Forgiveness

There comes a time in everyone's life where you have to stop carrying around the sins of your past like a piece of sackcloth, smearing yourself with ashes every few months like some ultra penitent Franciscan. I admit quite fully that I am human, that I am not infallible, and that I make mistakes.

I am not the sum of my mistakes, and neither is anyone else.

I do not judge others by their mistakes; what gives you the right to judge me by mine?

The details of my marriage and divorce are things I will never again speak of to another human being. I am fully aware of my own sins, of my ex-husband’s sins, and I do not need to be “pre judged” by anyone else in the future. I am not proud of my marriage, I am not proud of the person I became. By the way, I punish myself enough, thank you, and do not need anyone else’s help in this matter.

Only now have I gotten to a point in life where I feel good about myself. I am relatively content with my house, with myself, with my family, and with my career. I have made peace with my past. It is what it is. And I’m proud of the life I have carved out for myself, issue laden as it is, it is still mine, and I made it for myself.

Ironically, this has taught me that full disclosure of one’s past is going to have negative repercussions no matter whom you tell. It makes you have a lot of faith in humanity, it truly does.

Animals in Prison

So I went to the aquarium with Mr. Manners this weekend.

Imagine his surprise when he found out that the present his ex girlfriend gave him - a membership to the aquarium - had been transferred to her sister (who doesn't even live in the United States!).

Y'all know that I do not like aquariums, zoos, circuses, etc. I do not like animals in cages, in plexiglass, in wire, etc.

However, except for all the idiots wandering around, I will say that I had a nice time, and that Bernie did a nice job.

Simply Smashing

The day started off just great.

I went to take the trash out, and do a few little things outside before it got hell hot, and Maddy took my glasses off the bathroom counter and ate them. Not ate them like just gnawed on the plastic. Ate them like ate off all the plastic, popped out a lens, and scratched the lenses so badly they are unuseable. When I saw them on the floor, they looked kinda ok...until I picked them up.

Then I did something I'm not proud of. I had one of what I call "daddy moments". Growing up, my dad had a really scary bad temper, and we were all afraid of making him mad (until we realized it was mostly bluster when we got older - sorry, Dad!). You know, that kind of roaring, throwing things, kicking doors, punching things (not people) kind of angry. I have that temper too, but I try to keep a very tight lid on it because I don't think that is appropriate behavior. Anyhow, when I picked the glasses up, I flipped out. I grabbed Maddy by the scruff and started screeching at her "you are such a bad fucking dog...why do you gotta do this to me?" and spanking her like there was no tomorrow. Now, she doesn't try to wiggle off or run away or bite, she just lays there and takes it. So I let her go and she ran to her bed.

"Why, Mommy, why?" from her little puppy eyes...which made me really just start to sob. And sob.

Little Miss Maddy pops out of her bed and comes over, nuzzles me, and lays on my feet. I love my dog. I was an ass (so was she) and she loves me anyway.

So off to Dr. R's I go; I have to spend $500 on a new pair. I just bought these last October. I'm still pretty mad. I almost got rearended in Dr. R's parking lot (I would have stroked out).

Now, why is it that other people cannot just let one be grumpy when one is grumpy? I'm not necessarily talking about me, but when someone is in a bad mood why is it everyone's first instinct to try and cheer them up? Why? Don't you know that sometimes people just want to be left alone? Solitude isn't a thing to be feared...it is in fact quite lovely. A time for reflection, meditation, or just plain getting things done.

So the next time someone is in a bad mood, for crap's sake stop trying to cheer them up. Ask politely. If they seem uninterested, leave them alone. On behalf of grumpy people everywhere, we thank you for it :-)

Another worthy article of note:

Thank Psychology Today

"You are not valuing your own self enough to make yourself a full partner to a relationship. That failure to validate yourself is going to undermine any choice you ever make. If you respected yourself more, you would be able to exercise your own judgment—and see that you've limited your possibilities to two men with serious flaws for a relationship. It's almost impossible to build a joint future—the purpose of marriage—with someone who has different views of life than you do, unless you talk those views out thoroughly and can make them mesh in very specific ways."

And from another article, for any women out there who have sat in a relationship or marriage for a long time before deciding to leave:

"The letters make it clear that the women fall for the guys quickly, then spend a long time in struggles to transform their mate before coming to rue their choice of partner."

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

Not that The Mirror is exactly a reputable news site, but I'm attaching excerpts from an article I read today anyway.

Top Ten Passion Killers

" 1 NEVER ARGUING

Couples who don't fall out may look like they have a perfect relationship but in reality the opposite is probably true.

"If you never argue, at least one person's needs aren't being met," says sex and relationship counsellor Denise Knowles.

"This may eventually lead to resentment or emotional distance," explains Denise.

Either way, it doesn't make for satisfying sex because you're not in touch with what you want.

"Think about what you want from your relationship - not just sexually," she says.

"Then suggest doing these things. Look out for local events, classes or activities to inspire you. Take one step at a time."

2 NAME CALLING

Arguing can resolve conflict but do it in the wrong way and you can cause permanent damage.

According to US psychologist Dr John Gottman from Boston University, it takes five positive comments to balance one negative comment such as name-calling.

He and his colleagues listened to a 15-minute conversation between 700 newly-married couples, noting the ratio between negative and positive comments.

Using this 5:1 ratio as a guide, they predicted whether or not the couples would stay together over the next 10 years with startling 94 per cent accuracy.

Denise explains: "When you call someone a name, you're moving away from the issue and attacking them personally.

"Put-downs such as 'fat bitch' are hurtful, never forgotten and unlikely to inspire passion."

3 NO QUALITY TIME

One or both of you work long hours and by the time you've put the kids to bed, you have barely enough energy to watch TV.

"Practicalities get in the way because they're often urgent.

"But if this happens to the exclusion of everything else, it can be a serious passion killer."

Block out time every week for you and your partner to have an uninterrupted hour or so to get back in touch with each other as individuals.

If you can't afford a night out at a fancy restaurant, go for a walk or send the kids on a sleepover, order a takeaway, open a bottle of wine and switch the phone to voicemail.

"Keep the conversation away from anything domestic - this is quality time," says Denise.

4 EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

It starts as casual flirting at work but soon you find you're looking forward to overtime because your fellow flirtee will be there. You start going for drinks together and even confiding stuff about your personal life.

"It's fine to have friends of the opposite sex but if you get close to someone at the expense of intimacy with your partner, your relationship could become damaged even if you don't have a fullblown affair," warns Denise. "This situation may be the first sign that all isn't well at home."

Think about why it's happened and address any issues with your partner (you don't have to admit you're attracted to someone else).

5 POOR BODY IMAGE

You've recently put on weight. Your partner insists you look great but you hate being seen naked and will do almost anything to avoid sex.

"You may not be able to transform yourself into a supermodel, but there are always things you can do to improve how you look and feel," says Denise.

Set small goals - for instance, a realistic exercise programme that fits in with your lifestyle and will help you tone up.

Buy yourself some flattering underwear, have a makeover and concentrate on your good points.

.......

10 STUCK IN A SEX RUT

When you first met, you couldn't leave each other alone. Now you'd rather go shopping than get it on.

Tracey Cox reckons the main obstacle to sex in long-term relationships is the misguided belief that it has to be a marathon. In her book Quickies (£6.39, Dorling Kindersley) she advises forgetting about orgasm as a goal and making the most of snatched periods of time to build up sexual tension so that when you do finally have sex it'll be explosive.

She also suggests sending sexy texts, having sex in different places, introducing sex toys, new positions and surprising your partner by ditching the passion-killer nightwear in favour of something a little more risque now and again.

This sends the message you think your partner's worth impressing, which makes them feel good so they make the effort back." .....

Friends

A friend and I were chatting, and we got to wondering:

Do you think you subconciously chose your friends because they have something you lack? Are they the check to your balance?

I have friends that are impulsive and social; those of you who know me know that I am NEVER impulsive (I overthink) and I am definitely not social(hermit comes to mind).

I have friends that are serious, quality bargain hunters, while I am defintely not.

See what I'm saying?

WTF Blogger ate this the first time.

Was also looking at trips abroad. The dollar is too weak. I love our current economic policy. Let the dollar stay week, because it encourages exports and sales of US products abroad. Meanwhile, people who want to travel or invest abroad are screwed.

Here is something else to think about:

What I wrote below could happen to you, at any time, at any place. Your life could just about be erased. You could never be heard from again. You could just...disappear?

Think I'm wrong? Think again. If it's easy for someone to steal your identity (hit your mailbox, your trash, rob your house, lift your wallet, phish you) and ruin your life, it is just as easy for some anonymous person/persons to come and whisk you off.

It's a slippery moral slope indeed, sanctioning torture as a government. But then again...who said government existed to be moral? I thought it existed to protect the interests of it's people? You can also make the argument that we should not torture just because our ever shifting and nebulous "enemies" do it...and that by doing it, we lower ourselves to their level. To which I say PSHAW! or perhaps PHOEY! It becomes a matter of splitting a hair. If you accept that taking another human life is wrong, then by extension war must be wrong (regardless of circumstance), therefore self defense is wrong (meek shall inherit, etc), and therefore you should lay down and let things be perpetrated against you.

Right. It's natural to fear death. It's natural to fight back, to stand up for yourself and assert yourself when threatened. 50 years of National Geographic should have taught us all that :-)

BTW, just because I said I agree with it doesn't mean I could do it myself. I would be frighteningly comfortable with the psychological aspects of it, but physical torture, sexual degredation, etc. would not be my cup of tea.

I find it ironic that I'm even having these thoughts. I consider myself a pacifist. I abhor violence. I do not even like boxing. I have only ever hit one person in my life (and I kicked her at that). I am still afraid of guns. I find the root of a modern war or conflict is always about economic gain, and not about an ideal. And yet to stop a war from happening - to stop so called collateral damage where the lives of other entirely innocent people happen to be claimed as we kill each other for whatever flavor we have this month - can one not make a case for SELECTIVELY being a bit persuasive?

Even some of the things I've read I've found disgusting. Modern tools aren't designed to just kill (like the Iron Maiden - ever seen one of those in real life? ugh), they are designed to break both your mind and your body. Waterboarding - strapping someone down and pouring water on their face to simulate drowning. Experts claim that if done properly waterboarding causes no lasting physical damage. If done improperly, the subject can break bones, have brain damage and die. It would be harder to say what it does to someone psychologically, but I've read where it has made people afraid to do simple daily tasks like take a shower. Can you imagine being afraid to take a shower? Ok, yes, I agree - that's a fucking bad thing, and no one should be subjected to that.

It does happen though. We do it to our own people to prepare them in case they are ever captured by enemy forces.

What about sensory deprivation? Is that torture? Some people do it for fun? Extended deprivation of all the senses can literally drive you mad. Wouldn't you break? The minute you saw light, or heard a noise other than the beat of your own heart, which you could feel but not hear, the relief would overwhelm you and you'd feel such gratitude that you would say anything to anyone just to not ever go back in the box.

Like I said: these things don't exactly sit comfortably with me. However...if the lives of 300 children and 50 teachers are at risk due to an impending biological attack, you had better bet that I will find out what I need to know in order to prevent those deaths.

Anyway, sorry, off soapbox.

I'm not offended at anything anyone has to say on this subject. I'm very curious actually to hear other POV's. I'd never really considered a stance on this until this year, except to blanketly say that "torture is wrong".

I've had a rethink.

Representation

Say you are someone taken captive by a government. Say said government whisks you away to a secret facility, where you are stripped, cavity searched, shoved naked into a room, given irregular portions of food at irregular hours, are denied sunlight, are innundated with white noise, are forced to stand for a day, or squat for two, or waterboarded. After a while, you lose track of who you are, or where you are, and your entire world becomes the walls of your cell. The outside world means nothing, and you are entirely dependent upon your captors.

Meanwhile, your family is wondering what happened to you. Where did you go? Where are you? Repeated requests for information both from your government and theirs are met with silence or outright denials. Rumors abound of "housing facilities" in other countries where people who fall into a "gray" status are kept. Is their child there? How would they find out? Could they sue? If they could, who would they sue?

Do you realize at this point that in the eyes of the world at large you no longer exist?

Do you realize that this fate could befall any of us at any moment?

Here is my issue: I support torture. Yes, yes I do. I believe that the application of torture (when carefully applied) can serve the best interests of the public at large. I am perfectly fine with sacrificing the right of the one to protect the rights of the many. Perfectly. I am not naive. The U.S. does torture; we just do not do it domestically. We do it in other countries, or through intermediaries, so at first blush we aren't getting our hands dirty. Don't lie to me and tell me we don't torture. Tell the public the truth - say yes, we torture, and we saved xxx amount of lives last year in a proposed terrorist attack due to information we were able to extract. Don't obscure the truth. Don't pass laws saying "combatants must be treated according to the Geneva Convention" and then by Executive Order sneakily circumvent this by passing your own bill that allows you to continue your offshore information collection programs.

Here are my two challenges: 1) I think everyone, regardless of national origin or religious preference (or plain nuttiness) has the basic right to legal representation. I find it immoral for any government to deny any detainee access to legal counsel. I find it inhumane to deny any detainee access to their families. But how do you allow someone to have legal counsel if that person doesn't technically exist? If the facility in which they are stored (Poland, Egypt, Israel, Mexico, Cuba, Germany, Russia) doesn't exist on paper? If the transport of those non existing people - flight manifests, private and government vehicle mileage reports and satellite tracks, etc. - is deliberately muddied thus obscuring the trail?

Lastly, so you've tortured this person you plucked from the field months ago, and reduced him to a shell of himself. What do you do with him? You can't take him home - he'd talk. You can't release him in a hospitable country...he'd still talk. What do you do?

Of course, knowing us, we'd just outsource his execution.

Was very thrilled to come home tonight, and to check email, only to discover that two friends whom I love dearly (but had fallen out of touch with) have had their first child.

Welcome to the world, little Kamren Lee!

WOW p2

A kind reader did point out to me that there are certain people who like to embrace said words in a bedroom context and find the use of said words rather naughty and thrilling.

Bully for them.

It just makes me think of housewife porn:

"Oh Thaddeus, please thrust your throbbing cock into my moist pussy".

I read in the paper this morning that the woman (here in Atlanta) who was killed last week along with two of her daughters was beaten to death. Her son and another young male relative are still in the hospital. She was in the U.S. seeking asylum for herself and her children - I believe she was Kenyan, and seeking to prevent her daughters from being forced to undergo female circumcision.

Sunday, I read about an African woman who was raped by a soldier. When he was finished, he put his rifle into her vagina and emptied the cartridge. Not only did she live, she walked for help herself. She now wants to become a nurse.

A retiree kills his wife with a nail gun, and then turns it on himself.

Another woman killed, presumably by a boyfriend, wrapped in sheets and blankets, and left in her apartment, wedged between the bed and the wall. Her head was wrapped in towels.

Shall I continue?

Words O Wisdom

Cunt

Whore

Slut

Bitch

Ever wonder why the worst words you can call someone are all related somehow to being a woman, and are all sexual slurs?

You'll note there are no equivalents that can be directed at men. Calling someone a bastard or an asshole or a cocksucker just doesn't have the same ring.

Ah, two thousand years of women being valued only for their role as sexual and reproductive objects have left us with SUCH a rich vocabulary.

Made you Giggle

Courtesy of the NYTimes today:

Thai police who misbehave are forced to wear a FREAKING Hello Kitty Armband!

Everyone's a Critic

Miss Madeline's taste in literature is developing, it seems.

Today, she informs me that she finds The Bell Jar quite unpalatable.

Indeed, undigestable.

As evidenced by the artfully shredded book all over my living room floor.

Please note that she left the neighboring copy of The Illiad alone.

I really haven't given much thought to the meaning behind my online moniker until...well, just now.

Eliza Dolittle. Portrayed quite beautifully/radiantly by Audrey Hepburn. Cockney flower girl seeks to improve station in life by paying for speech lessons. Rain in Spain and all that. Finds professor of elocution. Learns to speak the proper Kings English. Becomes a tool of the professor's arrogance, and yet still manages to fall in love with him. Has someone fall in love with her that could offer her an escape, and yet turns that down and returns to the professor, who realizes after all that he is in the wrong, and that she is the right one for him. I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face...the way she whistles night and noon...her ups her downs...are second nature to me now...like breathing out and breathing in....

Which brought me to an interesting point: why do we want the people we love to change? Why do we tell ourselves things like "I'd marry him if only he'd (insert here: grow up, get a job, put the seat down, wear matching socks, call his mother, mow the grass)" or say things like "Well, she's great but she's not wife material because (insert here: she's sloppy, she puts the toilet paper on the wrong way, she doesn't like to cook, she wants someone to look after her, she only does laundry once a month, she spends too much money, etc.).

As LG pointed out, the very things that initially attract us to someone end up being the things that we MOST want to change. Why is that?

Being a pop culture whore today (please note frequent use of the word doesn't disempower it), I conclude with a statement from a world famous, profound mariner:

"I am what I am" (toot toot!)

I have to think that out of extreme misery comes things of extreme joy. You know, Van Gogh was definitely gaga, and yet he managed to create some of the most beautiful and enduring works of art known to us today. Tchaikosvky (not bothering with spellcheck, sorry) was a depressed, gay bastard....but he sure did write some lovely music. Beethoven was depressed and partially deaf, but managed to write what he only could hear in his head. I don't think Hemingway was particularly happy either - now, I'm not too fond of his works, but arguably he's one of the American "greats".

How does one channel that blackness of emotion into something creative? I mean, it eats at you, doesn't it? If you are a creative person, and you have such issues, do you have to create in order to keep that blackness at bay?

Just curious.

It's a really bad idea to let me go to bed angry or upset. I tend to stew on it all night, and whatever was making me angry the night/day before just upsets me all the more.

You know, time teaches you to be a flexible person. I don't mean touching your toes, I mean, mentally and emotionally flexible. You learn to apologize and mean it, you learn to admit it when you are wrong, and to do it with grace and style. I admit it when I'm wrong (when I realize it), and if I was horrid, I apologize. It's a simple formula for keeping the peace, be it with friendships, relationships, family or whatever. Veerrrryyy simple, and learned at the parental knee. It's not a weakness; it's a sign of maturity.

Why don't some people get it?

Life Goes On, Yeah

La da da da life goes on!

Happy Thursday! Seems there never is enough time in the week to do anything these days, least of all time to take out for myself. How did that happen?

Nothing exciting happening in la la land. The normal SOSDD rules apply. Normal strife, work b/s (how is it when you take a vacation day and end up working your boss doesn't say "You know, Eliza, since you worked all day, this day doesn't COUNT as a vacation day?" - Just Curious). We've finally gotten to the part of the database class that I should be good at - the part where you do something instead of sitting around talking about freaking theory. The professional communications class? Oh, 100, of course. *yawn* No mid terms in either class, which is good...otherwise I'd be tied to the house this weekend.

And in relation to retail therapy - I was right. Mall, Money - everything sucks! I found one item that I really, really liked....and I may spend lots of money on a good Coach bag, but ask me to spend $130 on a sweater and I balk. Weird, I know. The fall stuff isn't really "in" yet...and what I saw wasn't impressive. Why is there no stuff for in between people? I swear, it's either all tarty teenage clothes or really fussy middle age mom clothes. Can't I be appealing and well dressed and thirty three? Please don't say Ann Taylor - I hate AT. Stodgy. Banana, yes...and when I can afford it...Anthropologie! Lovely things in there, simply lovely. Otherwise, INC from Macy's and an assorted hodge podge of stuff. I think I have some pants from the Limited; for some reason I have bright pink cords...don't know what possessed me....I don't even like pink.

Anyway, quite rambling. Don't want to go to work. Want to stay in bed and work on the house and do a ton of nothing today. Haven't read a book in two weeks. Most unlike me.

Apologies, dear readers, have been really under the weather. Still feeling somewhat spacey today and completely overloaded with medicine.

Dearest LG, you know what they say about glass houses and the folks who live in them...consider the freaking source!

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.

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!

LG and I were talking....

Really, it behooves us all to get our own houses in order (metaphorically speaking, of course) before looking for partners/mates.

This is What Friends are For:

Molls to Eliza:

"You ARE a trophy in general"

LOL!

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?

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?

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?

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.

LG found this charming article. I think I want a copy of that book! It sounds rather cute!

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....

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!

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!

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".

Am in a bit of a Peter Gabriel kind of mood today. Not later Peter Gabriel (certainly not anything stupid like "Sledgehammer"), no...the earlier stuff. The kind of stuff that made Sinead his stalker for life.

Yeah, it's that kind of day.

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?

That was a publishing test. Blogger is sucking today. Hey google...what the hell are you doing?

pickles

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!!

To dump or not to dump, that is the question?

Do you dump a cheating partner or do you give them another chance?

If you’ve given them another chance, how do they go about regaining your trust?

If you were the cheatee…why?

Just curious.

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.

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!

Limerick Gal hit it dead on last night.

To paraphrase,

When someone doesn't want to be alone, and yet they don't really want you, they'll offer you whatever they need to in order to not be alone.

So in other words, it's not about you...it's about their fear of loneliness.

Interesting.

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.

Maddy just turned off the surge protector with her tail, plunging the whole room into darkness.

That's a first.

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...

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.

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!!

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?

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.....

Well....

Just thinking.

You realize that our independence was bought at the cost of the downfall of the French monarchy? (well, at least....strongly financed)

And then we returned the favor almost two hundred years later.

Strange.

Here's a thought for you:

Is necessity the mother of reinvention?

Have you screwed up your own immediate life so badly you have to re-create your own one over again?

I had an astounding thought.

If pain is nature's way of saying "don't do that".

Why do we keep doing things that hurt us?

My oh my, we humans ARE dumb.

Speaking of friends....Scooter Libby gets his sentence commuted? My oh my....they must have a very special friendship indeed.

I guess I know who I'm calling if I'm ever convicted of obstruction.

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!

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?

Bitter Bitches Club

Attached, please find the Bitter Bitches Club Application. Potential members must complete all fields prior to submission.

1. Have you been in a string of what could be termed negative relationships?

2. Have you had more than two negative relationships in a row?

3. Are you over the age of twenty five?

4. Do you own more than one pet?

5. Are you partial to cats or dogs?

6. Do you find that men say you make a great friend, but that you are not someone they would date? (this is man speak for: you are someone I'd shag if drunk, but not someone I'd take home to meet mommy)

7. Have you ever unknowingly dated someone with a criminal record/history of unemployment/who was married?

LG, Angel....any other questions?

BBC

Ladies of the blog o sphere:

Angel of Durham, LG and I have formed a club....a drumroll here would be appropriate.

We've decided to call it the B B C.

No, not for the network, or for...what is that...BBC Radio 1?

It's the Bitter Bitches Club! Membership applications may be filed with any of the three of us, and applications will be seriously studied. Hazing is, of course, to be expected.

Welcome, Angel, to the Blogworld! Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to offend/annoy/irritate/make people think as much as you possibly can!

You know, sometimes sex can greatly clarify things. Sometimes you should just do it and clear your mind, don't you think?

Apparently I'm wrong about the mind reading thing.....

Dear World: I am tired unto my marrow, as they say (whomever they are).

What I wish would happen, at about seven forty seven tonight, will not happen. No one is a mind reader.

This treble...waltz I am currently engaged in becomes wearisome, and swings from wild happiness to ridiculous anger. I am frankly at a loss; what does one do? so many paths, and only one really under one's control.

And I am a reflection of myself within myself, many many times over, focused down to the narrowest...me. And in this I am nothing. Every nick, every experience, every memory is ingrained in my very core like scales on a fish, making up the whole me as a skin. No one part can be excised without exposing another. So do forgive me my weaknesses, my insecurities, my absolute inability to be transparent. Forgive the fuck out of me.

What the hell was that?

In fact, morning has dawned with the utter surety that I do, indeed, have stupid written in invisible ink on my forehead. I must have an inability to learn from ANY past mistake. Here I am thinking that I am being kind and compassionate and understanding but instead I have things all completely freaking wrong and just manage to make things worse and upset myself in the process. Whatever. It’s a fine freaking line for me too, and I don’t like it one bit. I do not like to share – at all. Heck, based on my past experiences, HAVING to share makes me really self conscious and paranoid and suspicious. And full of doubt and anxiety, which makes me not pleasant to be around. I am making a conscious effort to overcome that, which is difficult, and I do not think I’m getting any points for that effort, or that it is being noticed at all.

Why is being happy so complex? Should it be?

Somehow I don’t think so.

Obviously, M'dear

I must have the word "stupid" written on my forehead in invisible ink

I'm having a bad case of baby itis.

And I can't sleep, even though I'm exhausted. The dogs are merrily slumbering away. I'm very tired...and instead of sleeping I am reclining here in my bed thinking alternately of sex, the fact that Great Big Sea played at Glastonbury, that I'd really like a Hot Fudge Sundae from McDonald's, and that I really should have made myself work in the backyard today rather than indolently lounging in my bed like some overfed and jewel bedecked pasha.

Sell By Date

Do relationships have a sell by date?

Do you, dear readers, have a timeline in your mind that says if you haven't crossed a certain milestone by a certain time, it's time to get out of the relationship? I don't mean the silly ones, like if someone hasn't held your hand by the fourth date (or whatever), I mean the big ones. Like...if you've been dating happily for two years, do you live together? Buy a house? Share silverware? Use the same tube of toothpaste? Do you get engaged? How long do you stay engaged before getting married? You know, timelines (I can't help it, I'm a reformed project manager).

I know that the trend in European countries is to NOT get married, but to cohabitate and have a family without making it official. I met a number of couples who had been living together for ten or fifteen years, and had children, and who were quite happy unwed. I wonder why they are so comfortable without the ring/paper when we are not? Social pressure? Any ideas?

Why do we as a culture fish and cut bait? Is this purely a female trend? Do men do this as well?

I mean, I'm getting old (er) and am well aware that I am running out of time to be farting around. The timeline I had for myself in my twenties: married at twenty seven, first child at thirty, second child at thirty three....well, we all know how that worked out. I hit the first one all right...so now I have to reevaluate. Do I have a sell by date? I wonder....

Shalom in the Home

The joys of not feeling well.

I'm watching Shalom in the Home today, and I hear a man say in his wife's presence "Yes, I think I married beneath me". And when she started to cry, he did nothing to comfort her at all. He didn't care. He just looked out into space. He then says "all my friends have wives who are more efficient in the wife department". What does that mean? I interpret that to mean that while this particular wife does a great job at keeping the house clean and keeping them fed and clothed, she doesn't spend any time with him. Why can't he just say that, instead of saying "I married beneath me". How hateful!

I had quite forgotten the peculiar pain of having a urinary tract infection until this week.

It's a sensation I could have lived without having forever.

Think of a time when you've sliced a jalepeno and accidentally touched something important. Imagine that sensation lingering for a loooonnnnngggg time. Better yet, when you have that ear infection that snuck up on you, and you have that deep scary pain that jolts you out of your sleep in the middle of the dark night and won't let you rest? Yeah, something like that.

It's not like your bladder is a part of your body that you are normally aware of...like...say, your arm. No, it's not something you think of every day. You just think "hey, I have to pee" and then you take care of it. Having a UTI means suddenly that you think about your bladder every single time you MOVE, and it is most distressing. It throbs, which is bad. And you also run a fever, so all and all it sucks.

Sleeping is fun. Unless you take something to sleep, you lay in bed going "do I really have to pee? do I really or is it just in my head?" until finally you give up and toddle to the bathroom to try and pee. Tylenol PM was invented just for this purpose (I swear!). But sleep is the only time you aren't thinking of your bladder.

Blessedly, I was fortunate not to have dreams of dancing bladders. That would have driven me over the edge.

Ladies of the blogworld, I have a question for you.

When dating, and going through your list of “ratings” for your dates, do you factor in a man’s ability to be a good provider?

My grandmother and I were having this conversation recently. I’m of the opinion that men of my generation were not raised to be providers, but partners (which is why you don’t meet many men in my age bracket who are in that particular role). Grandmom is of the opinion that men of my generation are both lazy and spoiled, and have had everything handed to them by their mothers and later girlfriends and wives, and have not had to work as hard as their fathers and grandfathers to support a family. I’m sure both of us have valid points.

However, someone’s ability to be a provider doesn’t even enter into my top ten. It’s not even in my top twenty. And it seems so old fashioned and….chattel like. Provider.

I told grandmom that I look for a partner, someone who has similar life goals, who has a similar background, education, family life, economic status, and who is really interested in having a real relationship in which both parties are equal. Not one in which the woman does all the traditional womanly things and the man mows the grass and changes the oil, but where the both of you do what needs to be done. Make sense?

What about you men out there? What do you consider when dating women? Would you date or even consider dating a woman who was totally bust ass broke?

Once in a great while, I become convinced that the god of email is playing a large cosmic joke on me. I can go for months and months with no ads for viagra, cialias, penis pumps, breast cream, anal bleaching kits, and all manner and sundry of disgusting porn. Months, I tell you. Then like the floodgates have been quite blown to smithereens, my inbox will be flooded with all manner of revolting, badly spelled, grammatically incorrect and anatomically impossible porn, all describing acts that are illegal in the U.S. and banned in most religious works. So I add filters, anti porn ware software, etc., etc. to no avail. I am doomed, I say, doomed, to be drowned in misspelled smut.

So I've coined a new word...at least, I hope it's new.

SPORN - spam, porn. SPORN.

Vacuum cleaners really are worthless creatures. Really, they are. Think about it. You spend your good, hard earned money on something that kicks up dust and inevitably breaks at exactly the wrong time. Why is that? Why? Also, why does the hose never seem to have any suction? As in, to get it to pick anything up you virtually have to scrub whatever it is you are trying to clean? Why do all the attachments always fall off? When they do fall off, where do they go? Do you suppose everyone’s house has a secret room and attachments and those darn stray socks all escape there and perpetually party? And why are all vacuum cleaners (uprights) so wide? You can’t fit one on a step without it falling down, no matter how you set it. I would really like a Dyson; I have convinced myself that a $400 vacuum cleaner is the way to go. Why…I have no idea. Probably for the same reason that I’m convinced an expensive car or an expensive television is of a better, more reliable quality than a less expensive model. And is it truly so? Or if I spend that $400 on that Dyson, will I still have my annual doorstop, albeit one of a $400 variety versus one of a $60 variety (Vacuum Cleaner Deathmatch: Dyson versus Hoover)? At least then it would be a pretty color.

People? You do know that when you buy that shiny red/blue/platinum colored washer or dryer, you really are paying $400 more JUST FOR THE COLOR.

Just checking.

Nosy Parkers

Some people have nothing better to do with their sad little lives than to poke their noses into other people's business and offer unwarranted, unsolicited and often completely irrelevant advice.

To wit...recently, I was at a local home (repair) store, and overheard the following conversation between two apparent strangers. To give you some context, one lady was a bit younger than myself, very heavily pregnant, and obviously doing some solo plumbing repair. The lady doing most of the speaking was older (and pompous).

Older lady to younger lady (in checkout line) "I see you are doing some plumbing repair. Did your husband send you off to get some parts?"

Younger lady "I'm not married"

Older lady "Oh. Well, where's the baby's father?"

Younger lady (turning red but still being polite) "We're not together"

Older lady "The things you people do in this age".

Now. Seriously.

There is polite conversation, and then there is blatant rudeness. In three sentences, this older lady managed to insult this woman quite thoroughly. First by implying that a woman can't do her own plumbing repair (I can, although not well), second the whole you need a husband to be pregnant thing, thirdly by managing to insult by saying without saying that having a child out of wedlock is wrong. What is wrong with this woman? What does she know about the other woman's circumstance? Maybe her husband left her, and they are now divorced? Maybe she had a boyfriend, or a fiancee, and he died? Maybe she got pregnant, wanted to keep the child (for personal/religious reasons) and her male friend didn't, and left?

The point is, the older woman's snap judgement made no accomodation for any circumstance in this young woman's life. She looked at her pregnant belly, presumably her ring finger and made the worst possible social assessment. What the FUCK gave her the right to do that? Who died and made her god?

I really do believe you should refrain from judging other folk until you have walked a mile in their shoes. Otherwise, shut your mouth.

I had quite a zen moment last night, sitting on the front porch at night listening to the aftermath of the departing storm. The air was amazing - clean, moist, vibrating with the call of the frog, scented with tree....

Really, you should try it sometime.

I can tell I was tired...I re-read last night's post, and I had several misspellings....

Well, the weekend was good. Three dogs and one puppy, and only one accident. Gryffd is SOOOO cute. I don't really like Corgi's, but Gryffd made me reconsider. I only hammered my finger once, but did manage to swear in three languages and quite loudly. I learned how to do quite a number of things; I've never been very confident with a saw, I am now much better. I can hang siding like a pro (hardiplank anyway...we all know I can rip it off like a madwoman). I can certainly swear like a professional contractor. I do have some poison ivy in the back yard (and to think that two years ago I'm pretty sure I ripped it out with gloves and shoved it into a bag) that I need to get rid of. It's coming over the fence from the neighbors yard. I also need to go to another neighbor (the nice lady) and ask her if I can come over and jack up our shared fence, as a section has decided to dangerously lean into my half of the yard. I share my backyard with six families (I have a cul de sac lot)....so I have yet another family to talk to about their two dead fifty foot pine trees that are in danger of whacking my house. Joys! See why I want to move to the country and have a farm house....?

Not that there are many arborists reading my blog...but...I have two small...maybe twenty year old dogwoods in my backyard that are taking the drought bad...they are dropping deadleaf already. Should I: cut off the dead limbs, let the deadleaf drop and leave it alone, leave the entire tree alone until next year? Any ideas?

Well, Dad and I have been busting ass since 8.33 AM this morning working on the columns on the front porch - and they have all been replaced with beautiful new, simple, clean columns. Nothing fruity, nothing ornate...just...simple. We then moved on to the back, cutting out the rotted wood and patching the crap that was bad, and putting up new siding on the addition (not that I added it, mind you, I would never be so stupid as to put a slab addition on a crawl house).

I am dead dog tired.

For his efforts, and because it's Father's Day tomorrow, Dad got a kick ass leather toolbelt for big people. I got the little tiny people version, which is still a bit too bit and falls off it I put my hammer in it, but is still quite righteous for nails, my tape measure, and my handy dandy knife.

People have often commented on the fact that I still wear a ring (or honestly, between one and three) on my ring finger even though I am no longer married.

"Eliza" they say "why on earth would you want to do that? Why would you want people to think you are married?"

I'm then forced to explain that it's not so much that I think I want people to think I'm married, no, that's not it at all.

You see, I've named one particular ring "Eliza's Folly" and I wear it frequently to remind myself not to make stupid, enormous, monumental, life altering mistakes. If it's on my ring finger, every time I look at a poofy white dress and cast about for the nearest clean (ish) single male, looking at the ring reminds me to stop. Everytime I see a cute, quiet, squeaky clean baby, looking at the ring reminds me to stop casting about for a potential donor. Everytime I go to a wedding, or encounter a newly engaged couple, or have to buy a wedding gift, or go to a sappy movie...I mean, you get the idea. It's like those shock collars for barking dogs, only this hurt my wallet and not my neck.

Back to the old grindstone.

So everyone wants to know about the trip.

I’ll never, ever make that drive again. It was hideous, arduous even, filled with construction, law enforcement, uneven pavement, a dead deer, south Georgia rednecks, stupid drivers, me, my passengers, and a jeep full of crap. I am one of those people who under normal circumstances (read: alone) does not stop on a trip except to refuel. These were not normal circumstances, and the trip felt like it took forever.

We did finally make it to my aunt’s house after a never ending drive, only to hop back in the car and go in search of food. My uncle was kind enough to provide us with a dining recommendation AND a map. I was fairly certain I remembered enough of the city from my one and only visit to get us to the place; I just wasn’t counting on the sudden summer downpour ruining what little night vision I had. Yes, I got us totally and completely lost. We drove around for an entire hour, in about the same five mile radius (ironically, we were only about three miles south of where we needed to be, and on the same freaking road as the restaurant…I figured this out two days later). I did finally make it back into town, and went to the only restaurant still open, a place I had been to previously, and enjoyed one of the worst, most tasteless meals of my life, enjoyed in an hour of utter silence. We then backtracked completely and went out for a stroll on the beach, and drove all the way back out to my aunt and uncles and passed out.

Ah, how eventful!

The trip did indeed improve. Spent much time wandering around the old city, which is quite lovely and rather quaint. Am attaching some pictures. Too lazy to write. Attaching pictures of the fort and bay as well, and the beach, and the funniest motel in the world. Missed the shuttle launch. Went fishing twice and caught not a damn thing – the Curse of Eliza and the Pier Continues! Swam, played in the ocean, walked forever, got burnt, did not touch my book at all, didn’t get much sleep, stayed up way too late every night, but overall had a pretty good time.

So below are photos. They tell a better story than I feel like writing.

Drive back however was made in RECORD time. Amazing what a horrid sunburn and a serious lead foot motivates a person to do.

St. Augustine

Ah, blue skies, Barfy Burgers, Girls!!! (now, kids, date yourselves, and tell me what tv show that's from?)

Here I am, in jail...of course I'm kidding. It should be...here I am, in a powder magazine, that dates back to the 1600's, and was smelly and dark and required me to crawl through a two foot high small little tunnel thingie. I was not impressed. People sure were small four hundred years ago.

The last time I was down here, I saw this hotel but didn't have a camera so I was on a quest to find it. I find this to be the absolute pinnacle of ironic sleazy hotel signs - look closely to the left, and you will see a magic hat. BTW, it really is a flop house.

I just like the detail on this cannon. It's purely for show. It's a 50lb shot cannon, which is quite squat, and facing the wrong damn way on the fort, as well as facing a solid wall. Silly, really.

Now that's what I call a cannon. Note that this cannon IS facing the right way.

City street. Nothing witty here. Keep moving.

A little vineyard. The light was much better than you see here. Really.

I want this sign, I really do.

Some of the Beach Pics

Alright, people, just a brief hello.

Back from the trip. Never ever making that drive again. It just reinforced my trip philosophy - longer than five hours, take a freaking airplane. No rain (good), no mosquitos (good), no headache (new drugs work great), grandmom fell but didn't break anything (ok), didn't catch one damn fish (bad), got horridly sunburnt on the last day (bad), didn't sleep worth a crap any single night (bad), need a vacation from my vacation (worse!!!!).

But St. Augustine is absolutely beautiful. And having gotten lost a million times, I now can say with certainty I know my way around every inch of the old city, and the A1A! Have eaten myself into a seafood coma (and I can most certainly tell). Scallops at Columbia....yum!

Pictures forthcoming at some damn point.

Well, as I said I'm off to a much needed vacation tomorrow. I am very excited. I was MUCHO excited earlier but had a little damper thrown on my spirits. Alas, I will recover soon!

Maybe I will go and discover the Fountain of Youth - goodness knows I need it. This recent spate in the sun has left me with a sun spot on my nose. I might be making a vanity trip to the dermatologist soon. Yes, yes, I've packed sunblock and gone back to using facial moisturizer with spf 30.

So...sunny Florida, here I come! I have packed my books, my camera, my bathing suit, some clothes and am ready to head out the door. The dogs are being boarded (the Madster is getting fixed while I'm away to minimize mommy trauma), and the Cousin is watching the house.

On a side note...do you have certain people who only call you to whine? What do you do with those people? I shamefully confess that I let them go to voice mail.

Freedom of Speech

We all have the right to it. We have the right to blather on like idiots, if we so chose, about topics on which we are poorly informed. We have the right to blog, and say silly or perverse or astute or snarky things. The media has a tendency to hide behind it. The government has a tendency to exploit it (hell, all governments d0). It's something we take for granted.

However, the downside of this is that people use this freedom to extend their speech into personal attacks on people. Not only does this negate any argument the person wishes to offer, it's downright rude. The person under attack has three choices: respond in kind, ignore the request, or wittly find some way to defuse the situation.

Just want to make sure that everyone understands that your free speech does have limits imposed on polite society, and that if you say something someone finds offensive or rude, you should be prepared to be corrected.

Out of Pocket

So I'll be out of pocket for a few days. Am very excited about my trip to St. Augustine. Spending time lolling in the sand, working on my skin cancer. Shopping. Being a tourist. Eating too much shrimp. Sleeping in. Doing whatever I want. Hee hee!

More Ren Fest

While all the other shots were snapped in anonymity....and of people I don't know, I DO know the folks here at the pub sing (family friends).

Ren Fest 2007 Shots

With the handy dandy new camera....

Sorry, dear readers, am very much worn out from a weekend of family drama, and our annual DorkTrek to the Ren Fest.

I do have some photos from the Ren Fest. If I'm ever "not lazy" enough to get them off the camera and clean them up, I'll post.