Filed under:
What is the World Coming To?
A local seventeen year old boy shoots his mother (a local deputy), his 11 year old sister, and his four year old sister.
How can you do that? How can you shoot members of your own family?
Really, how can you shoot a four year old, regardless of relation?
What the holy frigging hell is WRONG with people?
I do not care if this boy is still, in the eyes of the law, a child or not. He needs to go to prison for life. He never needs to go to the mall, drive a car, vote, watch tv, surf the internet, go for a walk, date a girl, get married, have children, own a house, have a job, or have grandchildren.
20080229
20080228
Here's a fun exercise for you:
Line up 100 people.
Guess which one of the 100 people has been in jail or prison.
That's right. According to figures recently released by the Justice Department, one in one hundred U.S. Citizens has paid a visit to either the pokey or the big house at some point in their lifetimes (redneck translator: pokey - jail....big house - prison).
According to 2006 JD figures, 1 in 36 hispanics have seen some time behind bars, and 1 in 15 blacks - these are all males, btw. The JD also reports it costs an average of $23,876 to imprison someone (I assume annually).
There are more interesting statistics floating around out there, on the JD site and in other media outlets that talk about the breakdown about the crimes folks are incarcertated for - soft crimes versus hard crimes (drug use versus, oh, say, murder).
Again, tell me why people go to jail for soliciting sex from hookers or using drugs? WTF?
Anyway, interesting stat.
Line up 100 people.
Guess which one of the 100 people has been in jail or prison.
That's right. According to figures recently released by the Justice Department, one in one hundred U.S. Citizens has paid a visit to either the pokey or the big house at some point in their lifetimes (redneck translator: pokey - jail....big house - prison).
According to 2006 JD figures, 1 in 36 hispanics have seen some time behind bars, and 1 in 15 blacks - these are all males, btw. The JD also reports it costs an average of $23,876 to imprison someone (I assume annually).
There are more interesting statistics floating around out there, on the JD site and in other media outlets that talk about the breakdown about the crimes folks are incarcertated for - soft crimes versus hard crimes (drug use versus, oh, say, murder).
Again, tell me why people go to jail for soliciting sex from hookers or using drugs? WTF?
Anyway, interesting stat.
Yes, mom, I really have always thought that the aneurysm was God's way of punishing granddaddy for being a bit of a dick to grandmom; but like all God type punishments, it ends up making the person whose suffering it was meant to avenge suffer a bit more, and thus made grandmom a better person.
And that's why whenever grandmom wants to buy something, or eat something, or go somewhere...I tell her to go ahead. She's entitled. She's earned it. She can tell everyone else to kiss off!
And that's why whenever grandmom wants to buy something, or eat something, or go somewhere...I tell her to go ahead. She's entitled. She's earned it. She can tell everyone else to kiss off!
Princess Fred and I are at it again…we were discussing the ways we show love….Her ex told her that she didn’t love him enough, and that got us wondering what people expect of love, so this is my stab at it….
Love is making sure you have clean clothes to wear every day, and razors to shave with, and non smelly towels with which to dry ones self. Love is eating a meal that someone else prepares for you, and it’s a meal that you might actually like! Love is coming home to a house that is mostly clean and smells good and has nice music and a happy and mostly relaxed woman. Love is having someone aware enough of your needs to have them taken care of without you noticing. You know you are loved when you pop into the kitchen for a snack and find little treats from the store that you know your partner doesn’t eat. Love is getting a surprise present, something you mentioned in passing but completely forgot about. Love is being nagged to go to the doctor, the dentist, the heart specialist, to get a mammogram, whatever – no one wants their partner to die early. No one wants to be the survivor at their lover’s funeral, or explain to their children why their parent has died.
Loving someone means you take care of them when they are sick, no matter the time of day or night. Loving someone means you listen to their hopes and fears without judgment. Loving someone means you accept them for who they are. Loving someone means you don’t denigrate them for their differences. Loving someone means that they fill you with joy. Loving someone means that you gently point out when they have their head in the clouds, or spinach in their teeth, or snot hanging from their nose, or toothpaste on their mouth. Loving someone actually entitles you to mock them after they’ve gone to the bathroom and forgotten the mannerly spray of Lysol. Loving someone means you can enjoy a comfortable silence - in the car, in the house, anywhere - without feeling panic or doom.
Those little pats you get in the hallway or in the kitchen? Yeah, that means that I love you. Those kisses I insist on stealing eight million times a day, those kisses that make you sigh like you are frustrated or bored even though I think you are secretly pleased? Those mean that I love you too. Those little looks we share when we’re out in public, or surrounded by family or friends who are doing something weird/odd/funny/off? Those mean that I really love you, because you so get me. Love is waking up with someone's hand on your arm, your thigh, or some part of your body. Being loved is waking up to a bit of a snuggle or a cuddle, which expresses a desire for closeness. Loving someone means that sex becomes more than a desire for physical release. Sex becomes you longing to please another person, not you wanting to get off. Loving someone makes sex so much better, because it really and truly becomes quality, and you learn to relax, and take your time. Loving someone means giving them what they want in bed without being afraid of rejection, or of your own body, or of being naked.
That’s what it means to me…what does it mean to you?
Love is making sure you have clean clothes to wear every day, and razors to shave with, and non smelly towels with which to dry ones self. Love is eating a meal that someone else prepares for you, and it’s a meal that you might actually like! Love is coming home to a house that is mostly clean and smells good and has nice music and a happy and mostly relaxed woman. Love is having someone aware enough of your needs to have them taken care of without you noticing. You know you are loved when you pop into the kitchen for a snack and find little treats from the store that you know your partner doesn’t eat. Love is getting a surprise present, something you mentioned in passing but completely forgot about. Love is being nagged to go to the doctor, the dentist, the heart specialist, to get a mammogram, whatever – no one wants their partner to die early. No one wants to be the survivor at their lover’s funeral, or explain to their children why their parent has died.
Loving someone means you take care of them when they are sick, no matter the time of day or night. Loving someone means you listen to their hopes and fears without judgment. Loving someone means you accept them for who they are. Loving someone means you don’t denigrate them for their differences. Loving someone means that they fill you with joy. Loving someone means that you gently point out when they have their head in the clouds, or spinach in their teeth, or snot hanging from their nose, or toothpaste on their mouth. Loving someone actually entitles you to mock them after they’ve gone to the bathroom and forgotten the mannerly spray of Lysol. Loving someone means you can enjoy a comfortable silence - in the car, in the house, anywhere - without feeling panic or doom.
Those little pats you get in the hallway or in the kitchen? Yeah, that means that I love you. Those kisses I insist on stealing eight million times a day, those kisses that make you sigh like you are frustrated or bored even though I think you are secretly pleased? Those mean that I love you too. Those little looks we share when we’re out in public, or surrounded by family or friends who are doing something weird/odd/funny/off? Those mean that I really love you, because you so get me. Love is waking up with someone's hand on your arm, your thigh, or some part of your body. Being loved is waking up to a bit of a snuggle or a cuddle, which expresses a desire for closeness. Loving someone means that sex becomes more than a desire for physical release. Sex becomes you longing to please another person, not you wanting to get off. Loving someone makes sex so much better, because it really and truly becomes quality, and you learn to relax, and take your time. Loving someone means giving them what they want in bed without being afraid of rejection, or of your own body, or of being naked.
That’s what it means to me…what does it mean to you?
Reporting from Wrong Foot Thursdays....
I was all excited to try a new roast recipe last night, and while the seasoning was delicious, the cut of meat itself was like old shoe leather. I freaking hate cooking for three hours only to realize that I can't stand what I've made. I had the foresight to make the potatoes separately at least. I fed my meat to the dogs....at least they enjoyed it. It took so long to cook the damn roast, and clean, and clean, and clean...that it was nine before we ate, ten before I was done messing around in the kitchen, and eleven thirty before I sat down to relax. So I was a bit later going to sleep than I like....and this morning was a debacle...with clothing, showers, hot air....I shaved off some flesh a few times...evidently I misunderstood plans for the morning and thought I was waking us both up early, not that we were riding together. Mr. Manners was ready to go and I was still in the birthday suit, so I got ready in a flash and am sitting here in my illegal jeans with wet hair and barely any makeup.
And look to have a long and boring day ahead of me.
I was all excited to try a new roast recipe last night, and while the seasoning was delicious, the cut of meat itself was like old shoe leather. I freaking hate cooking for three hours only to realize that I can't stand what I've made. I had the foresight to make the potatoes separately at least. I fed my meat to the dogs....at least they enjoyed it. It took so long to cook the damn roast, and clean, and clean, and clean...that it was nine before we ate, ten before I was done messing around in the kitchen, and eleven thirty before I sat down to relax. So I was a bit later going to sleep than I like....and this morning was a debacle...with clothing, showers, hot air....I shaved off some flesh a few times...evidently I misunderstood plans for the morning and thought I was waking us both up early, not that we were riding together. Mr. Manners was ready to go and I was still in the birthday suit, so I got ready in a flash and am sitting here in my illegal jeans with wet hair and barely any makeup.
And look to have a long and boring day ahead of me.
20080227
Songs Dedicated to Dogs, Again
Of course, you have your classics:
How Much is That Doggy in the Window?
Can you count Red Rover?
Bingo
Or anything from Lady and the Tramp ("this is the night/it's a beautiful night/and they call it/Bella Notte"...man, I love that song!!!)
But there are no songs about dogs doing things....fetching sticks, barking...you know, being dogs...so....in their honor:
My Dog Likes to Potty All the Time!
Who's that Squirrel Running Around with You?
I'll Stop the World to Sniff Some Poop!
Tonight We're Gonna Potty Like it's 1999!
For Maddy, especially....
Maaadeeelineeee, I know this world is killin' you.
At the Zoe, Zoe Cabana, the itchiest spot north of Havana.
Finn Finnegan FinnFinnegan Finn Finn Cherree A Finn is as lucky as Finn Finn's can be! (who knows that one?)
Dog on the run, Dog on the run! And the jailer mom and sister dog were looking everywhere for the Dog on the Run (for Hariett Houdini).
To all the dogs I've loved before...to all the dogs who've run through my door...I'm glad they came along...I'll warble out this song....to all the dogs I've loved before....
Oh taste me! My sweet tasteable shoe! Oh eat me! That irreplaceable shoe! I'll be a naughty doggie, and mommy will beat me too...oh yummy tasteable shoe!
I go barking after midnight, down in the fridge light, just hoping to wake you, I'm always barking, after midnight, hopin' to wake you.....
Anyway, I'm nuts and signing off....just remember....
The second star to the right shines for YOU!
How Much is That Doggy in the Window?
Can you count Red Rover?
Bingo
Or anything from Lady and the Tramp ("this is the night/it's a beautiful night/and they call it/Bella Notte"...man, I love that song!!!)
But there are no songs about dogs doing things....fetching sticks, barking...you know, being dogs...so....in their honor:
My Dog Likes to Potty All the Time!
Who's that Squirrel Running Around with You?
I'll Stop the World to Sniff Some Poop!
Tonight We're Gonna Potty Like it's 1999!
For Maddy, especially....
Maaadeeelineeee, I know this world is killin' you.
At the Zoe, Zoe Cabana, the itchiest spot north of Havana.
Finn Finnegan FinnFinnegan Finn Finn Cherree A Finn is as lucky as Finn Finn's can be! (who knows that one?)
Dog on the run, Dog on the run! And the jailer mom and sister dog were looking everywhere for the Dog on the Run (for Hariett Houdini).
To all the dogs I've loved before...to all the dogs who've run through my door...I'm glad they came along...I'll warble out this song....to all the dogs I've loved before....
Oh taste me! My sweet tasteable shoe! Oh eat me! That irreplaceable shoe! I'll be a naughty doggie, and mommy will beat me too...oh yummy tasteable shoe!
I go barking after midnight, down in the fridge light, just hoping to wake you, I'm always barking, after midnight, hopin' to wake you.....
Anyway, I'm nuts and signing off....just remember....
The second star to the right shines for YOU!
Cooking
I really don't like cooking.
Really? You'll say!
I'm astonished! I thought all you ovary bearing female types were somehow bio engineered to enjoy cooking! Slaving away over a hot stove for hours on end, fussing with presentation and plates and glasses and napkins and the like, and then spending hours cleaning up the dishes. I thought you enjoyed serving and hovering like a mother hen; isn't it programmed into your genes?
You mean that scream wasn't a scream of joy?
Hah.
I have, however, come to enjoy cooking. Specifically, I have come to enjoy taking what is probably a perfectly good recipe and ruining it. I have discovered that I am, much to my surprise, a precise person. I want a recipe to be as detailed as instructions for....measuring a piece of wood.
Recipes are vague. Recently tried to make an Angel Food Cake, and the instructions said "whip egg whites until peaks form".
Unless you bake regularly (which I confess, I do not) this means nothing. Less than nothing. So like any good user of the internet, I Googled. I found pictures galore, yes, of peaked egg whites. This was not what I had in mind.
I was looking for a simple correlation between the amount of time one must spend holding the blender in the egg whites and the blender speed. Yes, to me, that seems logical. Ten minutes on high, that sort of thing, like you see with the oven, or with grilling. Not something as vague as "whip egg whites until peaks form".
The cake was edible, but did not resemble in terms of consistentcy an "angel food cake".
One thing I've finally realized, indeed, shamelessly stolen from all the cooking shows I've never watched is that it pays to prep. For years, I've prepped as I've gone. You know, started cooking and kept chopping. That really sucks, and inevitably something is burnt, etc. The one advantage to this is that you economize on pot and utensil useage.
However, if you unload the dishwasher and wipe off the counters first, and then start chopping up everything you need, and then start cooking, you can actually focus on what you are making...and enjoy actually cooking. And have time to load the dishwasher with all the extra crap you used to chop and mince and flambe (or whatever).
So I made a different potato soup last night. My potato soup is normally just stock and potatoes and cheese. Last nights contained leeks, onions, milk, flour, salt, pepper, rosemary, paprika, bacon, bacon fat (gasp) and whatever else I could throw into the bloody pot. At some point, I looked at the recipe and said "no farking way am I putting that into a perfectly good pot of soup" and went in search of something else. And I found the potato to broth ratio waaaayyyyy too skimpy, and so doubled the potatoes for a nice hearty soup. Yum. Oh, and bread. With Butter. Yeah! In a bowl shaped like a fish.
I left every single dish in the sink.
They are still there even as we speak.
Giada I am not.
Really? You'll say!
I'm astonished! I thought all you ovary bearing female types were somehow bio engineered to enjoy cooking! Slaving away over a hot stove for hours on end, fussing with presentation and plates and glasses and napkins and the like, and then spending hours cleaning up the dishes. I thought you enjoyed serving and hovering like a mother hen; isn't it programmed into your genes?
You mean that scream wasn't a scream of joy?
Hah.
I have, however, come to enjoy cooking. Specifically, I have come to enjoy taking what is probably a perfectly good recipe and ruining it. I have discovered that I am, much to my surprise, a precise person. I want a recipe to be as detailed as instructions for....measuring a piece of wood.
Recipes are vague. Recently tried to make an Angel Food Cake, and the instructions said "whip egg whites until peaks form".
Unless you bake regularly (which I confess, I do not) this means nothing. Less than nothing. So like any good user of the internet, I Googled. I found pictures galore, yes, of peaked egg whites. This was not what I had in mind.
I was looking for a simple correlation between the amount of time one must spend holding the blender in the egg whites and the blender speed. Yes, to me, that seems logical. Ten minutes on high, that sort of thing, like you see with the oven, or with grilling. Not something as vague as "whip egg whites until peaks form".
The cake was edible, but did not resemble in terms of consistentcy an "angel food cake".
One thing I've finally realized, indeed, shamelessly stolen from all the cooking shows I've never watched is that it pays to prep. For years, I've prepped as I've gone. You know, started cooking and kept chopping. That really sucks, and inevitably something is burnt, etc. The one advantage to this is that you economize on pot and utensil useage.
However, if you unload the dishwasher and wipe off the counters first, and then start chopping up everything you need, and then start cooking, you can actually focus on what you are making...and enjoy actually cooking. And have time to load the dishwasher with all the extra crap you used to chop and mince and flambe (or whatever).
So I made a different potato soup last night. My potato soup is normally just stock and potatoes and cheese. Last nights contained leeks, onions, milk, flour, salt, pepper, rosemary, paprika, bacon, bacon fat (gasp) and whatever else I could throw into the bloody pot. At some point, I looked at the recipe and said "no farking way am I putting that into a perfectly good pot of soup" and went in search of something else. And I found the potato to broth ratio waaaayyyyy too skimpy, and so doubled the potatoes for a nice hearty soup. Yum. Oh, and bread. With Butter. Yeah! In a bowl shaped like a fish.
I left every single dish in the sink.
They are still there even as we speak.
Giada I am not.
So, I did it. I made an appointment with my worthless, let's see who has the least busy schedule and can see Eliza today, doctor.
First, I want to re-up the medicine I formerly threw away as worthless for prevention of migraines. To be fair, I never took it as prescribed (because, you know, I think I'm smarter than my doctor)...never took the right dose, didn't take it long enough, etc. And...well, the thing that stops them in their tracks? They won't give me any more unless I come in.
And I've decided to stop monkeying around with people who don't remember me. I want a real doctor. Seriously. Do you know, I've been to this doctors office a dozen times, and each time I've seen a different member of the faculty? I don't know any of their names. They don't know me, or anything about me.
Two weeks. Two three day migraines, with a severe dissociative state, and vomiting, followed by...hm...how do I say this...you know how the weather is when it rains ducks for a few days and then the fourth day is sunny and warm but moist? Yeah, I'm frigging happy as a lark but not quite right in my own head.
I want a CAT scan. And an MRI. I want a real brain doctor, and not a multi purpose multi patient quack.
First, I want to re-up the medicine I formerly threw away as worthless for prevention of migraines. To be fair, I never took it as prescribed (because, you know, I think I'm smarter than my doctor)...never took the right dose, didn't take it long enough, etc. And...well, the thing that stops them in their tracks? They won't give me any more unless I come in.
And I've decided to stop monkeying around with people who don't remember me. I want a real doctor. Seriously. Do you know, I've been to this doctors office a dozen times, and each time I've seen a different member of the faculty? I don't know any of their names. They don't know me, or anything about me.
Two weeks. Two three day migraines, with a severe dissociative state, and vomiting, followed by...hm...how do I say this...you know how the weather is when it rains ducks for a few days and then the fourth day is sunny and warm but moist? Yeah, I'm frigging happy as a lark but not quite right in my own head.
I want a CAT scan. And an MRI. I want a real brain doctor, and not a multi purpose multi patient quack.
20080226
Just when I think things suck around here:
I've heard of a competitor who handed out bonuses all right, but who DEFERRED them until 2009.
You can't quit or be laid off and still claim your funds.
You have to still be employed by said company on January 15, 2009 to claim your 2007 bonus.
Funny...this company is said to be acquiring a major sub prime lender...and yet...can't pay their own employees the monies they are due?
I've heard of a competitor who handed out bonuses all right, but who DEFERRED them until 2009.
You can't quit or be laid off and still claim your funds.
You have to still be employed by said company on January 15, 2009 to claim your 2007 bonus.
Funny...this company is said to be acquiring a major sub prime lender...and yet...can't pay their own employees the monies they are due?
It's all about hope.
You hope to better yourself.
You hope to have a better life than your parents.
You hope to have children.
You hope to be married.
You hope to be happy.
You hope to have good health.
You hope to live to enjoy old age.
You hope to have a good life.
They all seem like such simple hopes, don't they, and yet for many of us they remain elusive and totally out of our grasp. And it's because we grasp so hard that these things elude us. Things come when you relax, when you stop pursuing, when you stop being so guarded, when you stop being so analytical, when you stop wallowing in your pig tracks, when you just let go....and stop being afraid.
"Fear is the mind killer"
And it's the truth. If you let your fear - rational or not - based in reality or not - rule you - aren't you limiting yourself? Or perhaps creating some kind of self fulfilling prophecy?
Are you afraid to actually let someone in because of what happened last time? What really happened last time? Did someone break your heart? Can you take an honest look at yourself and say truthfully that you don't have any skin in the blame game? Can you take an honest look at yourself and say that you still have your integrity?
I can say it: yeah, I made a bad decision. I paid for it. I got over it. I'm ready for my chance to be happy.
Are you?
You hope to better yourself.
You hope to have a better life than your parents.
You hope to have children.
You hope to be married.
You hope to be happy.
You hope to have good health.
You hope to live to enjoy old age.
You hope to have a good life.
They all seem like such simple hopes, don't they, and yet for many of us they remain elusive and totally out of our grasp. And it's because we grasp so hard that these things elude us. Things come when you relax, when you stop pursuing, when you stop being so guarded, when you stop being so analytical, when you stop wallowing in your pig tracks, when you just let go....and stop being afraid.
"Fear is the mind killer"
And it's the truth. If you let your fear - rational or not - based in reality or not - rule you - aren't you limiting yourself? Or perhaps creating some kind of self fulfilling prophecy?
Are you afraid to actually let someone in because of what happened last time? What really happened last time? Did someone break your heart? Can you take an honest look at yourself and say truthfully that you don't have any skin in the blame game? Can you take an honest look at yourself and say that you still have your integrity?
I can say it: yeah, I made a bad decision. I paid for it. I got over it. I'm ready for my chance to be happy.
Are you?
Just quickly checking in.
Standing at work talking to someone this morning. Person standing two feet in front of me. Might as well have been ten million miles away. Feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. Could cry. Aftereffects of migraine. Was very tired and out of it last night and again today and I really feel like no one cares.
Off to class.
Standing at work talking to someone this morning. Person standing two feet in front of me. Might as well have been ten million miles away. Feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest. Could cry. Aftereffects of migraine. Was very tired and out of it last night and again today and I really feel like no one cares.
Off to class.
20080225
Thank God It's Monday
Because the weekend was hideous.
Friday afternoon, the dog tripped me on the stairs and instead of falling forwards I fell backwards and sideways. I was completely unprepared and so landed hard....on my bad right arm. I think I yelled "god damnit Maddy" on the way down but it could have just been a scream. Because that's all I did for a good fifteen minutes. Scream, roll around on the floor, and go all "Blair Witch" with my nose.
I was having hysterics. They are interesting - have you had them ever? Sniveling, couldn't stop crying, hyperventilating fits. I scared the dogs. Hell, I scared myself. I couldn't get anyone to answer the phone but I finally got daddy to answer, and he got me calmed down. I ended up driving myself to the doctor (my regular doc doesn't have an on site xray machine, my doc in the boxes was dead, and I didn't want to go to the ER), and lo and behold neither arm nor fanny were seriously injured although they both took a real good knock. Now I just have four VERY large and dark bruises in interesting places.
Saturday, Sunday and today saw the return of the three day migraine. In fact, got out of the shower this morning and immediately threw up. Emailed work, went back to bed. Am logging into work now to finish up the day. Sucks!
Friday afternoon, the dog tripped me on the stairs and instead of falling forwards I fell backwards and sideways. I was completely unprepared and so landed hard....on my bad right arm. I think I yelled "god damnit Maddy" on the way down but it could have just been a scream. Because that's all I did for a good fifteen minutes. Scream, roll around on the floor, and go all "Blair Witch" with my nose.
I was having hysterics. They are interesting - have you had them ever? Sniveling, couldn't stop crying, hyperventilating fits. I scared the dogs. Hell, I scared myself. I couldn't get anyone to answer the phone but I finally got daddy to answer, and he got me calmed down. I ended up driving myself to the doctor (my regular doc doesn't have an on site xray machine, my doc in the boxes was dead, and I didn't want to go to the ER), and lo and behold neither arm nor fanny were seriously injured although they both took a real good knock. Now I just have four VERY large and dark bruises in interesting places.
Saturday, Sunday and today saw the return of the three day migraine. In fact, got out of the shower this morning and immediately threw up. Emailed work, went back to bed. Am logging into work now to finish up the day. Sucks!
20080221
So tell me: when has making an utter ass out of yourself on the international stage served to do anything other than...making an ass out of yourself?
Now secession is a tricky thing. We have experience with that here in the U.S., and our experiment with secession resulted in the decimation of our population and years of violence and misery. I have often wondered what the population and dynamic of the U.S. would be today if we hadn't had lost 618,000 men in the Civil War? I find nothing immediately that gives a solid count of civilians killed (although a good deal on reprisal killings), but I've read numbers that said a third of the South's population died during the war.
Do a people have the right to secede? Where should other governments step in? In areas that have suffered genocide, I think it's a good idea for someone with no vested interest to step in and negotiate a settlement between the two and hammer out an agreement that is a compromise between everyone's wishes.
Torching an embassy makes Serbia look so.....Cold War Russia.
Dime store tutorial of Serbia. Founded in 1918. Changed it's name to Yugoslavia in 1929 (United Slavic States?). Have been fighting each other since WW2. Josip Tito steered the country from 1945 up until his death in 1980 (behind the scenes pushing his hand picked appointees). 1991 found Croatia, Slovenia and Macedonia magically declaring independence. Kosovo was the home to Ethnic Albanians until, responding to the strengthening of Kosovo's paramilitary presence, Serbian forces responded and began their campaign of ethnic cleansing (also known as systematic slaughter). Fast forward through the U.N. intervention (and my BIG BEEF with Bill Clinton for failing to go in and provide U.S. Groundtroops to support the U.N.'s work), and Milosevic's arrest and trial for Crimes Against Humanity.
In fact: "The Indictment charges Slobodan Milosevic, Milan Milutinovic, Dragoljub Ojdanic, Nikola Sainovic and Vlajko Stojiljkovic on the basis of individual criminal responsibility....and superior criminal responsibility with: one count of violations of the laws or customs or war and four counts of crimes against humanity (deportation, murder, persecutions for political, racial or religious grounds; other inhumane acts)." http://www.un.org/icty/glance/milosevic.htm
Other inhumane acts?
Rape camps. Taking Albanian women prisoners and "giving" them to a unit to use as they saw fit. The slaughter of Albanian children. Burning orphanages. Continuing a campaign of terror.
I'm not very fond of Serbia, am I?
Kosovo should be allowed to secede. You guys STILL hate each other - why on earth would you want to be one country?
I didn't see the Serbs setting fire to the embassies of anyone else who recognized Kosovo's declaration of indepence. Why?
You know, I have my most interesting revalations in the shower. Must be something to do with the colors white and bisque...or...the smell of shampoo? I'm not certain, but I do an inordinate amount of thinking as I stand in the brutally hot water. I find showering to be one of the most relaxing things to do, and am ashamed to admit that even in this time of drought I take two showers a day. Sometimes I even wash my hair twice! That cascading warm water is just too soothing for me to resist....
Standing in the shower here recently (no, not today) I had this sudden screaming sense of failure and doom. Normally the kind of feeling that would burst out of my brain shrieking for freedom only to settle somewhere in the general area of my stomach and linger there, gnawing at me for weeks and weeks until I can't take the pressure anymore and go and do something negative.
For you normal people, the best way I can describe it is this: when you are in bed tonight, by yourself, think about your death. Go ahead, it's fun!
I just wanted to share that with you, just to brighten your day.
Honest!
Someone told me that not all of my photos are able to be opened into a larger window, and that has been busted forever. Dudes! You are failing me rather miserably...you folks are supposed to TELL ME THESE THINGS.
Welcome back, LG!!!
Standing in the shower here recently (no, not today) I had this sudden screaming sense of failure and doom. Normally the kind of feeling that would burst out of my brain shrieking for freedom only to settle somewhere in the general area of my stomach and linger there, gnawing at me for weeks and weeks until I can't take the pressure anymore and go and do something negative.
For you normal people, the best way I can describe it is this: when you are in bed tonight, by yourself, think about your death. Go ahead, it's fun!
I just wanted to share that with you, just to brighten your day.
Honest!
Someone told me that not all of my photos are able to be opened into a larger window, and that has been busted forever. Dudes! You are failing me rather miserably...you folks are supposed to TELL ME THESE THINGS.
Welcome back, LG!!!
20080220
20080219
This morning did not evidently start out on the best of feet.
The cat spent the night in my Jeep.
I got almost out of the neighborhood before I realized I had left my pill on the counter in the kitchen. I contemplated leaving it there - and then I remembered that Maddy is tall enough to eat things off the counter. So I turned around in a cul de sac and went back to the house.
I got all the way to work and realized the ONE ITEM of makeup I wear rain or shine, in sickness or in health, to bed, to work, to the store, to take a nap...the one thing I wear when I don't put anything else on (including moisturizer).....well, let's just say I forgot this morning.
Eyeliner.
I am naked. Help!
The cat spent the night in my Jeep.
I got almost out of the neighborhood before I realized I had left my pill on the counter in the kitchen. I contemplated leaving it there - and then I remembered that Maddy is tall enough to eat things off the counter. So I turned around in a cul de sac and went back to the house.
I got all the way to work and realized the ONE ITEM of makeup I wear rain or shine, in sickness or in health, to bed, to work, to the store, to take a nap...the one thing I wear when I don't put anything else on (including moisturizer).....well, let's just say I forgot this morning.
Eyeliner.
I am naked. Help!
Mr. Manchester provided me with a link to a petition to legalize sales of alcohol in stores on Sunday.
For those that don't know, you can't nip to your local super-whatever or liquor store and buy alcohol on a Sunday. You can, however, go to your neighborhood bar and get blindingly drunk. When I was younger, there was a bar downtown where the bartender (for an extra fiver) would allow you to take a six or twelve pack of beer from the cooler and take it home with you. On a Sunday.
So the petition has the option of leaving messages...I'm cherry picking, but here are some of my favs:
"Legalize it; you think God doesn't know you get drunk the other six nights of the week?"
"I've always been confused why Georgians can drive vehicles to bars on Sunday to purchase alcohol by the glass, but cannot purchase alcohol to consume privately in the home. Certainly a change in purchasing laws would reduce the likelihood of DUI's in the state on Sunday."
My second favorite: "It's a free market decision".
"Letting us make up our own minds is what Jesus would do" (Hallelujah inserted by Eliza)
"Our elected officials should listen to the people and not tell us what THEY want".
"...I don't want the State of Georgia telling me what my religious beliefs should be".
"Come on Republicans! Don't be hypocrats!" (I'm not sure if that's an intentional misspelling...but it's hilarious).
"Let's bring Georgia into the modern age! I'll drink to that!"
"I can't believe this is even an issue. Screw the yahoo moralists!"
So, Mr. Perdue, while you are praying for rain or off playing golf, here are my words for you:
Part of what has made us a great country is our freedom. Our freedom to practice free thought, to observe whatever religion we chose (although...are the Moonies REALLY a religion? Does Scientology count?), and to live our day to day private lives without interference from the government - our rights as U.S. Citizens.
I think the State of Georgia saying we can't by booze on a Sunday interferes with my freedom of religion. Are Jewish people offended because we can by liquor on the Sabbath?
So: butt out. Repeal the damn law. Stop being a nanny.
Petition?
Here: http://www.PetitionOnline.com/GASB138/
For those that don't know, you can't nip to your local super-whatever or liquor store and buy alcohol on a Sunday. You can, however, go to your neighborhood bar and get blindingly drunk. When I was younger, there was a bar downtown where the bartender (for an extra fiver) would allow you to take a six or twelve pack of beer from the cooler and take it home with you. On a Sunday.
So the petition has the option of leaving messages...I'm cherry picking, but here are some of my favs:
"Legalize it; you think God doesn't know you get drunk the other six nights of the week?"
"I've always been confused why Georgians can drive vehicles to bars on Sunday to purchase alcohol by the glass, but cannot purchase alcohol to consume privately in the home. Certainly a change in purchasing laws would reduce the likelihood of DUI's in the state on Sunday."
My second favorite: "It's a free market decision".
"Letting us make up our own minds is what Jesus would do" (Hallelujah inserted by Eliza)
"Our elected officials should listen to the people and not tell us what THEY want".
"...I don't want the State of Georgia telling me what my religious beliefs should be".
"Come on Republicans! Don't be hypocrats!" (I'm not sure if that's an intentional misspelling...but it's hilarious).
"Let's bring Georgia into the modern age! I'll drink to that!"
"I can't believe this is even an issue. Screw the yahoo moralists!"
So, Mr. Perdue, while you are praying for rain or off playing golf, here are my words for you:
Part of what has made us a great country is our freedom. Our freedom to practice free thought, to observe whatever religion we chose (although...are the Moonies REALLY a religion? Does Scientology count?), and to live our day to day private lives without interference from the government - our rights as U.S. Citizens.
I think the State of Georgia saying we can't by booze on a Sunday interferes with my freedom of religion. Are Jewish people offended because we can by liquor on the Sabbath?
So: butt out. Repeal the damn law. Stop being a nanny.
Petition?
Here: http://www.PetitionOnline.com/GASB138/
20080218
Riding on the City of New Orleans
So, last month's trip to New Orleans. Had been a couple of times in prior times; wanted to see the city after Katrina and reassure myself that it still had it's vibe...and it does. The Quarter looks to be almost completely repaired at this point - but it didn't take the heaviest amount of damage. The Wards and other parts of the city (yes, the poor parts) clearly took a hit. You can see entire sections of town that were decimated (if you want a picture of what the "poor" section used to be like, rent "The Big Easy". It shows you what NO was like in the eighties and nineties).
Le H'otel. Top balcony was our room!
What? Hark, what yon cathedral could that be? Do you know how hard it is to get ANY picture, even this shitty one, without disgusting people in it?
Obviously, getting a bit of a band aid here, but easily my favorite part of the city. The junk market!
I sat at this fountain for a while, until Mr. Manners indulged my request to take pictures of the pretty rings and stars. Yes, I did have CoCo Puffs for breakfast.
I can't think of anything that says it more...well, maybe another shot or two.
Pardon me, but has anyone seem my cocktank? Right! To the left, you say? Cheerio!
Drunken revelry! With Flash!
Still drunken revelry, no flash. Methinks there was some boob flashing going on to the right, judging by the turning o the heads.
More crowd scenes. I love the look of things at night, but maybe one day when I get a better camera I can have better pictures.
Just some random building.
Dat dere rivah shore is big! On the banks of the levee. The message of many a t shirt "I drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was GONE" or "FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run Mutherfucker Run!".
Our courtyard view. Note the lack of rain. This indicates this photo was taken on a Sunday, as it rained all freaking fucking day on Saturday. Even the ducks were wearing golashes.
A little nacht musik allowed me to relax and focus on my love of all traditional jazz.
You don' t think that kind of poverty as really existing here. It's terrible to see. Worse still it's like our charitable inclination we had to help those people when the disaster first occurred has been replaced by irritation, by a sense that those people should be taking care of things themselves rather than waiting for someone to help them. You know, I wonder how many of these people truly can't take care of themselves in a manner we deem normal? How many could truly meld into our society, learn a job, and some skills, and make a living? I'm guessing not that many, to be honest.
Well, that's a post for another day.
Le H'otel. Top balcony was our room!
What? Hark, what yon cathedral could that be? Do you know how hard it is to get ANY picture, even this shitty one, without disgusting people in it?
Obviously, getting a bit of a band aid here, but easily my favorite part of the city. The junk market!
I sat at this fountain for a while, until Mr. Manners indulged my request to take pictures of the pretty rings and stars. Yes, I did have CoCo Puffs for breakfast.
I can't think of anything that says it more...well, maybe another shot or two.
Pardon me, but has anyone seem my cocktank? Right! To the left, you say? Cheerio!
Drunken revelry! With Flash!
Still drunken revelry, no flash. Methinks there was some boob flashing going on to the right, judging by the turning o the heads.
More crowd scenes. I love the look of things at night, but maybe one day when I get a better camera I can have better pictures.
Just some random building.
Dat dere rivah shore is big! On the banks of the levee. The message of many a t shirt "I drove my chevy to the levee but the levee was GONE" or "FEMA Evacuation Plan: Run Mutherfucker Run!".
Our courtyard view. Note the lack of rain. This indicates this photo was taken on a Sunday, as it rained all freaking fucking day on Saturday. Even the ducks were wearing golashes.A little nacht musik allowed me to relax and focus on my love of all traditional jazz.
I'm sure there are much better pictures of the fountain at Pat O'Brien's at night. However, I couldn't take one. The thing that was the most annoying - you'd be clearly snapping pictures and these wankers would walk RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU and ignore your presence. Doubly irritating in that there was ANOTHER PATH to TAKE.
We really did have a great time, and I think the city has recovered nicely.
We really did have a great time, and I think the city has recovered nicely.
The worst: as you are leaving the city and driving "up" Canal to get back to the highway, you turn right at this overpass to access the highway. Underneath, there were a few hundred tents, and cook fires, and people. Masses and masses of people living in tents under the highway.
You don' t think that kind of poverty as really existing here. It's terrible to see. Worse still it's like our charitable inclination we had to help those people when the disaster first occurred has been replaced by irritation, by a sense that those people should be taking care of things themselves rather than waiting for someone to help them. You know, I wonder how many of these people truly can't take care of themselves in a manner we deem normal? How many could truly meld into our society, learn a job, and some skills, and make a living? I'm guessing not that many, to be honest.
Well, that's a post for another day.
Do I have anything fantastic to tell you?
No.
I had a lovely weekend, outside of the airport situation. Oh, and my brand new bag smells like cat pee. I have been assured it is because the leather is red. I do not know - I might send it back. Thoughts?
Dinner at Pastis was lovely on Friday night. Beef tenderloin on risotto with wild mushrooms, white wine, and spinach. And we tried out the smoker last night, and smoked a beef tenderloin (so I'm on a dead cow kick - big deal!). Added more items to the fish tank.
Oh!!!
Maddy got a haircut. Have picts to post - will do that later.
No.
I had a lovely weekend, outside of the airport situation. Oh, and my brand new bag smells like cat pee. I have been assured it is because the leather is red. I do not know - I might send it back. Thoughts?
Dinner at Pastis was lovely on Friday night. Beef tenderloin on risotto with wild mushrooms, white wine, and spinach. And we tried out the smoker last night, and smoked a beef tenderloin (so I'm on a dead cow kick - big deal!). Added more items to the fish tank.
Oh!!!
Maddy got a haircut. Have picts to post - will do that later.
20080217
Now you peeps know I don't go posting comments with my real name in them! Would I ever be so indiscreet?
Last week's work irritation continued. This is bonus and review week. Managers were supposed to have their employees EMS and Feedback done last year, turned into our manager for review.
My boss has had my EMS since Dec 15, and those of my team.
On Feb 14, the night before they were due to be released, he emailed me to go and change someones before the next morning.
Sod off, says I!
He forgot to release it anyway, so I couldn't make changes until the AM.
Today has been a pleasant and weirdly warm day. In fact, this is the kind of Sunday night I like to have on a Saturday. If I were a bad person, I'd play hookey tomorrow.
But I'm not.
Last week's work irritation continued. This is bonus and review week. Managers were supposed to have their employees EMS and Feedback done last year, turned into our manager for review.
My boss has had my EMS since Dec 15, and those of my team.
On Feb 14, the night before they were due to be released, he emailed me to go and change someones before the next morning.
Sod off, says I!
He forgot to release it anyway, so I couldn't make changes until the AM.
Today has been a pleasant and weirdly warm day. In fact, this is the kind of Sunday night I like to have on a Saturday. If I were a bad person, I'd play hookey tomorrow.
But I'm not.
What's up with the whole "renewing of vows" thing? I mean, I can see the sweet aspect of it, you know "I still love you after all these years" or maybe even the "I am doing this because I fucked up and want you to forgive me" theme or even the "one more time before I die" tragic angle, but otherwise....why would you do it?
Here's a new term for you - cube groupie - a person who lingers outside your cube, while waiting for you to get off the phone/end the meeting/quit picking your nose. Cube stalking is what they do - hovering patiently waiting to pounce on their prey - you!
Admit it. You know someone just like that. We all do. Another universal stereotype.
I spent the whole afternoon hanging around at the airport. As I was sitting there, I thought - if only I had my laptop I could blog some great, NY Times worthy article about the microcosm of the globe that is an international airport, and all humanity is level as it intersects.
Instead, all I can tell you about all this hours later is the overwhelming stench of mustard that followed us home. So much so that I had to take a shower to get the smell of mustard out of my hair.
Mustard sucks.
You know, I've just remembered why I like the X Men over Spiderman. Somehow, the XMen seemed more believeable...and Spiderman too cartoon like.
Admit it. You know someone just like that. We all do. Another universal stereotype.
I spent the whole afternoon hanging around at the airport. As I was sitting there, I thought - if only I had my laptop I could blog some great, NY Times worthy article about the microcosm of the globe that is an international airport, and all humanity is level as it intersects.
Instead, all I can tell you about all this hours later is the overwhelming stench of mustard that followed us home. So much so that I had to take a shower to get the smell of mustard out of my hair.
Mustard sucks.
You know, I've just remembered why I like the X Men over Spiderman. Somehow, the XMen seemed more believeable...and Spiderman too cartoon like.
20080215
20080214
The brain is an odd thing:
While standing in line at the Fresh Market, I'm waiting in line behind a woman and her daughter, and the daughter's friend (I assume). The mother is about ten years older than I am, and her daughter looks about thirteen. As I listen to their idle chatter, and note the apparent affection between them, I become rather wistful and think....
Why can't that be me?
While standing in line at the Fresh Market, I'm waiting in line behind a woman and her daughter, and the daughter's friend (I assume). The mother is about ten years older than I am, and her daughter looks about thirteen. As I listen to their idle chatter, and note the apparent affection between them, I become rather wistful and think....
Why can't that be me?
Rebelling through Fashion
I'll let you in on a little secret...
I'm wearing shoes my dog ate.
To work.
With jeans.
Rebellion - one article of clothing at a time.
I'm wearing shoes my dog ate.
To work.
With jeans.
Rebellion - one article of clothing at a time.
20080213
I got the new Spiegel catalog today, and I've gotta say one thing:
The clothes in here look like something Celine Dion designed to wear around the pool while lounging with your weird ass husband and child.
Ugh.
Other smattery commentary:
Very shameful that Blue Cross was encouraging their plan participant doctors to immediately notify the carrier when someone presented with a pre existing condition that they didn't disclose. WTF? Another way for greedy bastards to screw you - making sure they can deny health care coverage to you on a whim based on a condition that may or may not be pre-existing. It's only pre existing anyway if you know you don't have it...so, screw them.
Another heartfelt fuck you to our friend Mr. Hilton, who negotiated with authorities for the safe passage of his dog before confessing to Ms. Emerson's killing and leading them to her body. So...you want to make sure your dog doesn't get gassed, but you have no remorse for the people you killed.
Other stuff:
It's a well known fact that men who perform "choreplay" get more. When people have time to relax, they start to think about nookie....even quiet time is good!
The yammering of the right wing pundits is going to drive voter's away from McCain and toward other candidates. The more they endorse Huckabee, and disparage McCain...well, I think folks that don't care for Huckabee will start seriously thinking about another candidate. Perhaps. Does it matter?
Yes, Virginia, I'm not tax rebate eligible, but you are! In fact, let me write you a check for a few hundred bucks right now and skip the middleman. I like this bit of socialism disguised as economic stimulus.
Terror trials: You have basic rights as a human being. One of those rights enables you to due process under law. Just because you aren't a citizen of this particular country doesn't mean you should be deprived of your basic human rights.
The world's cutest beagle wins a dog show - finally. Woof Woof! (from Maddy and Zoe).
I'm sure I'll think of more.
The clothes in here look like something Celine Dion designed to wear around the pool while lounging with your weird ass husband and child.
Ugh.
Other smattery commentary:
Very shameful that Blue Cross was encouraging their plan participant doctors to immediately notify the carrier when someone presented with a pre existing condition that they didn't disclose. WTF? Another way for greedy bastards to screw you - making sure they can deny health care coverage to you on a whim based on a condition that may or may not be pre-existing. It's only pre existing anyway if you know you don't have it...so, screw them.
Another heartfelt fuck you to our friend Mr. Hilton, who negotiated with authorities for the safe passage of his dog before confessing to Ms. Emerson's killing and leading them to her body. So...you want to make sure your dog doesn't get gassed, but you have no remorse for the people you killed.
Other stuff:
It's a well known fact that men who perform "choreplay" get more. When people have time to relax, they start to think about nookie....even quiet time is good!
The yammering of the right wing pundits is going to drive voter's away from McCain and toward other candidates. The more they endorse Huckabee, and disparage McCain...well, I think folks that don't care for Huckabee will start seriously thinking about another candidate. Perhaps. Does it matter?
Yes, Virginia, I'm not tax rebate eligible, but you are! In fact, let me write you a check for a few hundred bucks right now and skip the middleman. I like this bit of socialism disguised as economic stimulus.
Terror trials: You have basic rights as a human being. One of those rights enables you to due process under law. Just because you aren't a citizen of this particular country doesn't mean you should be deprived of your basic human rights.
The world's cutest beagle wins a dog show - finally. Woof Woof! (from Maddy and Zoe).
I'm sure I'll think of more.
So there's a 25th anniversary edition of "Thriller" coming out. Arguably Michael Jackson's greatest album - arguably!
It's an interesting snapshot in time - you can look at Michael and be reminded of what he looked like before he became a bleached out plastic child ass wanting alien from another planet, instead of just a regular old black man!
It's an interesting snapshot in time - you can look at Michael and be reminded of what he looked like before he became a bleached out plastic child ass wanting alien from another planet, instead of just a regular old black man!
I confess, I was bitchy yesterday.
I had a frustrating conversation with the fellow I suspect will become my permanent boss regarding our in house annual resume/review system and I just got pissed off. I admit that I've a bad attitude, based on history (two sales/mergers resulting in lay offs); loyalty is not high on my list. Plus, I feel like the personal relationship I've enjoyed with our CIO and his promises to me mean...diddly squat! So...as it was pointed out...nothing personal! D'oh!
Don't you love it when you finally have the means to do what you want when you want it?
I had a frustrating conversation with the fellow I suspect will become my permanent boss regarding our in house annual resume/review system and I just got pissed off. I admit that I've a bad attitude, based on history (two sales/mergers resulting in lay offs); loyalty is not high on my list. Plus, I feel like the personal relationship I've enjoyed with our CIO and his promises to me mean...diddly squat! So...as it was pointed out...nothing personal! D'oh!
Don't you love it when you finally have the means to do what you want when you want it?
20080212
20080211
So the big girl bed is in and installed!
As with the best laid plans, much proceeded to go awry on Friday.
The bed was supposed to be a surprise. However, it is hard to surprise someone when the delivery people show up AN HOUR early (an unbeforeheardofexperience). Then the bed had to go in the garage. So Little Old Eliza decides to take apart the four poster bed, move it all downstairs, and haul the bed upstairs by her lonesome. Ok, well, the head and foot boards of the old bed are still upstairs, but the side rails and bolts and nuts and things are downstairs. I even carried the new bed upstairs....except for the headboard, which I carried precariously into the house, got halfway up the stairs before saying "fuck it" and going back down to the living room. Heavy! Mr. Manners was kind enough to carry the rest of the stuff upstairs for me, and I got the room set up post haste! It's rather nice having a bed that matches other pieces of furniture.
Now why would anyone in the family assume that I would, having rescued the four poster from an ebay auction, give the bed away? I have given past items away, true, but not without asking everyone in the family prior. I had no intention of giving the bed away - it could sit in my garage along with the other bits and pieces of family storage I seem to be acquiring - but it has been spoken for, and so it shall be held until such time as the speaking person comes to pick it up.
Anyway, the new bed is lovely, and I feel like an adult now...and it doesn't move or squeak or make weird noises like the four poster! And best of all: IT CAN BE MOVED AROUND THE ROOM.
I'm sure my neighbors hate me; yesterday saw another attempt at removing huge and mongous piles of dead leaves from my front yard. The pool service came and blew off the cover last week, but blew the leaves off in such a way as to make me feel like a bad pool mommy. That's my number one complaint about this yard and living in a neighborhood; I love the trees, would never cut them down...and if I didn't live in a neighborhood I wouldn't bother to rake! I manage about five bags a session...so far, that's fifteen bags and I've not even done HALF the front yard.
Anyway, I can't be bothered about thinking about anything serious today. Enjoy your Monday!
As with the best laid plans, much proceeded to go awry on Friday.
The bed was supposed to be a surprise. However, it is hard to surprise someone when the delivery people show up AN HOUR early (an unbeforeheardofexperience). Then the bed had to go in the garage. So Little Old Eliza decides to take apart the four poster bed, move it all downstairs, and haul the bed upstairs by her lonesome. Ok, well, the head and foot boards of the old bed are still upstairs, but the side rails and bolts and nuts and things are downstairs. I even carried the new bed upstairs....except for the headboard, which I carried precariously into the house, got halfway up the stairs before saying "fuck it" and going back down to the living room. Heavy! Mr. Manners was kind enough to carry the rest of the stuff upstairs for me, and I got the room set up post haste! It's rather nice having a bed that matches other pieces of furniture.
Now why would anyone in the family assume that I would, having rescued the four poster from an ebay auction, give the bed away? I have given past items away, true, but not without asking everyone in the family prior. I had no intention of giving the bed away - it could sit in my garage along with the other bits and pieces of family storage I seem to be acquiring - but it has been spoken for, and so it shall be held until such time as the speaking person comes to pick it up.
Anyway, the new bed is lovely, and I feel like an adult now...and it doesn't move or squeak or make weird noises like the four poster! And best of all: IT CAN BE MOVED AROUND THE ROOM.
I'm sure my neighbors hate me; yesterday saw another attempt at removing huge and mongous piles of dead leaves from my front yard. The pool service came and blew off the cover last week, but blew the leaves off in such a way as to make me feel like a bad pool mommy. That's my number one complaint about this yard and living in a neighborhood; I love the trees, would never cut them down...and if I didn't live in a neighborhood I wouldn't bother to rake! I manage about five bags a session...so far, that's fifteen bags and I've not even done HALF the front yard.
Anyway, I can't be bothered about thinking about anything serious today. Enjoy your Monday!
20080207
Funny
A coworker is relaying a story to me, a story that goes like this:
A site leader at another site had noticed the more relaxed attire being worn by folks at the office, and wanted to remind people that we are currently "Business Casual" (i.e. No Jeans, except on Fridays or before a holiday or a half day).
So he chose to walk up to a random employee wearing jeans, and gently reminded him of the dress policy.
The random employee, I'm quite certain, looked at said site leader in disbelief, and said "fuck you! You just laid me off!"
Love it!
The site leader then goes to complain to HR, but immediately does a uturn when hitting the HR office - the HR site lead is wearing jeans herself!
A site leader at another site had noticed the more relaxed attire being worn by folks at the office, and wanted to remind people that we are currently "Business Casual" (i.e. No Jeans, except on Fridays or before a holiday or a half day).
So he chose to walk up to a random employee wearing jeans, and gently reminded him of the dress policy.
The random employee, I'm quite certain, looked at said site leader in disbelief, and said "fuck you! You just laid me off!"
Love it!
The site leader then goes to complain to HR, but immediately does a uturn when hitting the HR office - the HR site lead is wearing jeans herself!
Things that are Icky:
1. Shaking someone's hand who suffers from Moist Hand Syndrome.
2. Towels that have been used just a day too long, and smell like mold.
3. Bugs that jump on your head. Die, bugs, Die! Swear, scarred for life. Shattered a window, screeching so loud.
4. Ye Ole Odour of Cat Piss
5. You know when you fill up the sink to wash dishes and put them into soak and the water gets this nasty funky film on to it? Yeah, icky.
6. Decomposing leaves. Yes, I'm sorry, I know it's good for the earth, but...try fishing those out of a gutter, half rotted, thoroughly wet and full of icky bugs?
7. Breath of Rotted Squirrel, a Zoe speciality.
Anyone else?
1. Shaking someone's hand who suffers from Moist Hand Syndrome.
2. Towels that have been used just a day too long, and smell like mold.
3. Bugs that jump on your head. Die, bugs, Die! Swear, scarred for life. Shattered a window, screeching so loud.
4. Ye Ole Odour of Cat Piss
5. You know when you fill up the sink to wash dishes and put them into soak and the water gets this nasty funky film on to it? Yeah, icky.
6. Decomposing leaves. Yes, I'm sorry, I know it's good for the earth, but...try fishing those out of a gutter, half rotted, thoroughly wet and full of icky bugs?
7. Breath of Rotted Squirrel, a Zoe speciality.
Anyone else?
20080206
I've been asked before what my migraines are like:
1. First, make your stomach hot in that way you get when you've eaten something that doesn't agree with you. Break out into a cold sweat, and have chills.
2. Take a spoon, stab it through your skull, and proceed to dig a tunnel through your brain with it.
3. Vomit.
4. Make your heart beat suddenly echo in the tunnel your spoon just drug (----leaving this as freudian slip!).
5. Put ice pack on head, look for drugs, and hope like hell you can medicate yourself into oblivion until it passes.
Let's put it this way: I went to work for an hour, puked, went home. Did not dial into work. Did not answer phones. Was asleep at eleven, stayed mostly asleep until SIX. Got up once to let dogs out, and got very dizzy and nearly fell. That's it.
It's now 9.23, and I JUST feel human. Ate Chinese, which always seems to somehow magically stay down when the stomach is upset.
1. First, make your stomach hot in that way you get when you've eaten something that doesn't agree with you. Break out into a cold sweat, and have chills.
2. Take a spoon, stab it through your skull, and proceed to dig a tunnel through your brain with it.
3. Vomit.
4. Make your heart beat suddenly echo in the tunnel your spoon just drug (----leaving this as freudian slip!).
5. Put ice pack on head, look for drugs, and hope like hell you can medicate yourself into oblivion until it passes.
Let's put it this way: I went to work for an hour, puked, went home. Did not dial into work. Did not answer phones. Was asleep at eleven, stayed mostly asleep until SIX. Got up once to let dogs out, and got very dizzy and nearly fell. That's it.
It's now 9.23, and I JUST feel human. Ate Chinese, which always seems to somehow magically stay down when the stomach is upset.
20080205
So today is an election day, with Georgia being a Super Tuesday state and all.
And now I'm going to fuss at you people, specifically, women. How many times have I heard someone say, someone female, that they aren't going to vote. Darlings, the things you enjoy today as a common practice came about because women have argued for the right to vote since the 1820's. The 1820's! These women, who had no rights under law, not even to their own bodies or their children, worked against the social values of the time to make sure that their great great great great granddaughters would have more freedom, and more rights than they have. Everytime I hear a woman say she's not going to vote I could just...kick them. Hard. The Nineteenth Amendment is all about the final recognition that women have the same rights as men, as spelled out in the Constitution. Get to the polls, damnit, and make yourself heard.
And this is for everyone else who doesn't vote:
1. If you don't vote, you've no right to complain.
2. Do you feel strongly about the right to bear arms?
3. Do you feel strongly about the deficit?
4. Do you feel strongly about foreign policy?
5. Are you pissed off because your money doesn't go as far as it used to?
6. Are you pissed off because you lost your job to someone who works across the world?
7. Are you pissed off because you can't get health insurance?
8. Are you pissed off because no one listens to you, and you think your opinion doesn't matter?
9. Are you tired of the socialization of our government?
10. Are you tired of government programs that redistribute wealth?
11. Do you really think the money you pay into Social Security will be there when you retire?
12. Are you tired of hearing about people losing their jobs because companies don't show year over year growth?
13. Don't you think we should have some kind of viable plan for Iraq? that maybe calls for a gradual withdrawal and a transfer of power into the Iraqi government?
14. Aren't you worried about the government gradually encroaching more and
more into your personal business?
15. Aren't you sick of paying taxes to support Fat Cats who do nothing but blather and filibuster?
16. Doesn't it nauseate you to see politicos rolling around in expensive cars, and living in mansions?
17. Don't you think the government should be more representative of the rest of us? Do you really think Congress actually represents the make up of the United States? I'll give you a hint: according to the last Census, there are more women in the U.S. than men....so...????
You want to have a say in what goes on in our domestic world, get your ass out and vote.
And now I'm going to fuss at you people, specifically, women. How many times have I heard someone say, someone female, that they aren't going to vote. Darlings, the things you enjoy today as a common practice came about because women have argued for the right to vote since the 1820's. The 1820's! These women, who had no rights under law, not even to their own bodies or their children, worked against the social values of the time to make sure that their great great great great granddaughters would have more freedom, and more rights than they have. Everytime I hear a woman say she's not going to vote I could just...kick them. Hard. The Nineteenth Amendment is all about the final recognition that women have the same rights as men, as spelled out in the Constitution. Get to the polls, damnit, and make yourself heard.
And this is for everyone else who doesn't vote:
1. If you don't vote, you've no right to complain.
2. Do you feel strongly about the right to bear arms?
3. Do you feel strongly about the deficit?
4. Do you feel strongly about foreign policy?
5. Are you pissed off because your money doesn't go as far as it used to?
6. Are you pissed off because you lost your job to someone who works across the world?
7. Are you pissed off because you can't get health insurance?
8. Are you pissed off because no one listens to you, and you think your opinion doesn't matter?
9. Are you tired of the socialization of our government?
10. Are you tired of government programs that redistribute wealth?
11. Do you really think the money you pay into Social Security will be there when you retire?
12. Are you tired of hearing about people losing their jobs because companies don't show year over year growth?
13. Don't you think we should have some kind of viable plan for Iraq? that maybe calls for a gradual withdrawal and a transfer of power into the Iraqi government?
14. Aren't you worried about the government gradually encroaching more and
more into your personal business?
15. Aren't you sick of paying taxes to support Fat Cats who do nothing but blather and filibuster?
16. Doesn't it nauseate you to see politicos rolling around in expensive cars, and living in mansions?
17. Don't you think the government should be more representative of the rest of us? Do you really think Congress actually represents the make up of the United States? I'll give you a hint: according to the last Census, there are more women in the U.S. than men....so...????
You want to have a say in what goes on in our domestic world, get your ass out and vote.
20080204
Do you really want to know how my day started?
Here I am, eyeball less, in the shower enjoying my nice new showerhead.
When a roach attacks me from no where, and jumps on my face.
Thanks to Mr. Manner's bottle of shampoo and conditioner (mine are too empty to do much damage), a headless roach is now making it's way down the Fulton County Sewer System.
Paging my exterminator, stat!!!!!
Here I am, eyeball less, in the shower enjoying my nice new showerhead.
When a roach attacks me from no where, and jumps on my face.
Thanks to Mr. Manner's bottle of shampoo and conditioner (mine are too empty to do much damage), a headless roach is now making it's way down the Fulton County Sewer System.
Paging my exterminator, stat!!!!!
Tom Brady sucks, Tom Brady sucks.
Kidding.
Well, no I'm not.
I don't know how great the game was; I was too busy doing schoolwork last night to pay attention. I keep telling myself: twelve more classes, twelve more classes.
Slept like a rock last night. Mr. Manners and I were up very late the night before setting up Fred and Ginger in their new home. Well, Mr. Manners set it up...I made dinner and provided moral support!
Bright at cheery (not) at work this morning. The bosses are coming today or tomorrow...so...actually made an effort to look professional, rather than wearing a sweatshirt and jeans to the office as I normally do.....
Kidding.
Well, no I'm not.
I don't know how great the game was; I was too busy doing schoolwork last night to pay attention. I keep telling myself: twelve more classes, twelve more classes.
Slept like a rock last night. Mr. Manners and I were up very late the night before setting up Fred and Ginger in their new home. Well, Mr. Manners set it up...I made dinner and provided moral support!
Bright at cheery (not) at work this morning. The bosses are coming today or tomorrow...so...actually made an effort to look professional, rather than wearing a sweatshirt and jeans to the office as I normally do.....
20080202
Well, everyone, happy Saturday.
We're contemplating buying a new bed frame. I love, love love the four poster, but I like to be able to rearrange my bedroom, and I can't. The bed as it currently stands can't be moved from one location, and it makes the room seem, well, wonky. Plus, it squeaks. I've been looking at platform beds, and I'm kind of excited. A new bed, two matching nightstands....it's like finally getting a big girl bed! LOL!
So the fireplace now burns wood. The gas bill was killing me. And I had the trash folks come yesterday and get all the trash out of the garage; so minus the Bullfrog's possessions, and some restacking of the shelves, the garage floor is ACTUALLY visibile. Garages are evil. Who puts their car in one? It's mostly shit.
Anyhoo, off to move a fishtank.
We're contemplating buying a new bed frame. I love, love love the four poster, but I like to be able to rearrange my bedroom, and I can't. The bed as it currently stands can't be moved from one location, and it makes the room seem, well, wonky. Plus, it squeaks. I've been looking at platform beds, and I'm kind of excited. A new bed, two matching nightstands....it's like finally getting a big girl bed! LOL!
So the fireplace now burns wood. The gas bill was killing me. And I had the trash folks come yesterday and get all the trash out of the garage; so minus the Bullfrog's possessions, and some restacking of the shelves, the garage floor is ACTUALLY visibile. Garages are evil. Who puts their car in one? It's mostly shit.
Anyhoo, off to move a fishtank.
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