Diet

All day long I listened to a co-worker blathering on about leptin and her yo-yo diet problems and lack of self-control.

People, listen to me... the problem with dieting is the definition of the word "diet" and it's semantics.

Everything you eat and drink is your diet.

When people say they are going on a "diet" they mean a "weight reduction scheme" or a "muscle-amassing plan."  There ought to be another short word that means you are eating with the goal of changing yourself somehow.

You have to stop "going on a diet" and, instead, change the way you think about food.

It isn't any wonder that people "yo-yo."  You change your eating habits to change your body.  You need to change your mind.  You need to change how you think about your intake of liquids and solids.

Yeah, it might be hard at first, to deny yourself things you enjoy.  It may be uncomfortable.  But you will find that you can have the things you enjoy... maybe just not as much of them as you used to.

How many calories do you need a day to survive?  How many more do you need to provide the energy for the things you do each day?  How are you gonna get those calories (and necessary vitamins and minerals and proteins and carbohydrates?)  How are you going to stop yourself from eating more than you need?

Don't "go on a diet."   "Go on" a lifestyle of thinking differently about what you need.

 

 

Monday 2/20-something

It's still gray outside with a slight promise of blue.

Don't get me wrong.  I am very happy that it's raining.  Water is essential and we need it.  Nothing is more ominous than a season of brush fires... especially now that trees and debris are everywhere since the hurricanes.

Yesterday I almost bought some beautiful potted calla-lilies and would have delivered them to V's porch without a word, without any strings.  I stood looking at these exquisite flowers for quite a while and talked myself out of it.  When someone doesn't want you in their life, there's nothing to do for it.

Besides, I didn't know if they were poisonous to cats.

People wonder why I'm losing weight.  Could it be... unhappiness?

It's Cookie, my step-mother's longtime housekeeper, who told me she could tell when I wasn't happy because I was thinner.  You know what?  I'd rather be fattening up.

Have you given your housepets clean water in a clean container today?

Did you remember to floss?

 

PS: Today is the 28th. I see that Hilary Swank won another Oscar last night.  Good for her!  I hope she remembered to thank her cry-baby husband, out-of-work actor Chad Lowe.  

He should be thanking her.  Meeoowww.

I love Easter.

Easter is a great holiday, arguably the greatest holiday, at least in the Christian tradition.

I'm not jusy saying that because of the abundance of candy... though that certainly adds to the appeal.

Easter is lovely.  Spring.  The air is fresh.  The grass is usually green.  Warmth is more present.  Things planted in the fall start to bud.

Easter is important because it marks the fulfillment of God's covenant with man.

He sent his son to reconcile our accounts.  There is nothing more truly awesome than that.

The gift of chocolate to mankind pales in comparison but is still very much appreciated.  Way to go, God!

For the record, I do not believe that Christianity is the true and only religion. I have appreciation for all religions and cultures. 

I took a quiz on Belief.net and they pegged my true religion as liberal Quaker.  That's cool.

I loathe this:

Hyper-criticalness in regards to the human body.

When I was house-sitting recently, I found those popular celebrity rags in the bathroom magazine bin.  All I remember was people being picked apart for their cellulite and designer choices. 

It's sickening.

It is good for people to be healthy and fit.  That's true. 

It is not good to pick beautiful people apart.  What is the end in that? It's just pure, unadulterated meanness and petty cruelty.

Sandra Bullock is fuckin' gorgeous with a few dimples in her leg.   And nobody gives a rats' ass about Donatella Versace's derriere.  Jesus.

Celebrities only want what we all want...  to make a mark on the world and to know love.  I thank God (or name your deity) every day that I am not famous and that relatively few people know my face.

The millions they are paid are piss-poor solace for being ripped apart, pursued, dedicated to the point of altering your body.

The other bitch of fame is the down time.

PS: Anything Diane Keaton wears is fine with me.

not

Not... going out tonight.  There's no reason!

Not... going  to Orlando to see Margaret Cho on March 4.

Cheaper to wait for the DVD release.

Am... gonna have dinner tonight.

Modern frozen food selections are a wonderful resource.

Short enough for ya, buterfly?

wasn't easy

I'm writing pretty much anything I think.  I wonder why more gays and lesbians aren't blogging. I know they have computer access.  I know they can and do write.

For the record, I came a long way to get to the point where I can be open with the whole AOL blog-reading world.  People who know me think I am shy... bashful.  Huh!  I am a wild tiger by comparison to who I used to be.

Yeah, there is danger in exposing your feelings and thoughts, both to you and to those you write about as well as for those who read you.  (Their minds may be swayed.)  However, there comes a point in your life when you are too tired/angry/living momento mori to be quiet any longer.

("Momento mori" is Latin for "Remember your death/Remember you must die."  It is an exhortation to live.)

Someone always appreciated my writing, even in elementary school.  That helped.

After a car accident in 1972, with a scarred face, reading, writing  and art were solace.

In high school, I wrote bad teenage poetry and took part in the literary magazine with other nerds and latent queers.

In college, I left a notebook open in the professors' office where I worked and came in to found one of them reading.  He liked it!  It was also at college that my friends encouraged me to open myself to my gayness.  They saved my life, I have no doubt.  I do not know where I would be if they had not come into my life.  Well... dead or richer. (lol)

After college, before I finished all my credit hours and before my career was scheduled to take off, I found myself stopping everything to take care of my mother.  That little detour was eight years long.

I entered a shut-in existence in a rural area.  When I emerged after Mom's death, I was "Ma'am" instead of "Miss."  Yeah, I missed a lot, including the opportunity to learn a lot about relationships.  I am fortunate to have friends and family to advise me and help me mull over the tight spots.

I wrote epic letters to my friends during school breaks.  Twenty hand-written pages would be just a short note.  The funny thing is that they kept those letters.  They may have thrown them out by now, that would only be sane.  But they offered to send them back so I could form a book.  I should have but I didn't have it in me.

I could have written a book about caring for my mother, but it was too painful when I was close to it.  We kept a journal of her care.  After she died, the nurse encouraged me to throw it away.  I think even now, the process would be very painful.

Don't get me wrong.  My mother was a saint, an angel.  She smiled and laughed inspite of being hemi-plegic (paralyzed on one side) and aphasiac (barely able to talk.)  She taught me what love is.  You don't need to know the rest.

I am stopped.  I was writing about my journey as a writer.  The last few paragraphs have seized my heart and I have to stop for now.   Sorry.  (Did I mention that two professionals have said I suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder from these long years of service?)

I think that kicked in when M mentioned the housekeeping.  I couldn't possibly show her that old world.

 

 

February 26, 2005

What can you expect from a day that starts with the water pressure dropping to nothing while you are conditioning your hair?

That made me late for work but I was grateful to have gallon jugs of water around.  I need to remember to replace them.

I came home for lunch and found two neighborhood boys standing around the railroad ties in my front yard...  they had broke the old ties up and splayed them around to suit themselves.

"What are you doing?"  The reply: "Looking for lizards."  The response: "What you are doing is vandalism and if I see you in my yard again I will call the sheriff."  They blew out for home at mention of the authorities.

Poor kids.

I am blue, anyway.  Loneliness is eating at me, especially since that incident with M.  I wonder if she can forgive me for doing what I felt necessary.  Maybe I didn't give her a chance.  She just made me feel so unhappy the previous night, with her diatribe about how I should live.  And I was wary after intimacy.  I am not sure we are compatible enough.  Maybe it was just too early.  What have I done?

Do I want another chance?  She is very bossy.  And she seems to be hiding herself from people who love her.  I have problems with these things.

I often think about going out to the gay bars in St. Lucie County.  I usually refrain though.  I am often depressed after a night there.  It's only fun if you go with friends.  I watch other people dancing and laughing.  I am not the sort to approach a stranger. And after you've seen a few drag shows, the novelty fades away.  (Especially after seeing the same queen's routines year after year.  Love you, Kelli.  Nothing personal.)

I also think about checking out one of two opportunities to go to an MCC, but Sunday is such a good day for resting as God intended.  I find hypocrits in every church.  And maybe people at MCCs are just as suspicious of you and possibly more so than a regular church.

I had a crazy thought today.  "Talk to V."  Then I thought, "No, that is crazy.  She doesn't want you around."

The good thing today is that one of my friends wrote to say she has a date. Way to go, girlfriend!  Hope it goes well for her.  She needs something really good in her life (in addition to her son.)

I brought home my air tank to fill the water pump but found that someone had already been here.  Things started to look up.

I am not sure but I think I may have lost the friendship of the very helpful racist nudist next door the night that I had M (in the carnal sense.)  She cried my name, loudly and repeatedly.  (I prefer unverbalized gasps, moans and cries.  At least the neighbors can have some doubts then.)  If he talks to me over the fence again, I'll know we're okay.  If not, I'm going to have to bother my landlord more often.

Dick (that's what they call my neighbor) has always be kind to me, especially when I need help.  But he is definite about who he likes and doesn't like.  I think my name may have moved from one list to the other last week.

Alas!

inner life (1)

This is my life.

I am resting on a very comfortably set-up air mattress in my living room.  The glow of my computer is my primary light source.

A small full-grown grey and black domestic short-haired cat rests near my head.

The only sound aside from Internet buddy sounds is the hum of traffic on a wet highway and the whirr of a pedestal fan in the other room.

My nights are like this.  I have friends I could visit, but I am not the type to make a nuisance of myself.  I have family I should visit more often.

People IM and the letters forming words here are swept into IM windows.  That's okay.  Reality calls me.  The teenage lesbian who introduced me to M writes often.  She's sort of a surrogate for my step-sister in college, who sometimes is wiser than I am.  My big sister experience and time teaching helps these relationships with younger people.  I understand boys better than girls.  I love going fishing with my step-brother.  I should call him and take him out to dinner sometime.

The people I work with who are my near equals seem to enjoy my humor and my light-hearted approach to customer service.  

I drive a white 1997 Saturn SL1 with over 130,000 miles on it.   I take good care of it and will keep it until it can't go any further.  I have a dream: 250,000... which may be unrealistic as they don't have to make parts for it after 2007, but a girl can dream.  In the words of Phranc, "It's not crazy for a girl to love her car...."

My home is cluttered with the refuse of my past life with my family.  I need to get rid of it.  I need freedom from it because I need to be able to blend my life with someone elses and the less STUFF, the better.

I screwed up a recent potential relationship with a nice woman by talking about my troubles of late with someone else.  What a mistake!  (Forgive me, B....B......?)

The truth is that I am no expert at hurting people.  I am also not good at getting rid of people.  For some reason they want to hang on, call, write, come over, get drunk and leave explicit messages on my father's answering machine.  I just need someone stable.  I don't care who she is or what she looks like.  If togetherness is like brain sex and the spark is there...  BAM!  Kick it up a notch! (Thanks, Emeril.)

Sometimes I have breakfast.  I usually eat dinner for lunch and then nibble when I get home.

I wish I used the following things I own more: my bicycle, my snazzy bowling ball and bowling shoes ( fun souvenirs of an old relationship), my canoe paddle (I gave away my canoe when I moved from my parent's house.), my Scrabble and Othello games.

I need to use these things more:  Florida's beaches.  The charm they tell me I possess.  Both at the same time couldn't hurt me any.

I'm finally writing for public viewing after some 22 years of goading.  Some tell me I should write a book but I can't make things up.

I live alone and only mind it when I can't seem to get things done and when I can't reach an itch.  I would like to try co-habitation.  First I have to find someone who I can get along with, someone assertive but not overbearing or bossy, someone who loves to snuggle.

My relationship with V was so very special to me.  I can't say anything more about it.   I don't count it as baggage.  I count it as a step in my learning process.

My father, married to a younger woman, misses me when I don't pay a regular call to his home.   Lately though, I can't drag myself into town, which is unfortunate because he is elderly (73) and has his own set of troubles and needs an ally in whom to confide.  I was the best "man" at his wedding, after all!

I like my primary job but am suffering under an interim manager who is driving all of us crazy by having a hand in EVERYTHING.  I am the only person with the cojones to face her toe-to-toe, but mostly I just give in.

My opinion is that we should not be ashamed to be alone.  I'm just as well off (maybe even more so) online as I am in a dreary bar.

I was recently delighted to get a message in this journal from a noted American artist and activist as well as from a very gifted and sweet drag queen.  Who knew this outpouring would get positive attention? 

At this writing, my counter says it's been looked at 800 times!  I think that is at least 3/4 more than I have looked here.  I wonder what all those people have thought and what their lives are like.

 

 

Girls!

What I hope to fnd in a "mate:"

Honesty

Patience

Calmness

Sanity

Laughter

Slow to judge

Kindness

Knows how to share

Respect

Intelligence

Wit

What I think women find in me:

Intelligence

Honesty

Wit

Laughter

Respect

Hard work

Willingness to adapt/flexibility

Spontaneity

Autonomy

more later, it's even later!

Eggs (aka FOOD!)

I like eggs.  In fact, I crave them.  Fried sunny-side up with a runny yolk or scrambled, with a side of Jewish rye.  I don't know why.

In the last three days, I've craved cheeseburgers (Wendy's classic double.)  Sometimes, it's pizza that calls my name.

But it is not all fast food.  Sometimes it is raw tuna, with grape tomatoes, raw spinach and corn chips. I realize that may sound a little freaky to some people, but I believe that your body will tell you what it needs if you listen to it. Tuna is a good fish, and tuna steak is in vogue... which is a good thing.  I like the Mahi-Mahi sandwiches at Chris' Hurricane in Fort Pierce's south beach.  Thanks to V for taking me there.

I love the Ensalata Fiorucci at Carabba's, and not just because it is fun to say.  The piece de resistance is the little wheel of warm Fontina cheese in the center and the roasted red peppers.  I could die!

When I am ill, I have to have wonton soup from my favorite Chinese restaurant.  It fixes me up right as rain.

Shrimp mei fun.  General Tso's chicken.  Moo goo gai pan.  Almond duck.

I loved those Dole fruit juice blends, especially Pine-Orange-Banana and Mango Lime Fiesta.  (I won't complain if you put some Parrot Bay (coconut rum*) in my Mango Lime Fiesta.  Sweet!) {*everything I thought liquor was supposed to be when I was a child.}

Pizza.  Do I have to say more?  Ok, since you were wondering; sausage, red peppers, broccoli, eggplant, olives, pickles, pineapple, carrot, onion, garlic, pepperoni, prosciutto, tomatoes, mushrooms, thyme....  (NO!  Not all at once.)

Eggplant parmigiana.

Ba'sketti.

And your saying, "J., what about that lactose thing?"  And I am responding that quality milk products don't bother me and besides, if they do, it's not like I'm sleeping with anyone anyway.  Which brings us to...

Ice cream.  Vanilla, Strawberry.  And everything else.

Chocolate:  Cadbury dark.  Toblerone.  Nestle.  Hershey.  Russell Stover.             A little dab'll do ya'.

What don't I like?  Scallops.

Favorite food from travel abroad: sandwiches in a hotel across the street from Windsor Castle.  So flavorful it was insane.  Name?  Damned if I can recall.

Strawberries.

Nutella.

Odd, but fun: calamari, sushi. (I do like ginger and I do like Wasabi.)  I never see a squid that didn't make me wistful for Jacques Cousteau.

Oh, here's a good one: R.J. Gator's portabella burger.  No meat.  Big ol' 'shroom.  Yummers.

I could go on....

PS: though it would not hurt me to lose 10 pounds, I am not fat.  I am, however, cuddly.  And for the record I did some time as a vegetarian.  Ten years, in fact.

AJ, JV, VD, I/E... rambling mind

The title of this entry refers to Angelina Jolie and her father, Jon Voight, V... because VD is her life's work and fit in sequence and I/E as opposed to "i.e." because I mean to talk about Internet identity.

Angelina... gorgeous.  Her father... gave her many of her features.  I never really cared for him before, but now... things are different.  Good actor.  And I have a full-face picture of Angelina as the background on my computer.  I can't help myself.  It makes everyone sigh and perhaps drool a little.

My first exposure to her was in "Gia."  Wow.  There are movies that are an actor, that should be their shining moment.  I think she is much herself in the character that scales walls to see her girlfriend, this incredible force of nature.  It's so amazing that she has become such a humanitarian.  The girl LIVES life.

I watched her father tonight in "The Five People You Meet in Heaven."  He was good... except his make-up... ugh!

Is there a point to this?  Not really.  I warned you I was rambling.

I did want to mention "identity." (Internet/E-mail)  My first e-mail account was on GO.  I then transferred to Yahoo!  I used  this one address for every function and soon found it burdened with junk mail.  I created a hotmail account when I came to my current job so that I would have a new milieu for the delivery of office correspondence.  Then I got a computer.  AOL.  Then Josh came into my life and gave me Gmail from Google.  And I am tracking all these identities.

From this I've learned that one probably only needs three addresses:

1.  a catch-all

2.  professional/business

3.  true friends and family only

I confess to having a fourth -- for being naughty, illicit and bad.

Virage65 is my catch-all on AOL.  It's French for "Curve."  Well, because real women have them....

My catch-all on Yahoo! drew a lot of attention from people in the middle east, believe it or not, because it is a Hindu word.  I speak no Hindi.  It was a fluke.  I was paying tribute to my dog with that address.  It apparently means something close to "Winter" in an eastern tongue.  I wondered why I'd get all these "Salaam" greetings and an ocassional "Namaste."

It turns out that men in the middle east and Africa are probably lonelier than bachelors here... because of AIDS.  I spoke online with an Egyptian banker who told me that sex was too dangerous over there and that made people desperate for clean partners.

I also spoke with a man in ...  where was it?  Someplace like India?  It'll come back to me.  He ran a workshop and I asked about his workers.  He told me that he sometimes gives them food and that what they asked for most was Kentucky Fried Chicken and Coca-Cola.  These are items that the workers themselves can't really afford.  I remember thinking I wouldn't be able to either at that price.

I can't make this stuff up... and I don't have the energy to lie.  It is such a waste of time and I have enough stuff in my head without having to store files of falsehoods.  I find that telling the truth and being myself has two effects:

1. You find out real fast who likes you and who doesn't.  Some people dig realness, some are intimidated.

2. I am able to put people at ease with my humor and directness.

More later.  It's late.

great inventions

If anything, the hurricanes of 2004 pointed out how incredibly spoiled we are and how much we take for granted.  I remember my step-mother telling me about trying to convince a woman not to buy microwaveable food during the rush to stock up.  She said the woman just glared at her.  Oi vey.

People come here and they have money and they are very important because they're from Connecticut or New Jersey... treat everyone else like rubes, don't listen to wisdom....

But I digress...

The real purpose of this entry is to celebrate the wonderful things that we have and use every day that are so helpful.  I welcome your input and addition to the list.

- indoor plumbing                                                                                                   

- electric oven

- washer/dryer

- clean water

- tub/shower 

-electric lights/power

-plastic garbage bags

-soap and deodorant

Do you get my drift?  Our lives are better with these things which seem so simple and basic.

- the toothbrush

- clocks

- bottle openers

Imagine living in a time when these did not exist or were scarce.

- refrigeration/air conditioning

What do you want to add?

a little humor

Rules For The Correct Lesbian.

A lesbian drinks out of a glass. A dyke pops a top.

A lesbian buys real estate. A dyke rents.

A lesbian keeps stock in the safety deposit box. A dyke puts it back out on the shelf.

A dyke on bike owns a Harley. A lesbian owns a Schwinn.

A dyke's tattos dont rub off. A lesbian's don't show.

A lesbian brunches. A dyke drives-through.

A lesbian has acquaintances. A dyke has buddies.

A dyke buys Playboy over the counter. A lesbian has a subscription.

None of a lesbian's earrings are made from parts in her tool box.

A lesbian drives a Porsche. A dyke commands a Camaro.

A lesbian has her ears pierced. A dyke always goes further. Way further.

A dyke can actually say the word dildo. A lesbian can pass.

You can always tell a dyke. But not much.

A lesbian cooks. A dyke defrosts.

A dyke makes dinner. A lesbian makes reservations.

A lesbian entertains at home. A dyke has a regular stool.

A lesbian networks. And chats. A dyke shows up.

A lesbian serves canapes. A dyke feeds you from a can o'peas.

A dyke has a tool belt. A lesbian has a tooled belt.

A dyke will drink from the hose. A lesbian sprays Evian to set her makeup.

A dyke believes she looks good in an eight dollar haircut.

A lesbian plays games. A dyke watches them.

A dyke plays softball. A lesbian plays hardball.

Or was it the other way around....?  

Thanks to ... AOL Hometown Homepage "I'm a dork."

Blues on Tuesday

If you date someone for a while but then break it off, do they have the right to obsess over you and torment you?

It never feels good to hurt someone, but you have to learn that when someone pushes you away, they are done.

You make mistakes.  You find someone fun and sexy and you let your lust rule your head.  Oops!

It's all a learning process and it is so much better to go SLOW.

Would it be any easier now for either of us if I hadn't taken advantage of her willingness?

Someone pushed me away once.  Then she pushed me away four or five times before she finally told me we had to end our relationship.

Naturally I hurt like hell and was confused.  I asked questions and made myself obnoxious.  That was when she told me to cut myself off completely.  Someone said its my karma.  I believe it.  (For the record, I complied with her wishes.)

People who hurt you cannot help you.  You have to find your own way.  You need to let them go.  Someone better is out there.

 

chat life #1

I was only trying to be helpful when I offered info. in a lesbian chat room about how to get a picture of Brad Pitt nekkid.  Too sensitive.  Lighten up people.  He's a pretty boy and not a bad actor at all.  I have a new appreciation for him because V is wild about him.  I watched "Meet Joe Black."  I love the scene where he licks peanut butter off a spoon.  I don't know why.  He's just cute, I guess.  I also mentioned Angelina Jolie being available as well.  Not appreciated.  Oh, come on!  We are all naked under our clothes.  Get over it!

I like naked people.  I find beauty in all shapes and sizes.  I confess to a fondness for heavy-set women.  Honestly though, it just doesn't matter what the body is.  You are not your skin, muscles, fat, bones in much the same way you are not your car.  You are inside your car and you use it for transport.  Your body is only a shell.

If you don't get what I mean, wait until someone you love dies. 

 

our prez

"I'm not going to kick gays because I'm a sinner. How can I differentiate sin?"
-President George W. Bush    

discretion, part 2

Not having the truth told to me also hurts me.  In the beginning of a relationship, if you find that someone has something to hide, more lies are bound to be coming.

It is said that people will tell you who they are if you listen closely enough to them.  I usually find this to be true.  On the other hand, you should probably be wary of people who don't tell you enough about who they are and then ask you to be discreet, to keep out of parts of their lives or who don't share you in their life.

My new friends meet my family and my old friends.  They can call me at home.  They can go with me anywhere. 

When people can't offer you the same... something is wrong.

discretion

There are things I would like to write about here that discretion forbids.  The inability to tell the whole truth hurts me.  To feel stifled in my writing makes me feel wronged.  Still one must be fair to others who might be hurt.  You may think that what I have written is laying everything out on the table, which is what I try to do, but I have also attempted to name no names and keep specific facts out of the words.  Everyone I write about has access to this journal.  I have seen to it that they are sent a link. None of them has asked me not to write about them or to make erasures yet.

Righting a wrong, preventing a tragedy

Weeks ago, two men came into the place I work.  They were full of rage.  The older of the two men I knew would be a problem when he walked in because he looked at me from the door and said, "Howdy, ma'am." They pointed to a man in the building and told us he was a child molester.   They wanted us to call the sheriff.  They also wanted to take him into the parking lot and castrate him.

The taller of the two was a father and a blustering braggart who verbally threw his credentials at me.  (People like that are people to watch out for because they get their sense of themselves from outside themselves.  They think their affililations, money and perceived "class" make them special and better.)  I do realize that at that point the man was desperate for action and using whatever he could to get us to comply.

The second "man" was a bead-eyed little redneck who I could tell was spoiling to do violence.  He told the man's name.  I recognized that the name he said was not the name of the fellow in the building. 

I got my upline bosses to come out and speak to the men in question.  I knew that really we had no right to infringe on the privacy of the man they referred to because of the law and our professional ethics.  Certainly, if he was a registered offender, we have to take action because children frequent my place of work. 

These men were understandably angry.  Nobody likes a baby-raper... not even men in prison.  It is a most heinous and damaging crime.  I would feel the same way if I knew for sure the man had  touched a child in the wrong way.  The word was that he had approached children in the park.  Someone working with me said that someone else had made the same claim on the man.

Standing together, we convinced the men that there was a right way to go about taking care of this problem and even offered them use of our phone to call the sheriff.  Had I been the one to call, I would have had to complain about the men making the complaint because they came in making threats to someone I have never seen do anything wrong.

The men went outside to use their cell phone to call the sheriff.  The sheriff came and questioned the man to whom the others had referred at length in one of our backrooms.  After that, all was quiet, but we have been watching the man against whom the claims were made.

Last night, at the beach, I went to the restroom and there on the ladies room wall was a flyer from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, with a photograph and the name that the men had said that night.

The face on the flyer was very similar to the man we see in our business on a regular basis, but it was not the same face.

Today at work, I will print the FDLE flyer and show it to my co-workers.  I will explain that we can stand down.  The man who is often our customer is not a registered pervert... but he looks like one.

I have a feeling that at least one person in the room will insist that our guy is the man in the picture, because they have not learned to really look at people.  But just maybe, though I feel doubtful, my co-workers will let it go and let our customer move freely, without suspicion.

Moreover, they will know that the whole thing is a case of mistaken identity because they have finally seen the real criminal and if the wild-eyed vigilantes ever return there will be no doubts as to whom the sheriff needs to be called for.

a good friend

Last night I IMed T to tell her about M.  And T said to me something I never expected.  Other people have told me, "You are kind to a fault."  T told me that I give myself away and have nothing left for myself.  T has issues with co-dependence and having explored them at length in therapy, she would know. 

It's funny, but I don't think I'm doing anything wrong. I mean whatever it is that I do means that I am often hurt.  But I'm okay with that.  Life is to be lived and what good are we if we can't help each other out?  They are telling me to protect myself.  To hold back.

Maybe my friends are telling me that I tend to sublimate my own needs and desires.  Yes, I guess that is true.  It's also true that I am still learning.  The way I am is subject to change.  I recently learned to speak my true mind.  Maybe now I will use my voice to change the world into something I devised.  But probably not.  Ya' see... I'm happy.

It reminds me of the parable of the non-conforming sparrow.  Do you know this story?

Once upon a time there was a non-conforming sparrow who decided not to follow the flock south for the winter but to wait.

When the sparrow finally did elect to leave, it was snowing.  The birds wings soon froze and it careened to the ground, landing in a soft pasture. The bird despaired, "Surely, this is my end!"

It was just then that a passing cow pooped on the bird.  Ironically, the hot fresh manure warmed the bird, restoring his hope, and he began to sing.

A cat, hearing the bird, dug the bird out and ate him.

The morals of this story:

1.  Those who get you into shit are not necessarily your enemies.

2.  Those who get you out of shit are not necessarily your friends.

3.  If you are warm and happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.

I just thought I'd share that little treasure.

 

nothing to say

Ha!

Riddle

Aside from amoebas...

what is the only thing that multiplies by division?

Clue:  It is not an animal.

Burning ears

Something amazing has come over me.  I feel "M" physically when she's gone.  I was calm in my last relationships, thinking it was just maturity.  This time, I feel her in my skin.  It's so weird.  I don't know what's happening.  I do know that these tentative first steps make this new relationship something akin to a ball of the finest crystal, so fragile and important.  I know I have to work to give the ball wings to keep itself aloft. 

I haven't kissed her and I am trying to put that off until it becomes the sign that we are heading to the next level.  I have learned that I need to learn before becoming physical but the physical is so out there with "M."  It's gonna be a fight.

My chest is tight, I am so anxious.  I feel myself already getting wrapped around her pinky.  I must be insane.  Good people keep happening to me and I know that God answers my prayers... and when I least expect it.  She has made it clear that she does not want to be under my thumb.  I think T and V would tell her, as both remarked to me, that I let them be themselves.  I own no one.  I might WANT TO... but I know the truth of the matter.

I may add more to this train of thought later.  I have to get back to my job....

It's amazing...

The ironies of life never cease to amaze me.

Today I had breakast with a someone wonderful.  We will call her "M."  She is beautiful and smart and very talented.  Better yet she is educated and very direct.  I love that in a woman!

This falls under the category of finding something again once you have given up the search and gone and found yourself the replacement:  After verifying mutual interest with M,  I received a response today from a message I sent to V ... maybe sometime last month I think?  She's so sweet.  I will always love her.

And now I need to help hook up the woman who introduced me to my new love....  You know who you are and you have to know that it will happen!

"M" has read this journal and has been interrogating me thoroughly....

I think it will be safe to set back that "cat lady" timetable for a spell.

 

lyrics to Ain't Life a Brook by Ferron

I watch you reading a book
I get to thinking our love's a polished stone
You give me a long drawn look
I know pretty soon you're going to leave our home
And of course I mind,
especially when I'm thinking from my heart
But life don't clickety clack down a straight line track
It comes together and it comes apart.
You say you hope I'm not the kind
To make you feel obliged
To go ticking through your time
With a pained look in your eyes
You give me the furniture, we'll divide the photographs
Go out to dinner one more time
Have ourselves a bottle of wine
And a couple of laughs
And when first you left
I stayed so sad I wouldn't sleep
I know that love's a gift, I thought yours was mine
And something that I could keep
Now I realize that time is not the only compromise
But a bird in the hand could be an all night stand
Between a blazing fire and a pocket of skies
So I hope I'm not the kind
To make you feel obliged
To go ticking through your time
With a pained look in your eyes
I covered the furniture, I framed the photographs
Went out to dinner one more time
Had myself a bottle of wine and a couple of laughs
And just the other day
I got your letter in the mail
I'm happy for you, its been so long
You've been wanting a cabin and a backwoods trail
And I think that's great...me...
I seem to find myself in school
It's all Ok, I just want to say
I'm so relieved we didn't do it cruel
But ain't life a brook
Just when I get to feeling like a polished stone
I give me along drawn look
It's kind of a drag to find yourself alone
And sometimes I mind
Especially when I'm waiting on your heart
But life don't clickety clack down a straight line track
It comes together and it comes apart.
Cause I know you're not the kind
To make me feel obliged
To go ticking through my time with a pained look
In my eyes
I sold the furniture, I put away the photographs
Went out to dinner one more time
Skipped the bottle of wine
Had a couple of laughs
And wasn't it fine....

 

Love you!

Love you, too!

OK Bye!

Day after Valentine's

The house-sitting is over.  I really loved having a big ol' house, city water, a great dog to care for.  The most I accomplished today was taking some of my house-sitting pay and buying a new pair of sneakers.  I think I'll save them for "dress up" and stick to my "sensible shoes."

That reminds me of an old joke.  Did you hear that the market is selling lesbian chickens?  They have fat thighs, no breasts and a left wing. 

Shows what the joker knew about lesbians!  I've never met one that didn't have lovely breasts.  Maybe not as prominently displayed....

I met someone new online today through one of my other chat buddies.  She actually lives in this county.  It's a miracle!

I'm not foolish enough to assume that something will come of it, but it is so good to find people NEARBY.

AOL reads these journals and ranks them.  I think that I may be too explicit for public consumption, though not nearly as explicit as is possible.  I do honor AOL for allowing uncensored thought.  That is still guaranteed to us under the Constitution... which the Bush administration seems to be working hard to erode.  Free speech is paramount to our continuing freedom and diversity.

I have given thought to editing myself, but I figure we all have to die... might as well tell the truth as you see it.

I did want to say that my thoughts and opinions are subject to change.  I may think differently about something I have said, with or without someone else's influence.  I am saying that nothing is cast in stone... or maybe that stone can be sanded down and recarved.

On the other hand, I may say something in order to be controversial and cause you to think.

Mostly, however, I just report what I see.

Deserving

It's okay to let other people speak.  Sometimes their eloquence is all you need. 

To wit:

(the following entry is from this journal: http://journals.aol.com/peppypioneer/JustMeMusin/ )

 

Just Me Musin"

 

  Friday, January 14, 2005
3:38:00 AM EST
Feeling Quiet
Hearing house is quiet My Mums Marriage

 

The year was 1949.  I was seven years old and living with my maternal grandparents when my Mother and Jackie were married in a small ceremony in a church in San Francisco, Ca.  Both had been married before and both brought a child into this union, a dughter of 7 by my mom and a son of 20 by Jackie.

After their union Betty and Jackie hitched an old travel trailer onto the back of an older car and set off to "see the country", stopping when the whim took them or they needed to work for a few months to replenish a dwindling bank account.  For three years they criss-crossed the United States, staying for extended periods in Florida, Arizona, and California and settling finally in the fledgling town of Las Vegas, Nevada.

Betty worked as a waitress both while they were "on the road" and also once they set down roots in the Nevada desert.  Jackie was a cook and easily found employment at one "greasy spoon" or another.  While traveling both Betty and Jackie stayed in close contact with "their" children, visiting when possible and sending many letters and phone calls along the way.

In High School I went to Nevada to live with my mother and Jackie in Las Vegas.  Life was rather routine, with work, school, chores, a little tv and an occasional forway to Lake Meade to fish or sun and swim.  Fred and his wife came often to visit, bringing their daughter with them.

Mother and Jackie did everything they could do legally in their 34 years together to make the "passing" of one or the other easier, including pre-paying funeral expenses and buying adjoining plots. 

At the end of their 33rd year together Jackie fell and broke a hip.  This was the first time in my life experience with Mother and Jackie that I felt the sting of societies intolerence and rejection.  Because mother and Jackie could not be "legally" married, both my mother and I were barred from sitting with Jackie while she lay dying in the intensive care unit of a local hospital, UNLESS WE LIED and said we were "relatives".  Jackie's son could not leave LA at the time and stayed in touch by phone, but he did not make it over before his mother passed on.

Adding insult to injury, when my mother and I went to the funeral parlor where she and Jackie had purchased plans and plots, my mother was not allowed to pick a casket or arrange for the funeral until after Fred showed up and gave it his rubber stamp of approval.  In addition, the local newspaper would not list my mother, who had been Jackie's life mate for 34 years, in the obituary.  For many friends, Jackie's passing would go unnoticed because her obituary carried her "given" name, not the one she had used for fifty years, and my mother wasn't listed by name to help with "recognition".

Betty and Jackie worked hard their entire lives.  They raised children who became heterosexual, functional and moral adults.  They paid taxes and contributed to the charities of their choice.  They never got to reap the benefits of a "marriage tax break" or any other.  They lived in a time when each had to provide their own health insuance, or do without.  Did they think this was fair?  No, of course not,, but their complaints were few and mostly had to do with being "accepted" as worthwhile human beings, not "sinners" or "perverts".

I wish that many "Christians" I know could have the benefit of knowing these two loving and caring people as I did.  It is hard to see "sin" in the face of love, compassion and normalcy.  Both my mother and Jackie had made an attempt to be other than who/what they were by marrying and bearing children.  My father left for good when I was less than a year old.  Jackie stayed in her marriage until she was widowed at an early age.  Both were miserable in their roles as "wife" and both thrived in their relationship with one another.  I can only believe that God smiled on their union because only good things came from it.  Peace

Written by peppypioneer (Link to this entry) This entry has 9 comments: (Add your own)

thanks for telling this story mom... takes a lot of courage to take the best of history... we miss "Grammy"

xxooxx

jeff

Comment from jeffyouknowwho - 1/26/05 11:03 PM
You ruined my lunch.  I didn't even enjoy my favorite dessert - warm pecan pie and vanilla ice cream.  

I have a bad taste in my mouth.  I am angry.

There are six BILLION of us on this planet.  Six billion human animals, selfish by nature, each trying their best to make his or her life as pleasant as possible in an unpredictable, sometimes chaotic, dangerous and indifferent world.  

Christianity SAYS it is the answer to all of life's problems.  It is just the opposite.  It is a cloying, regimented, unforgiving mode of behavior based on fear and founded on a belief in fairy tales written in a book by lonely desert shepherds dreaming of as better life to come after the dreary life they lived.  They even invented a son of their god who died at 34 for treason, traipsed around the desert for 40 months only with 12 other men,never got laid and knew only two women - his mother and a whore.  Hardly god material.

What Betty and Jackie had was so much better than what Christians have.  They had true love for 34 years.  Not love dictated by others.  Unselfish, non-judgemental, unconditional love that most Christians can never have.  There is no heaven.  But if there was, first in line would be Betty.  And when Jackie leaves, they will be together again.  As they are now, in your heart.

Love,

Rob (An animal who can type)    
Comment from wangfuzhong2 - 1/25/05 3:46 PM
You know what I find fascinating?  Nowhere do you actually mention that Jackie is a woman and that you are writing about two women who decided to marry each other.  There isn't even a pronoun to give you away until nearly the end.

Because of this, I assumed that "Jackie" was an affectionate name for a man named "Jack", not a woman named "Jaqueline".

I wonder why that is?
Comment from ribald1 - 1/24/05 2:56 AM
When you describe betty and jackie this way, they are [my] heros.  
Comment from boycalleddare - 1/20/05 11:52 PM
This is one of the BEST things that I have ever read. It will be with me for a long time. Found my way here thru Judi. (She is just the best!)  Glad to know you! Anne (Saturday's Child)
Comment from ksquester - 1/18/05 8:28 PM
Paulette,

You just gave me goose bumps!  What a beautiful story.  As far as the idiots at the hospital, I always lie and say I'm family!  If someone I love is in there hurt, I'm family!  My uncle and his partner have been together for over 30 years.  Let's hope we are making progress.  

dave
http://journals.aol.com/ibspiccoli4life/RandomThoughtsfromaProgressiveMi
Comment from ibspiccoli4life - 1/15/05 5:28 PM
I am sure that is was harder at that time then it would be today. Thankgoodness your Mom had a daughter like you that could accept her life style. Blessings, Paula
Comment from plieck30 - 1/14/05 8:04 PM
Hello, you don't probably know me but Kimbelina sent me this way and I am so glad she did. What a lovely, loving entry. I am a lesbian who lived in an abusive marriage for twenty years.... never really realizing who I was until I got back into contact with my best friend from high school, who had always been a lesbian. You see.... I was planning suicide and wanted to know that she made out all right before I left this earth.
"Life is what happens when you are making other plans"....
I discovered feelings and things about myself that I had never allowed myself to see, left my abusive marriage two years and two months ago, and came to live in a safe and loving home for the first time in my life. Sorry for the long story, but I wanted you to understand just how much this entry meant to me... I am living without my 16 and 20 year old children because they refuse to accept the choice I made.
But I am alive.
Blessings to you and yours.
judi
http://journals.aol.com/judithheartsong/newbeginning/
Comment from judithheartsong - 1/14/05 12:53 PM
I HAPPEN TO THINK THAT YOU HAD TWO VERY GOOD ROLE MODELS IN THOSE TWO BRAVE , COURAGEOUS WOMEN. I KNOW IT WASNT EASY FOR THEM. EVEN TODAY, SOCIETY IS SO HINKY ABOUT THIS AND IT MAKES ME SICK. I SAY LIVE AND LET LIVE. TO EACH HIS OWN. WHOSE TO SAY WHERE AND WITH WHOM ONES HAPPINESS LIES? I HAVE A NEICE AND NEPHEW WHO ARE BOTH GAY AND I DO NOT TOLERATE ANYONE PUTTING THEM DOWN FOR IT. I LOVE THEM. LOVE DOESNT SEE A SEXUAL PREFERENCE. LOVE IS UNCONDITIONAL. PERIOD DOT.
THANK YOU FOR THIS ENTRY.
KIM.

Reversi

Guilty pleasure:  MSN Reversi (a game -- also known as "Othello")

This is probably my favorite game.  Not as complex a Chess, not as  simple as Checkers.

It is a two-player game, with 64 spaces in a square.  The playing pieces are white on one side and black on the other.  You start the game with four pieces in the center in a square that is diagonal white and black.  (If I knew how to get a picture and insert it, I would.)  Black moves first.

The object of the game is to outflank your opponent, to have more pieces on the board at the end of the game.  (It is possible to win the game before the board is filled.) 

You have one of your "men" on one end, you place another opposite your opponent's piece and you turn over any and all of your opponents men that you have managed to sandwich between the piece you put down and any of your other pieces flanking his or her men.

I'm good at this game.  It's one of those, "No one wants to play with me (because I usually win)" situations.  But having this laptop has opened up my world.  I'm talking INTERNET REVERSI here people.  I love you MSN!

I have played this game with people in China, Portugal (or maybe Brazil), Spain, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Italy, Turkey, Japan, Korea, an undetermined Arabic-speaking country and I can't remember where else.  You don't know anything about your opponent other than the language that they speak.

I confess that I have been beaten several times.  And I have had my ass kicked several times, too.

I have managed to figure out some of the concepts that make you successful in this game.  Apparently there are some things, however, that I have yet to put words to.

I think I owe my enjoyment of this game to my father's love of Chess. He taught me to play and I think I actually won a game once when I played with him.  I have often applied Chess to driving in traffic.  Chess is a helpful thing to know.

Maybe one of the lessons of Reversi is that you need other people.  If there is no one on your team on the other side of your opponent, you are lost.

Wanna play?

the meter

There's a ticker at the bottom of the page that shows me how many time my journal has been read.  A moment ago, it said 328.  Wow.  I don't know if they count the times I add to it or not.  I am pretty sure though that it isn't just me.  I am pretty sure I haven't been here 328 times.  So if you are reading, and you feel like saying something, please do.  I don't care if it positive or negative.  You don't have to leave a name.

For so many years, I have written letters and have a book of just over 100 poems -- some which suck, some which are okay, and some that might just be damn good.  But the chance to hear what other people think, aside from people who love my work because they love me, is a special opportunity.

Mind you, the people who have been encouraging me to write a book of any kind for more than 20 years are intelligent people who know good writing.  My problem is that I can't make things up.  I can only relay what I see. 

Did you hear that?  Nora Roberts heaved a sigh of relief! (She is the bane of people who have to shelve books.  We have kind of given up on alphabetizing her shelves.)

Peace!  Busy dog day ahead of me!

Puppy Power!

Sunday morning and I have not only been out of bed before 7:30 a.m., but I have been outside.  I don't know when I opened my eyes, because I was struggling to keep them open as I chatted with online friends last night, but open they did. As soon as my backbone would follow I was squirming and stretching and I called to the golden retriever lying  on the other side of the bed and he moved over to me without standing so I could pet his head.  This is the life!

Don't get me wrong.  I love my cat.  But my friends' golden retriever understands every word I say and reacts to it just the way I hope he would.  Your children should be so well-behaved. 

I have plans for my friend today.  We are going to go play in a nearby park with some pugs and we are probably going to my father's house to meet my step-mother's dog, Snowball. 

There is a black and tan collie there named Sandy Shoes, but he is not as social as Snowbally, who as best as I can guess is some sort of cross between  West Highland White Terrier and maybe a Lhasa Apso?   Maltese?    I haven't seen any dog that looks like him completely.  I think maybe one of his parents was a mixed breed itself.  He's very cute and very stout and very spoiled.

He came to my step-mother's house after being found by firemen when someone thought they heard a baby crying under a house.  My step-sister was a small girl then and seeing the little white ball cried out, "Snowbally."  The dog stayed, but my step-mother was not amused with him at all.  Flash forward to today and my step-mother and the dog cannot live without each other.

Oh, Snowball has my father as a servant, but it is my step-mother's hands that crumble his food to bite-size every night, and she is just about the only person who can pick the dog up.

The pugs we plan to go play with live with a lesbian grandmother of my acquaintance.  Actually that hardly describes Y.K.  She is highly educated, published, and has taught at the professorial level.  She was one of the founders of Compass in Palm Beach County, which is the gay community center.  She's a rare and valuable find in this place.

I need to go home and check on my cat. I could get used to staying in this house, though, where I feel very much loved.  Besides, I use dial-up and people may be trying to call!  I shouldn't be a pig!

Good Morning

Last night was a better night.  I spent time with some of my actual friends, some with my online buds.  I reconnected with the woman I'd been missing and she explained her absence.  And I talked to my married friend, who confirmed what I said after reading the last journal entry.

Actually, she had never told me just how she felt about our talks and the meaning behind them and I have that narrow-minded naysayer to thank for that.  So thanks, A**********6!  A deeper understanding is now between us thanks to this catalyst of defending what we're doing.

Okay, I didn't know what I was going to write this morning... that just came out.  It was sooo cold yesterday and last night.  I fell asleep in my coat!  Usually I strip down and huddle under the sheets, but the blankets would have encumbered chat.  What can I say?  I am a junkie.  My girls online mean something to me, though we may never meet.   I think the online milieu helps to eliminate the moles, and is a meeting, without distractions of the physical. 

That's not to say that the physical isn't there.  It's very much there, but it's the visceral physical and not the visual physical.  The mind can take over.  There are emotions at stake, but none of it is really real until they show up at your door.  And really, that could be... a wonderful thing.  I really like the people I have found.  And I love that I keep finding more of 'em!

By the way... Martin, St. Lucie, northern Palm Beach, even Okeechobee and possibly Indian River and Brevard County women....  Hello!  Not to discourage the Broward County babes, or the ones in Tampa and Jacksonville and other cities, or Texas or Tennessee or California or other states, but I need a woman I can drive to in a day!

PS:  I am self-reliant, independent, but I have thought about giving being a kept woman a try  ...there are a lot of things I am willing to try.

profile search

I am having an interesting time last at night.  Women searching profiles IM me, tell me I am interesting by comparison to other profiles, not shallow.  While I find this complementary, I was to offer this caveat (warning):  I am not what you want me to be and I will not be someone I'm not.  Life is too short for that, to waste time in fakery.

I am still bothered by a convo with a woman who was taken aback by my Internet relationship with a married woman.  She spent a long time trying to convince me that it was a bad thing.  She jumped and judged.  And then I wasted time trying to talk with her about it, to explain my view of the situation.

I own great respect and affection for the woman in question.  I think she and I both know that nothing may ever come of the relationship and I am not trying to steal her away from her sizable family.

I tried to show the midnight chatter that I was in it with open eyes.  I think she wanted me to change my mind and hear me say, "Gee, I see how that could be wrong."

I told her that the situation had many facets and that no one answer was the right one.  I also told the chatter that the woman needs an outlet for her frustrations.  People who are different and forced to hide sometimes commit worser sins than mental adultery; like suicide, for example.

I don't know my friend to be suicidal at all.  She has far too much to live for.           (I just felt compelled to throw in that disclaimer.)

So the chatter finally gave up and typed "Shit" and then "Goodbye."

Okay.  I reiterate... better to find out sooner than later!

 

Postscript: I am listening to the music I mentioned because V quoted it in a letter once as she explained her feelings in my absence.  I just wanted to hear it.  I wonder if her sons led her to discover the song.  I miss her kids.  They are fun, handsome boys.

I am convinced that I am over her, but I can't stop loving her.  I just don't do that.  It's not my way.

another day in paradise

I was in a tired and very unhappy mood today.  I lost the game with a new "chatter."

It wasn't until later in the day that things started getting better.  I found out a friend has found love.

Then someone new IMed me and things went bad again.  Some people can't handle my brand of honesty.  I am not going to try to be shiny and beautiful.  I am flawed.  I am not better than you or my neighbor. I will say EXACTLY what's on my mind, without artifice or condescension.

I am not perky and I am far from perfect. 

It will take someone special to love me.  So far the best offer I have had is from a man in California who talks really sweetly to me.  I am circumspect about talking to this sweet fellow more than I already have because I don't want to encourage him about any prospect of a serious relationship.

Life is a learning process.   A few things you have to remember:

a. You are not responsible for other people's feelings or actions.

b. Love is the way, but sometimes debate and dissent are side-trips you just can't miss.

The truth is that I "suffer" depression.  That is not my fault.  It is something I must fight on a daily basis.  I have learned to be grateful that people come into your life and then leave rapidly.  It is so much better to end something than to carry on a false life and have it end so much farther down the road when you've changed your life to fit around the lie.

Future Cat Lady

Have I mentioned this already?

More and more it looks like my destiny is to become one of those wild old cat ladies, crazy from living alone forever, having lost her family and her mind.  A woman with leathery skin, wild hair with an angry streak.  Hell, I already talk to myself... and have wild hair ... I'm on my way.  Check back in a couple of decades.

dirty ditty

Minds in the gutter
I cannot think
I look at wimmin
my mind says
Drink!
Ain't misbehavin'
until I get wit you....

(Wanna add lines?  Be my guest!)

The Date

When I say "the date" I mean, "what is the number on this day?"

Dates and time mean so little to me.  It's not like I can remember the time anything happened, although I know it was about 4:50 p.m. on a Sunday when V called me on my cell phone to end our relationship.  I know the exact spot I was standing in a store in Jensen Beach because the floor took on a new dimension and began to crawl up my legs.  I wanted to ask for a moment so I could find a place to sit down and breathe.  I should have.

I am no longer lingering over her, I just use it as an expanded example to show what would make something memorable enough.  And maybe I am still recognizing the lessons that came from my time with her.

Anyway...  no dates mean little to me and time is just something measured so that people show up around the same time in the same place, pretty much.  The exact time of something isn't all that relevant.  When someone dies, they have to know the time of death, but it is the fact of death that really matters.

I remember what day in 1996 that my mother died, but I do not become morose on that day every year.  I think that kind of behavior is for fools.  I celebrate her life daily, by sharing her good gifts to my character.

That's all I have to say on this subject for now.

Tuesday and Katie and Tiffany

Tuesday is my day off.  I want to  use this day to sleep in, to search for a new job, to take my car in for routine maintenance, to do laundry, to rendezvous with someone, to lay in bed and play Reversi and chat with strangers, to give quality time to my feline companion. (Before the hurricanes, I had two cats.   Not that they got along, but at least they had each other to torment.  I had to have the older of the two "put to sleep" between Frances and Jeanne. I'm not sure of her age but we had her for 17 years.)

I have had dogs all my life and I love them as much as cats, but Katie came to our backyard and somehow stayed.  The first time I saw her, she was playing with her food... a field mouse.

She proved to be friendly and somehow became a member of the family.  It was my Dad who decided that we would not take her to the pound.  "They just end up putting cats to sleep," he noted.   She rewarded him later by having five kittens under his bed.

She was tick bitten and wormy at first, but with care and veterinary help, she became a beautiful friend and a good mother as well.

We had a dog, a shepherd/collie mix, also a once-in-a-lifetime pet, that was acutely interested in the kittens.  Poor Katie couldn't settle her brood in one place to long because the dog  would find them and stick her cold nose into the squirming mass.

I do think the dog and cat like each other, or at least gave each other obeisance.  They seemed to have an understanding and would pause to turn nose-to-nose sometimes.  The cat knew the dog wouldn't hurt her and they both watched warily when a bobcat would pass through the yard.

The cat would sound the alert with a deep growl and bristling fur from her place on a window ledge.  The dog would move to the screen, and I... would move to the dog to keep her steady and quiet.

The dog (Tiffany was the name she had when we brought her home from the pound: she acquired other appelations as our fondness for her grew.) started growing her legend almost as soon as she came to live with us. It began when she alerted my mother's nurse to a rattlesnake crossing by her car by barking and virtually hopping up and down on the ramp into the house.  We didn't understand why the dog was freaking out until a slanty head slid from under a ring of lantana and grew longer and longer.  Anancient rattler, very long, slipped menacingly across the sandy drive and slowly vanished into a stand of wild ginger.

The nurse and the dog became fast friends.

My Dad went and got his pistol which was loaded with snake shot, and fired into the plants.  I can almost see the snake rolling its narrow eyes.

 

A Joshism

Someday my friend Josh will be revered due to the dissemination of his thoughts over the Internet.  He said something I really liked and I want to put it here for your enjoyment.  Hopefully, he won't sue me for it!

"The law of magnetism states opposites attract.  Here's a bit of information you forget: what can destroy magnetism?  Answer: heat.  What is one source of heat?  Friction.  Too much friction produces enough heat to destroy attraction."

I tell ya', the boy's a freakin' genius.  I'd buy stock in him.

Here's a link to my pal's witticisms.  http://jliller.ontheweb.nu/   His best stuff needs directions:  go to the bottom of his page and click on "About Me" then click in Live Journal on the next page.  The other things are plenty fun, too.

 

POSTSCRIPT: 2/13/2005  I did ask Josh for permission and he said the things in his journal were "fair game."  Snot!  What he shoulda said was, "Oh!  I am so honored!" ;o)

Saturday Night

A full day.  I worked both paying jobs today.  I have a third one.  Sometimes I get cash for it, sometimes just dinner out of it.

I have two jobs but it amounts to nothing.

I am thinking it is time to change from my main job...  it is becoming more rigorously structured and unpermissive.  I need a job that allows creativity, not a tight structure that fails to allow thinking for one's self.  This primary job is bureaucratic to the max.  Each branch of the system must be standardized and served by automatons.

How do you win in a system like this?  Some strategies:                                           

1.  Be cheerful.  Try to help yor co-workers keep their spirits up.

2. Abide primarily by the rules but be willing to bend them for the sake of the customer.

3. Stand your ground when common sense answers are available, when decisions manifest absurdities which can be improved upon.

4. You will not be appreciated by a machine.   Be yourself and stick up for yourself.

5.  Own responsibility for your mistakes.

6.  Do the tasks you hate to do and get them over with.

7. Speak your mind to the boss inspite of any fear you may have.

I keep thinking about quitting the second job, but I'm good at it and it helps me a little.  It doesn't matter so much that though I am very trusted at that job I am not honored with commensurate pay.  I go there and see the foolish things that scores of passing-through workers do.  It would benefit the place to establish real standards and expect its workers to abide by them.  Workers need to be listened to, considered, respected and paid according to merit.

new thing 1/5/2005

I found a great chatroom tonight/ this morning.  I had fun talking and reading and fell asleep and woke up and they were still having a blast.  I encouraged two of the people there to get together and they will in March.  Yea!

In other news, I've got someone new on my mind.  I haven't met her yet, but I think a meeting may happen if I don't somehow scare her off.

"What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."  Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Several things are running through my mind, but at 5 in the a.m. sleep is pushing my eyelids down.  Today will be a long working day.

 

Comments

If you have anything to say or any thoughts on my journal entries, I welcome them. Please feel free, even of you think it may be inane.

 

after midnight

OK, I'm attracted to someone who will probably be bad for me.  Two out of three generally are.

She fits the smart pre-requisite, but I think I will feel like a troll next to her professional demeanor and shiny white teeth.

I have much more braggadocio when I write than when I am in person.  It takes a while for me to warm up enough to let loose.

And I have an unfortunate tendency to leap into bed with people.  Bad!  Bad!

But then again I have seen her face.  This face of mine comes close to breaking cameras, but more and more I want to have a picture to send.

We got the on-going acne, big ol' pores, crooked broken jaw, scars on the chin, less-than-white teeth, wild hair, ruddy, weather-beaten combination skin, stinky feet... an aesthetic ruffian.  Then again, at least once a year someone finds me charming enough to date me for a spell... until for one reason or another, they freak.

I challenge anyone with a theory about pre-destination and a knowledge of my history to weigh in on this.

And I have to find a way to get a picture up to send.

journaling

Wednesday night

I don't feel much like writing.  I am online and just my friend dawg is on.  She is half my age but good to talk to.  Someone online complimented this journal.  That was nice...  I dont think it's so special.  I could do better and write much more.  I'm just lazy.

I'm happy that I'm not feeling compelled to write about (or to) V.   I'm getting her out of my system.  I think sending that letter, whether she got it or not, was good... for me at least.

So here's the deal: I'm in no way wealthy.  I own my car but have no other assets.  I work hard.  I'm lazy.  I'm creative and resourceful.  I'm not pretty... and I have a bad complexion, but people do not turn away in horror when they see me.

I pretty much know who I am and I do not have much baggage other than working poverty and a very interesting step-family.

I am loyal and loving.  My friends tell me that I am kind to a fault, to my own detriment.  But I am toughening up.  I'm more guarded, especially after V.  That isn't necessarily a bad thing.

I have friends who I know are friends.  I enjoy talking to people online.

I know what love is.   I an coming to understand what it isn't. 

I have a friend in this town, two actually.  I am lucky to have found two other lesbians in this very church-going town.

The one close to my age is cute, petite, smooth and soft-spoken.  I like her very much and I'm not rushing anything with her.  If I had my druthers, and if this place was clean, and if I was that ballsy, I'd ask her over to cuddle!

The other is a grandmother, an intelligent woman who is very ill.  We can't seem to get ourselves together to hang out.  I wish that I could get both of these friends to meet.  I could kill two birds with one stone that way.

I enjoy meeting people online because if I can't hook up then maybe I can play match-maker.  It's so hard for lesbians to meet, especially in this county, in this state.  I want to get out more and meet women.  But where can you go that isn't a bar or a gay church (and thank God those things are available within an hours drive of here in either direction.) 

I have something to offer:   Sincerity.  Trustworthiness. Flexibility.  A loyal kind of Love.  And didI menion owning all six seasons of  Xena: Warrior Princess on DVD?!  Love that Gabrielle!

I adore animals and love to stay in bed.

Lately I have had notions of going to meet people I've met on line, and not for a game of tiddly-winks, either.  It's a good thing I have shyness stopping me from god-only-knows what kind of trouble.

I am attracted to intelligent, witty, gentle women.  And anyone in the know can tell you that I like a woman with some meat on her bones.  Although I would not discriminate if I found myself attracted to someone who is fit or even skinny.

My prerequisite for a relationship; they have to at least pretend that they like me.  Being a good kisser helps, too.

I don't like being called dirty names in bed.  If you wanna slap my ass as a surprise or lick champagne and strawberries off my body, well, I can go for that.  Nasty talk, on the other hand, just shuts me down.

I'm getting spacey and starting to crash.  More later!

 

Smarts Cars come to the US!

60 mpg!  What more do I have to say?!

An overview of the car and it's features from the LA Times:

http://www.latimes.com/classified/automotive/highway1/la-hy-neil9feb09,0,1307611.story?coll=la-home-highway1

A link to the Zap! site:

<img src='http://www.zapworld.com/bizopp/images/banner2.gif'>

 

OK here's what I have to say... these cars are rolling the streets of Europe.  "bout frigging time we got 'em here, since the gas industry has the auto industry by the balls and the American public is a bunch of bullying, ego-maniacal, unthinking, SUV-driving peckerheads.

Get with the program!

2/?/2005

I only know its Wednesday.  I don't know if its the first or the second.

Wait!  I have the technology!  (We call it a calendar.  In hard copy, yet.)

 OK, it's Groundhog's Day.  Wonder what happened in Punxsutawney today.  The winter has been harsh up north... bet he saw his shadow.  Yep.  I looked at Google News.  I was right.  Six more weeks of winter.

And it is my cousin Debbie's birthday.  She is an Air Force Rocket Scientist with a big rank and a big paycheck.  She was out of the Air Force, but she went back. She didn't like working for private companies -- people so rich the loss of milions of dollars of equipment meant nothing to them.

She is a Gulf War veteran.  I'm proud of her.  She was somehow spared from being in the Pentagon on "9/11."  Apparently there is a Science Building away from the building, and that's where she was that day.

I love her wit.  She says if rockets don't fly right, its not a flaw, its a "feature."

I have to stop writing and send her an e-card.  Lots to do yet before I go to work at 11.

Peace!

And Liz... if you're checking in on me...  please contact me.  A computer snafu ruined our talk last night!