Center and other things.

I was working at a newspaper when the news came.  There were TVs around and we watched like everyone, stunned, helpless.

Then later there was something about postponing or cancelling sporting events and other things.

That was it.  We have to keep going, when our hearts are breaking, when are backs are breaking, when our collective soul is very low.  That's when they win, if we give up, if we slow down, if we relent or give an inch.

Winston Churchill said it: "I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our Island home, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone." 

Never give up the good fight.  Never surrender, not on the terms of brutal cowards.

Another good one

"The Ref"

Judy Davis, Kevin Spacey, Christine Baranski, Glynis Johns! (Wow -- Jane and Michael's suffragette mom is still kicking.)  Denis Leary is actually pretty likeable at last. (personal opinion)

This show has GREAT actors.  Fun plot.  Escapist but moving quick enough to hold my interest.

Judy Davis.  I love her.  She is the atypical heroine.  (She's Australian.  Crikey!)

If you weren't getting a coupla' million bucks, would you wear candles on your head?

Should I?

I have been talking to an exceptional woman via IM.  She is graceful and serious and smart.  She is cautious and not too revealing.  She is open about her faith.  She is content in her work.  She gets my humor.  I'm thinking I'd be crazy not to take her to dinner, to a very nice restaurant I know of in Palm Beach County.  (Even if I'm not in her class, at least I'll have that.) 

Do I dare?

Sappho's fragments

Just maybe, Sappho was so critical of her own work that she only kept her very favorite bits for people to see.

 

It was poetic justice

She didn't leave a note

 

She who...

I have a friend who's very smart and beautiful.  I guess you might call her an artist because everything she does has perfection in it's seams.  She accomplishes nothing half-assed.  She's strong and sensitive.  She's in a position where she doesn't have to work so she chooses not to.  Instead, I suppose she is either some sort of adventuress or perhaps a stay-at-home wife to her wife. (They did get married.)  I  have no clue what she does all day.

I have a friend who's very smart and beautiful.  Much of her day is consumed with her five teenage children and husband.  She may also be teaching on some level.  She is a dancer in her heart.  She has learning difficulties but she made it through out of sheer stubborness.  She stays busy.  She has little choice.  No one would ever guess the things she's been through, or how much we loved each other, unrequittedly, long ago.

I have a friend who's very smart and beautiful.  She works very hard.  She loves to drive.  Recently becoming a co-mother has been very stressful.  Her wedding was a grand event, attended by many, complete with the photos.  She is task-oriented and the things she does would have just about killed me.  (I tend to think about the process more.)  She seems able to do anything.  And she always seems to enjoy her job, whatever it happens to be.

I have a friend who's very smart and beautiful.  She is well-off in the world because she and her husband make a decent living.  She is brassy and out-spoken.  Once her mind is made up you'd be  wise to just do as she says.  Sometimes she is so adamant about having her way that she doesn't listen to other people.  But things get done.  People complain about her behind her back, but people who really know her adore her. She is a different person away from work.  She's so much smarter than people realize, and so much softer and loving, too.

She who

sings the sonnets

of the air and

birds upon it

frequently

moves through me

like love

and joy

and fright

 

it gets better... haven't I been saying that?

So after that traumatic visit to the Saturn Service Department in the county seat, I have been checking around with independent mechanics.

The a/c clutch assembly can get new bearings for $120 ($50 parts, $70 labor).  The brakes do not need anything except for maybe a resurfacing of the rotors.  And the power steering does need to be made to stop leaking.

Power steering is a beautiful thing.  And brakes that work properly are more important than I know how to describe at the moment.

I often see people speeding and think I see the shadow of death in the passenger seat.  What's the matter with people?  They don't think enough about the people who would miss them if they died.  Or about the person who will have to wipe their drool if they crash their motorcycle while not helmeted.

What kind of biker-hater rescinded the helmet law?

Peace and freedom my Aunt Fanny!  Have you visited a trauma ward?  And them what dies be the lucky ones. 

But I digress....

Time, and talking to people who can help, has put a cushion of hope and relief around the blazing ball of concern over cash for car repair... and living in general.

Life is good.

Judi, Judi, Judi

Judi Heartsong, thank you for your kindnesses.  You are so graceful.  You say a lot with a minimum amount of fuss.

And by the way, it's my opinion that you need to find out why your instrument aches!!!!  (Girl's been whining about her arm.)  You ought to find out for sure.  I am not a medical professional, but I am a doctor's granddaughter, a nurses child and grandchild and have 12 years of home care under my belt.  Stop being a whuss and take care of you!  I have spoken!

In case my other readers haven't noticed the link in my to her journal, check out this live-out-loud human, being:

http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/

Papa Ratzi

So the Catholic world has an ultra-conservative and OLD pope.  If he were bald, he's look a lot like Jackie Coogan... you know, Uncle Fester from "The Addams Family." 

Sorry, I am digging to find anything funny about a world leader who has enough power to resume the Inquisition.  Progress is about to be set back a long, long way.

John Paul was a good old boy who understood that our Lord was tolerant of sinners and allowed them into his fold.

Benedict XVI has values that may even rightly be considered fascist.  (OK, now watch people respond to this journal and complain to AOL.)

And John Paul was a cute little pope, riding around in his little Pope-mobile.  He cared about the world, wasn't interested in dominating it. 

You can almost hear our president chuckling like Roscoe P. Coltrane (from "The Dukes of Hazzard"): Coo, coo, coo!  Laura, we got us a good ol' boy now!"  (Add your own statement here.)  "Bring me an altar boy!"

Oi vey.  Fun dayn moyl un Got's oyern.  Hab rakhmones!

 

 

2303

Powaqqatsi, or... just not an automaton

Such a day!

So one of the very big people in the library system came to our branch to talk to me this morning.  She came to explain why she didn't call me for an interview.  Based on the interim branch managers reviews, I wasn't good enough to sit at a desk and check out and shelve books all day.  Yet I do that, reference, research, book repair, help patrons on computers and am a resource to other staff members... but I'm not nifty-swifty enough to do just two things all day.

I've been there three years.  She said I am not properly trained.  What?

On the other hand, she did apologize for the harrassment I have received at the hands of a co-worker since I started.  At least they put a stop to that.

So what have I learned?  That maybe when the boss who treats you right leaves it is time to think about going too.

Meanwhile, I have been watching a film called "Powaqqatsi."  It's a Spielberg/Lucas thing.  It's footage of human activity and buildings set to music.  There's a lot of walking because most all of it is set in Asia and Europe.

If you can handle something without a plot or dialog, if you like moving art, slow-motion people-watching set to strange music, this is for you.

Tomorrow if I have the wherewithal, I will job hunt.  Gonna be fun explaining the situation to my Dad.  He's upset enough about my money problems which he can do little to help me with because of my step-mom's spendophilia.

Whatever.

Tonight, I wish there were arms to cuddle in.

Powaggatsi is a word from the Hopi language. Powaq = sorcerer, qatsi = life.  It means "life sorcerer," an entity that consumes the life forces of other beings in order to further its own life.

What irony.  The library sucked the life out of me....

37 hits

Today while I was visiting the folks, playing with their pets, motoring to Fort Pierce to the ancestral estate of my step-mother's family to pick grapefruit and was back mowing the lawn here, this journal was open 37 times.  Isn't that interesting?

Who are you?  Why were you here?  What did you think?  How did you get here?  Will you come back?  Were you here before?

Fort Pierce.  I never thought much of the place until I fell in love there.  Now when I'm there, I wish I had a grasp on happiness I felt back when.  I think good thoughts for the object of the lost affection.   It isn't much when you see it on the superficial level, but then you get to know parts of it that are wonderful.

Sunday, after IM, after reversi

Idea for a super-hero, based on women I know, and myself, whose penchant for gathering things comes from depression-era ancestors: The Accumulator.  Very messy because she has so much junk, but she has what you need when you need it, much to your surprise and bemusement.

Today I'm going to do some more of the cleaning of the Aegean Stable. Bit by bit I'm going to get rid of stuff so I can have room for people that they can be comfortable in... 'cause I'm thinking and weighing out... "Stuff."  "Woman."  "Stuff."  "Woman."  And woman is definitely winning.

The lighter I travel and the more room I have...the easier any future transition will be. See my thinking?

And I haven't met anyone who really minded a bed on the floor as long as the place was tidy.  And this is a great bed.  Fleece and flannel are the icing on this cake.

It's unconventional to talk so much about one's nesting place, but I spend so much time here.  Only one entry in this journal was composed somewhere else, but it was typed in here, on an air mattress topped with an egg crate cushion and covered by a big flannel sleeping bag.  I rarely want to be anywhere else.

But I need to get back to cleaning because I have a command appearance to give at Dad's house today.  Bless him.

2222

Saturday, after work

Life's too short to fold one's underpants, don't you think?

I know people whose underpants get ironed.  Do yours?

It's finally Saturday evening.  It's windy out.  The air is cool.

I'm watching Stage Beauty.  Claire Danes is looking good.  So is Billy Crudup.  (How do you pronounce his last name?) 

But I was interrupted by P2... an interruption that pleases me when I see that she has IMed when I stepped away to put in a load of laundry.  Information: she's going away but will be "out" tomorrow at a T Dance (Tea?).  Hmmm. I've never been before to the Sunday afternoon socializing opportunity.  Is this the time to go?  I'm wondering.

It's a frigid 69 degrees inside my home. There is only a thin plastic screen between me and the elements where the air conditioner sits in the window.  I have often thought about applying some of the instant foam insulation to the cracks. (I don't know that the landlord would mind... or even notice.) R called the stuff, which filled the spaces between the logs in her cabin, "t**t pus." 

I can't decide if sleep really is everything it feels like it will be or if I want to call L before it's her pajama time and see if she wants to go out.  Or maybe R2.  Hmmm.  Staying warm in bed grows more appealing every moment.  And I do like Claire Danes... and her non-Hollywood proboscis.  (And I do have more movies to watch in my library sack.)

You think Billy does Yoga?  He's got one of those bodies.... He's definitely a sinker.

Ya'll know what a sinker is?   Someone with such a small degree of body fat that they sink right to the bottom of the pool. 

Now we come to the end of the play in "Stage Beauty" -- for a second there, they had me fooled.  But he ends up kissing her?  Yeah, that's not gonna last. She's just made him bi- is all.

I can't believe Hollywood is still cranking out reversal flicks.  See, throughout film history, homosexuality was hinted at, veiled, made sly fun of.  One (or both) of the women had to be saved by a man.  To wit, "The Fox" based on D.H. Lawrence's story about two women ("March" and "Banfield") living together in a rural setting when a man comes on the scene, kills one by felling a tree on her and makes the other one a real woman... rescuing her from the evil.  Or "The Children's Hour."  Shirley McClaine is in love with Audrey Hepburn, so naturally, she has to hang herself when threats of exposure of her true nature will cause the two to close the school they run. 

Thank God for two out of three happy endings in "If These Walls Could Talk II." 

 

V and I used to joke about having a houseboy/chef to attend us so we could stay in bed.  We even named him.  (Sorry, that will remain private.)   Right now, I 'd send him to the store.  My body is begging for more carbohydrates. But it's cold and it's windy and I don't want to spend money or even have to slip back into work clothes.  Besides, the cat is cuddled beside me... how dare I ask her to move?

I brought her a cool toy yesterday.  It is a rubber ball with a bunch of smaller balls pimpling it.  It bounces erratically and boings about around the floor as if animated.         Oooo, good toy!

Thursday, after work

I wanted to share gems from today.  I turned the 'puter on at lunch and IMed with my pal Mr. X in Chicago.  He actually gets my humor.  He joked that prison could be good, that for me it would mean a "wider dating pool." (Well, actually he must have not had Criminology in high school.  We learned that someone buys your ass with cigarettes....  Dating many people might not be an option.)

We also talked about women's perceptions of their bodies.  I said that mine wasn't all that great and he said, "You bare it, I'll share it."  (And he said he's not a nice guy....)[No, HONESTLY, I really am a lesbian.]{But I may have to sell myself to try to get out of debt.}

The piece de resistance for today, however, came from a catty library patron who told me:

"You want to see God laugh? 

 Make plans."

That's a gem if I ever heard one.

Carbohydrates

Comfort.

Yesterday morning was all about getting my car looked at.  I was depleted.  I got busy doing nothing much. 

I came home for lunch, opened the fridge and found a small container of Southern-style potato salad.  Ahhh, comfort food. 

Pretty much any food that is white is supposed to be bad for you. OK, Southern potato salad has eggs in it, so it's YELLOW!

So after ingesting all those allegedly evil carbohydrates, after I was back at work and the digesting really began, I started to feel better. I cheered up.

Could it be the answer to my problems is the eyeful tuber? (Or rather, just better nutrition?)

 

ponderings in the wee hours

 Virage65 [4:19 AM]:  Practically time for me to get up and you still have hours for sleeping, if you can.  Time is a funny thing.
Virage65 [4:23 AM]:  ... never really made much sense to me except as some way to get people together in the same place at the same time.
Virage65 [4:25 AM]:  When you look at the big picture of time, our lives are hardly a flash in it.
Virage65 [4:26 AM]:  There's all this reality outside of our ken.
Virage65 [4:28 AM]:  If an asteroid strikes a planetoid and leaves a crater and we know nothing of it, it still happened.
Virage65 [4:29 AM]:  The wonder of it makes you hope there is a living, observing, something out there, taking it all in.

devastation

I wrote an e-mail to my father at his work address because I don't want my step-mom to hear about my troubles.  My father wrote me back to tell me he was devastated and would try to do something to help although I wrote that I just needed his ear. (If you haven't been lucky enough to have good parents, what Dad said is what a good parent would say.)

Dad won't do anything.  He can't.  He isn't capable of it and I know it.  I don't fault him any more.  I look at the fathers of so many people and just thank God that I got one who was loyal, loving and kind.  So his promises have often been empty ones...  he's only human.

Grand Marshals

The Grand Marshals at the PrideFest Parade were an Episcopal Canon and his lover.  The sign said that they were celebrating 50 years together.  I just KEEP getting goosebumps from that!

Rob

Rob is a television weatherman here in South Florida.  He is the emcee at PrideFest, too.  Yes, he is gay, although sometimes he denies it.

He is a good-looking and very buff Italian man.  He's funny and sweet.  He seems to like the young, tall, fair-skinned boyish type. 

He was on stage this year in a flashy vest with no shirt whereas he has been decked out in suits and less casual attire in previous years.  This year he even lip-synched and did dance routines with the drag queens.  He even joked about how ridiculous weather reports are.

I talked about him with R2 and she said that when kids at PrideFest approached him and asked if he was gay, he looked away and said "No."

What was he thinking? 

Talking heads make plenty of money.  Rob looks very nice and is built like a god.  He is known throughout south Florida.  He emcees at PrideFest.  (Duh!)

Where do you think his head is at?

Paving it over

Crime writer Patricia Cornwell lost her readers interest after she came out of the closet, not because she is gay but because she started to write more about the lives of her characters than she did about the plot.

I see now that we like the surface of things. We don't want to delve to deep into revelation and pain.  We don't have the time for catharsis.  We need to keep going in a delusion that everything is all right when the truth is that the truth is too much to handle.  We'd prefer not to have to step in or even investigate the holes in the sidewalk.

We're American and everything needs to be beautiful and easy.  We don't want any hassles and we don't want to pay any fines.  We want what we want when we want it.  And we want it to float into our hands as we float on a cloud.

Shall I smooth over the holes in this journal?  In truth, I get depressed.  That's a part of the truth of my life. 

Maybe I need to veil it to some degree.

Today's Quote

If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to be a horrible warning.

-Catherine Aird

Beliefnet.com

Do go there

http://www.palmbeachimprov.com/

I like to go to this comedy club.  I suscribe to their Internet mailing list and they send special deal offers.  That's how I afford to take other people!  I don't go all the time.  It's 45 minutes away and has a two drink minimum, but if I was closer and had more free cash, I would go there quite often.  I wait until there's someone there I really want to see.  Gabriel Iglesias was the last comedian I went to see there and he was one of the best I've seen. The audience was almost a solid wall of laughter while he was on. He was travelling with an entourage of 3 or 4 other hispanic comedians and they were all good.  I also saw Judy Gold with L and I took Dad to see Paula Poundstone. He loves her. And there were others that were pretty funny but I don't recall all of their names. 

computer life recommendation

There's a little thing I like to do for my computer fairly often.  I clear out the cookies, the temporary Internet file and the history.  These things help my computer keep running right.

It's easy to do on AOL.  Click on "Settings."  Choose "Internet [Web] Options."  Click on "Delete Cookies" then click "OK."  Click on "Delete History," click on the box that asks if you want to delete all the offline files.

Now go to "Clear History" and click that, too.  Done.

I had been deleting the files and the cookies, but I neglected the history and my computer started acting funny.  The tech at AOL suggested I clear the history and now everything is flowing again.  The tech said that files in the history get corrupted and make things misbehave. (One bad apple....)

Hope that helps you.

can't sleep

Why not?  I'd like to.

I took my car to the shop today to get a replacement on that wide piece of trim between the windows (sorry, I forget the correct word that describes it.)  While I was there, they told me that I need all kinds of things that add up to $1,200 in repairs.  Fabulous. 

I don't make that much money in a month.  I owe $10,000 and I make $18,000 a year.  Je suis "fucked."  I don't have help from the folks or any assets to cash in. I am so screwed.  My only hope is to take the car to the independent mechanic who I literally live within a few hundred feet of and hope that he can sort it out and save me and my car.

When you experience depression, things like this can really get to you.  To make matters worse, after I left C's house she IMed to say I had an oil leak... a big one.  F***!

How the hell....  Some days you just don't know if anything is worth it.  What am I supposed to do?

I don't have much at all and now I am going to be reduced to even less and stranded in this little town with a bicycle.  Thank god I still have my bicycle.  I hate crossing the highway without benefit of something these people might be slightly afraid to hit.  I hate being sweaty and wind-blown when I arrive somewhere.  I hate the waste of time... I hate not being able to be self-sufficient. 

I am not the kind of person who would ever ...

it just occurred to me that I know a lawyer's wife.  Maybe I need to talk to him.  I don't want to do anything like declare bankruptcy and fuck up my chances of getting any clout at a bank ever again.  But if I'm going to ruin my life... I need to do it before the rules change.

There has to be another way. I always thought that jail might actually suit me somewhat.  I could probably handle being somebody's bitch... and having health care and three regular meals a day.

I don't know what to do. 

I am open to suggestions. 

2102

Thanks, PW

Crawford, Texas (not AP) - A tragic fire this morning destroyed the

personal library of President George W. Bush. 

The fire began in the presidential bathroom where both of

the books were kept. Both of his books have been lost. A presidential

spokesman said the president was devastated, as he had almost finished

coloring the second one.

Writing...

...is something I always liked to do because I enjoyed seeing words appear flowing out from ink into thoughts.

   A lot of people will tell you what you need to have and how to proceed.  As for me, I don't have the discipline to preset time and force things out.  Instead I make notes on things I think about when I can't write. Then, when I get back to where I can write, I sort through the notes to what I think has merit, meaning and relevance... and to what I will enjoy opining over. 

I write what I want to say.  If you can speak a complete thought and you know how to put a thought on paper you have everything you need.

I do edit myself because I don't want to cause unnecessary hurt.  I try to be careful and sensitive.  I also am as honest as I can be.  I suppose if I wanted to be all-out brutally honest, and not have to stop to consider tact, I would have to start a different blog under a different identity and not tell anyone about it.

The truth is that to write I need readers. I need to know that I have readers, that I'm not casting my thoughts out to the empty air.

The fear that stops people is that our thoughts are wrong, bad, not good enough and will be met with disapproval or worse.  The truth is that you are not a freak.  Everyone is the same inside.  You have the same wants, needs, hopes and fears as the person who you think is the least like you.

Writer's block is only a lack of material in your brain.  If you face a blank page and can't put anything on it, get your ass up and go learn something new somewhere.  Take a walk.  Go for a drive.  Have sex.  Do something else.  Take a shower.  Mow the lawn.  Get the blood into your brain.

There's only one way to do it.  Write it -- and then get it read.

So I'm reading...

...You Can Do It! The Merit Badge Handbook for Grown-Up Girls by Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas c. 2003 Herter Studio LLC  ISBN 0-8118-4635-0  $24.95

This is a cool book that encourages you in how do to all sorts of things from sewing to fire-walking.  I'm digging it.

Rather than relate the poignant story of the author or go into detail about what it says, I only wish to share a few quotes from within it's pages.

"All serious daring starts from within." -- Eudora Welty

"Get busy living or get busy dying." -- a line from the film "The Shawshank Redemption"

"The weakest of all weak things is a virtue which has not been tested in fire." -- Mark Twain

The author of the segment on firewalking, Heather Ash Amara, states, "Your fundamental belief dating from each childhood that to touch fire equals getting burned will be shattered.  This leads to a reexamination of virtually everything else we think is true or inevitable."

I think I don't need to walk on fire to test the validity of theories.  I have had homosexuality for that.  Still...  like sky-diving... I might try it sometime.  Maybe.  Especially if I don't have to pay.

By the way, the coals are 1200 degrees Fahrenheit.

The book also includes one of my favorite quotes from Maggie Kuhn, founder of the Gray Panthers: "Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes."

I have yet to finish the book.  I am sure that more gems lie within it's pages.  It did inspire the blog that I am about to write.

 

over-stimulation

There are too many things to write about tonight.  For starters, I really should protest more about being included in the shots Sunday night.  I was exhausted and felt half-alive this morning at work.  It made the whole day hard.  I drink water, take Tylenol and eat breakfast in the morning and hang-overs don't bother me, but the lingering dullness in my head and sinus trouble... they bother me. 

Then I have women on my mind.  New ones, older ones, lost ones... and even my mother.  Today I made out a library card for a woman born in 1917.  She looked great.  There's no telling how life is going to go.  My mother died in 1996 at the age of 67.  She was too young.  Her life could have gone differently.  You never can tell.  I have seen people in their late 80 and 90s still motoring around and independent and looking fab.  Older than my mother would be.  I take some comfort in the old quote, "The Lord thy God is a jealous God."  And I see an old couple that comes into the library.  The woman is in much the same state as my mother was.  You better believe I go out of my way to help them, and unlike most people, to talk to her, because she barely can..

Today a lady, probably in her forties, came into the library and claimed forgetfulness.  She said, "I have half-zheimers."  (Don't most all of us?)

Then there were many things to think about.

I often think about trying to contact V or her best friend P, to see how they're all doing.  It's hard to deprive yourself of knowledge of people you love.  I wish I had a choice.

I told C that V has said that she didn't like L.  C replied that she didn't like V. (Unspoken meaning from C, "V broke your heart J, you ought to let her way the hell go.")  Unfortunately my brain is not in charge of this.  There's no rhyme or reason to love.  Pathetic, aren't I?  What a fuckin' sap.

OK, then I was thinking about having to introduce my cat to someone's elses in a hypothetical living arrangement that will probably never transpire.  But I thought that what I know about it would be helpful to someone who is bringing a new animal into the home.  Here's what you do: Keep the new cat separate from the other pet for a period of two to three days and give extra attention to the other pet(s) who are already in the home.  This can be achieved by keeping the new pet in a kennel in the house so they can see and smell each other.  If you don't have a kennel (a glorified cage), set up the cat in another room with the dor closed.  Allow the animals to get accustomed to the presence of the other(s).  Then slowly introduce them.  Be ready to have to put the new critter back away from the other(s).  Allow the animals to check each other out and get used to the new life. 

Then I was thinking about the definition of "jaded."  (Cynical, fatigued by overwork or abuse.)  Yeah, I guess I am that somewhat.  Tired, frustrated, keep finding myself kicked in the guts.  I envy the happiness of other couples.  When do I find my Virginia or Theresa or Ali or Tish or Derek?  Do I ever?  All I can say is that I hope I never get too far gone that I can't take care of housepets.  Dogs and cats may be what gets me through to the jumping-off place.

And then, I keep mulling over what YK said about critiquing things.  In a way, I am doing that already in my writing.  I wonder.  I try not to put people down.  I should point out that if you don't actually see something in print from me, you should not assume what I think.  I might say something you take as disparaging but it does not mean that I have written the object of the comment off.  I try not to be negative, because even the worst of us have some good point.  It bothers me that we add more to each others thoughts with our own prejudices.

I wonder if what I say makes you think or is just opening the curtains onto my world for you.

It reminds me of something I learned from my Dad:  "There are three sides to every story; yours, mine and the facts."  That has been an important piece if wisdom that I have carried with me through my life.

This evening I went to another meeting of the community enhancement group that operates under the auspices of the health department.  This was a really good meeting.  We had people come from Wabasso (Waa-baw-so, accent on the baw) to tell us about what they achieved.  It was a big help.  I get discouraged because I am often so tired and do not have as much as I would like to have to give to this group, but then I go and progress is coming and I start to feel like maybe it's worth it to be persistent and consistent in spite of my weariness and lack of time.

OK, that's my report for tonight.

 

 

 

 

C who loves me

I had a nice day today.  I met with R2 (the woman I missed finding at PrideFest.)  She's pretty nice and I'm glad I finally met her.  I called my friend L over to the restaurant/bar and she got to meet her too.  That was a good thing.  The more of us we know the better off we are.

My friend C came along and that helped me out because although I flow in writing, in person I am quiet and seem timid.  I don't look people in the eyes nearly as much as I should.  It's too distracting.  L has been talking to me about that, having me look into her bright blue eyes... which isn't easy to do because they are very distracting.

So it was very nice to have two honest-to-God lesbians paying attention to me at the same instant... and kind of odd.  I'm not accustomed to two people on opposite sides of me looking at me at once.  You need chameleon eyes for that.

Then I parted from these two friends, went home to feed my cat then went over to Cs house for the Sunday night routine.

Right now, we are watching "Deadwood" and choosing something to do shots to.  Bodily injury was my suggestion.  Three of the prostitutes were murdered and one guy got punched.  G (A male newcomer to mention in this journal) poured us some sort of weak lemonade or limeade with Vodka in it.  Then he made more that had a stronger kick... that was just about the time the prostitutes started getting killed off. 

I like G.  I enjoy rubbing his derriere because I can get away with it.

Then we watched "Fat Actress."  It's so whacky and crazy.  Kirstie Alley is a bit of all right to be such a good sport about making fun of herself and all of her friends.

At some point, I went onto the porch where C and G were having a ciggy, and C was running her hands through my hair and I was already fading so I guess I fell asleep right there.  She woke me up so I'd get up and go into the spare room to sleep.

I'm not a drinker, really.  C was all too happy to tell L and R2 this evening that I was a cheap date.  (V used to call me a "pantywaist."  Alcohol goes straight to my head.  It doesn't take much.) So naturally when there's any away-from-home boozing to do, I get to be the designated driver.

Don't get me wrong.  C loves her husband D.  He is a sweetheart.  I noticed that after a few hours with three lesbians she was more cuddly than usual with him tonight. 

It reminds me of a seen in "Tipping the Velvet" when one of the women's brother walks in on the two of them in bed.  He just registers surprise and, looking askance, says what's on his mind and then leaves.  After he closes the door, the two women laugh and the heroine says "I believe your brother is the best kind of man." 

Yeah, that's D. 

G isn't so bad, either.  ;x

 

 

Inch by inch

Ok, so I turned off this computer and I got up and I gave the cat new litter and I picked up a bag's worth of garbage (much to the cat's bemusement/ire: Hey, is this carpet?  Why are you taking away the things I love to rustle through and hide behind?) I put a load of laundry in the washer.  Just the darks, I don't have much faith in the well water but I might do the rest. I don't have a dryer so I'm like the queen of lint.  Anyhow, it wasn't an excavation nor did I clean out one of the many plastic tubs that hold all kinds of artifacts from my past lives.  It's a start.  I figure little by little is the way to go.  At least for me.  At this rate...  maybe... by July....

a few gems from Beliefnet.com

  Today's Quote

The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.

-Carl Rogers

Beliefnet.com

Today's Quote

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.

-Dalai Lama

Today's Quote

Your most unhappy customers are your greatest source of learning.

-Bill Gates

Today's Quote

There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win.

-Elie Wiesel

Today's Quote

Laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

-Victor Borge

Today's Quote

If one is without kindness, how can one be called a human being?

-Sarada Devi

I see you

I have a chat buddy who I don't talk to anymore because she is in love.  I am happy when I see her on because I know she is getting communiques from her girlfriend.  I am glad that I helped her along the way and that she doesn't have much use for me anymore.  I think she sees me, too.  I think she knows I'm here if she does want to talk. I always say, having heard this bit of wisdom somewhere myself, that people are in your life for a season, a reason or a lifetime.

People are in your heart forever and pieces of them become some of the best, and occasionally the worst, parts of you. 

Sometimes it's subtle, like a vocal inflection.  Sometimes it's as radical as a haircut.

Who are these people?

So I'm playing Reversi and I land one corner and the opponent resigns.  Or I'm playing and it starts to seem like I'm dominating the board and they quit.  What's up with that?  You can't get better at something if you keep copping out.  In Reversi it isn't over until the winning piece is turned over.  You can think you're winning and then suddenly the board changes color. 

These people who give up so soon are really missing something.  I might be taking them to school.  Or I might be the one who gets schooled.  But if they quit, they'll never know what the true outcome would have been.

If it looks like you might fail, don't give in.  The only failure is quitting before it's time to.

Things to do on Sunday -- ideally/really

Blog until almost 10   NO, GO DO LAUNDRY!

Sleep some more get your lazy arse up and clean for two hours

Have breakfast stop at noon to eat and bathe

Sleep some more go to the play in which your friend is playing a nun

Meet a new friend come home when it's done until about 5 when you go to meet a chat buddy you somehow missed meeting for the first time at PrideFest

Go to C's Go to C's this evening

quote

"Life is hours of boredom punctuated by moments of terror." I am not sure how I came by this statement but I have used it often. I believe I adaped it from something I heard somewhere years ago.  I just thought I'd toss it out to the e-universe.  Why not?

Loveliness

Last night a chat buddy buzzed in to tell me Good Night.  This morning her Good Morning was on of the first things I saw when I opened my eyes.  That's so sweet!  It makes me happy.

glories of small town living

This unincorporated village is peopled by folks of just about every description and we are visited by all kinds of exotic folks.  Your typical resident is most definitely from "away." He or she is over 50.  White, for the most part.  Yankee, almost guaranteed.  Well-to-do more often than not.  With kids, somewhere.

We are not far from a state park and a wildlife refuge.  To the east is the ocean.  To the west is Lake Okeechobee.  There is plenty of recreational opportunity if you are a water baby.

This little place supports two grocery stores, a harware store, two Chinese restaurants, a biker/sports bar/restaurant, a burger joint, several other restaurants including a barbeque joint, who knows how many golf courses, very expensive homes and not so expensive homes, three pizza joints, small shops, a tackle shop, a lawyer, a Hawaiian shirt store, a CVS pharmacy, two elementary schools, trailer parks, a Bible college, several restaurants, two liquor stores, a locksmith, an automotive store, a Wendy's, a Subway, a Tire Kingdom, four gas stations, real estate agencies, builders, several nice parks, two fire stations...  It sounds like a metropolis but if you were to drive through you might consider it to be just a waste stretch of highway that's just delaying your arrival at your destination somewhere else.  God knows that's how people drive through here. And it's ok with me that they just keep on going.  The heart of the town is less than a mile long in any direction.

This is the kind of town where someone like me practically poops her pants when she meets another homosexual.  Oh honey!  Thank God!  Instant bonding. I have two gay friends, Carlos and Lisa, that I hardly know and rarely hang out with, but I adore them.  They both live here. Wow! (I was able to introduce them to each other at Pridefest.) And I hear about others.  I know they must be here somewhere, but since we don't wear signs... what's a girl to do?

What are the best things about small towning it?  Well... what immediately pops into my head is food.  (I'm hungry.)  Chicken wings at the "biker bar." Sweet potato salad and ham sandwich with champagne mustard at the bakery/restaurant.  Yeah.

And the opportunity to get to know the people here is a good thing, too.  As a library employee, I have a very public face and when people see me out somewhere else they treat me like a rock star. (My eyes are rolling.)  I've been hit on by lonely old men and had women try to fix me up with their nephews.  I've met millionaires and street people, erudite people and the truly clueless.   Diversity is a good thing.

And I am officially too tired to expound on this thought anymore.  Good night/morning.

 

 

 

 

criticism

My friend YK suggested today that I write critiques for Amazon as a way of finding entry into the world of paid writers.  Write movie reviews, she suggested.  I asked her... but who the heck am I?  She responded, oh, you can make your way to being somebody. (I don't really want to be "somebody,"  but I would lke to be able to afford a less crude lifestyle.)

The conversation was spawned because we often discuss movies in the backroom at the library.  We all place holds on movies that the library adds to the collection.  Patrons know I have a vast repertoire of movie knowledge and seek me out when they want comedy, musicals....

I cannot, however, see reviewing movies.  I so often disagree with reviewers.  Sometimes you'd think they are dissing a thing just to make you want it more.

I have found that I am a lot happier when I start watching a movie with no expectations.  That way, even if it's a stinker, I'm not disappointed.  I also don't go to movies unless it is some sort of social occasion.  I can live without seeing the first run of things.  I don't have to be up on what everyone else is talking about.

I do occasionally cruise by the rental place, to see if I can find some gem on the sale rack.

Here's some movies I have gone out of my way to own:

Wrestling Ernest Hemingway (a real treat starring Richard Harris, Robert Duvall, Shirley Maclaine and Sandra Bullock)

Whale Rider

Son of Paleface

Fried Green Tomatoes (extended version)

The Quiet Man (arguably the best movie ever made)

High Noon (dum-da-da-dum-da-da-dum-da-da-da....)

The Princess Bride

The Sandlot (another really great movie)

Movies I would own if I had unlimited resources and storage space:

Unconditional Love (so quirky you can't help but love it)

The Secret of Roan Inish ("It's Jimmy!")

Movies I am guilty of also owning:

All three "Back to the Future" installments

Bound

Candleshoe (Disney flick and the first movie I ever wanted to see twice)

Boys Don't Cry

The North Avenue Irregulars (an even more obscure Disney flick than Candleshoe)

Gia

The Mummy and The Mummy Returns

The boxed set of "Bean" (-- Rowan Atkinson helped me through some harsh times)

Some Like It Hot (a movie you ought at see at least once)

Braveheart

Il Postino

Feds

The Witches

Andre

Life is Beautiful

If These Walls Could Talk II

Doc Hollywood

Tommy Boy

Amelie

So I Married an Axe Murderer

As you can see, I don't go for violence too much.  I love to laugh.  If I wanted car chases and shootings, betrayal and theft, I'd pay attention to the news.

And though I think Kevin Costner is the same in every movie, I confess to having enjoyed Robin Hood, Dances with Wolves, Field of Dreams and, yes... Waterworld.

I also enjoyed Meet Joe Black.  Ol' Brad is delightfully disarming in this one.  I love the scene where he's eating peanut butter off a spoon. 

Care to share your faves and bombs?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dreamer to Realist

People call me shy because, in spite of my honesty, I really am. It takes a certain amount of ego and chutzpah to air your life to the world at large.  I realized today that putting my photo in the journal may be the single most foolish thing I have ever done.  I did it because I could.  C took my picture so I could send them to a woman I adore and will probably never meet.  I decided to use them.  I am not proud of my looks,  I have that average American look -- the kind of person you don't look twice at when you pass each other in Wal-Mart.  This is not what I set out to talk about.

What I want to say is that woman I adore... well, she ran from communication.  I knew... I kept telling her that it wasn't real until we were in the same room together.  I wanted her to know she had an out.

She blew me off and removed her screen names. What's happening with her is so intense she feels she has to stop being the person her online friends have come to expect.  Is she running from me?  I hope not.  I do understand the things that are leading her to behave the way she is (namely, her love for the children she helped raise.)

That's okay.  I have no intention of competing with that and I really never did.

Even when I dated V I knew there was no coming between a Mama Bear and her cubs. (Too bad my father never learned that. His second marriage would be so much better if he'd just butt out.  Unless they agree to letting you co-parent, just shut the hell up.  Talk to their leader, not to the kids themselves.  And keep your opinions to yourself. I had to learn that the hard way.)

It occurred to me today that I was happy that I had kept my head and not gone completely ga-ga over this woman out in California.  Oh, I love her with an honest and sincere passion, but I know she isn't leaving California anymore than I am leaving Florida.  I don't think that means I have to stop loving.  When you find someone you can connect with....

I was a daydreamer up to last year.  Then I got my heart crushed (HELLO!  DUH! MY OWN FAULT!) and woke up.   This time around....  This time around I did not let my dreams carry me away.  I'm okay with this.  I hope she doesn't think less of herself because she shouldn't.  I hope that she doesn't cite herself for following her heart.

So... don't stay away... okay?

Just a superficial word...

Behold Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt.  Two outrageously gorgeous human beings. I loved Angelina from the moment I saw her.  I didn't really appreciate Brad until V. expressed her deep lust for the man.  Actually, he's a pretty good actor, too.  All I want to say is SO WHAT!  LEAVE 'EM ALONE! BUGGER OFF!  These people...  making money off gossip.  They're getting it on, they're not getting it on...  hell's bell, honey...  It's none of our business.  And Angelina just hasn't met me yet, so she can bide her time with whoever she wants.  Why not Brad?  And V., wherever you are, until he finds you... what's the harm, eh?

And I will...

Whack your kid's butt for you, gratis.(No charge.)

And then watch TV with her.

I'm also...

...the kind who will tease you. 

"I'm gonna get your tongue!"

(Notice how my friend Boomer is suddenly tight-lipped. He is the canine child of C; a.k.a relentlessly blinking cursor.)

I'm the kind of friend...

... who'll help you get the sleepies out of your eyes.

half-mast

The flags at our county offices have been lowered by presidential request.  Somebody said that it defies the separation of church and state, but you have to keep in mind that Vatican City is it's own country.  The pope is the head of that country. As long as we honor all other dead heads of state in that manner, it's kosher.  You know Geo. W. probably doesn't have the wit to think of that himself.  I'm sure there is some protocol advisor sending memos... attached to pre-written statements so all the prez has to do is sign.

one touch of the keyboard makes the whole world kin

Did ya' get here from a link in someone else's journal? Do you ever check out the links to other journals and their links to other journals?

I've visited the thoughts of Conservative Republicans, young adults, drama queens of every sex, artists, comedians, librarians, old men, pilots, actors, mothers, fathers, and even that of my best friend.

There are things I could have lived without knowing and things that made me roll my eyes (because I'm older and I've already been through it.)  There were things that made me laugh and things that upset me.  The beauty of it is that it's as close as I can ever come to my ultimate writer's fantasy of being a fly on the wall everywhere in the world.

It makes me wonder of we couldn't play the six degrees of journalees (journalers?)  Imagine it:  "Yeah, I know of artist Judi Heartsong.  I linked to her through NJLittleBear.  Two degrees."

You know what I want?  I want to read a Japanese blog, Israeli, Russian, Filipino, Saudi Arabian, American indian, Argentinian, Swedish.  The primary difference will probably be what they don't say about their government.  It's still legal here in America to say bad things about our politicians.  If I wanted to I could say something slanderous, like: J. Edgar Hoover was a cross-dresser.  (OK, that was true.  I'm no fool.  I wouldn't intentionally misuse the privilege of free speech by telling some facetious untruth.)

Ahhhh, freedom.  Use it while we got it.

Riddles for children -- 1949

What eats more grass, black or white sheep?

White, because there are more of them.

To what man do men always take off their hats?

The Barber

How do we know that bunnies gossip?

Because they are tail-bearers.

When is the worst weather for rats and mice?

When it's raining cats and dogs.

What is the best key to a good dinner?

Turkey.

Why was Adam's first day the longest?

Because there was no Eve.

What is the difference between a barber and a sculptor?

One curls up and dyes, the other makes faces and busts.

What is the best way to make a coat last?

By making the trousers and vest first.

What is it that a person can place in his right hand which cannot be placed in his left hand?

His left elbow.

Why can't the world come to an end?

Because it's round.

Where can happiness always be found?

In the dictionary.

If a man smashed a clock. would he be convicted of killing time?

Not if the clock struck first.

Which is the largest room in the world?

Room for improvement.

 

.

.

 

 

 

Ontario

I raced the sun

still shining on you

our world away

When I'm dust

I was going to write about what I'm doing today.  I was supposed to go to C's and let her be my Annie Liebowitz, but I was too beat to get up in time.  Actually I got up and ate and then crashed again.  I haven't been feeling to well.  I think I wore myself out Sunday.

And I'm downloading some security updates for my computer.

I was thinking about a diary I read as part of an assignment when I worked for The Jupiter Courier.  It was an woman settler who described the life, the bugs, how one had to travel for days to go anywhere, what small things were wondrous treats.... Life here was so very different then.

One hundred years from now, if our journals aren't obsoleted, someone may access them and be amused by our quaintness and by our speech patterns.  Computers may be so ordinary... cell phone?  Heck, everything might be in an earring or small pendant.  A chip in the thumb.  Who knows?

I really don't think that armageddon and the rapture are at hand.  And I am sure without any doubt that life will continue. I really am confident of human ingenuity.  I can only hope that Darwinism proves itself because we do seem to be getting dumber... but when you look back on history, we've always been ignorant of the consequences of our heartfelt follies.  Still we proceeded at ramming speed, heads down....

So for future generations, here is how I spent my days... (because I can only speak for myself):

Sunday: Sleep as much as possible.  Go to Dad's and observe conflict and discomfort, chat happily with step-mom about a myriad of topics, listen to step-brother's spoiled rant, run errands.

Monday:  Get up and get ready for work, including making breakfastm bathing and dressing.  Time required, about 45 minutes, sometimes less.

Tuesday: Usually, but not always my day off.  Stay in bed as long as possible. Do something, maybe.  Should go to father's to help step-mother and her helper clean the house.  Don't feel like it.  Maybe go see C.  Maybe not.  Give quality time to feline animal companion.  Compute, chat, cyber, blog.  Maybe watch a DVD or some of a DVD.  Wash car.  Mow lawn.  Clean house. (HAHAHAHAHA... yeah, right!)

Wednesday: Work from 11 to 8.

Thursday - Saturday: Work from 8:30 to 5:30.  Some Saturdays leave works here and go to animal hospital and work for another two hours.  Make $12.  Oooo.

Friday night, go to C's unless something more interesting is up or am in a cranky mood.  At Cristy's hang with her friends, eat, gab.

Sunday night, go to Cristy's to watch various series on cable, hang out with her friends, occupy couch space. Play with her dog.

Saturday night (or Friday night): wish I had the strength, the companionship and the money to hang out at gay bars up the road even though I do not drink much at all and am not a schmoozer.  It's just good to be around people where you can be who you are.

This is small insight.  It's too bad that the future cannot ask us questions directly.

1844

No dope

I promised a friend, P, that I would not smoke dope.  My history with the stuff is very small.  I did it in college just a few times. I did it once in  2003. I did it maybe two or three times last year with someone I was seeing. Then P asked us to stop and I said I would and I did.

The woman liked the things I would say when I was high.  I told her she was safe with me, that I would stay by her side.  I would have, too, had she allowed it.  I told her all the more how much I loved her.

And the stuff would swirl to the top of my head and hit the depression and make my head heavy.  "That's a bad trip," the woman said.

I have enough to deal with.  I need to stay responsible.  As a kid in college, it numbed my pain and numbed my hands.  As an adult, I want my hands ready for whatever comes.  I want to deal with my emotions head-on.  When my heart literally hurts,  I know I'm alive.

Smoking pot isn't cool; being real is.

the Pride report

I FINALLY dragged into PrideFest about 2 hours after the parade... which can be the best part of the whole thing.  So I wandered looking for a woman I hoped to run into, but who knows what happened to her.  We didn't find each other. Maybe she found other people and didn't need to find me anymore!.

Then I saw my friend Carlos sitting in front of the stage so I went and sat with him.  Then my other friend from here, L, showed up and sat with us or got up and gabbed with her buddies.  When the fest ended, L and I went to a bar and hung out, eyeballing the women while L gave me some pointers on flirting. 

She's buttery smooth.  Me, I'm wallflower sticky.  I have my good points but being the social butterfly is not one of them.  I meet people one at a time.  I invest time in them, see if I'm going to like them. Only after I get to know them do I start flirting.

L has a nice approach... flirt and ask the questions simultaneously.  Me...  I need some information.  I need to figure out if I might want to kiss you....  I don't just instantly want to kiss anybody... although there have been women that gave my poor heart a start at first sight. I think if there was a lot of magnetism I wouldn't waste much time though.  Certainly if you showed interest in me it might go all the quicker. There has only been one person I ever kissed on the first date... but I've already told that story.  There's something to be said for looking before you leap and then when you feel like leaping... looking a little more. 

 

 

 

 

the dream state/technology got ya' down?

Because other people have been talking about their actual dreams and because I am waiting for heaters to warm up my humble abode this morning, I thought I'd write about dreams, too.  (It's a little chilly for me so I will wait to get out of bed.  There's a quartz heater cranking in the bathroom so I can practice the ritual ablution.)

When I was a child, I had a recurring dream that I had a playhouse in my parents backyard and though it was on stilts, wolves were jumping up to it and trying to get me through the windows.

I don't know how I finally got rid of the dream.  Maybe I told myself that it was absurd when I got mature enough.

I also had the dream of flying... or trying to, anyway.  I think this is a very common dream, maybe even something ancestral.  Or it could be that we are lifted above everything as babies and that the memory of it lingers.

In my flying dream, I don't have wings.  Rather I do the Superman kind of flying... although I think I may have had wings at various times.

The thing about my flying dreams is that for the longest time they were frustrated.  I could hover but when I tried to lift myself over the trees, electric wires stung my shoulders and I sank back to the ground.

Years went by with this recurring dream.  Then one day I told myself that I had to take control of this dream.  I believe that taking control in your dreams is something you can learn to do.  You're there, you have the power to step in.  You are in control of what happens.  Alter the plot.  Have the heroine run outside to safety instead of up the freakin' stairs! (Gawd!  I hate that!  It means that the plot is so weak that the only way to continue is to trap the characaters further.  Lame, lame, lame!)

I looked up at the sky and noticed the actual electric wires.  I noticed that there were areas between these wires where the sky was clear and free.

The next time I dreamt of lifting off, I stood in this area and lifted straight up.  I made it over the trees  and lookd around... and then the flying didn't matter anymore.

The dream hasn't come back... although I would dearly love to take a leisure flight in a helicopter and fly over where I live, maybe over the entire state, with someone who knows it well.

And these days I stay up so late and sleep so hard that I don't remember what I dream about. I probably do dream, but my head is too full of sleep to notice.

A friend did share a dream with me and it was pretty interesting.  She actually sent her dream log because she didn't know how to isolate one entry.  I did honor her request not to look at her other entries.  Of course I was curious, but being violated is a terrible thing.  I was damned if I was going to do it to her, and the fact that she trusted me was so impressive that I felt it necesssary to be worthy of it.

I am so incredibly tired today.  I need to sleep more, eat more, compute less, work less.  I don't know if I have the energy to go to Lake Worth but I do want to go!