20070726
Reprehensible
Why does the penis govern the male brain? I really do want to know what makes it acceptable behavior for a man to decide to betray one woman by sleeping with another? I may be naive, but I do think that men do this to women more than women do this to men. And why lie about it? Why CONTINUOUSLY lie about it when asked? Don't have the cojones to fess up? Just curious.
Happiness
So, commenting on LimerickGal's post...
What is happiness?
Hm.
Simple, to me.
A quiet day.
Puppy kisses.
Sand beneath my toes.
The stars in the night sky.
Everything else is just....
nothing.
What is happiness?
Hm.
Simple, to me.
A quiet day.
Puppy kisses.
Sand beneath my toes.
The stars in the night sky.
Everything else is just....
nothing.
Pardon My French
But my cousin's ex boyfriend is a lilly livered, stupid, barbaric, moronic, fucking asshole! I hate to wish anyone ill, but seriously, that was the nastiest, meanest type of trick to ever play on anyone. I think all the girls in the family will collectively have an urge to do him some serious bodily harm.
So, cousin dearest, do not spend another microsecond wasting your thoughts on that waste of molecular space. Chalk it up to a lesson learned, and don't let your own self introspection turn this into something negative that you use to hurt yourself with. He is not worth the dirt on your shoe. Actually, he probably measures somewhere between pond scum and the funk that grows on the inside of a sewer pipe in the city central. Seriously, I wouldn't even let him take out my trash!
And if that fother mucker calls you again, hang up the damn phone! Better yet, get a new number!
So, cousin dearest, do not spend another microsecond wasting your thoughts on that waste of molecular space. Chalk it up to a lesson learned, and don't let your own self introspection turn this into something negative that you use to hurt yourself with. He is not worth the dirt on your shoe. Actually, he probably measures somewhere between pond scum and the funk that grows on the inside of a sewer pipe in the city central. Seriously, I wouldn't even let him take out my trash!
And if that fother mucker calls you again, hang up the damn phone! Better yet, get a new number!
20070725
20070724
Michael Vick
For once, I agree with PETA.
Yes, lightening did hit me in the head.
Michael Vick should be fired.
What kind of role model does he set? I don't care that he's an athelete, an entertainer, whatever, and should not be a role model. Fuck off. Anyone that's as public as he is just so happens to be a role model.
And what a role model. A dog fighting, dog killing, half assed quarterback with a rapists in the family tree.
And he's gonna continue to play for Atlanta?
Yes, lightening did hit me in the head.
Michael Vick should be fired.
What kind of role model does he set? I don't care that he's an athelete, an entertainer, whatever, and should not be a role model. Fuck off. Anyone that's as public as he is just so happens to be a role model.
And what a role model. A dog fighting, dog killing, half assed quarterback with a rapists in the family tree.
And he's gonna continue to play for Atlanta?
20070723
I cannot believe I’m having this conversation. When you are young, and stupid, you have sex for the novelty of it. Whenever you can, regardless of the quality of the experience.
As I have aged, I have realized that my mother was right.
Wow, I can’t believe I just said that.
It is absolutely worthless unless you are doing it with someone you love, and if not love, care for deeply. You have that trust – you know, being vulnerable, exposing yourself, relaxing your self control enough to enjoy the experience, etc. It’s just…better. More intense. I can’t speak for you, but I want it more. I want to touch more, and snuggle, and kiss. I can’t explain it, but I’m more giving…more…open.
Oh, that doesn't mean that I can't have sex if I don't love someone. I can; but you are leaving when it's over, and I won't ever really be engaged. My mind will be a million miles away or thinking of a million different things.
You know what? Without mutual love and respect I might as well be brushing my fucking teeth. So what’s the point then?
As I have aged, I have realized that my mother was right.
Wow, I can’t believe I just said that.
It is absolutely worthless unless you are doing it with someone you love, and if not love, care for deeply. You have that trust – you know, being vulnerable, exposing yourself, relaxing your self control enough to enjoy the experience, etc. It’s just…better. More intense. I can’t speak for you, but I want it more. I want to touch more, and snuggle, and kiss. I can’t explain it, but I’m more giving…more…open.
Oh, that doesn't mean that I can't have sex if I don't love someone. I can; but you are leaving when it's over, and I won't ever really be engaged. My mind will be a million miles away or thinking of a million different things.
You know what? Without mutual love and respect I might as well be brushing my fucking teeth. So what’s the point then?
Railroaded
Do people still come with ears and eyes?
Or did I miss some freak of evolution whereby we stopped having ears and eyes?
Some things have lately caught my eyes and ears, if no one else’s.
In our modern and ultra technological times, I think we’ve lost the ability to hear. No, I don’t mean that our ears have collectively dropped off of our heads! I mean that we’ve lost the capacity to really listen and understand what another person is saying. I feel like I’m really whistling into the wind; evidently I’m the only one who can hear myself!
When was the last time you sat down with a mate, your spouse, a good friend and really had a down to earth chat? Where you really got what the other person was feeling and thinking?
Or did I miss some freak of evolution whereby we stopped having ears and eyes?
Some things have lately caught my eyes and ears, if no one else’s.
In our modern and ultra technological times, I think we’ve lost the ability to hear. No, I don’t mean that our ears have collectively dropped off of our heads! I mean that we’ve lost the capacity to really listen and understand what another person is saying. I feel like I’m really whistling into the wind; evidently I’m the only one who can hear myself!
When was the last time you sat down with a mate, your spouse, a good friend and really had a down to earth chat? Where you really got what the other person was feeling and thinking?
20070722
This falls under the "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
Also know as wtf.
I laughed so hard, I had tears rolling down my face.
Also know as wtf.
I laughed so hard, I had tears rolling down my face.
20070720
M, F, or KIIIILLLLLLLLL
Right, LimerickGal and I are sitting here being sassy...and playing that all time classic of time wasting games...
Who would you Marry, Who Would you Fuck, and Who Would you KILLLLLLLLL!!!!!
For the purposes of this exercise, we have restricted ourselves to celebrities only.....
Angelina Jolie - Fuck. If I were a man, I'd make a crude observation about her lower lip. But I'm not, so I won't. Instead, I'll merely point out that I COULD make a crude observation, and leave it at that.
Titney Spears - Oh, Kill. Eviscerate. As a matter of fact, as LG just asked, I wouldn't even pity fuck her. Too many nasty, skanky miles on her.
Posh - I am creating a special fourth category just for a few people on our list. It's called Ass Fuck. 'Nuff said.
Paris Hilton - That's so NOT HAWT!
Nicole Kidman - Marry. Ummmmmm. Redheads. Aussie. Pale. *Shiver*
Ellen - You know, we had a heated debate over Ellen. Personally I think she was much funnier about ten years ago. But LG pointed out that she was quite rich, and comes already paired with her own personal Barbie (see below).
Portia DeRossi - oh - Fuck. Wait, do I hear the cows coming home? Why, I think I do?
Kate Beckinsdale - Marry, but only if she dresses like she did in Van Helsing. And wears that red ballgown. Grrrr.
Rosie O'Donnell - definitely dead. And with an apple in her mouth.
Johnny Depp - well, overrated...and he always looks like he needs a bath. So....fuck. Although he was rather adorable in Chocolat...
Orlando - Kill. He looked good as an elf. Otherwise, I wish he'd shave. And he whinges.
Hugh Jackman - Marry!!! (Dimples!)
Ewan - Marry!!!! (Dimples! and other things that shan't be mentioned here...family blog, you know)
Sean Bean - oh, fuck....if he wears the suit from Sharpe's Rifles.
Colin Firth - Marry. He's just too charming. Cute, funny, modest, charming, witty....shall I continue to nauseaute you?
Jack Black - funny man or no, disgusting. Kill. Slowly. Buried in the sand in the desert covered in honey. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Jemimma Rooper - Marry. She's a charming thing. Fetching. I love her.
Russell Crowe - kill
Christian Bale - hm. kill? Ambivalent there?
Ryan Seacrest, Simon Cowell, Hugh Grant go in the aforementioned Posh category. A F. No lube. P.S. I think Hugh Grant suffers from SDS.
Stuart Townsend - Marry. As Lestat! Does he come already paired with Charlize? that might be a double bonus?!!!
Daniel Craig/Adrian Brody - Fuck.
Jonas Armstrong - know who that is? Ah, then I won't tell ye my answer!
Colin Farrell/Tommy Lee/Leonardo DiCaprio - not even with a bath of lysol. Never, ever. How freaking disgusting.
Goran Visnjic - Practical Magic. ER. What's not to love? Even if he does wear his pants a bit too high.
Darling Limerick....your turn! Sidenote: the above answers are mine and mine alone. LG does not totally agree with me. In fact, her answers will be posted ala commentary....
Who would you Marry, Who Would you Fuck, and Who Would you KILLLLLLLLL!!!!!
For the purposes of this exercise, we have restricted ourselves to celebrities only.....
Angelina Jolie - Fuck. If I were a man, I'd make a crude observation about her lower lip. But I'm not, so I won't. Instead, I'll merely point out that I COULD make a crude observation, and leave it at that.
Titney Spears - Oh, Kill. Eviscerate. As a matter of fact, as LG just asked, I wouldn't even pity fuck her. Too many nasty, skanky miles on her.
Posh - I am creating a special fourth category just for a few people on our list. It's called Ass Fuck. 'Nuff said.
Paris Hilton - That's so NOT HAWT!
Nicole Kidman - Marry. Ummmmmm. Redheads. Aussie. Pale. *Shiver*
Ellen - You know, we had a heated debate over Ellen. Personally I think she was much funnier about ten years ago. But LG pointed out that she was quite rich, and comes already paired with her own personal Barbie (see below).
Portia DeRossi - oh - Fuck. Wait, do I hear the cows coming home? Why, I think I do?
Kate Beckinsdale - Marry, but only if she dresses like she did in Van Helsing. And wears that red ballgown. Grrrr.
Rosie O'Donnell - definitely dead. And with an apple in her mouth.
Johnny Depp - well, overrated...and he always looks like he needs a bath. So....fuck. Although he was rather adorable in Chocolat...
Orlando - Kill. He looked good as an elf. Otherwise, I wish he'd shave. And he whinges.
Hugh Jackman - Marry!!! (Dimples!)
Ewan - Marry!!!! (Dimples! and other things that shan't be mentioned here...family blog, you know)
Sean Bean - oh, fuck....if he wears the suit from Sharpe's Rifles.
Colin Firth - Marry. He's just too charming. Cute, funny, modest, charming, witty....shall I continue to nauseaute you?
Jack Black - funny man or no, disgusting. Kill. Slowly. Buried in the sand in the desert covered in honey. Yeah, that's the ticket.
Jemimma Rooper - Marry. She's a charming thing. Fetching. I love her.
Russell Crowe - kill
Christian Bale - hm. kill? Ambivalent there?
Ryan Seacrest, Simon Cowell, Hugh Grant go in the aforementioned Posh category. A F. No lube. P.S. I think Hugh Grant suffers from SDS.
Stuart Townsend - Marry. As Lestat! Does he come already paired with Charlize? that might be a double bonus?!!!
Daniel Craig/Adrian Brody - Fuck.
Jonas Armstrong - know who that is? Ah, then I won't tell ye my answer!
Colin Farrell/Tommy Lee/Leonardo DiCaprio - not even with a bath of lysol. Never, ever. How freaking disgusting.
Goran Visnjic - Practical Magic. ER. What's not to love? Even if he does wear his pants a bit too high.
Darling Limerick....your turn! Sidenote: the above answers are mine and mine alone. LG does not totally agree with me. In fact, her answers will be posted ala commentary....
20070719
I can't believe I forgot to mention this.
I never even look at my Amex bill. I just assume that it sucks, and I just pay on it and hope that one day I win the lottery.
I happened to look at it on Sunday, because I went to use my Amex for a small purchase at the Depot and it was declined. Hmmm, I said, so I logged on and looked at my statement.
Well, evidently, I was in Marbella at the exact same time I was in Home Depot.
Right, in Spain. Two places at once.
So I ring Home Depot, validate that I'm who I say I am (you know, nine million questions, forms of identity, etc etc), and get a real person and out of IVR. The real person says "Oh, I will back that charge off, cancel this card, send you a new one, and start the dispute process". To which I add, "could you please flag this as potential fraud and monitor any incoming transactions?" and the kindly lady assures me that she will.
Tuesday, I log in again.
Not only am I in two countries at once, I am having a damn good time. I am traveling ALL OVER Spain, to every freaking high end resort town and having several nights on the town. My doppelganger has spent somewhere around $1500. Not only has the card not been inactivated, it hasn't been flagged for fraud activity either! Back on the phone to Amex. First, I'm told that the fraud line is backed up, and politely asked if I will phone back in an hour. Politely. WTF? Phone back I do, several times. Three times I am disconnected, and the fourth time I make whatever phone widgetansweringperson stay on the phone with me until I connect to a nice lady named Shanna, who stayed on the phone with me for half an hour until we validated that everything was taken care of.
Putting two and two together, either my purchase two months ago at the Mexi place near work OR my $3.27 bacon, egg and cheese sandwich in our shitty cafeteria downstairs on June 27 popped me into a credit card fraud ring (we were sent an email at work...I admit...I didn't read it...our site communicator sends so many of them that I see an email with his name on it and automatically delete it).
Ah, the drama!
I never even look at my Amex bill. I just assume that it sucks, and I just pay on it and hope that one day I win the lottery.
I happened to look at it on Sunday, because I went to use my Amex for a small purchase at the Depot and it was declined. Hmmm, I said, so I logged on and looked at my statement.
Well, evidently, I was in Marbella at the exact same time I was in Home Depot.
Right, in Spain. Two places at once.
So I ring Home Depot, validate that I'm who I say I am (you know, nine million questions, forms of identity, etc etc), and get a real person and out of IVR. The real person says "Oh, I will back that charge off, cancel this card, send you a new one, and start the dispute process". To which I add, "could you please flag this as potential fraud and monitor any incoming transactions?" and the kindly lady assures me that she will.
Tuesday, I log in again.
Not only am I in two countries at once, I am having a damn good time. I am traveling ALL OVER Spain, to every freaking high end resort town and having several nights on the town. My doppelganger has spent somewhere around $1500. Not only has the card not been inactivated, it hasn't been flagged for fraud activity either! Back on the phone to Amex. First, I'm told that the fraud line is backed up, and politely asked if I will phone back in an hour. Politely. WTF? Phone back I do, several times. Three times I am disconnected, and the fourth time I make whatever phone widgetansweringperson stay on the phone with me until I connect to a nice lady named Shanna, who stayed on the phone with me for half an hour until we validated that everything was taken care of.
Putting two and two together, either my purchase two months ago at the Mexi place near work OR my $3.27 bacon, egg and cheese sandwich in our shitty cafeteria downstairs on June 27 popped me into a credit card fraud ring (we were sent an email at work...I admit...I didn't read it...our site communicator sends so many of them that I see an email with his name on it and automatically delete it).
Ah, the drama!
Daft
Well, as excited as I was about the possibility of renting out rooms...
I'm not sure I can do it.
I mean, I know I'm odd, but other people are just fucking weird.
Last night's candidate is a grandmother (but under fifty), long ratted blond hair, blue eyeliner and shadow, and from Dawsonville. Did I mention she drinks tequila? I bet she likes NASCAR.
I think she would drive me nuts.
I will just be poor instead. It will motivate me to work hard and sell the house. Fast.
I'm not sure I can do it.
I mean, I know I'm odd, but other people are just fucking weird.
Last night's candidate is a grandmother (but under fifty), long ratted blond hair, blue eyeliner and shadow, and from Dawsonville. Did I mention she drinks tequila? I bet she likes NASCAR.
I think she would drive me nuts.
I will just be poor instead. It will motivate me to work hard and sell the house. Fast.
20070716
You know, I think my feelings are hurt. I was rather proud of the word "popporn" and no one said a thing! Gosh darnit!
A thorough financial analysis has led me to believe that I can't live in this house by myself, if it comes down to it. Well, I can...but I'd be on the starvation diet. I have to have one roommate...ideally two. So I've taken out an ad in craigslist to rent out the two rooms beneath me...hopefully to some girl who is going to school (or something to that effect). No responses yet, but I have hope!
The more I think about it the more I realize that the life I'm currently leading is not for me. I've let myself be seduced by the trappings of middle class "luxury". I've tried to mold myself into something I'm plainly not (I mean, seriously...I spent two years with acrylic nails...hello!!!!). I wasn't raised that way. Why? Ah, I'm still working on figuring that out. But I have got to get out, really and truly. I'll be the female Willy Loman, stuck in a downward spiral of memory and dementia. Won't that be lovely?
Hah! And how I am a member of the bourgeois, ever overtaxed, with none of the real privleges of wealth. But I can walk down (as I said in an earlier path) a simpler path...
and indeed I shall!
But that doesn't mean I'll stop shaving my legs and armpits. I don't mean to become THAT barbaric.
A thorough financial analysis has led me to believe that I can't live in this house by myself, if it comes down to it. Well, I can...but I'd be on the starvation diet. I have to have one roommate...ideally two. So I've taken out an ad in craigslist to rent out the two rooms beneath me...hopefully to some girl who is going to school (or something to that effect). No responses yet, but I have hope!
The more I think about it the more I realize that the life I'm currently leading is not for me. I've let myself be seduced by the trappings of middle class "luxury". I've tried to mold myself into something I'm plainly not (I mean, seriously...I spent two years with acrylic nails...hello!!!!). I wasn't raised that way. Why? Ah, I'm still working on figuring that out. But I have got to get out, really and truly. I'll be the female Willy Loman, stuck in a downward spiral of memory and dementia. Won't that be lovely?
Hah! And how I am a member of the bourgeois, ever overtaxed, with none of the real privleges of wealth. But I can walk down (as I said in an earlier path) a simpler path...
and indeed I shall!
But that doesn't mean I'll stop shaving my legs and armpits. I don't mean to become THAT barbaric.
20070715
Why oh why is this even making the news?
The Beckhams in America????
I can't WAIT for Posh's program to be on television so I will have something completely new to ridicule.
Farcical Aquatic Tart.
Lazy on the spell check again.
This is the first night in a week and a half that my house is totally and completely silent. I am the only one here. I adore it, I really do. That's not to say I don't like having people around me, because I do...but once in a while I really need some time to myself. I've not felt right today, and the dogs and I have spent the day on the couch writing two papers and doing two classes (work) and in general dozing the day away. This morning my grandmother said "Eliza, you have HUGE circles under your eyes! what is wrong with you!" That's sooo charming!
Why do I pay to keep the pool open if I never use it? Does that even make any sense?
It's been good to see LilSis again, although she makes me feel fat as a house. In fact, the dietary requirements of the three sisters have made for an interesting weekend. I never eat the following things: mayo, dressing, any cream sauce, any kind of gravy, any sauce, or any soft cheese, or ice cream, or in general fast food (unless truly desperate). LilSis does not eat anything fried, or any bread, or any pasta, or any fast food, or any tomato sauce, or any gravy, or any dessert. MidSis is on a diet, so is off the dessert, the fast food, and the pasta. So dinner on Saturday night with the relatives was in general a bust. The menu was: fried fish (ixnay for LilSis and Me - yuck), coleslaw (me and mid sis - yuck ), hushpuppies (all three of us - yuck), potato salad, german and egg (me - yuck yuck yuck), and melon (we all three ate that). Thank goodness we didn't actually try and cook for all of us. We'd never have agreed on anything to eat. Maybe....steamed asparagus, broccoli, and baked chicken? I think we could've all agreed to that. Christmas is going to be fun, I can tell you right now...I'll have to plan out the menu VERY carefully. So much for a Southern Fried Christmas!
The Beckhams in America????
I can't WAIT for Posh's program to be on television so I will have something completely new to ridicule.
Farcical Aquatic Tart.
Lazy on the spell check again.
This is the first night in a week and a half that my house is totally and completely silent. I am the only one here. I adore it, I really do. That's not to say I don't like having people around me, because I do...but once in a while I really need some time to myself. I've not felt right today, and the dogs and I have spent the day on the couch writing two papers and doing two classes (work) and in general dozing the day away. This morning my grandmother said "Eliza, you have HUGE circles under your eyes! what is wrong with you!" That's sooo charming!
Why do I pay to keep the pool open if I never use it? Does that even make any sense?
It's been good to see LilSis again, although she makes me feel fat as a house. In fact, the dietary requirements of the three sisters have made for an interesting weekend. I never eat the following things: mayo, dressing, any cream sauce, any kind of gravy, any sauce, or any soft cheese, or ice cream, or in general fast food (unless truly desperate). LilSis does not eat anything fried, or any bread, or any pasta, or any fast food, or any tomato sauce, or any gravy, or any dessert. MidSis is on a diet, so is off the dessert, the fast food, and the pasta. So dinner on Saturday night with the relatives was in general a bust. The menu was: fried fish (ixnay for LilSis and Me - yuck), coleslaw (me and mid sis - yuck ), hushpuppies (all three of us - yuck), potato salad, german and egg (me - yuck yuck yuck), and melon (we all three ate that). Thank goodness we didn't actually try and cook for all of us. We'd never have agreed on anything to eat. Maybe....steamed asparagus, broccoli, and baked chicken? I think we could've all agreed to that. Christmas is going to be fun, I can tell you right now...I'll have to plan out the menu VERY carefully. So much for a Southern Fried Christmas!
20070713
Ah, the conclusion to the week from hell.
It’s safe to say that your path in life is entirely made up of your own choices. You drive your own destiny. Yeah, you can make an argument than your environment limits your opportunity, and I buy that (someone living in a mud hut with no electricity is not likely to grow up to be a computer engineer). By and large, somehow in that strange combination of nature and nurture we learn enough to be able to successfully maneuver through this artificial world of ours. How well you do it, and how well your own actions sit with you, is up to you.
Pithy but true: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. We can’t all be rich. We can’t all be beautiful. The things you throw out today, someone tomorrow will find and see an item that with a little attention can be made beautiful again. You only think people have expectations of you; in reality, you disappoint only yourself . You project your own disappointments and senses of failure onto other people because it is easier than fixing the blame where it belongs – on you.
And your emotional life is going to follow some basic principals – to every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Knowing this, why put yourself in situations that you know will have a negative or harmful outcome?
I fall into this trap much too often myself.
I realized this week that I am so wrapped up in hatred of this house; Lil Sis (who is down this week) said “wow, this house looks so good, and so much better than it did. You’ve done a good job!” and rather than say thank you, I snorted and proceeded to tell her how much I hated it. What is wrong with me? I had to think about it, really, and it came to me that the reason I hate this house so much is because it represents one of my five big life mistakes, and it’s the last one I have to get rid of before I can totally move on and be free of my past.
Big Five: getting married to my ex, buying this house, paying for the divorce, giving him all the furnishings and buying completely new everythings, and giving the Rebel my old car.
Realizing this was actually…uplifting. I suddenly had a desire to actually DO things…like paint, rearrange, and fix! Amazing!
The only one who can save you, btw, is you. Anything else is a band aid.
It’s safe to say that your path in life is entirely made up of your own choices. You drive your own destiny. Yeah, you can make an argument than your environment limits your opportunity, and I buy that (someone living in a mud hut with no electricity is not likely to grow up to be a computer engineer). By and large, somehow in that strange combination of nature and nurture we learn enough to be able to successfully maneuver through this artificial world of ours. How well you do it, and how well your own actions sit with you, is up to you.
Pithy but true: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. We can’t all be rich. We can’t all be beautiful. The things you throw out today, someone tomorrow will find and see an item that with a little attention can be made beautiful again. You only think people have expectations of you; in reality, you disappoint only yourself . You project your own disappointments and senses of failure onto other people because it is easier than fixing the blame where it belongs – on you.
And your emotional life is going to follow some basic principals – to every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Knowing this, why put yourself in situations that you know will have a negative or harmful outcome?
I fall into this trap much too often myself.
I realized this week that I am so wrapped up in hatred of this house; Lil Sis (who is down this week) said “wow, this house looks so good, and so much better than it did. You’ve done a good job!” and rather than say thank you, I snorted and proceeded to tell her how much I hated it. What is wrong with me? I had to think about it, really, and it came to me that the reason I hate this house so much is because it represents one of my five big life mistakes, and it’s the last one I have to get rid of before I can totally move on and be free of my past.
Big Five: getting married to my ex, buying this house, paying for the divorce, giving him all the furnishings and buying completely new everythings, and giving the Rebel my old car.
Realizing this was actually…uplifting. I suddenly had a desire to actually DO things…like paint, rearrange, and fix! Amazing!
The only one who can save you, btw, is you. Anything else is a band aid.
20070711
Truly, Madly, Deeply
Really, I'm fine. Thinking on the way home, obviously there's a lesson buried somewhere in all this and am wondering if I'm smart enough to ferret it out. Ferret doesn't look right, but am too lazy to c&p in word to proof.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
What doesn't kill you....
Eh, fuck it, you get the idea.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
What doesn't kill you....
Eh, fuck it, you get the idea.
Things
Just things
1. I was told that I need to "man up" in relationships and stop being so nice. Of course, this led to an interesting discussion - if the roles were reversed (economically), could I actually relax and let a man take care of me? I don't know. Then I was asked, if I had a baby, and wanted to stay home and raise it, could I actually let go enough to do it? And I don’t know the answer to that either (but I think it’s no).
2. Man up, that's funny!
3. Ok, about the Geico airport commercial. Something disturbs me. What kind of racquet is he carrying and why? It looks like a badminton racquet...it's too small to be a tennis racquet. Why would you carry either one on vacation if your name isn't Federer? Doesn’t that strike you as odd? That’s like those bathtubs with no source of water in the vineyard in the Cialis commercials. That bothers me too.
4. Finally, it is absolutely lovely to have friends that are concerned enough about the state of your wellbeing to go out of their way to check on you. Thanks, darling….that was more appreciated than you know!
1. I was told that I need to "man up" in relationships and stop being so nice. Of course, this led to an interesting discussion - if the roles were reversed (economically), could I actually relax and let a man take care of me? I don't know. Then I was asked, if I had a baby, and wanted to stay home and raise it, could I actually let go enough to do it? And I don’t know the answer to that either (but I think it’s no).
2. Man up, that's funny!
3. Ok, about the Geico airport commercial. Something disturbs me. What kind of racquet is he carrying and why? It looks like a badminton racquet...it's too small to be a tennis racquet. Why would you carry either one on vacation if your name isn't Federer? Doesn’t that strike you as odd? That’s like those bathtubs with no source of water in the vineyard in the Cialis commercials. That bothers me too.
4. Finally, it is absolutely lovely to have friends that are concerned enough about the state of your wellbeing to go out of their way to check on you. Thanks, darling….that was more appreciated than you know!
Land of the Living Dead
Kidding!
Wanted to let you know that all is well on the western front. Things proceeding as normal, which means snafu is in it's regularly scheduled programming. Life is compounded by incoming strays and outbound flights with Betty Ford. That damn magic eight ball keeps saying "future cloudy".
Wanted to let you know that all is well on the western front. Things proceeding as normal, which means snafu is in it's regularly scheduled programming. Life is compounded by incoming strays and outbound flights with Betty Ford. That damn magic eight ball keeps saying "future cloudy".
20070710
PopPorn
When did pornography become a par t of mainstream culture?
Long gone are the days when Playboy and Penthouse were dirty magazines stashed somewhere in your dad’s bathroom, or under your brother’s mattress, to be discovered and consumed with a feminine sense of wonder (oh my god, am I going to look like THAT when I grow up? Ewww!). It seems to be that porn is now everywhere.
What red blooded occupant of the Western world hasn’t seen a pornographic image? Watched a video, seen an mpeg? I’d say…oh, the only people who haven’t are folks without a computer.
And we’ve become so accepting of something that for years was seen as exploitative of women. Women have even become accepting of it, and now voluntarily participate it, in the name of embracing their sexuality (and in making a buck or three). You don’t think it’s still just a teensy bit degrading…to maybe say that the only thing worthwhile about a woman is what she looks like naked at one particular point in time? I mean, you aren’t looking at porn to hear someone’s voice, or to read her resume, or to find out what her favorite books are.
So, years ago the big scandal was Rob Lowe – remember – so coked up he couldn’t get it up filming himself with two girls (wasn’t one underage?). Now we have every half baked faux celebrity leaking a sex tape to boost their image. Does this predict a trend? Does this mean that in ten years regular people will think nothing of…say, putting a little video of themselves having sex with their ex out on their match.com profile? As a way of advertising, if you will.
In an age where we are literally, at all ages, inundated by sexual imagery – Bratz dolls, children’s cartoons where characters have anatomically ridiculous proportions, Kotex commercials, Cialis commercials, Viagra commercials, “chat line” commercials, people smooching over diamond rings, etc. etc. Doesn’t anything remain private? Doesn’t anything remain special and just between two people, or is it all fair game for mass distribution for mass entertainment?
Long gone are the days when Playboy and Penthouse were dirty magazines stashed somewhere in your dad’s bathroom, or under your brother’s mattress, to be discovered and consumed with a feminine sense of wonder (oh my god, am I going to look like THAT when I grow up? Ewww!). It seems to be that porn is now everywhere.
What red blooded occupant of the Western world hasn’t seen a pornographic image? Watched a video, seen an mpeg? I’d say…oh, the only people who haven’t are folks without a computer.
And we’ve become so accepting of something that for years was seen as exploitative of women. Women have even become accepting of it, and now voluntarily participate it, in the name of embracing their sexuality (and in making a buck or three). You don’t think it’s still just a teensy bit degrading…to maybe say that the only thing worthwhile about a woman is what she looks like naked at one particular point in time? I mean, you aren’t looking at porn to hear someone’s voice, or to read her resume, or to find out what her favorite books are.
So, years ago the big scandal was Rob Lowe – remember – so coked up he couldn’t get it up filming himself with two girls (wasn’t one underage?). Now we have every half baked faux celebrity leaking a sex tape to boost their image. Does this predict a trend? Does this mean that in ten years regular people will think nothing of…say, putting a little video of themselves having sex with their ex out on their match.com profile? As a way of advertising, if you will.
In an age where we are literally, at all ages, inundated by sexual imagery – Bratz dolls, children’s cartoons where characters have anatomically ridiculous proportions, Kotex commercials, Cialis commercials, Viagra commercials, “chat line” commercials, people smooching over diamond rings, etc. etc. Doesn’t anything remain private? Doesn’t anything remain special and just between two people, or is it all fair game for mass distribution for mass entertainment?
20070709
Must must must say something.
Anyone here read the local rag? Specifically that stupid column where they pit the super conservative woman against the super liberal woman and give them some dumb thing to debate? I’m not naming names, since I find that terribly rude, but I’m sure you can figure it out if you care to try.
Last week, one of the topics was something incredibly topical like "are romance novels ruining women's expectations of marriage".
As was expected, the conservative lady (in her little lavender sweater set) said "of course they are, they give women the wrong idea, and of course they are all about S..E...X" (Now, I'm paraphrasing here people, so don't go get all literal on me). Then she goes on to say that she thinks these kind of books ought not to be published.
Well clutch my pearls!
I think, really, just maybe, quite possibly, that the collective intelligence of women across the world has just been insulted.
Are we so lacking in grey matter that we are unable to determine a work of fiction from a work of non fiction? (I mean, whose bosoms heave? Ever met a man named Nigel Greystoke who lived in a manor home called Broadriver? Ever met a woman named Penelope Smithingale? ever danced a waltz? been abducted by an Indian? been attacked by pirates? foiled a plot against the crown? Been struck on the head and awoken in a foreign country? Been sold to a harem? Stolen from a convent? just running through some popular themes here)
Evidently, we ARE lacking in said grey matter; so much so that we are unable to think for ourselves. Since we can't think for ourselves, we shouldn't be allowed to have access to anything that might cause us enjoyment, or might be about (shhhhh) S...E....X.
Hey, I like these books. They are...mental popporn. Good for passing the time. Good for a giggle. Sometimes even good for reminiscing (remember when you thought oral sex was kinda shocking?) . They certainly never gave me irrational ideas about what relationships should be like. I recognize them for what they are – housewife porn. I don’t think men look at Maxim for serious marital advice (at least, I hope not).
What makes me uneasy is that someone else would even say the words out loud "I don't think these books should be published".
Darling, you simply must tell me where you got that that lavender burqa!!
Anyone here read the local rag? Specifically that stupid column where they pit the super conservative woman against the super liberal woman and give them some dumb thing to debate? I’m not naming names, since I find that terribly rude, but I’m sure you can figure it out if you care to try.
Last week, one of the topics was something incredibly topical like "are romance novels ruining women's expectations of marriage".
As was expected, the conservative lady (in her little lavender sweater set) said "of course they are, they give women the wrong idea, and of course they are all about S..E...X" (Now, I'm paraphrasing here people, so don't go get all literal on me). Then she goes on to say that she thinks these kind of books ought not to be published.
Well clutch my pearls!
I think, really, just maybe, quite possibly, that the collective intelligence of women across the world has just been insulted.
Are we so lacking in grey matter that we are unable to determine a work of fiction from a work of non fiction? (I mean, whose bosoms heave? Ever met a man named Nigel Greystoke who lived in a manor home called Broadriver? Ever met a woman named Penelope Smithingale? ever danced a waltz? been abducted by an Indian? been attacked by pirates? foiled a plot against the crown? Been struck on the head and awoken in a foreign country? Been sold to a harem? Stolen from a convent? just running through some popular themes here)
Evidently, we ARE lacking in said grey matter; so much so that we are unable to think for ourselves. Since we can't think for ourselves, we shouldn't be allowed to have access to anything that might cause us enjoyment, or might be about (shhhhh) S...E....X.
Hey, I like these books. They are...mental popporn. Good for passing the time. Good for a giggle. Sometimes even good for reminiscing (remember when you thought oral sex was kinda shocking?) . They certainly never gave me irrational ideas about what relationships should be like. I recognize them for what they are – housewife porn. I don’t think men look at Maxim for serious marital advice (at least, I hope not).
What makes me uneasy is that someone else would even say the words out loud "I don't think these books should be published".
Darling, you simply must tell me where you got that that lavender burqa!!
Ok, so I'm behind the times. (late correction! Waaayyyy late!)
Watched "The Essex Boys" (sorry, too lazy to link to IMDB's page for it) last night on BBCAmerica. What a fabulous movie! Y'all know I have the attention span of a gnat, but I watched the whole freaking thing! And it was great! I still love Sean Bean, and have since I first saw the Sharpe series.
Anyway, back to work.
Watched "The Essex Boys" (sorry, too lazy to link to IMDB's page for it) last night on BBCAmerica. What a fabulous movie! Y'all know I have the attention span of a gnat, but I watched the whole freaking thing! And it was great! I still love Sean Bean, and have since I first saw the Sharpe series.
Anyway, back to work.
20070708
To My Dear Angel,
I was thinking further upon our phone conversation today, and I think it is enough that you are aware of Mr. Brazil’s background and inclinations. This knowledge alone should make you very wary. You should know that he would never be relationship material until he addresses those issues. How old is he, with no real relationship, no marriage, no children to his name (yet)? At some point, I think, one has to have the sense that one has to get one’s life in order in order to move forward. You know, address the baggage in order to have a sense of progression?
And maybe he does need that…grounding we spoke of, and perhaps he knows it and is uncomfortable with having a female in that kind of permanent role in his life. I think he needs to come to terms with it, or he’s going to flounder around forever.
The ex has a friend like that – another fellow who is pushing forty, never married, never a serious girlfriend and no inclination to settle down, have kids, and whatnot. He’s pretty well off, but a real ass munch. Women love him. Go figure. I always completely hated his slimy guts. What does he have? Sure, he has a good job, and a nice car, and a big house. But he’s alone. Women look at someone who has hit forty (with no serious relationship on the radar) and the creep meter tends to go off. Maybe he just wants to roll in tail until he is too old to get it naturally, and has to pay for it. Isn’t that a lonely life? He’s not close to his family either….
Did I mention that I always hated him, and found him predatory and slimy and that he was losing his hair and had a weak chin and that I hated him?
Just checking :-)
At some point, Mr. Brazil is going to figure that out. He can’t fix his familial issues – that is a pattern established long before he was born. The only thing he can do is address himself. The best thing you can do, my dear, is steer clear until he figures things out.
Love ya, and don’t fret about it!
I was thinking further upon our phone conversation today, and I think it is enough that you are aware of Mr. Brazil’s background and inclinations. This knowledge alone should make you very wary. You should know that he would never be relationship material until he addresses those issues. How old is he, with no real relationship, no marriage, no children to his name (yet)? At some point, I think, one has to have the sense that one has to get one’s life in order in order to move forward. You know, address the baggage in order to have a sense of progression?
And maybe he does need that…grounding we spoke of, and perhaps he knows it and is uncomfortable with having a female in that kind of permanent role in his life. I think he needs to come to terms with it, or he’s going to flounder around forever.
The ex has a friend like that – another fellow who is pushing forty, never married, never a serious girlfriend and no inclination to settle down, have kids, and whatnot. He’s pretty well off, but a real ass munch. Women love him. Go figure. I always completely hated his slimy guts. What does he have? Sure, he has a good job, and a nice car, and a big house. But he’s alone. Women look at someone who has hit forty (with no serious relationship on the radar) and the creep meter tends to go off. Maybe he just wants to roll in tail until he is too old to get it naturally, and has to pay for it. Isn’t that a lonely life? He’s not close to his family either….
Did I mention that I always hated him, and found him predatory and slimy and that he was losing his hair and had a weak chin and that I hated him?
Just checking :-)
At some point, Mr. Brazil is going to figure that out. He can’t fix his familial issues – that is a pattern established long before he was born. The only thing he can do is address himself. The best thing you can do, my dear, is steer clear until he figures things out.
Love ya, and don’t fret about it!
20070707
I had one of those weird, flash like revelations while driving to the Publix this morning.
Sometimes the things you say out loud, other people fixate on as the way to solve a problem.
That doesn’t sound quite as profound as it did an hour ago.
I was thinking of my relationship history, and in the three that I left myself, when I expressed some sort of dissatisfaction, each of those three people offered me something they knew I wanted desperately. Do people really attempt to buy each other’s affections that way? If you are dating a girl, and you know she’s ready to get married (presumably to you), and you also know that she’s going to leave because she’s unhappy with something….do you ask her to marry you to make her stay (even if you aren’t ready?)? If you know someone, say, really wants to move to another state, or go back to school or raise goats (even if you really don’t want to) do you capitulate and give it to the other person? Is that sacrifice or stupidity?
With Miss T, we hadn’t been sleeping together for a year. Well, sleeping? Yes, sex…no. If it was…it was generally one sided as in yours truly providing and someone else going to sleep with no reciprocity. She knew I was incredibly unhappy with the state of things. What did she give me that Christmas? Something I had wanted ever since I was a little girl – a pearl necklace like my grandmom’s. I ended things anyway shortly thereafter (and returned the necklace). Ironically, the ex husband did the exact same thing the last Christmas we were together. I also made him return that necklace, and then went the following year and bought one for myself. No more bad pearl necklace karma.
And don’t make ONE freaking joke about a pearl necklace or I will reach through this monitor and smack you!!!
I’ve noticed with some of my friends (and our perpetual state of dissipating relationships) that they are more into the whole….I don’t know “surrendering” thing. Like…”If you’ll only stay with me I’ll (insert whatever here: stop drinking, stop smoking, lose weight, get a job, stop robbing banks, go to church, brush my teeth, stop picking my nose, stop going out with my girlfriends all the time, stop seeing my ex, etc.)” You get the picture. Isn’t that another form of…well, bribe? If you let me stay I’ll change for you???? Shouldn’t you want to change for you? (maybe I shouldn’t have used the nose picking thing as an example because now that is rather grossly stuck in my head…ewwww!)
I think if someone said to me in the course of a relationship that at some point some behavior/mannerism of mine was going to cause a problem, if I wanted the relationship to continue, I might want to look into that myself.
Sometimes the things you say out loud, other people fixate on as the way to solve a problem.
That doesn’t sound quite as profound as it did an hour ago.
I was thinking of my relationship history, and in the three that I left myself, when I expressed some sort of dissatisfaction, each of those three people offered me something they knew I wanted desperately. Do people really attempt to buy each other’s affections that way? If you are dating a girl, and you know she’s ready to get married (presumably to you), and you also know that she’s going to leave because she’s unhappy with something….do you ask her to marry you to make her stay (even if you aren’t ready?)? If you know someone, say, really wants to move to another state, or go back to school or raise goats (even if you really don’t want to) do you capitulate and give it to the other person? Is that sacrifice or stupidity?
With Miss T, we hadn’t been sleeping together for a year. Well, sleeping? Yes, sex…no. If it was…it was generally one sided as in yours truly providing and someone else going to sleep with no reciprocity. She knew I was incredibly unhappy with the state of things. What did she give me that Christmas? Something I had wanted ever since I was a little girl – a pearl necklace like my grandmom’s. I ended things anyway shortly thereafter (and returned the necklace). Ironically, the ex husband did the exact same thing the last Christmas we were together. I also made him return that necklace, and then went the following year and bought one for myself. No more bad pearl necklace karma.
And don’t make ONE freaking joke about a pearl necklace or I will reach through this monitor and smack you!!!
I’ve noticed with some of my friends (and our perpetual state of dissipating relationships) that they are more into the whole….I don’t know “surrendering” thing. Like…”If you’ll only stay with me I’ll (insert whatever here: stop drinking, stop smoking, lose weight, get a job, stop robbing banks, go to church, brush my teeth, stop picking my nose, stop going out with my girlfriends all the time, stop seeing my ex, etc.)” You get the picture. Isn’t that another form of…well, bribe? If you let me stay I’ll change for you???? Shouldn’t you want to change for you? (maybe I shouldn’t have used the nose picking thing as an example because now that is rather grossly stuck in my head…ewwww!)
I think if someone said to me in the course of a relationship that at some point some behavior/mannerism of mine was going to cause a problem, if I wanted the relationship to continue, I might want to look into that myself.
20070706
Maps. Handy things, aren’t they? A useful means of getting from point A to point B, in whatever fashion suits you best. Maybe you prefer the most direct approach, or maybe you prefer the scenic route (you meandering thing you).
We’ve talked about this before, you and I…but wouldn’t it be handy if there was a map for life? You’d be able to see your destination, obviously, and you could pick whatever path suited you best.
Well, perhaps we do. Our destination is ultimately death, and how fast or how slow we get there is largely a matter of our own determination.
But that isn’t what I’m referring to. I mean the other things that make a life worth living. Seriously…does getting up and going to work every day really do it for you? Does being surrounded by…things do it for you? Having nice clothes, or traveling, or a fancy car, or eating out? Does that really (and be honest here) truly, deep down satisfy you at all? Does sitting in yet another tedious meeting or on a conference call resonate within your soul? Does driving your Beamer put you into a Zen state?
So why do we bother?
I’ve been thinking a great deal about simplification lately. I’ve let my own life become way too complicated; I’ve become a wage slave by allowing myself to become a slave to my house. Had I any sense, I’d have sold this freaking thing and taken a loss when I’d gotten divorced. However, we’ve already established I have no sense. Simplification for me will be selling this house, and moving somewhere that is closer to my parents and sister. Simplification will be living in a place where the cost of living is less, where population density isn’t so…well, dense. Where traffic isn’t so horrid. Where daily life is not a competition. A tiny little bungalow with a tidy yard, or a small farmhouse on some land in the middle of nowhere – now that is my idea of a perfect place. Somewhere that I could have a real vegetable garden. Somewhere that I can be myself and not have anyone around to make fun of me or what I wear…and if I want to have purple or blue hair, damnit, I will!
As much as I love this city, I’m coming to the conclusion that it’s time to go. One of the two reasons that I moved back here from Raleigh (never move there, ever) was to spend more time with my grandparents before they died. I’ve now only one grandparent left. The other was that there were no jobs in Raleigh at the time. Times have changed. And truly, if I ever dump this albatross it would be possible to take a more satisfying job that pays less because I would need less.
Doesn’t that sound good? To need less? I think it does.
But there’s not a map to get from A to Z. I’m 33. I’m divorced, I have no kids. I don’t think marriage is for me. It bugs the hell out of me that I don’t know where I’m going, but fuck it, I’ve got to learn to let go of some things and just go with the flow.
The dogs are right. They eat, they sleep, they play. They don't give a fiddler's fuck about any of the shit we silly humans worry about.
Simplification, right? Maybe I should take a page out of my dogs book...
We’ve talked about this before, you and I…but wouldn’t it be handy if there was a map for life? You’d be able to see your destination, obviously, and you could pick whatever path suited you best.
Well, perhaps we do. Our destination is ultimately death, and how fast or how slow we get there is largely a matter of our own determination.
But that isn’t what I’m referring to. I mean the other things that make a life worth living. Seriously…does getting up and going to work every day really do it for you? Does being surrounded by…things do it for you? Having nice clothes, or traveling, or a fancy car, or eating out? Does that really (and be honest here) truly, deep down satisfy you at all? Does sitting in yet another tedious meeting or on a conference call resonate within your soul? Does driving your Beamer put you into a Zen state?
So why do we bother?
I’ve been thinking a great deal about simplification lately. I’ve let my own life become way too complicated; I’ve become a wage slave by allowing myself to become a slave to my house. Had I any sense, I’d have sold this freaking thing and taken a loss when I’d gotten divorced. However, we’ve already established I have no sense. Simplification for me will be selling this house, and moving somewhere that is closer to my parents and sister. Simplification will be living in a place where the cost of living is less, where population density isn’t so…well, dense. Where traffic isn’t so horrid. Where daily life is not a competition. A tiny little bungalow with a tidy yard, or a small farmhouse on some land in the middle of nowhere – now that is my idea of a perfect place. Somewhere that I could have a real vegetable garden. Somewhere that I can be myself and not have anyone around to make fun of me or what I wear…and if I want to have purple or blue hair, damnit, I will!
As much as I love this city, I’m coming to the conclusion that it’s time to go. One of the two reasons that I moved back here from Raleigh (never move there, ever) was to spend more time with my grandparents before they died. I’ve now only one grandparent left. The other was that there were no jobs in Raleigh at the time. Times have changed. And truly, if I ever dump this albatross it would be possible to take a more satisfying job that pays less because I would need less.
Doesn’t that sound good? To need less? I think it does.
But there’s not a map to get from A to Z. I’m 33. I’m divorced, I have no kids. I don’t think marriage is for me. It bugs the hell out of me that I don’t know where I’m going, but fuck it, I’ve got to learn to let go of some things and just go with the flow.
The dogs are right. They eat, they sleep, they play. They don't give a fiddler's fuck about any of the shit we silly humans worry about.
Simplification, right? Maybe I should take a page out of my dogs book...
I did think of one more teeny tiny little thing that I find really annoying...and this applies to folk of either gender.
If you know I really like something...say a movie, or a book, or a song, or an artist or whatever, don't proceed to mock it.
If you come into the room and say "what are you watching" and I reply "oh, old so and so, one of my favorite movies" and you sit down and after five minutes start ridiculing it, I will get pissed off. I will probably turn the movie off and go do something else. Something far far away from the person that is pissing me off. I do not do this to other people. I think it is rude...so why do people do this to me?
This is why the ex husband and I never went to movies or even watched television together. I could never make him understand that just because our tastes were different didn't mean that mine were wrong. Go figure.
If you know I really like something...say a movie, or a book, or a song, or an artist or whatever, don't proceed to mock it.
If you come into the room and say "what are you watching" and I reply "oh, old so and so, one of my favorite movies" and you sit down and after five minutes start ridiculing it, I will get pissed off. I will probably turn the movie off and go do something else. Something far far away from the person that is pissing me off. I do not do this to other people. I think it is rude...so why do people do this to me?
This is why the ex husband and I never went to movies or even watched television together. I could never make him understand that just because our tastes were different didn't mean that mine were wrong. Go figure.
20070705
Courtesy of the Farmer's Almanac!
Scatter Solomon's seal on the floor to banish serpents and venomous creatures from the room.
To protect your house from lightning, gather hazel tree branches on Palm Sunday and keep them in water.
Add caraway seeds to chicken feed to keep poultry from wandering. Feed the seeds to homing pigeons to help them find their way back.
Stuff fennel in your keyhole or hang it over your door to protect against witches.
Never carry a hoe into the house. If you do so by mistake, carry it out again, walking backward to avoid bad luck.
Never walk under a ladder, which is Satan's territory. If you must do it, cross your fingers or make the sign of the fig (closed fist, with thumb between index and middle fingers).
If you give a steel blade to a friend, make the recipient pay you a penny to avoid cutting the friendship.
Never give a knife as a housewarming present, or your new neighbor will become an enemy.
Never pound a nail after sundown, or you will wake the tree gods.
Nail an evergreen branch to new rafters to bring good luck. An empty hornets' nest, hung high, also will bring good luck to any age house.
When you move to a new house, always enter first with a loaf of bread and a new broom. Never bring an old broom into the house.
For More Interesting Tidbits, Go Here!!
To protect your house from lightning, gather hazel tree branches on Palm Sunday and keep them in water.
Add caraway seeds to chicken feed to keep poultry from wandering. Feed the seeds to homing pigeons to help them find their way back.
Stuff fennel in your keyhole or hang it over your door to protect against witches.
Never carry a hoe into the house. If you do so by mistake, carry it out again, walking backward to avoid bad luck.
Never walk under a ladder, which is Satan's territory. If you must do it, cross your fingers or make the sign of the fig (closed fist, with thumb between index and middle fingers).
If you give a steel blade to a friend, make the recipient pay you a penny to avoid cutting the friendship.
Never give a knife as a housewarming present, or your new neighbor will become an enemy.
Never pound a nail after sundown, or you will wake the tree gods.
Nail an evergreen branch to new rafters to bring good luck. An empty hornets' nest, hung high, also will bring good luck to any age house.
When you move to a new house, always enter first with a loaf of bread and a new broom. Never bring an old broom into the house.
For More Interesting Tidbits, Go Here!!
Qualities
People often ask me what drove me nuts about my ex husband...really, they do...well, it's mostly women and one or two random guys involved in some kind of emotional crisis. Anyway, enough digressing.
The little things really don't bother me. People get upset about a lot of little things without stopping to think that their constant irritation is a symptom of a larger problem. I do not care which way the toilet paper goes on the holder, as long as it is on. I don't care how you load the dishwasher, or fold the laundry, as long as it gets done. I don't care how you mow the grass, as long as it is mown. Get the picture?
But true laziness....now, that's my major irritant. Please don't stand in the middle of the kitchen, nary a clean dish in sight, and honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don't see that the kitchen is dirty. Honey? If there ain't a clean glass in the cupboard, the kitchen is freaking dirty. If your toilet could pass as a scientific experiment in mold cultivation, don't you dare look at me and tell me you see nothing wrong with it! I will think you are both a blind and lying lazy bastard. If all your clothes are on the floor and dirty, don't run to the mall and buy something new...try doing a novel thing called laundry. Really, you should try it some time. Give the laundry fairies of the world a break!
I don't expect everyone to live up to my standards. Shit, I don't even live up to my own standards most of the time. However, there are certain things I'm going to keep running smoothly all the time. I will have a clean kitchen. The laundry will not pile up. The bathroom will be clean at all times. I'm iffy on dusting (it sucks) and the only reason I vaccuum twice a week is because the dog hair looks like a small goat if I don't.
Here's the secret....
Don't sit on your ass and watch me while I clean.
Don't arm chair quarterback my cleaning (honey, you missed a spot on the tv...fuck you!).
Don't expect me to be the one cleaning when your parents are coming to town and you decide to go out with your coworkers for a beer at the last minute. I will regard that as major responsibility shirking, and you will be coming home to a dirty house.
I'm just rambling this morning...really.
He also used to do this thing that was really rather funny. Since he'd stay up all night on the computer, playing games and chatting and whatever else it is that men do on the computer all night, he would have the hardest time getting up in the morning. So much so that it got him in trouble at jobs (you know, rolling in to work around noon or one generally does that to you when start time is...ten). So I'd start waking him up. I'd set both alarms. I'd wake him up when I got up, when I showered, when I left. I'd move the alarm to another room and turn the volume up as loud as possible onto that klaxon setting. I'd call to see if he was awake and keep calling until he answered the phone. After all, it was in my best interests to see that he remained employed, right? Hah! Well, I'm no one's alarm clock, and no one's mama. It's not my job to get someone up and out of bed and fed and out the door. Theoretically, if one is an adult, one can do that oneself. I'm an adult...I do all those things myself...why couldn't he?
The little things really don't bother me. People get upset about a lot of little things without stopping to think that their constant irritation is a symptom of a larger problem. I do not care which way the toilet paper goes on the holder, as long as it is on. I don't care how you load the dishwasher, or fold the laundry, as long as it gets done. I don't care how you mow the grass, as long as it is mown. Get the picture?
But true laziness....now, that's my major irritant. Please don't stand in the middle of the kitchen, nary a clean dish in sight, and honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you don't see that the kitchen is dirty. Honey? If there ain't a clean glass in the cupboard, the kitchen is freaking dirty. If your toilet could pass as a scientific experiment in mold cultivation, don't you dare look at me and tell me you see nothing wrong with it! I will think you are both a blind and lying lazy bastard. If all your clothes are on the floor and dirty, don't run to the mall and buy something new...try doing a novel thing called laundry. Really, you should try it some time. Give the laundry fairies of the world a break!
I don't expect everyone to live up to my standards. Shit, I don't even live up to my own standards most of the time. However, there are certain things I'm going to keep running smoothly all the time. I will have a clean kitchen. The laundry will not pile up. The bathroom will be clean at all times. I'm iffy on dusting (it sucks) and the only reason I vaccuum twice a week is because the dog hair looks like a small goat if I don't.
Here's the secret....
Don't sit on your ass and watch me while I clean.
Don't arm chair quarterback my cleaning (honey, you missed a spot on the tv...fuck you!).
Don't expect me to be the one cleaning when your parents are coming to town and you decide to go out with your coworkers for a beer at the last minute. I will regard that as major responsibility shirking, and you will be coming home to a dirty house.
I'm just rambling this morning...really.
He also used to do this thing that was really rather funny. Since he'd stay up all night on the computer, playing games and chatting and whatever else it is that men do on the computer all night, he would have the hardest time getting up in the morning. So much so that it got him in trouble at jobs (you know, rolling in to work around noon or one generally does that to you when start time is...ten). So I'd start waking him up. I'd set both alarms. I'd wake him up when I got up, when I showered, when I left. I'd move the alarm to another room and turn the volume up as loud as possible onto that klaxon setting. I'd call to see if he was awake and keep calling until he answered the phone. After all, it was in my best interests to see that he remained employed, right? Hah! Well, I'm no one's alarm clock, and no one's mama. It's not my job to get someone up and out of bed and fed and out the door. Theoretically, if one is an adult, one can do that oneself. I'm an adult...I do all those things myself...why couldn't he?
20070704
Here is what I am thankful for:
I am thankful for all the generations of women who preceeded me, whose sacrifice and struggle and agitation made it possible for me to be an independent, successful single woman today.
I am thankful for the men and women who fought against tyrrany and oppression and created our country.
I am thankful that we all have a protected right to have an opinion, and to express it, without fear of reprisal or death or oppression.
I am thankful that we all have the freedom to believe in whatever religion we wish, with no risk of legal persecution.
I am thankful that I can walk around my neighborhood by myself unmolested.
And lastly I am thankful for all the unconditional love and support my family has offered me throughout the years. Y'all know I wouldn't be the nutbag I am today without you.....
I am thankful for all the generations of women who preceeded me, whose sacrifice and struggle and agitation made it possible for me to be an independent, successful single woman today.
I am thankful for the men and women who fought against tyrrany and oppression and created our country.
I am thankful that we all have a protected right to have an opinion, and to express it, without fear of reprisal or death or oppression.
I am thankful that we all have the freedom to believe in whatever religion we wish, with no risk of legal persecution.
I am thankful that I can walk around my neighborhood by myself unmolested.
And lastly I am thankful for all the unconditional love and support my family has offered me throughout the years. Y'all know I wouldn't be the nutbag I am today without you.....
20070703
20070702
20070701
With Friends like These
Who needs Enemies.
Right.
I think it very rude to repay someone's kindness and courtesy towards you as a newcomer to town by poaching all their friends, their local haunts, their local eateries, and then have the gall to seem surprised when it turns on you.
Shame on you!
Right.
I think it very rude to repay someone's kindness and courtesy towards you as a newcomer to town by poaching all their friends, their local haunts, their local eateries, and then have the gall to seem surprised when it turns on you.
Shame on you!
Tropical fish have beautiful, vibrant colors.
I have a peculiar, throbbing headache just above my left eyeball. I am fairly certain it has to do with the consumption of too much alcohol, and the late-ish hour, and the guaranteed (a word I can never spell) resultant gain of a pound or two tomorrow.
When did I turn into Bridget Jones?
I have a peculiar, throbbing headache just above my left eyeball. I am fairly certain it has to do with the consumption of too much alcohol, and the late-ish hour, and the guaranteed (a word I can never spell) resultant gain of a pound or two tomorrow.
When did I turn into Bridget Jones?
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