Attached, please find the Bitter Bitches Club Application. Potential members must complete all fields prior to submission.
1. Have you been in a string of what could be termed negative relationships?
2. Have you had more than two negative relationships in a row?
3. Are you over the age of twenty five?
4. Do you own more than one pet?
5. Are you partial to cats or dogs?
6. Do you find that men say you make a great friend, but that you are not someone they would date? (this is man speak for: you are someone I'd shag if drunk, but not someone I'd take home to meet mommy)
7. Have you ever unknowingly dated someone with a criminal record/history of unemployment/who was married?
LG, Angel....any other questions?
20070629
BBC
Ladies of the blog o sphere:
Angel of Durham, LG and I have formed a club....a drumroll here would be appropriate.
We've decided to call it the B B C.
No, not for the network, or for...what is that...BBC Radio 1?
It's the Bitter Bitches Club! Membership applications may be filed with any of the three of us, and applications will be seriously studied. Hazing is, of course, to be expected.
Welcome, Angel, to the Blogworld! Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to offend/annoy/irritate/make people think as much as you possibly can!
Angel of Durham, LG and I have formed a club....a drumroll here would be appropriate.
We've decided to call it the B B C.
No, not for the network, or for...what is that...BBC Radio 1?
It's the Bitter Bitches Club! Membership applications may be filed with any of the three of us, and applications will be seriously studied. Hazing is, of course, to be expected.
Welcome, Angel, to the Blogworld! Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to offend/annoy/irritate/make people think as much as you possibly can!
20070628
20070626
Dear World: I am tired unto my marrow, as they say (whomever they are).
What I wish would happen, at about seven forty seven tonight, will not happen. No one is a mind reader.
This treble...waltz I am currently engaged in becomes wearisome, and swings from wild happiness to ridiculous anger. I am frankly at a loss; what does one do? so many paths, and only one really under one's control.
And I am a reflection of myself within myself, many many times over, focused down to the narrowest...me. And in this I am nothing. Every nick, every experience, every memory is ingrained in my very core like scales on a fish, making up the whole me as a skin. No one part can be excised without exposing another. So do forgive me my weaknesses, my insecurities, my absolute inability to be transparent. Forgive the fuck out of me.
What the hell was that?
What I wish would happen, at about seven forty seven tonight, will not happen. No one is a mind reader.
This treble...waltz I am currently engaged in becomes wearisome, and swings from wild happiness to ridiculous anger. I am frankly at a loss; what does one do? so many paths, and only one really under one's control.
And I am a reflection of myself within myself, many many times over, focused down to the narrowest...me. And in this I am nothing. Every nick, every experience, every memory is ingrained in my very core like scales on a fish, making up the whole me as a skin. No one part can be excised without exposing another. So do forgive me my weaknesses, my insecurities, my absolute inability to be transparent. Forgive the fuck out of me.
What the hell was that?
In fact, morning has dawned with the utter surety that I do, indeed, have stupid written in invisible ink on my forehead. I must have an inability to learn from ANY past mistake. Here I am thinking that I am being kind and compassionate and understanding but instead I have things all completely freaking wrong and just manage to make things worse and upset myself in the process. Whatever. It’s a fine freaking line for me too, and I don’t like it one bit. I do not like to share – at all. Heck, based on my past experiences, HAVING to share makes me really self conscious and paranoid and suspicious. And full of doubt and anxiety, which makes me not pleasant to be around. I am making a conscious effort to overcome that, which is difficult, and I do not think I’m getting any points for that effort, or that it is being noticed at all.
Why is being happy so complex? Should it be?
Somehow I don’t think so.
Why is being happy so complex? Should it be?
Somehow I don’t think so.
20070625
20070624
I'm having a bad case of baby itis.
And I can't sleep, even though I'm exhausted. The dogs are merrily slumbering away. I'm very tired...and instead of sleeping I am reclining here in my bed thinking alternately of sex, the fact that Great Big Sea played at Glastonbury, that I'd really like a Hot Fudge Sundae from McDonald's, and that I really should have made myself work in the backyard today rather than indolently lounging in my bed like some overfed and jewel bedecked pasha.
And I can't sleep, even though I'm exhausted. The dogs are merrily slumbering away. I'm very tired...and instead of sleeping I am reclining here in my bed thinking alternately of sex, the fact that Great Big Sea played at Glastonbury, that I'd really like a Hot Fudge Sundae from McDonald's, and that I really should have made myself work in the backyard today rather than indolently lounging in my bed like some overfed and jewel bedecked pasha.
20070622
Sell By Date
Do relationships have a sell by date?
Do you, dear readers, have a timeline in your mind that says if you haven't crossed a certain milestone by a certain time, it's time to get out of the relationship? I don't mean the silly ones, like if someone hasn't held your hand by the fourth date (or whatever), I mean the big ones. Like...if you've been dating happily for two years, do you live together? Buy a house? Share silverware? Use the same tube of toothpaste? Do you get engaged? How long do you stay engaged before getting married? You know, timelines (I can't help it, I'm a reformed project manager).
I know that the trend in European countries is to NOT get married, but to cohabitate and have a family without making it official. I met a number of couples who had been living together for ten or fifteen years, and had children, and who were quite happy unwed. I wonder why they are so comfortable without the ring/paper when we are not? Social pressure? Any ideas?
Why do we as a culture fish and cut bait? Is this purely a female trend? Do men do this as well?
I mean, I'm getting old (er) and am well aware that I am running out of time to be farting around. The timeline I had for myself in my twenties: married at twenty seven, first child at thirty, second child at thirty three....well, we all know how that worked out. I hit the first one all right...so now I have to reevaluate. Do I have a sell by date? I wonder....
Do you, dear readers, have a timeline in your mind that says if you haven't crossed a certain milestone by a certain time, it's time to get out of the relationship? I don't mean the silly ones, like if someone hasn't held your hand by the fourth date (or whatever), I mean the big ones. Like...if you've been dating happily for two years, do you live together? Buy a house? Share silverware? Use the same tube of toothpaste? Do you get engaged? How long do you stay engaged before getting married? You know, timelines (I can't help it, I'm a reformed project manager).
I know that the trend in European countries is to NOT get married, but to cohabitate and have a family without making it official. I met a number of couples who had been living together for ten or fifteen years, and had children, and who were quite happy unwed. I wonder why they are so comfortable without the ring/paper when we are not? Social pressure? Any ideas?
Why do we as a culture fish and cut bait? Is this purely a female trend? Do men do this as well?
I mean, I'm getting old (er) and am well aware that I am running out of time to be farting around. The timeline I had for myself in my twenties: married at twenty seven, first child at thirty, second child at thirty three....well, we all know how that worked out. I hit the first one all right...so now I have to reevaluate. Do I have a sell by date? I wonder....
Shalom in the Home
The joys of not feeling well.
I'm watching Shalom in the Home today, and I hear a man say in his wife's presence "Yes, I think I married beneath me". And when she started to cry, he did nothing to comfort her at all. He didn't care. He just looked out into space. He then says "all my friends have wives who are more efficient in the wife department". What does that mean? I interpret that to mean that while this particular wife does a great job at keeping the house clean and keeping them fed and clothed, she doesn't spend any time with him. Why can't he just say that, instead of saying "I married beneath me". How hateful!
I'm watching Shalom in the Home today, and I hear a man say in his wife's presence "Yes, I think I married beneath me". And when she started to cry, he did nothing to comfort her at all. He didn't care. He just looked out into space. He then says "all my friends have wives who are more efficient in the wife department". What does that mean? I interpret that to mean that while this particular wife does a great job at keeping the house clean and keeping them fed and clothed, she doesn't spend any time with him. Why can't he just say that, instead of saying "I married beneath me". How hateful!
I had quite forgotten the peculiar pain of having a urinary tract infection until this week.
It's a sensation I could have lived without having forever.
Think of a time when you've sliced a jalepeno and accidentally touched something important. Imagine that sensation lingering for a loooonnnnngggg time. Better yet, when you have that ear infection that snuck up on you, and you have that deep scary pain that jolts you out of your sleep in the middle of the dark night and won't let you rest? Yeah, something like that.
It's not like your bladder is a part of your body that you are normally aware of...like...say, your arm. No, it's not something you think of every day. You just think "hey, I have to pee" and then you take care of it. Having a UTI means suddenly that you think about your bladder every single time you MOVE, and it is most distressing. It throbs, which is bad. And you also run a fever, so all and all it sucks.
Sleeping is fun. Unless you take something to sleep, you lay in bed going "do I really have to pee? do I really or is it just in my head?" until finally you give up and toddle to the bathroom to try and pee. Tylenol PM was invented just for this purpose (I swear!). But sleep is the only time you aren't thinking of your bladder.
Blessedly, I was fortunate not to have dreams of dancing bladders. That would have driven me over the edge.
It's a sensation I could have lived without having forever.
Think of a time when you've sliced a jalepeno and accidentally touched something important. Imagine that sensation lingering for a loooonnnnngggg time. Better yet, when you have that ear infection that snuck up on you, and you have that deep scary pain that jolts you out of your sleep in the middle of the dark night and won't let you rest? Yeah, something like that.
It's not like your bladder is a part of your body that you are normally aware of...like...say, your arm. No, it's not something you think of every day. You just think "hey, I have to pee" and then you take care of it. Having a UTI means suddenly that you think about your bladder every single time you MOVE, and it is most distressing. It throbs, which is bad. And you also run a fever, so all and all it sucks.
Sleeping is fun. Unless you take something to sleep, you lay in bed going "do I really have to pee? do I really or is it just in my head?" until finally you give up and toddle to the bathroom to try and pee. Tylenol PM was invented just for this purpose (I swear!). But sleep is the only time you aren't thinking of your bladder.
Blessedly, I was fortunate not to have dreams of dancing bladders. That would have driven me over the edge.
20070621
Ladies of the blogworld, I have a question for you.
When dating, and going through your list of “ratings” for your dates, do you factor in a man’s ability to be a good provider?
My grandmother and I were having this conversation recently. I’m of the opinion that men of my generation were not raised to be providers, but partners (which is why you don’t meet many men in my age bracket who are in that particular role). Grandmom is of the opinion that men of my generation are both lazy and spoiled, and have had everything handed to them by their mothers and later girlfriends and wives, and have not had to work as hard as their fathers and grandfathers to support a family. I’m sure both of us have valid points.
However, someone’s ability to be a provider doesn’t even enter into my top ten. It’s not even in my top twenty. And it seems so old fashioned and….chattel like. Provider.
I told grandmom that I look for a partner, someone who has similar life goals, who has a similar background, education, family life, economic status, and who is really interested in having a real relationship in which both parties are equal. Not one in which the woman does all the traditional womanly things and the man mows the grass and changes the oil, but where the both of you do what needs to be done. Make sense?
What about you men out there? What do you consider when dating women? Would you date or even consider dating a woman who was totally bust ass broke?
When dating, and going through your list of “ratings” for your dates, do you factor in a man’s ability to be a good provider?
My grandmother and I were having this conversation recently. I’m of the opinion that men of my generation were not raised to be providers, but partners (which is why you don’t meet many men in my age bracket who are in that particular role). Grandmom is of the opinion that men of my generation are both lazy and spoiled, and have had everything handed to them by their mothers and later girlfriends and wives, and have not had to work as hard as their fathers and grandfathers to support a family. I’m sure both of us have valid points.
However, someone’s ability to be a provider doesn’t even enter into my top ten. It’s not even in my top twenty. And it seems so old fashioned and….chattel like. Provider.
I told grandmom that I look for a partner, someone who has similar life goals, who has a similar background, education, family life, economic status, and who is really interested in having a real relationship in which both parties are equal. Not one in which the woman does all the traditional womanly things and the man mows the grass and changes the oil, but where the both of you do what needs to be done. Make sense?
What about you men out there? What do you consider when dating women? Would you date or even consider dating a woman who was totally bust ass broke?
Once in a great while, I become convinced that the god of email is playing a large cosmic joke on me. I can go for months and months with no ads for viagra, cialias, penis pumps, breast cream, anal bleaching kits, and all manner and sundry of disgusting porn. Months, I tell you. Then like the floodgates have been quite blown to smithereens, my inbox will be flooded with all manner of revolting, badly spelled, grammatically incorrect and anatomically impossible porn, all describing acts that are illegal in the U.S. and banned in most religious works. So I add filters, anti porn ware software, etc., etc. to no avail. I am doomed, I say, doomed, to be drowned in misspelled smut.
So I've coined a new word...at least, I hope it's new.
SPORN - spam, porn. SPORN.
So I've coined a new word...at least, I hope it's new.
SPORN - spam, porn. SPORN.
Vacuum cleaners really are worthless creatures. Really, they are. Think about it. You spend your good, hard earned money on something that kicks up dust and inevitably breaks at exactly the wrong time. Why is that? Why? Also, why does the hose never seem to have any suction? As in, to get it to pick anything up you virtually have to scrub whatever it is you are trying to clean? Why do all the attachments always fall off? When they do fall off, where do they go? Do you suppose everyone’s house has a secret room and attachments and those darn stray socks all escape there and perpetually party? And why are all vacuum cleaners (uprights) so wide? You can’t fit one on a step without it falling down, no matter how you set it. I would really like a Dyson; I have convinced myself that a $400 vacuum cleaner is the way to go. Why…I have no idea. Probably for the same reason that I’m convinced an expensive car or an expensive television is of a better, more reliable quality than a less expensive model. And is it truly so? Or if I spend that $400 on that Dyson, will I still have my annual doorstop, albeit one of a $400 variety versus one of a $60 variety (Vacuum Cleaner Deathmatch: Dyson versus Hoover)? At least then it would be a pretty color.
People? You do know that when you buy that shiny red/blue/platinum colored washer or dryer, you really are paying $400 more JUST FOR THE COLOR.
Just checking.
People? You do know that when you buy that shiny red/blue/platinum colored washer or dryer, you really are paying $400 more JUST FOR THE COLOR.
Just checking.
20070620
Nosy Parkers
Some people have nothing better to do with their sad little lives than to poke their noses into other people's business and offer unwarranted, unsolicited and often completely irrelevant advice.
To wit...recently, I was at a local home (repair) store, and overheard the following conversation between two apparent strangers. To give you some context, one lady was a bit younger than myself, very heavily pregnant, and obviously doing some solo plumbing repair. The lady doing most of the speaking was older (and pompous).
Older lady to younger lady (in checkout line) "I see you are doing some plumbing repair. Did your husband send you off to get some parts?"
Younger lady "I'm not married"
Older lady "Oh. Well, where's the baby's father?"
Younger lady (turning red but still being polite) "We're not together"
Older lady "The things you people do in this age".
Now. Seriously.
There is polite conversation, and then there is blatant rudeness. In three sentences, this older lady managed to insult this woman quite thoroughly. First by implying that a woman can't do her own plumbing repair (I can, although not well), second the whole you need a husband to be pregnant thing, thirdly by managing to insult by saying without saying that having a child out of wedlock is wrong. What is wrong with this woman? What does she know about the other woman's circumstance? Maybe her husband left her, and they are now divorced? Maybe she had a boyfriend, or a fiancee, and he died? Maybe she got pregnant, wanted to keep the child (for personal/religious reasons) and her male friend didn't, and left?
The point is, the older woman's snap judgement made no accomodation for any circumstance in this young woman's life. She looked at her pregnant belly, presumably her ring finger and made the worst possible social assessment. What the FUCK gave her the right to do that? Who died and made her god?
I really do believe you should refrain from judging other folk until you have walked a mile in their shoes. Otherwise, shut your mouth.
To wit...recently, I was at a local home (repair) store, and overheard the following conversation between two apparent strangers. To give you some context, one lady was a bit younger than myself, very heavily pregnant, and obviously doing some solo plumbing repair. The lady doing most of the speaking was older (and pompous).
Older lady to younger lady (in checkout line) "I see you are doing some plumbing repair. Did your husband send you off to get some parts?"
Younger lady "I'm not married"
Older lady "Oh. Well, where's the baby's father?"
Younger lady (turning red but still being polite) "We're not together"
Older lady "The things you people do in this age".
Now. Seriously.
There is polite conversation, and then there is blatant rudeness. In three sentences, this older lady managed to insult this woman quite thoroughly. First by implying that a woman can't do her own plumbing repair (I can, although not well), second the whole you need a husband to be pregnant thing, thirdly by managing to insult by saying without saying that having a child out of wedlock is wrong. What is wrong with this woman? What does she know about the other woman's circumstance? Maybe her husband left her, and they are now divorced? Maybe she had a boyfriend, or a fiancee, and he died? Maybe she got pregnant, wanted to keep the child (for personal/religious reasons) and her male friend didn't, and left?
The point is, the older woman's snap judgement made no accomodation for any circumstance in this young woman's life. She looked at her pregnant belly, presumably her ring finger and made the worst possible social assessment. What the FUCK gave her the right to do that? Who died and made her god?
I really do believe you should refrain from judging other folk until you have walked a mile in their shoes. Otherwise, shut your mouth.
20070619
20070617
I can tell I was tired...I re-read last night's post, and I had several misspellings....
Well, the weekend was good. Three dogs and one puppy, and only one accident. Gryffd is SOOOO cute. I don't really like Corgi's, but Gryffd made me reconsider. I only hammered my finger once, but did manage to swear in three languages and quite loudly. I learned how to do quite a number of things; I've never been very confident with a saw, I am now much better. I can hang siding like a pro (hardiplank anyway...we all know I can rip it off like a madwoman). I can certainly swear like a professional contractor. I do have some poison ivy in the back yard (and to think that two years ago I'm pretty sure I ripped it out with gloves and shoved it into a bag) that I need to get rid of. It's coming over the fence from the neighbors yard. I also need to go to another neighbor (the nice lady) and ask her if I can come over and jack up our shared fence, as a section has decided to dangerously lean into my half of the yard. I share my backyard with six families (I have a cul de sac lot)....so I have yet another family to talk to about their two dead fifty foot pine trees that are in danger of whacking my house. Joys! See why I want to move to the country and have a farm house....?
Not that there are many arborists reading my blog...but...I have two small...maybe twenty year old dogwoods in my backyard that are taking the drought bad...they are dropping deadleaf already. Should I: cut off the dead limbs, let the deadleaf drop and leave it alone, leave the entire tree alone until next year? Any ideas?
Well, the weekend was good. Three dogs and one puppy, and only one accident. Gryffd is SOOOO cute. I don't really like Corgi's, but Gryffd made me reconsider. I only hammered my finger once, but did manage to swear in three languages and quite loudly. I learned how to do quite a number of things; I've never been very confident with a saw, I am now much better. I can hang siding like a pro (hardiplank anyway...we all know I can rip it off like a madwoman). I can certainly swear like a professional contractor. I do have some poison ivy in the back yard (and to think that two years ago I'm pretty sure I ripped it out with gloves and shoved it into a bag) that I need to get rid of. It's coming over the fence from the neighbors yard. I also need to go to another neighbor (the nice lady) and ask her if I can come over and jack up our shared fence, as a section has decided to dangerously lean into my half of the yard. I share my backyard with six families (I have a cul de sac lot)....so I have yet another family to talk to about their two dead fifty foot pine trees that are in danger of whacking my house. Joys! See why I want to move to the country and have a farm house....?
Not that there are many arborists reading my blog...but...I have two small...maybe twenty year old dogwoods in my backyard that are taking the drought bad...they are dropping deadleaf already. Should I: cut off the dead limbs, let the deadleaf drop and leave it alone, leave the entire tree alone until next year? Any ideas?
20070616
Well, Dad and I have been busting ass since 8.33 AM this morning working on the columns on the front porch - and they have all been replaced with beautiful new, simple, clean columns. Nothing fruity, nothing ornate...just...simple. We then moved on to the back, cutting out the rotted wood and patching the crap that was bad, and putting up new siding on the addition (not that I added it, mind you, I would never be so stupid as to put a slab addition on a crawl house).
I am dead dog tired.
For his efforts, and because it's Father's Day tomorrow, Dad got a kick ass leather toolbelt for big people. I got the little tiny people version, which is still a bit too bit and falls off it I put my hammer in it, but is still quite righteous for nails, my tape measure, and my handy dandy knife.
I am dead dog tired.
For his efforts, and because it's Father's Day tomorrow, Dad got a kick ass leather toolbelt for big people. I got the little tiny people version, which is still a bit too bit and falls off it I put my hammer in it, but is still quite righteous for nails, my tape measure, and my handy dandy knife.
People have often commented on the fact that I still wear a ring (or honestly, between one and three) on my ring finger even though I am no longer married.
"Eliza" they say "why on earth would you want to do that? Why would you want people to think you are married?"
I'm then forced to explain that it's not so much that I think I want people to think I'm married, no, that's not it at all.
You see, I've named one particular ring "Eliza's Folly" and I wear it frequently to remind myself not to make stupid, enormous, monumental, life altering mistakes. If it's on my ring finger, every time I look at a poofy white dress and cast about for the nearest clean (ish) single male, looking at the ring reminds me to stop. Everytime I see a cute, quiet, squeaky clean baby, looking at the ring reminds me to stop casting about for a potential donor. Everytime I go to a wedding, or encounter a newly engaged couple, or have to buy a wedding gift, or go to a sappy movie...I mean, you get the idea. It's like those shock collars for barking dogs, only this hurt my wallet and not my neck.
Back to the old grindstone.
"Eliza" they say "why on earth would you want to do that? Why would you want people to think you are married?"
I'm then forced to explain that it's not so much that I think I want people to think I'm married, no, that's not it at all.
You see, I've named one particular ring "Eliza's Folly" and I wear it frequently to remind myself not to make stupid, enormous, monumental, life altering mistakes. If it's on my ring finger, every time I look at a poofy white dress and cast about for the nearest clean (ish) single male, looking at the ring reminds me to stop. Everytime I see a cute, quiet, squeaky clean baby, looking at the ring reminds me to stop casting about for a potential donor. Everytime I go to a wedding, or encounter a newly engaged couple, or have to buy a wedding gift, or go to a sappy movie...I mean, you get the idea. It's like those shock collars for barking dogs, only this hurt my wallet and not my neck.
Back to the old grindstone.
20070614
So everyone wants to know about the trip.
I’ll never, ever make that drive again. It was hideous, arduous even, filled with construction, law enforcement, uneven pavement, a dead deer, south Georgia rednecks, stupid drivers, me, my passengers, and a jeep full of crap. I am one of those people who under normal circumstances (read: alone) does not stop on a trip except to refuel. These were not normal circumstances, and the trip felt like it took forever.
We did finally make it to my aunt’s house after a never ending drive, only to hop back in the car and go in search of food. My uncle was kind enough to provide us with a dining recommendation AND a map. I was fairly certain I remembered enough of the city from my one and only visit to get us to the place; I just wasn’t counting on the sudden summer downpour ruining what little night vision I had. Yes, I got us totally and completely lost. We drove around for an entire hour, in about the same five mile radius (ironically, we were only about three miles south of where we needed to be, and on the same freaking road as the restaurant…I figured this out two days later). I did finally make it back into town, and went to the only restaurant still open, a place I had been to previously, and enjoyed one of the worst, most tasteless meals of my life, enjoyed in an hour of utter silence. We then backtracked completely and went out for a stroll on the beach, and drove all the way back out to my aunt and uncles and passed out.
Ah, how eventful!
The trip did indeed improve. Spent much time wandering around the old city, which is quite lovely and rather quaint. Am attaching some pictures. Too lazy to write. Attaching pictures of the fort and bay as well, and the beach, and the funniest motel in the world. Missed the shuttle launch. Went fishing twice and caught not a damn thing – the Curse of Eliza and the Pier Continues! Swam, played in the ocean, walked forever, got burnt, did not touch my book at all, didn’t get much sleep, stayed up way too late every night, but overall had a pretty good time.
So below are photos. They tell a better story than I feel like writing.
Drive back however was made in RECORD time. Amazing what a horrid sunburn and a serious lead foot motivates a person to do.
I’ll never, ever make that drive again. It was hideous, arduous even, filled with construction, law enforcement, uneven pavement, a dead deer, south Georgia rednecks, stupid drivers, me, my passengers, and a jeep full of crap. I am one of those people who under normal circumstances (read: alone) does not stop on a trip except to refuel. These were not normal circumstances, and the trip felt like it took forever.
We did finally make it to my aunt’s house after a never ending drive, only to hop back in the car and go in search of food. My uncle was kind enough to provide us with a dining recommendation AND a map. I was fairly certain I remembered enough of the city from my one and only visit to get us to the place; I just wasn’t counting on the sudden summer downpour ruining what little night vision I had. Yes, I got us totally and completely lost. We drove around for an entire hour, in about the same five mile radius (ironically, we were only about three miles south of where we needed to be, and on the same freaking road as the restaurant…I figured this out two days later). I did finally make it back into town, and went to the only restaurant still open, a place I had been to previously, and enjoyed one of the worst, most tasteless meals of my life, enjoyed in an hour of utter silence. We then backtracked completely and went out for a stroll on the beach, and drove all the way back out to my aunt and uncles and passed out.
Ah, how eventful!
The trip did indeed improve. Spent much time wandering around the old city, which is quite lovely and rather quaint. Am attaching some pictures. Too lazy to write. Attaching pictures of the fort and bay as well, and the beach, and the funniest motel in the world. Missed the shuttle launch. Went fishing twice and caught not a damn thing – the Curse of Eliza and the Pier Continues! Swam, played in the ocean, walked forever, got burnt, did not touch my book at all, didn’t get much sleep, stayed up way too late every night, but overall had a pretty good time.
So below are photos. They tell a better story than I feel like writing.
Drive back however was made in RECORD time. Amazing what a horrid sunburn and a serious lead foot motivates a person to do.
St. Augustine
Ah, blue skies, Barfy Burgers, Girls!!! (now, kids, date yourselves, and tell me what tv show that's from?)
Here I am, in jail...of course I'm kidding. It should be...here I am, in a powder magazine, that dates back to the 1600's, and was smelly and dark and required me to crawl through a two foot high small little tunnel thingie. I was not impressed. People sure were small four hundred years ago.
The last time I was down here, I saw this hotel but didn't have a camera so I was on a quest to find it. I find this to be the absolute pinnacle of ironic sleazy hotel signs - look closely to the left, and you will see a magic hat. BTW, it really is a flop house.
I just like the detail on this cannon. It's purely for show. It's a 50lb shot cannon, which is quite squat, and facing the wrong damn way on the fort, as well as facing a solid wall. Silly, really.
Now that's what I call a cannon. Note that this cannon IS facing the right way.
City street. Nothing witty here. Keep moving.
A little vineyard. The light was much better than you see here. Really.
I want this sign, I really do.
20070611
Alright, people, just a brief hello.
Back from the trip. Never ever making that drive again. It just reinforced my trip philosophy - longer than five hours, take a freaking airplane. No rain (good), no mosquitos (good), no headache (new drugs work great), grandmom fell but didn't break anything (ok), didn't catch one damn fish (bad), got horridly sunburnt on the last day (bad), didn't sleep worth a crap any single night (bad), need a vacation from my vacation (worse!!!!).
But St. Augustine is absolutely beautiful. And having gotten lost a million times, I now can say with certainty I know my way around every inch of the old city, and the A1A! Have eaten myself into a seafood coma (and I can most certainly tell). Scallops at Columbia....yum!
Pictures forthcoming at some damn point.
Back from the trip. Never ever making that drive again. It just reinforced my trip philosophy - longer than five hours, take a freaking airplane. No rain (good), no mosquitos (good), no headache (new drugs work great), grandmom fell but didn't break anything (ok), didn't catch one damn fish (bad), got horridly sunburnt on the last day (bad), didn't sleep worth a crap any single night (bad), need a vacation from my vacation (worse!!!!).
But St. Augustine is absolutely beautiful. And having gotten lost a million times, I now can say with certainty I know my way around every inch of the old city, and the A1A! Have eaten myself into a seafood coma (and I can most certainly tell). Scallops at Columbia....yum!
Pictures forthcoming at some damn point.
20070605
Well, as I said I'm off to a much needed vacation tomorrow. I am very excited. I was MUCHO excited earlier but had a little damper thrown on my spirits. Alas, I will recover soon!
Maybe I will go and discover the Fountain of Youth - goodness knows I need it. This recent spate in the sun has left me with a sun spot on my nose. I might be making a vanity trip to the dermatologist soon. Yes, yes, I've packed sunblock and gone back to using facial moisturizer with spf 30.
So...sunny Florida, here I come! I have packed my books, my camera, my bathing suit, some clothes and am ready to head out the door. The dogs are being boarded (the Madster is getting fixed while I'm away to minimize mommy trauma), and the Cousin is watching the house.
On a side note...do you have certain people who only call you to whine? What do you do with those people? I shamefully confess that I let them go to voice mail.
Maybe I will go and discover the Fountain of Youth - goodness knows I need it. This recent spate in the sun has left me with a sun spot on my nose. I might be making a vanity trip to the dermatologist soon. Yes, yes, I've packed sunblock and gone back to using facial moisturizer with spf 30.
So...sunny Florida, here I come! I have packed my books, my camera, my bathing suit, some clothes and am ready to head out the door. The dogs are being boarded (the Madster is getting fixed while I'm away to minimize mommy trauma), and the Cousin is watching the house.
On a side note...do you have certain people who only call you to whine? What do you do with those people? I shamefully confess that I let them go to voice mail.
Freedom of Speech
We all have the right to it. We have the right to blather on like idiots, if we so chose, about topics on which we are poorly informed. We have the right to blog, and say silly or perverse or astute or snarky things. The media has a tendency to hide behind it. The government has a tendency to exploit it (hell, all governments d0). It's something we take for granted.
However, the downside of this is that people use this freedom to extend their speech into personal attacks on people. Not only does this negate any argument the person wishes to offer, it's downright rude. The person under attack has three choices: respond in kind, ignore the request, or wittly find some way to defuse the situation.
Just want to make sure that everyone understands that your free speech does have limits imposed on polite society, and that if you say something someone finds offensive or rude, you should be prepared to be corrected.
However, the downside of this is that people use this freedom to extend their speech into personal attacks on people. Not only does this negate any argument the person wishes to offer, it's downright rude. The person under attack has three choices: respond in kind, ignore the request, or wittly find some way to defuse the situation.
Just want to make sure that everyone understands that your free speech does have limits imposed on polite society, and that if you say something someone finds offensive or rude, you should be prepared to be corrected.
Out of Pocket
So I'll be out of pocket for a few days. Am very excited about my trip to St. Augustine. Spending time lolling in the sand, working on my skin cancer. Shopping. Being a tourist. Eating too much shrimp. Sleeping in. Doing whatever I want. Hee hee!
20070604
More Ren Fest
While all the other shots were snapped in anonymity....and of people I don't know, I DO know the folks here at the pub sing (family friends).
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