MONDAY ON A TUESDAY
As I was driving into work this morning,or,as I prefer to call it my morning game of dodge car,my phone rang.Well,"rang" doesn't really describe it,it makes noises like crickets even though it's called cicada...if it really sounded like cicadas it would be awesome,but as it is it is less than annoying than the other ringtone choices for this particular phone...but more about that later.
It was our (currently ill) general manager informing me in that froggy sick voice that he would be in, but later in the morning around 10. He sounded like shit,but ok man,see you at 10.
At 9:30 he called to say that his left ear had "shut down" and he wouldn't be coming after all...no biggie,it was cold and dreary to austin standards,and it would be slow.
Wrong...horribly general george custer wrong.It was a fucking madhouse all-day-long.
The office phone and my mobile rang constantly... many of my coworkers are either afraid of the phone,are above the phone or have a particular form of autism that filters out the phone.So the bulk of the calls fall on myself and two other brave souls who aren't afraid to deal with customers.
People were in and out of the store in an endless stream...customers,sales reps,office reps...our technicians and support staff, and they all wanted to talk to me.My coffee got cold,my breakfast taco got cold,every time I tried to steal away for a quick smoke,the phone would ring or somebody else would pull up in the parking lot. Here's a sample event:
ME: Can I help you? (phone ringing off the wall)
CUSTOMER: We need light feekstures.(still ringing)
ME: Bulbs or complete fixtures?(STILL ringing,multiple lines ringing in)
CUSTOMER : feekstures.(PA announcing I have a call on line one, two technicians approach the counter,stand next to the customer and stare at me like my dogs do when they want a treat)
ME: What kind of fixtures are they?(PA annoucing I have a call on line two,line one is still holding,the technicians are shifting impatiently on their feet and my cell phone starts chirping at me)
CUSTOMER: Silence ( adopting the deer in the headlights stare)-(phone is still ringing, I take line one and my cell is now announcing a voicemail AND starts chirping at me again...one technician realizes he is not the center of the universe and retreats,the other is holding fast and probably calculating the time left before I start shooting)
ME:(step out from behind the counter to play fixture show and tell with my now mute confused looking customer,figure out what they need.remaining tech is following me around the showroom ,I ignore him) How long of a cord do you need?
CUSTOMER: -unintelligible-feet.
ME: How many feet? (repeat three or four times until I write down the possibilities on a piece of paper and make him point...think to myself "learn english!" immediately followed by "time to bust out the spanish CD's again" vague feelings of guilt wash over me...Phone is STILL ringing)
AAAAUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!MULTI-TASKING SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As I mentioned in a past post,we have switched over to a new accounting system (it still sucks).It is now in "full" operation...we have officially stopped using our old,less sucky system in tandem with it,it is stand alone (albiet with braces and a walker).
I have a week or so lead on the learning curve for it so interject into the above numerous intercom requests to come sort something out for some of my coworkers and the frequent "god damnit! you piece of shit" and other like comments emanating through the walls.People hurling abuse at their computers and looking to be on the verge of a psychotic episode.
Invoicing and purchase orders are a particular challenge, for example:
with the old system you would enter part number xyz into the screen and part number xyz would appear as a line item. With the new system xyz gets you a "that is not an inventory item,would you like to add it to inventory?".NO!!!I don't want to add it to the inventory...because it's ALREADY THERE! you retarded cousin of the system I've grown to love. If you put in xyz00000000000000000000000000 it comes up.
abc5 and abc50 are two different items,factor in the zeros and they are the same...really,observe:
abc5000000000000000000 and abc5000000000000000000. we have achieved symbiosis,and the system has a knack for defaulting to the opposite item you want to enter.
Isn't that cute? NO! It's not.And while I have had a week or so to adjust,my coworkers are just discovering the new found joy of trading your computer in for an abacus and you can imagine the resulting angst and tumult.
On a quieter day,the angst and rumination would have been amusing...not today.
We will be over this in a few weeks,but right now we are somewhere around the 6th level of hell.

THE WONDERS OF TECHNOLOGY
I've been trying to call Ann off and on today and the phone just rings and rings.I called SBC and they have identified a "problem" on the line....I can tell you what the problem is:old antiquated switchboxes and connections all over our neighborhood.
You'd figure email would be a viable option...but no,our email at work has been overrun by spammers and we are now on at least 7 blacklists...so any email I send from here gets auto ditched.
So,with that said...Ann, I'll stop at the store on the way home and,well,I guess I'll punt:).....

ART
I have always been a wanna be artist , since I can remember. I have always drawn,written songs or done some other related artsy thing all my life.
Probably the most prolific thing I did (besides getting tattoos) was cartooning.
I started the cartooning thing in junior high school and continued with it off and on till the late 80's early '90's...sadly,I don't have much of what I produced in school...but somewhere around 1983 I created a character named Brillo and his friends...I didn't start out to make an autobiographical cartoon,but that's what it became...I was Brill' and his friends were my friends, and the adventures mirrored what were the cultural times of the day: punk rock (the austin version anyway) , drug use, relationships...oh the hell with it:sex,drugs and rock and roll.
I have a notebook somewhere with the bulk of these cartoons in it...if I can find it,I thought I'd scan them and post them here every once and a while...hey,why not?

IT'S RENOVATION TIME
Tonight we spent talking about what were gonna do to the house over dinner and drinks at,yes...fucking Maudies...our home away from.
It's very exciting to look ahead and think of how cool the possibilities are...the bathroom,the kitchen...fencing in the front yard...opening up the whole house with a systematic demolition of walls and other obstructions.Developing a plan that goes beyond how to pay the next light bill.
I'm starting to get fired up...this kind of change is good.

Fun and Games
Damn, Blogger and/or Blogspot ate my post and I don't have time to retype it because I've got to attempt to turn into the Mr. Clean "white tornado" this morning. On my best days, I do good to imitate a "white dustdevil". Usually, it's nothing more than a barely discernable movement in the sand. Fortuantly there's this bright round ball in the sky (I think it's called the sun) which means the laundry that I put on the clothesline this morning might actually be dry by nightfall. And words cannot describe the joy I feel upon knowing that I need to scrub the toliet bowl today to prevent it from spawning some alien life form later this week while I'm at work. No, a post about how much fun I had at my new job this weekend will have to wait, but I will say that I had a great time and this post title is a better description of my weekend than the using the word "work".

YOUR WET HEART (AN ODE TO 1987)
I was recently divorced and on the tail end of a 4 year speed binge that played a major role in the reason I was divorced and why I was with the woman I was with...a woman I would be with for the next 8 years and (fortunately) live to regret each and every one of them.
"It's not your fault
it's no fault at all
she only wants you to join in her fall"
Speed is an interesting drug...I'm not talking about the white crosses I took when I was a 15 year old,I'm talking about crank...methamphetimine or the biker bathtub version you snort or inject.I was a nose guy,the gimme another bump dude kind of speed freak.
What started as a weekend diversion led to a daily chasing of the buzz. All of us were doing it,all the time.I remember being in a training school and I went to the bathroom to do a line off the sink,I looked in the mirror and saw a ring of dried blood around my left nostril. I didn't wonder how long it had been there or how many of my co-workers had seen it...I washed it off and snorted through my right nostril-back to class...lunch?no thanks,just a coke and a smoke please.
I could go on about what a substance abusing fool I was but you get the point (I hope).
This is really about the music of '87 and how it played into the chaos that was my life.
Speed was all about being intense...do a line,smoke a joint,drink some beer and have intense "meaningful" conversations while the music of the day rolled around the turntable in that glorious analog hiss.
"And the voice says to me....
You are alone,you are not free"
A favorite in '87 was thin white rope...dark loopy music made by guys who were either doing the same drugs we were or knew how to feed into the buzz...the record was called "moonhead" (which I found on CD yesterday as Ann wrote...she's knows it's a favorite,but doesn't know the details).
"Stiff-walking like a seeing eye
Your hand too dry to hold
What disappointed you
To make you act so old"?
As I said,I was divorced...which meant I was not with my son,I was with a woman who,had I been honest with myself,was a diversion.On some level I always knew this but never acknowledged it,after all we were in"love".What we had, really, was a drug addled fantasy with lots of good sex(initially).It was a diversion that lasted 8 years until I figured out what I really wanted.
I was angry...I was strung out (though I never admitted it) and I was alone.Surrounded by people, but alone. I was surrounded by other people altered by speed engaging in hours of ultimately meaningless conversation,bearing the secrets of our souls to each other around a coffee table with a mirror and a straw and a razor and vials destined to be filled with water and drunk when there was no more to be railed out.
And the music played over it all...dark,angry music...a music that propelled us along,fed our need to understand why we were so angry,so sad...so lost.
"She doesn't like to compare scars
I shrug and say "it's your wet heart"
She wants to be a mystery
I'm sorry theres no way to be
I guess I'll go on wondering
If she was hiding anything"
Those days are long past for me now,but I remember them,clearly-like it was yesterday.
You wouldn't think a trip to the record store could be anything but......but.

Countries I've visited; US states I've visited
This seems to be making the rounds, but I'm not going to bother posting a map since it would be mostly green. Look folks, I was born in Texas. Specifically, in Austin, TX which is pretty damn close to the middle of the state. I've always lived in Austin and to make things even weirder, I've always lived within a few miles of my childhood home. Now it takes a while to get from Austin to the border of Texas in any particular direction and if you are as adverse to flying as I am, you're limited by the amount of drive time it takes to get from point A to point B. And point B usually ends up residing still in the state of Texas when the only vacation time you get is a long weekend once and a while. I've been to Mexico. I've ventured into Oklahoma, Colorado, New Mexico and Louisiana. I once drove (rather than fly) to a conference in Washington, DC but all those states on the way were just a blur of scenery in my windshield while I hauled ass so I could spend three days locked up in a hotel conference room. Hardly qualifies as visiting, though I did skip out on a conference session so I could cruise the Smithsonian for a few hours. I learned my lesson on that trip and subsequently bit the bullet and took a plane to Las Vegas and Canada for other work-related conferences. But to catch a plane to just visit someplace for fun? Not likely to happen. Now I did say that if I won the lottery tonight that I would fly over to Ingerland and buy billy a drink at his favorite pub. But that's only because if I won the lottery, I could afford to fly first class so I wouldn't have to deal with someone's elbows poking into my ribs or the person in front of me reclining into my face, plus I could afford to drink enough booze that I wouldn't care that I was on a plane for gord knows how many hours. Rob, however, would not be joining me. There's no way in hell you'd get him to set foot on a plane to England, no matter how many "rocks, no salt" you poured down his throat. One of these days we would like to go to England and see where his mom's from and maybe give some of the long lost relatives a good scare, but we haven't figured out how we'd get there. I won't set foot on a cruise liner. Oceanic cruises scare me far more than planes do (I blame The Poseidon Adventure.) Rob won't set foot on a plane. And as of yet, there's no way to drive to England from here. Damn.

The return of a family tradition.
Starting the very first week after Rob and I hooked up and became a couple, we have had a tradition of having dinner (or lunch or brunch) at our favorite restaurant and then heading over to Waterloo to buy music CDs, usually around payday or sometimes, just cuz. I had always made a nice salary and music is a very important part of our life so instead of vacations in the Cayman Islands, we spent that kind of money on CDs. After I lost my job, we didn't feel like we had the money to spare and quite frankly, our CD collection was large enough that we had no lack of music to spin in the CD player over this last year. But there's so much more music out there and so today, after I got home from my new job, we headed over to Waterloo to celebrate. Just like always, Rob headed for the new CD section and I high-tailed it over to the used bin. I just can't bring myself to buy a CD new unless it's something I really want and I've already searched the used bin for years with no luck. This new purchase is usually reserved for old stuff that I once had on vinyl and left in the possession of the ex-husband (who ended up with everything but some of my clothes, a few books and some trinkets from my childhood, but that's a story for another day.) I like to shop the used bin because, in my mind, it means I can take a chance on unfamiliar music. Maybe I've heard of this band, or maybe I have some of their stuff, but don't know if this particular release is crap or not. Or maybe I've never heard of them at all, but the cover artwork is intriguing. For $6 or less, I'll give it a try. Or if it's something I know that I want or has at least one song that I really like than I might spend as much as $9 on it. As far as I'm concerned, the used bin is a lot more fun than the new racks. Rob, on the other hand, is much better at knowing exactly what he wants and doesn't mind paying the full price for it. In all the years that we've done this, he's only returned a CD once. I've ended up with some weird stuff, but nothing I've ever wanted to return. Here's what we scored tonight:

Rob bought:
Thin White Rope - Moonhead (he has this on vinyl)
Johnny Cash - American IV: The Man Comes Around

Ann bought:
Montrose - Paper Money (my ex has my vinyl copy)
Cracker - Forever (never heard it, but I have other Cracker CDs)
Megadeth - Risk (also never heard it, but I have lots of Megadeth from the old days)

We're working our way through them in that order with Montrose now playing so I have no idea yet how I did with the Cracker or Megadeth. But heck, at only $6 each, it would have to be pretty awful for me to take it back.

UPDATE: About half the songs on the Cracker CD I've heard before and liked. Yes, there's a list of the song titles on the back of the CD, but I couldn't read the tiny print because I'm old and need glasses.

UPDATE TWO: The Megadeth is a mixed bag. A couple of kick ass songs, but some also some stuff that sounded more like Bon Jovi and one song that reminded Rob and I of Brownsville Station (should you need to ask, neither of those comparisons are meant as a compliment.) Rob's currently washing off the distasteful Megadeth with a bit of Psychedelic Furs and while I probably would have grabbed some old Slayer instead, his choice is doing the job just fine.

Well they call me the workin' man, I guess that's what I am
It's been a long time since I had to get up by the alarm and get ready for work, so long that I don't even hear the alarm any more so Rob had to shake me awake this morning. The coffee routine continued after I was unemployed so that was a cinch, but morning shower, finding something to wear... I got up REAL early just in case there was an unexpected hitch. And there was because it was fekking COLD in the house this morning. Not Canadian cold, but cold enough to make me wish I could just go back under the covers because I forgot to turn the heater on in the front room last night, oops. So I bundled up, cranked the heater up in the bathroom and started pounding down coffee while the place warmed up. I considered skipping the shower since I had one last night, but I'm cursed with naturally curly hair. Yes, that's CURSED. Those of you wishing for naturally curly hair, please don't wish for that when you find a genie in a bottle, wish for a more permanent perm instead. You see, when I wake up in the morning, my naturally curly hair is a matted mess of frizz, sticking out in a variety of directions. After I drag a comb through it, it's a somewhat straightened mess of frizz that now sticks out in ALL directions. The only cure for this is to get it wet, slather on some conditioner and let it drip dry. And don't point that hair dryer at me, even with a fancy diffuser attachment, unless you want me to look like the Bride of Frankenstein. This drip dry process can take as long as three hours on a humid day and has resulted more than once in a write up at work for showing up with wet hair. Yes folks, some bosses are THAT persnickety. I'd have done better to call in sick than to walk in with wet hair, it was such a heinous crime. But enough nervous chattering here, it's time to take off (with mostly dry hair) to start me first day on the job....

Eeewww...rats!
I'll be glad when this page goes to archives and I don't have to look at that rat photo anymore. Rob's post was probably inspired by the fact that I noticed last night we had acquired another unwelcome house guest. It seems every time the temperature drops below 40 degrees at night, some rat finds a new spot that we haven't found yet where they can chew a hole in the house and move in.

I'm not the kind of person who jumps on a chair and makes weird noises when I see a rat. I'm more likely to try and throw something at it or reach for the pellet gun, but I never manage to hit my target so, for me, traps are the best way to go. Rats, by the way, do not like cheese. It's mice that like cheese and oh how I wish I was dealing with mice instead since they are much easier to trap. Rats, at least the rats around here, are too smart to fall prey to the snap traps. I had, at one time, a wonderful trap that electrocuted them. Unfortunately it stopped working after.. well, never mind the details, but it was my fault. If you looked at the price on that thing, you'll see why we haven't bought another one. Between the miserable failure of snap traps and my lack of sharpshooting skills, I had to resort to glue traps even though I think these are excessively cruel. However, I don't use them the way most people do. I only set them out when I'm at home and can shoot the rat as soon as it gets stuck (trust me, you'll hear it when a rat gets stuck on one of these.) I still prefer that Rat Zapper though and now that we have the home improvement money I can buy another one to use while we are fixing all the spots that let them get in the house in the first place.

HERE'S MY FRIENDS TEST....
Please take it...please?????
guess me!testing testing 1-2-3

AM I ON A ROLL OR WHAT? WHAT?
We have a rat problem...rats,in the house...getting into our shit and generally making a mess of things.I don't like them,they chewed off Mauricios back legs and chewed out his eyes. It was horrible,I loved him...he was so beautiful...I felt responsible,he was fine in the back yard in his pen,I brought him in for the winter and the fucking rats got him. It was time for some payback.
I have some pellet guns....one is a rifle that has the muzzle velocity of a .22 rifle,one is a Co2 powered pistol that has 1/2 the muzzle velocity of a 22.
Some people put out traps (I did this),some people put out glue traps (I did this as well) some people put out poison(I did'nt do this because I hate the smell of dead things rotting inside my walls and I have dogs).
I changed the bulbs in the lights in that part of the house to red (rats can't see in red)
and loaded up my guns...I was gonna get the rat thet killed my baby.
And I did,he was huge...when I said rats I meant rats...these are wood rats...big fuckers that come up from the field behind our house looking for a hand out.
One of my buds from work who was in the army gave me one of his sniper patches for the number of rats I dispatched with my beeman rifle. I was on a roll
I would sit in the darkness behind the glow of the red bulbs and wait...like Jude Law in enemy at the gates, and when the enemy would show itself...BLAM! This is the bitch that killed my Mauricio...I baited his pen and got his ass!
I racked up at least 10 confirmed kills that winter...Irene got 3 or 4...she was awesome at hunting down and killing rats . The only problem was she would leave "half rats" on the bed or some other place when she was done with them...sometimes she would swallow them whole,especially when I would try to get them from her...ugh....but she was my back up,another reason she's my girl...hates rats,right on!
I hate fucking rats....
I hate fucking rats and they have figured it out apparently...we went from many to one or two on occaision

IS THAT A HORSE'S HEAD IN MY BED,OR ARE YOU JUST HAPPY TO SEE ME?
I was in a foul almost all day today.I just didn't feel right,or happy,or anything remotely positive. A couple of people even asked me if I was alright at work today...this never happens (because I'm usually not shy about sharing the nature of the bug in my ass).
I just couldn't figure this particular bug out.
For all intents and purposes I should be walking around with a shit eating grin on my face and hugging everyone who comes into the shop,employee or not.It was a mood so foul I could feel it in my forehead,my scowl was obstructing my sight.
Was it the rocks no salt? No...I've suffered the aftermath of these many times,that wasn't it.
Was it the chipotle shrimp stuffed avacado I had for dinner? I'm sure the burn was contributing...but that wasn't it either. I knew when I was eating it,I would pay for it the next day,but damn it was tasty!
But then I had a...oh, whats it called?Oh yeah,a moment of clarity.
I don't have anything to be worried about.
I can't remember a day in the last couple of years when I wasn't worrying about something....Losing the house,losing the car,the IRS swooping down to break it off in us, will my son turn into the biggest loser of all time?Where will we find a box to live in big enough to hold us,three dogs and thirty turtles?
Suddenly,there was nothing to worry about,that black cloud that had been following me around forever was now a less threatening grey with some honest to god sunshine peeking through.
I'm so used to being in survival mode I guess I'm in shock.
Once the house reno gets rolling I'm sure I'll get over it...
Creatures of habit indeed......

THE FRIDAY FIVE:


You have just won one million dollars:

1. Who do you call first?

Ann,unless she was with me when I won...then it would be nobody

2. What is the first thing you buy for yourself?

Rocks,no salt...lot's of them :)


3. What is the first thing you buy for someone else?

a) A ranch in New Mexico for Ann
b) A completely restored and tricked out '55 Chevy Belair 2 door for my son

4. Do you give any away? If yes, to whom?

Yes...to a variety of turtle rescue/conservation organizations.

5. Do you invest any? If so, how?

Yes...real estate in south austin.

And the winner is...
I'll be damned. For once I won something - the "no prize" for being the 20,000 visitor at billy's blog. I'd normally drink an extra amount of Shiner Bock tonight to celebrate, but I start my new job tomorrow so I'll have to save that for some other time. I won't usually work on weekends, but the rest of the staff do and I just realized that I forgot to mention in my list of cool things about the job that I will have a four day work week. Yep, while the rest of the working world is dragging themselves to work with a hangover on Mondays, I'll be sleeping in because the place is closed. It's also closed on Tuesday, but that is the office "quiet day" so I'll be there, but no one else will. A job with an ENTIRE "quiet day"? I think I must have died and gone to heaven.

One foot on the road to remodeling hell...
Come Tuesday, the money will be available. This house, after 40 years, shows the expected wear and tear that cheap construction and fixtures are bound to have. We didn't borrow enough to do everything we'd like to do so we are going to have to stay really focused and not wander off track. However much we might want that surround sound system, it's not part of the improvements we need so we can't buy it, no matter what the sale price might be.

Kitchen and bath are the first priority, but this is a small house with only one tiny bathroom so those home improvement shows that have folks living in one part of the house while the rest is under construction is not an accurate depiction of what will happen here. No, come destruction and construction time we will be living in our backyard in a tent, cooking on the grill, showering with the "sun shower" from our camping gear and using one of those portable toilets you see at construction sites or outdoor concerts. Needless to say, we will NOT being doing any of this next month when temps are as likely to be in the 30s as they are in the 70s. And Austin rarely has a spring season, so it's going to be a very tricky timing act. Start too early and we will freeze our asses off. Start too late and we'll be hot as hell. More than likely, if we schedule this for the "spring" then we'll be alternating between both as well as dealing with a lot of rain. Fortunately, Rob and I are old hands at camping and it's not going to be the ordeal for us that it might be for many other people. We have the advantage of a very large covered deck in our backyard which can be used for cooking, eating and hanging out in the evenings. In the event that we get one of those "horizontal" rain storms, we can put up tarps and still stay dry. Or retreat to the tent. Our tent is big enough to provide sleeping space for two adults and three dogs, a clothesrack, a TV, a computer and a small table. It's a BIG tent. As for cooking, in addition to years of extensive camping experience, we have also been without a working stove for a while and trust me, we can cook everything you might want to ever cook on our grill using charcoal or wood. In fact, the grill makes much better home-made pizza than the gas oven ever did.

But enough about the future. Let me tell you what's on the agenda for February which I'm sure is going to be a far bigger ordeal than the remodeling experience. We need to go through all our years of accumulated "stuff" and get rid of well over half of it. We have way too much "stuff". And I'm not talking furniture here. I have six computers, three of which are just gathering dust, an amazing number of broken keyboards, trackballs and mice, tons of software that I'll never use again complete with the original packaging/boxes (why am I hanging onto that first version of Microsoft Word which is a DOS version?) I have an old SCSI scanner that I never use, three old printers (also unused) and that's just the tip of the iceberg. We've got amps, drums, extra PA equipment, and guitars out the whazoo. The guitars aren't going anywhere, but I think we can shed some of this other stuff. Do we really need that commercial cassette dubbing thingie? We don't do cassettes anymore, it's all CDs these days. And then there's the paper trail. Boxes and boxes of bills and receipts and check copies and what-have-you. Yeah, keep it for seven years, but it's high time to go through it all and shred or burn what's older than that. I didn't have the sense to date mark any of the boxes and there's always those few things you need to keep past seven years (like a marriage license) which means sifting through all of it. Ugh. I get the feeling that February isn't near enough time to tackle all of this. I'm tempted to just rent a storage unit and ship all this crap over there and deal with it later... better yet, just leave it all there and add to it year after year until I'm dead and buried! Let the kid deal with it then, heheheheh....

I HAD DINNER WITH PARIS HILTON...WELL,SORT OF.
Ann and I were at maudies celebrating the loan closing when these two twenty-somethings came in. One of them was in full on Paris mode,Fake tits,hip huggers,blouse to advertise fake tits,sex in the city haircut,the whole 9...but her face,specifically her nose.Let me just say that she had the kind of nose that could avoid breathing problems no matter what was hilt deep in her mouth.
I don't know what annoys me about women like this,well,actually,I do,and I could go on and on...the pretentious clothes,the cell phone glued to the ear that is dangerously close to that gorgon like nose,the "I am so better than you" posturing....
A few minutes after she arrived, a couple came in and took the table next to them...the girl being a natural beauty with a cute little nose.
Suddenly I was transported to the animal planet show about lions stalking wildebeasts during migration...This Paris wanna-be was glaring at this other girl with such malevolent affect,I could feel it.
Suddenly the fake tits and shapely hips were no match after the nose factor was calculated into the mix.
It was an amazing thing to observe,even the hair on my knape bristled a little bit.
Gorgon girl and her friend had pulled three tables together upon arrival,a clear sign for us to clear out...we paid our check and left.When we emerged into the parking lot there were several other Paris clones gathering by the door...I swear I could smell PVC.Ugh.....

Some reasons why my new job is cool
Okay, I haven't actually started work yet, but none of this should change after I "get in the trenches"...
In no particular order...

* Small business with great growth potential; I love a place that I can help to grow.
* Owner has a good reputation; I know people who know him.
* Casual dress; I'm a jeans and t-shirts kind of gal.
* Flexible work hours; a real advantage when your house has only one very tiny bathroom.
* Reasonable commute; driving anywhere in this town sucks!
* Challenging work that is meaningful work; I don't like boring or pointless jobs.
* Pay is what I wanted to make; not too little, not too much - yes, there is actually such as thing as "too much".
* IT skills useful, but not the main focus of the job; quite frankly, IT work was starting to bore me.
* Located next to a little boutique bakery; I love fresh baked bread that doesn't come from a factory.
* There will be dogs! I'm going to be the office manager at a behavioral training center for dogs! Woo-hoo!

Celebration Station... if you look closely...
I have a reputation for being quite staid. In fact, my ex-husband lamented constantly about my lack of rambunctious emotional display and figured that meant that I didn't REALLY get excited or angry or upset or about anything. Despite outward appearances, my emotions soar to great heights as well as great lows at times just like most other humans and I had the great fortune the second time around to marry a man who can read me better. Hell, sometimes Rob can read me better than I can read myself and he's a great person for me to go to and say, "I'm feeling weird, and I can't figure it out so what do you think might be going on?" and get an insightful answer. Anyway, as Rob said earlier, "the worm has turned" (what is that from? Oh... Rob says the movie "Platoon") and I'm figuratively, but not literally, dancing on the rooftops right now. I may not be outwardly tapping my heels on the shingles, but Rob knows how I feel and that is a cool thing, a very cool thing indeed. More about the new job later, I'm still on my cloud...

THE DIAGNOSTIC STATISICAL MANUAL AND ALL IT'S VERSIONS THERE OF
Anyone who has worked in the field of psychology and all of it's permutations has heard of,seen,perused on the toilet or otherwise referred to this bible of "managed care approved disorders" to diagnose patients,real or imagined.
They are on, I believe, version IV-R.
When I sought out therapy after my mom died,my diagnoses was (primary) Adjustment disorder,non-specified (my mom died and I was fucked up about it) and rule out PTSD (I worked in an environment full of violence and unpredictability...go figure).
...and the list goes on...Conduct disorder,affect disorder,schizotypal disorders: specified,unspecified,paranoid,delusional,paranoid/delusional, major depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder (for girls AND boys),MPD...it gets oh so confusing!
From my experience,it was all based on what the insurance companies would pay for,and peoples problems were manipulated in the record to reflect the diagnoses d'jour.
If I was writing a DSM manual,it would be simple,cut and dry...broken down into four sections:
1. Mildly fucked up (out patient therapy...)
2. Moderately fucked up (out patient therapy and some meds)
3. Majorly fucked up (in patient,out patient,lots of meds)
4. Fucked beyond belief (in patient,out patient yo-yo,massive meds,chains and a basement, commonly referred to as transitional care or halfway house,prison and/or death)
Don't get me wrong...I have the utmost empathy for the "less fortunate" disturbed people in our society,it's just that they have been snuggled into a cottage industry designed to make money for the people charged with their care,manipulated and enabled to remain sick. Therapy sold to them like fresh water to flood victims...meds shoved down their throats like they are the Freudian equivalent to crackheads.
Mental illness is really simple: you ain't right, you have to get right,and were gonna help you get right...this simple approach used to work,until some assholes figured out they could make money off other people's sorrows, and did.
And when it got so ridiculous people said enough,they came up with managed care,which is the same thing they were doing before,only with more regulation put in place to fool us, and it worked.

THE TIMES THEY ARE A CHANGIN'
Wow!Annabelle got the job! We close on our loan tomorrow!! The county retro-ed our homestead exemption to 2002 and we got a refund on our property tax!!!
The worm has definitely turned.
I'm so happy for Ann...she got what she wanted...'bout time, too.
All this bullshit we've endured for the last year or so has come to fruition.
I'm Housin'....

I got the job!
I'm probably too excited to make much sense right now so I'll keep this short. That "low pay" they kept talking about turned out to be the exact amount I wanted to make. I don't just have "a job", I have a job that meets every single item on my job wish list and then some. AWESOME! More later after I come down off my cloud.

WAY BACK IN THE YEAR 2000...
I started messing around with flash animation.I learned pretty quickly,with the software available at the time combined with my massive intake of vodka and grapefruit juice, my efforts were going to be automatically,uhhh,stunted.
I would create these aberrations and submit them to newgrounds,a website that posts peoples flash,and I would get flamed...big time.They didn't get that I was going for STUPID...that was the slant of my humor.
I was catching up with an old friend over lunch today and was sharing my foray into flash,which prompted me to go visit newgrounds...much to my surprise,my contributions are STILL there,and, much to my amusement,people are still flaming me.
Here's an example from nov. '03...I emphasize...2003!

wtf? do you have downsyndrome or something?
i sincerely hope you are as stupid as your "animations" make you seem. why you ask?
because it would make it very easy for you to go out and get yourself killed, thus making everyones lives a lot more pleasant. and what the story line, a shogun drives a school bus into the west wing of the white house, now he's in jail getting fucked up the ass...
i bet you envy him you cum guzzling peice of shit
go fuck yourself with a rusty blade
This is the little gem he's referring to: 1375 views....
A shogun named Billy
Apparently,John-420 doesn't share my sense of humor :)

Now,you know I have turtles...but did you know I am also a pioneer in bestiality films?
It appears that I am...here's a comment from 12-2003...over 3 years later...

Was this your first submission. I see no inspiration. Just you trying to make a turtle porno. What are you doing??? Trying to introduce a new genre of porno????? DUDE YOU SUCK!!!!!

This is the flash he's referring to: 1810 views....

Turtle Love

I was encouraged by these comments and continued to produce flash...I was inspired by the 60's show leave it to beaver and wondered what it would be like if the cleavers were substance abusers....Like I said...MASSIVE amounts of vodka.

Some comments:

blam this piece of shit January 17, 2004
Reviewed by: jaguarstrike Overall Score: 0
VOTE ZERO UNTIL ITS BLAMMED! HOW THE FUCK DID THIS SURVIVE THE PORTAL????
Graphics: 0 Sound: 0 Interactivity: 0 Style: 0 Violence: 0 Humor: 0

Apparently jaguarstrike has never been bowling :)

Here's the clip: 46,656 views...hmmm...?
Drug Culture Beaver

I continued on this theme:

fuck you November 26, 2003
Reviewed by: james_420 Overall rating: 0
why the fuck would you make a second one you stupid cunt?!?! and... why would you try and drag zepplin down with you?THESE ARE FUCKING STUPID!! you need to be shot and pissed on asswipe
James just doesn't get it does he?
This clip had 1499 views:

Culture pt.2

And finally: At 34,197 views:

You Suck January 25, 2004
Reviewed by: Pyrobot666 Overall rating: 0
I mean thats all I have to say to you, Dumbass

P>S> Eat Shit and Die


The clip:
Trippin' Beaver

Now...what could possibly be my point?
All of these were done in Oct. 2000. You'll note that this last comment is from THREE DAYS AGO!I am humbled that my feeble contributions have lasted this long and provided an outlet for the wankers at newgrounds,to which I say: thanks ASSHATS!!!!

JOHN LYDON MUST DIE
Just kidding...I read Billy's post about our punk icons selling out. McClaren was always a peckerwood to me...but Johnny Rotten?Never the sell out.
If you were hardcore about the punk thing,he was a sellout from the get go. After the pistols anyway...The Pistols blew up in Austin around '77...The first single I bought was Pretty vacant b/w No Fun,The cover had a pair of buses going to boredom and nowhere...stops that haunt me to this day.
PIL's record "Generic" was a constant on my turntable..."rise" being a favorite.But he "sold out".I was a big Clash fan, but they too,"sold out"...Black Flag,Social Distortion and more bands than I can remember "sold out"...Henry Rollins is the biggest sellout of all...but I still love him.
The bands I listened to that didn't "sell out"...The Jam(who broke up before the sell out but weller resurfaced before the scab was dry and did just that),Subhumans,FOPI,CRASS,Amebix,faded away from memory because they didn't "sell out".There are more than I can reference...but the point is this...
I believe if you have a message that catches on...no,wait...If you strike a chord with the masses initially and get a major contract...no, wait...If you don't jump on it (read:sell out) You are destined to the discount/cut-out bin and stories of what could of been and a body of work,that if your'e lucky will bob up every 10 years or so,like dennis leary's "asshole"...an overlooked novelty,whether you were serious or not.
And given the opportunity to sell out,you will...and they did...except for Amebix...yet.
Punk rock is a distant memory,obscured by the blink182-offspring-good charlotte abortions that it spawned,remembered by people like me....40 something's with a chip on their shoulders who dust off the vinyl and rue the day they "sold out"...................

IF IT'S BROKE, WHY BOTHER FIXING IT?
It amazes me how we survive as a species without our various infrastructures imploding on us at any given moment,rendering us neanderthal (that's tall with a silent "h" by the way) grunting away in our dismay that the bison is once again...raw.
We are constantly inundated with messages trumpeting our "great technology" and the reality of it is,when it works,it's nothing short of a miracle from god.
Take my recent foray into high finance,for example.Everytime I turn around,there's been another "mistake" made,which amounts to:they don't know what the fuck it is they are supposed to be doing.
I had to research and provide the "requested documents"...because they couldn't seem to get it right. My success at this was greeted with a kind of backhanded resentment that can only be compared to solving the equation in math class the instructor couldn't solve,and for the effort,said instructor hits you in the head with a chalk laden eraser. Ouch.
Nothing works like it's supposed to in this country...look around yourself and it becomes painfully clear...Insurance cards don't run properly,when you try to activate a bank card (after the bank cancelled your old one a day before they called to tell you it was) you get a "processing error" and are directed to the issuing bank,then the system hangs up on you with a "thank you" that is more along the lines of "fuck you...bwahahahahahahahaha!!!!".They spout 24/7 service and you get snubbed by a fucking recording and have to suck on it until the issuing bank opens at 10am the next day,completely ignoring your immediate need for a rocks with no salt.And when you do call the next morning you're thrown into an automated labyrinth that leaves you,at best homicidal and at worst curled up in a fetal position crying like a bitch.
God bless america!
When they finally do straighten it out,they act like they've done you a favor...this is gall beyond fucking GALL...they want YOU to be thankful for a problem THEY fucking caused.
Not right,I tell you,it's not right.
So,meanwhile,back at the cave, you try to describe your day and it disintegrates into so many grunts and clicks with a smattering of spastic facial ticks and hand gestures...and you know you have arrived...
That is until you turn on the news...
And the gravity of it all drives you to a rooftop with a pile of rocks and some sharp pointy sticks.
Nagwaa too-mock indeed.

Whoa... *evil*???

You're a hydra. You have many different outlooks on
life, and know how to utilize each one to make
the best of any situation. Others may mistake
this for hypocrisy or even insanity, but you
know yourself better than that. Indecision is
your greatest flaw. Your alignment tends
slightly towards *evil*.


What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

HOW ABOUT THAT SHIT?

You're a gryphon. You're very powerful without
needing to brag about it. Creativity is one of
your strong suits. Your outward personality may
change drastically according to your mood,
which is not always a good thing. You're a
loyal guardian when you choose to be and you're
aligned towards *good*.


What mythical beast are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Wow...a gryphon...who'd a thunk it?

Sunday Brunch Meme

WILD AND CRAZY STUFF

1. When you were a teenager, did you sneak out of the house?
Nope, didn't have to. My curfew after age 15 was the crack of dawn.

2. Have you ever gone skinny-dipping?
Hell yeah. I was a teenager in Austin in the 70s. Hippy Hollow, Campbell's Hole. 'Nuff said.

3. Have you ever dyed your hair a wild and crazy color?
Nope, but I would if Lime Green would look decent on me (which it wouldn't.)

4. Did you ever get so drunk you couldn't remember much of the night?
Yep, but I aways made it home before the sun came up.

5. Tell us about something wild and crazy you did as a teenager you probably should have gotten in trouble for but never got caught.
I've thought about this for half a day now and I can't come up with anything. It's not that I didn't do anything wild and crazy, but I can't think of anything I *should* have gotten in trouble for. Teenagers need to have their fun. Rob has a much better story - see the post below this one.

A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE...
It's funny how stuff you haven't thought about in years pops into your head after a trigger.And todays trigger is COPS on the USA network.Specifically the morons who try to run. They never get away,they end up slammed to the ground by really pissed off cops who apply liberal doses of knee and elbow. Serves them right.
That part reminds me of the old days on the crisis intervention team,when I was playing the cop role, when someone runs from you in your charge,two things go through your mind:why are they running? and I have to stop them. I have chased many, none got away,and I have administered the knee and elbow treatment liberally.
But what I remembered watching the skels run on cops today was running from the law,and getting away.
Me and some buddies were hanging out at the Armadillo world Headquarters as we frequently did.AWHQ was at the corner of Barton Springs and So.1st Street. Directly across the street was an apartment complex called the willows at the time,one block south of that was Timber Creek,where my best friend lived.These apartments were separated by a creek that had a trail along it leading to the back of Timber Creek,near my buddies apartment. I had walked that trail many times.
Anyway...we were leaving the dillo and headed home on foot when it started to rain,the guys I was with lived on down the road,I was going to my buddies apartment at Timber Creek. We stopped under the first floor of the willows to wait out the rain,talking and smoking on the sidewalk between 2 apartments, the conversation was about the nights events...foosball,the band playing,beer drinking and the drugs scored.I had a marlboro box FULL of white crosses...about a hundred.
Apparently,someone in one of those 2 apartments wasn't impressed with us and called the police.
The rain stopped,we walked out to the street and were saying our goodnights when 2 police cars pulled up,one headed north,one headed south...They jumped out of their cars and cried "hold it"! Which to 15 year olds holding drugs means run for your life...and I did...down that aforementioned trail,in the dark,as fast as I could,with a uniform in hot pursuit. I was way ahead until I hit the branch...about 3 inches in diameter and growing across the trail ankle high. One minute I'm running like the wind,the next I'm airborn...flying like superman,and all the while this cop is breathily yelling "halt police"!Yeah right,I'm gonna hold it with 100 hits of speed in my top left pocket.
I hit the ground hard,and in what can only be described as a Jackie Chan moment (culture jump here,but you get the drift) bounced up,on my feet,and continued running.
I cleared the trail and tossed the pack with the speed in it under the first car in the lot and ran the rest of the lot to my buddies apartment.
I pounded on his window,and he raised his blinds to see me,terrified,eyes as big as softballs,screaming let me in over and over and over.
He let me in,and we hid in the dark for what seemed an eternity.His mom worked the night shift and wasn't there thank god.She would of turned us both over.
We peeked out the window and saw cruisers cruising the parking lot for about 45 minutes...when they left,we smoked a bowl and crashed.
The next morning I retrieved my cig pack of speed and hitch hiked home,never giving it a second thought...it became the buzz story at school on monday.
The gravity of the situation never occurred to me until much later in life...
When I'm watching COPS,and someone runs...I say to the television...Ha motherfucker,I got AWAY...HAHAHA.
And I did get away,from all of that,eventually.
And as much as I understand the wrongness of it now,it still makes for good stories and great memories.

Movie Meme Comparison
Here's why movies are not on the top ten list of conversational topics when Rob and I go out to dinner. The bold ones are the movies we've seen.

ROB 1. The Godfather (1972) 2. The Shawshank Redemption (1994) 3. The Godfather: Part II (1974) 4. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) 5. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) 6. Casablanca (1942) 7. Schindler's List (1993) 8. Shichinin no samurai (1954) (The Seven Samurai) 9. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) 10. Citizen Kane (1941) 11. Star Wars (1977) 12. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) 13. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) 14. Rear Window (1954) 15. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) 16. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) 17. Memento (2000) 18. The Usual Suspects (1995) 19. Pulp Fiction (1994) 20. North by Northwest (1959) 21. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain (2001) (Amelie) 22. Psycho (1960) 23. 12 Angry Men (1957) 24. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 25. The Silence of the Lambs (1991) 26. Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966) (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly) 27. It's a Wonderful Life (1946) 28. Goodfellas (1990) 29. American Beauty (1999) 30. Vertigo (1958) 31. Sunset Blvd. (1950) 32. The Pianist (2002) 33. The Matrix (1999) 34. Apocalypse Now (1979) 35. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) 36. Some Like It Hot (1959) 37. Taxi Driver (1976) 38. Paths of Glory (1957) 39. The Third Man (1949) 40. C'era una volta il West (1968) (Once Upon a Time in the West) 41. Fight Club (1999) 42. Das Boot (1981) 43. Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001) (Spirited Away) 44. Double Indemnity (1944) 45. L.A. Confidential (1997) 46. Chinatown (1974) 47. Singin' in the Rain (1952) 48. Requiem for a Dream (2000) 49. The Maltese Falcon (1941) 50. M (1931) 51. All About Eve (1950) 52. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) 53. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) 54. Se7en (1995) 55. Saving Private Ryan (1998) 56. Cidade de Deus (2002) (City of God) 57. Raging Bull (1980) 58. The Wizard of Oz (1939) 59. Rashômon (1950) 60. The Sting (1973) 61. American History X (1998) 62. Alien (1979) 63. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) 64. Leon (The Professional) (1994) 65. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) 66. La Vita bella (1997) (Life Is Beautiful) 67. Touch of Evil (1958) 68. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) 69. Wo hu cang long (2000) (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon) 70. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) 71. The Great Escape (1963) 72. A Clockwork Orange (1971) 73. Reservoir Dogs (1992) 74. Annie Hall (1977) 75. Amadeus (1984) 76. Jaws (1975) 77. Ran (1985) 78. On the Waterfront (1954) 79. Modern Times (1936) 80. High Noon (1952) 81. Braveheart (1995) 82. The Apartment (1960) 83. The Sixth Sense (1999) 84. Fargo (1996) 85. Aliens (1986) 86. The Shining (1980) 87. Blade Runner (1982) 88. Strangers on a Train (1951) 89. Duck Soup (1933) 90. Metropolis (1927) 91. Finding Nemo (2003) 92. Donnie Darko (2001) 93. Toy Story 2 (1999) 94. The Princess Bride (1987) 95. The General (1927) 96. City Lights (1931) 97. Lola rennt (1998) (Run Lola Run) 98. Full Metal Jacket (1987) 99. Notorious (1946) 100. Det Sjunde inseglet (1957) (The Seventh Seal)

ANN 1. The Godfather (1972) 2. The Shawshank Redemption (1994) 3. The Godfather: Part II (1974) 4. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003) 5. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002) 6. Casablanca (1942) 7. Schindler's List (1993) 8. Shichinin no samurai (1954) (The Seven Samurai) 9. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) 10. Citizen Kane (1941) 11. Star Wars (1977) 12. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) 13. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964) 14. Rear Window (1954) 15. Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back (1980) 16. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) 17. Memento (2000) 18. The Usual Suspects (1995) 19. Pulp Fiction (1994) 20. North by Northwest (1959) 21. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain (2001) (Amelie) 22. Psycho (1960) 23. 12 Angry Men (1957) 24. Lawrence of Arabia (1962) 25. The Silence of the Lambs (1991) 26. Il Buono, il brutto, il cattivo (1966) (The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly) 27. It's a Wonderful Life (1946) 28. Goodfellas (1990) 29. American Beauty (1999) 30. Vertigo (1958) 31. Sunset Blvd. (1950) 32. The Pianist (2002) 33. The Matrix (1999) 34. Apocalypse Now (1979) 35. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) 36. Some Like It Hot (1959) 37. Taxi Driver (1976) 38. Paths of Glory (1957) 39. The Third Man (1949) 40. C'era una volta il West (1968) (Once Upon a Time in the West) 41. Fight Club (1999) 42. Das Boot (1981) 43. Sen to Chihiro no kamikakushi (2001) (Spirited Away) 44. Double Indemnity (1944) 45. L.A. Confidential (1997) 46. Chinatown (1974) 47. Singin' in the Rain (1952) 48. Requiem for a Dream (2000) 49. The Maltese Falcon (1941) 50. M (1931) 51. All About Eve (1950) 52. The Bridge on the River Kwai (1957) 53. Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1975) 54. Se7en (1995) 55. Saving Private Ryan (1998) 56. Cidade de Deus (2002) (City of God) 57. Raging Bull (1980) 58. The Wizard of Oz (1939) 59. Rashômon (1950) 60. The Sting (1973) 61. American History X (1998) 62. Alien (1979) 63. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939) 64. Leon (The Professional) (1994) 65. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) 66. La Vita bella (1997) (Life Is Beautiful) 67. Touch of Evil (1958) 68. The Manchurian Candidate (1962) 69. Wo hu cang long (2000) (Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon) 70. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) 71. The Great Escape (1963) 72. A Clockwork Orange (1971) 73. Reservoir Dogs (1992) 74. Annie Hall (1977) 75. Amadeus (1984) 76. Jaws (1975) 77. Ran (1985) 78. On the Waterfront (1954) 79. Modern Times (1936) 80. High Noon (1952) 81. Braveheart (1995) 82. The Apartment (1960) 83. The Sixth Sense (1999) 84. Fargo (1996) 85. Aliens (1986) 86. The Shining (1980) 87. Blade Runner (1982) 88. Strangers on a Train (1951) 89. Duck Soup (1933) 90. Metropolis (1927) 91. Finding Nemo (2003) 92. Donnie Darko (2001) 93. Toy Story 2 (1999) 94. The Princess Bride (1987) 95. The General (1927) 96. City Lights (1931) 97. Lola rennt (1998) (Run Lola Run) 98. Full Metal Jacket (1987) 99. Notorious (1946) 100. Det Sjunde inseglet (1957) (The Seventh Seal)

If I counted right, then the score is Rob: 68, Ann: 32

A week of blogs
Special K has a new (to her) computer so if you haven't stopped by lately due to the infrequent internet cafe posting, go there and get back in the groove of a laugh a day.

Essay had someone try to break into her house the other day and reminded me that I'm probably too much of a Texan to ever follow through on my occasional desire to move to Canada. Between the cold weather, no guns in the house and not being able to buy beer at the corner convenience store, I think I might end up with a severe case of culture shock.

Billy comments a bit on the subject of mathmatics and apparently multiplication in England is taught much the same way my own third grade teacher tried to shove it down my throat which is to just memorize the tables. That made absolutely no sense to me and I spent many agonizing evenings with my parents and "flash cards" trying to memorize the result of 3x3 and such until one day I figured out how it worked and that 3x3 was just short hand for 3+3+3. Now would it really have been so hard for the teacher to EXPLAIN that? Jeez.

Blue Witch has headed off on her travels, but has a plan for remote blogging. Let's hope it works.

Speaking of math, Jim has a word problem for you and the comments are a hoot.

Dooce has posted the last of the belly pictures. I recognized the first one and realized I've been reading her blog through her entire pregnancy. I'd like to make some profound statement about how blogs let you follow events in someone's life over time and how cool that is, but I haven't had near enough coffee.

Broad at Bat had a great idea - YOU write the post she lost when her battery died. I didn't attempt it since there's no way I could write anything as well as she does.

Niki had some breaking news and if this post doesn't have you rolling on the floor, you might want to check for a pulse. And take a moment to answer the mini-poll if you stop by.

Bob turned me on to the website mixmaster. Rob and I had some good chuckles over it.

Skot is always a good source of amusement, but this post about the car had me snorting coffee out my nose.

Subversity has a post about Howard Dean which is one of those posts where I think, "Yeah, what he said".

And there's plenty more, but I'm out of coffee and need to rustle up a restaurant coupon in the hopes that Rob and I can afford to do our traditional Sunday brunch.

A TYPICAL DAY
5:45am: alarm goes off,hit snooze bar and calculate 15 minutes fast until the last minute,get up and shower (shave if I have time)
6:30-6:45: Try to get out of the house with everything and begin commute to work.Usually have to go back in the house to retrieve something.
6:45-7:15: Dodge cars,curse at red lights,stop at the 7-11 for coffee, arrive at work.
7:15-8:00: Clock in,log on,check messages,discuss breakfast tacos with co-workers,usually order tacos,eat,catch up with current events,phone starts ringing at 8:00 and doesn't stop.
8:01am-4:ishpm: Answer phones,take customer orders,diagnose problems over the phone,recieve material,recieve PO's,generate sales orders,PO's, coordinate deliveries to and from the shop,answer stupid questions,go to lunch between 12 and 2,time allowing,or wait for dinner.
4ishpm-5:30pm: fight traffic home,call wife on cell and have the same discussion we've had for almost 10 years about dinner,no decision made.
5:30: greet dogs (3) listen to non stop barking (what they did today I suppose) for about 5 minutes,greet wife,go out to dinner.
8:00: return from dinner, greet dogs (see 5:30),get on internet,feed dogs/turtles. Let dogs out,let dogs in,replenish water at least twice.Blog,watch some TV,visit with wife.Let dogs out,let dogs in,investigate what they're barking at.
10-11:00: The daily show and tough crowd (usually).
11:00:Bedtime,fight dogs for space on the bed.Finally settle in to a comfy configuration...sleep.

What's your day like?

LOST ONE TODAY...
Out of the thirty turtles who live with us, eight of them are babies, 2 to three years old.One of these babies grew normally for awhile and then stopped around the size of a quarter. The diet was exactly the same for all eight of them,same environment,etc.It just stopped growing, despite a voracious appetite. I suspect it had metabolic bone disease. I say "it" because it's difficult to sex turtles when they are so young,one tip off is the tail length,and judging on that, "it" was a he,called (unimaginatively) runt.
Runt was cool, kind of like wee man from jackass...always in there with his bigger brothers and sisters,holding his own. Our little turtle that could. Last summer he suffered an ant bite to his eye,which caused that alkaline swelling common to ant bites,in this case the swelling was almost as big as his head.I brought him inside and did what I could to help him out...he survived,sans eyelid and probably sight in that eye, yet he soldiered on.
As I've written,they are inside for the winter.Today was soak/feed day for them, and I found Runt dead.
I wasn't surprised...I knew this day would come. But as I watched his brothers and sisters soak and drink and clamor about,I wondered if they missed him like I did.

Apparently JF was right
Once upon a time, Rob was involved in a conversation with "the guys" about their wives. I don't remember the context of the conversation since I wasn't there and only know about it because Rob told me about this particular comment: at some point in the conversation, JF turns to Rob and says, "That's because you married a man." My initial reaction was to feel insulted, but Rob explained that it was a compliment and knowing JF, it probably was. Well, The Gender Test has proven JF to be correct. According to the test I am definitely a man. I did correct them and got a good laugh from this text: People like you, who walk the scary line between man and woman, are *very* helpful in understanding exactly what it means to be human. Scary line, eh?

The fact that I appear to think more like a man than a woman probably explains my life-long difficulty in finding female friends. There's much about the "average woman" that I've encountered which I don't understand. Conversations within a group of these woman usually involve shopping, make-up, fashion, babies or children, movie stars, gossip magazines, or health problems. None of which are on my list of the top 1000 topics of discussion. The guys, on the other hand, are likely to be discussing cars, computers, politics, guns, tattoos, rock/punk/heavy metal bands or sports. Sports is missing from my topic list, but the others all rank pretty high up there. Which group do you think I'm going to go hang out with? However, it's not just conversational topics that get me, but what seems to me to be very weird thinking. Like, giving your husband "the silent treatment". What's up with that? How does that accomplish anything? Or that "no sex until he (insert conditional statement here)" Huh? You want to deny yourself a good roll in the hay because he forgot to take out the trash? I don't get it. Why not just take out the trash yourself if it's such a big deal? And why are you talking about this stuff anyway... for once, can't this group of women discuss the possibility of life on Mars instead of "Men are from Mars/Woman are from Venus?" or whatever the hell that book is called.

That said, blog reading has opened my eyes to the fact that there are plenty of women in this world that don't match the "average woman" standard that I've inadvertently compiled over the years. In fact, there are so many out there that I'm completely mystified as to why I have not met more women like this in person. Maybe the woman I've met are actually just like the blogging women, but don't show that side of themselves in social settings. I don't know. Anyone else got a clue to this mystery?

Neither a TV child, nor adult be
I've come to realize over my lifespan so far that my life-long habit of not watching TV is a detriment to my social life. We had a TV when I was a wee child. It was a green and white thing (we didn't get a true grey and white until I was much older.) My brothers watched the Lone Ranger and other stuff, but for the most part I ignored that box, favoring books and the erector set or self-made fantasy worlds in the back yard. I didn't watch the TV reports of the Kennedy assassination or the Whitman shootings and though I knew about such things from the newspaper, I don't have vivid memories of the televised events like many of my peers. I saw some of the news reports on the Vietnam war during dinner time, enough to place me firmly in the anti-war camp at the time and that's probably the biggest influence TV has ever had on me. Over the years my parents watched TV at dinner and in the evenings so I have a vague familiarity with Ed Sullivan, Red Skelton, The Honeymooners, Dragnet, Mannix, The Carol Burnett Show, All in the Family, Baretta, Columbo, and more. However, I rarely actually watched these shows, so my memories are just tid-bits that I happened to catch while eating dinner or passing through the room. TV just didn't hold my attention then nor does it do a very good job of grabbing it now. And so, in many social settings when the topic turns to TV present or past, I'm at a complete loss. Captain Kangaroo passed away today and my memory of that show is nothing more than the theme song, his face and a brief bit with Mr. Green Jeans. I probably only saw that show a few times and that's true of most TV programs. As a result, there's always this gap when it comes to connecting with my peers, most of whom were raised on TV and continue to be avid consumers. I simply can't connect on that subject with Rob or others because it's just not a part of my experience. At parties or gatherings, I'm often left without a damn thing to say because the conversation has strayed to TV topics and I'm the only one standing there who is competely clueless. Now I could, thanks to cable TV, catch up on all this stuff I've missed over the years, but quite frankly, I don't care to do that. I'd rather spend an hour at a party with nothing to say than to spend hours watching reruns of The Brady Bunch. Improved social interaction just isn't worth it.

THE MAN WHO BROUGHT US "PUFFIN' BILLY" IS DEAD...
I thought Captain Kangaroo took a dirt nap a long time ago...I watched that show every morning until I started kindergarten (hitler for indoctrination),and then only saw it when I was sick...I remember watching the captain while laying on my mom's big braided rug,oval in shape,that made for a race track for my matchbox cars...a living room reality when the brain is cooking at about a 101.My mom would bring me sweet hot tea and slices of toast to settle my stomach.
Tom terrific and his dog,the mighty manfred....Mr. Moose and Rabbit,and Mr. green jeans...who knew that was Frank Zappa/Frank Zappa's dad???That played for great folklore when I was a hair farming pot head in the 70's.
I learned to make cool things out of shoe boxes,construction paper and glue and brads...I can't believe I'm remembering these things.
But mostly I remember the sense of belonging,of well being...of being part of something so...so kangaroo...
Thank you Captain, and fare thee well.

The whiskey (aka Jack Daniels), lemon, honey cough syrup recipe
Okay, for all you Google folks searching for this that keep landing here...

Mom's mix: one tablespoon whiskey, one tablespoon honey, one tablespoon lemon juice.
Mom's dosage amounts: for kids, one tablespoon of mix; adults drink the whole thing.

Ann's "I need to sleep" recipe: one ounce whiskey, 1/2 ounce lemon juice, one tablespoon honey. Optional: zap it in the microwave. Adults only, drink it all. Repeat every hour or so until you finally conk out. Within reason here; if you've got a really bad cough and this doesn't help after a few hours then you probably need to go see a doctor.

The job hunt
I suppose the big news from me is that I've had a few job interviews this last week; several phone interviews and one in-person today. All for the same job as they are being very picky about who they hire and I won't know until next week what the final outcome will be. I completely understand why they are being picky so none of this bothers me. Sometimes when you hear "we need the right person" it's nothing but smoke up your ass, but in this case, it's justified. So am I the right person for the job? Honestly, I'm not in a position to judge. I've got the skills they need, in fact, far more skills than they need, but this is a job where personality is more of a key factor than skills and only my interviewers can make that call. I'd really like to get this job. I don't care that it's low pay and no benefits because that has never meant much to me. I'd rather make minimum wage at a job I believed in than earn a fabulous salary at some heartless corporation (I've done both.) For me, work is all about doing meaningful work, not about how fat a paycheck I can earn. This is a place that does meaningful work; it has heart and soul and there are good people there, but as much as I'd like to have the job, it won't benefit the company or me if I'm not the "right person" so I'm cool with whatever they decide. What will be, will be....

THE FRIDAY FIVE:

1.With all the craziness lately,I'd have to say my current fave is Korn's "Reclaim my space"...and only because of the excellently inflected "What the f*ck"?!? over and over and over......

2.The curried chicken at Twin Dragon,or maybe twice cooked pork(which smells like a diaper,but tastes like heaven!)

3.Tough Crowd....really good season so far.

4.Indica,man,Indica...I haven't smoked in quite awhile,but happened to be in the vicinity when some was this week...there's nothing quite like the smell of kind.......:)

5."you don't get tattoos,you earn them"....unknown.After watching my son grit his teeth and make faces like there was some sort of unsavory prison activity going on,This little gem rings true.

Have a great weekend

THE BEAT DOWN
I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone with various banks, title companies and county agencies trying to figure out where this lien of '77 came from.See:Travels with murphy My last conversation with my loan closer ended like this: Her:"I asked the title company to check again to make sure there wasn't another...pause...there wasn't a mistake made on the first check". "You have to try to be patient".Patient!?Come on! We're headed into day 42 of this god damn nightmare...I have done 90% of the leg work for your (let's all laugh together) "Title Company" and you have the balls to tell me to be patient!???
I wanted to say that,but when your dealing with someone who is going to loan you money,you bite your tongue...almost off today.
She also informed me that if we didn't close by the end of the month,I would have to reapply...all I could muster at that point was..."you've got to be kidding me"...
Depending on who I talked to, I was told the time it would take to resolve this issue was anywhere from a week to a month or more.
I contacted the mortgage company I had paid off and inquired about the release of lien and was told it had been filed and recorded on nov.3,2003.
Now...I asked myself,If the release was filed and recorded by my mortgage company how could the lien from the original mortgage still be on record? It can't is the simple answer.
I called the county office of records and inquired,and sure enough,they had my release of lien on file...not only that, I could get a copy of it...for a dollar. A GOD DAMN DOLLAR!
So, I drove to the records office,and in less than 5 minutes,I had the document in my hands.They also had a bank of computers that were available for public use...AT NO COST! In another 5 minutes,I learned that my property was free of ANY liens...FOR FREE!So,let's recap:
Bank: 41 days and counting...still haven't gotten it right.
Me: 5 min. phone call, 10 minute drive,10 minutes at the records office, 10 minute drive back to the shop...35 minutes to verify a clear title,AND I had the document in my possession.
Not bad for a parts manager whose never worked in a bank,eh?
I faxed the document to my loan closer along with a subtly snarky note and took off my gloves and spit out my mouth guard.
We'll see what happens tomorrow.
"Look OG, I've discovered the wheel"....

THINGS ON MY MIND
Doocehad a post about her brothers dog...I read it at work...mistake.Not that being on the internet at work when it's not related to pools and spas is a mistake...PLEASE,don't make me go there.It made me cry...I'm sorry for your loss and can relate. I remembered Buddy and Skeeter and Diamond,and then I remembered Irene and Theo and Sullivan,here with us now...not those we had lost,but we love them as much if not more,maybe because of the memories of dogs gone before them.
Right on the heels ofSkot's post about his childhood dog, Andy...which I also read at work,it too made me cry.
It's been a dog death heavy week so far,which brought up the whole mortality thing for me...Theo and Irene are starting to show some grey...they are not too long in the tooth,but I refer to Theo as "old Man" more often these days,and feel funny about calling Irene my "little girl"...when in reality she is my "middle aged woman".
I can't forget Cypress...who was killed by Pit Bulls in his own back yard so many years ago...but the sight of him dead is (excuse the expression) a bad trip tattooed on my brain. ( I killed the dogs responsible...and ,to be honest,I enjoyed it at the time...revenge if you will...I have come to regret killing them,they were the victims of an owner who was obviously compensating for his small penis).
Kind of like those guys with the really big trucks,all jacked up with the big fat tires in direct contradiction to their withered appendages.But I digress.
Back to the dog thing...
Once,when I was out in the field cleaning pools,I was attacked by a group of dachshunds....really! They chased me around and around until I bailed onto the trunk of a car,safe from their pointy, frothy teeth.I was wearing sandals that day.When I went back to clean that pool on the following week I wore my 8 hole steel-toed docs,designed to propel said weinerdogs into the stratosphere...they were safely esconsed in their own back yard,unable to harass me. Would I have really kicked them into next tuesday?Not likely...I would have more likely scratched the trunk of the car up with my punk-ass steel toed boots.:)
Enough about dogs.
The state of the union address:
We are in deep DEEP trouble,and everyone seems to be aware of this except the people that matter...and in this case,the people that matter apparently don't give a shit about everyone who knows the trouble we're in...I am deeply concerned...but they don't care about what I think...If I speak my mind enough,they will find me and send me to GITMO.
So I better watch it,measure my rants and try to stay above that ever shrinking bar of patriotism...Ashcroftphobia is a good thing,apparently...who wants to deal with a man who is disturbed by concrete breasts and calico cats?
OK...I have officially moved into rambling....
I'll shut up
for now

TRAVELS WITH MURPHY
If it could go wrong today,it did.Not horribly wrong,just enough to tweak you out. My son is going to school and working (mostly graveyard shifts recently) and in a gallant effort to coordinate our day of tattooing,decided he would come to our house after work and nap here until it was time to go see Andreas...to insure he wouldn't fall asleep at his place and be late/miss our appointment.Guess what?He got off early and decided to go to his place for a short nap...when he wasn't here by 10,I called and woke him up,he said he was getting ready and would see me here at 11:30,at 11:45 I called and woke him up again...I headed on over to andreas' and told my son to go to a specific intersection near the place ,call my cell, and I would direct him from there.
So,by 12:45,we're all in the same spot,and the drawing / stencil making process begins.
Wait...let's back up...when I arrived,I walked up to the door and knocked and suddenly heard a very menacing bark/growl behind me...through the bush I could see a very large Dog...Boxer?Pit Bull? Couldn't tell...but I could tell he was mean,he didn't like me,and Andreas wasn't coming to the door.As my fear rapidly rose (Just stand still was on endless replay in my head) and the dog advanced,I ran the checklist....no gun,no knife,no stick,no rocks,too far away to make a break for the car,I'm done for,I hope he has his vaccinations...please for gods sake,answer the door before it's too late!
I got in before I got attacked...Andreas explained:"That's the dog from across the street...Problems...almost killed his hosts pet awhile back...not a nice dog."
This day,so far,was not going at all as I had planned.It was a Boxer,by the way.
I get to go first, mostly because my son had been cautioned about tattoos on the lower back being more painful than the one he got on the middle of his back last year,and was freaking himself out about it.Anyway,I was done and after clean-up and reset-up,it was his turn.
Now,when getting a tattoo it's imperative that you don't twitch around like a chihuahua.Kyle was having some trouble with this initially,but managed to deal with it.
I went outside (back yard) to have a smoke and call the bank to check on the loan I was supposed to close tomorrow or friday.Or so I thought.
I was informed by the bank that they had discovered a lien on my house for 22,000 DOLLARS!!!!!WHAT??????!!!!!!!It was from 1977!!!!I was in high school in '77!!!
I have never applied for a home loan in my life,and back on Dec.11th,they made it sound like it would be easy...PAF!Instead of "loan closing" it should be called "your own personalized inquisition"(Murphy has been tailing me on this from the get go).
Oh...in all the excitement I forgot to mention that my credit union called me this morning to inform me my Visa bank card had been "compromised" and they had to cancel it...explaining why my card would not work yesterday.They couldn't explain exactly how it had gotten compromised...figures.I like simple succinct explanations about stuff like this,it makes me feel like whoever I'm dealing with has their shit all in one sock and the holes have been darned...Not so in this case,and unfortunately,not so in the case of the above mentioned loan.
If this clusters*CZ of mine is any indication of how the rest of the business world operates,it truly is a wonder we can make fire.
Back to the tattoos...We got done,they look great.Here's a picture of mine...I didn't get a picture of Kyles because I had left the camera in the car and was afraid to go get it because of that damn dog.....

Kyle's white rabbit looks great...the head is fashioned after Frank in Donnie Darko...very creepy.I'll post a pic this weekend most likely.

WELCOME TO THE LAND OF SECOND CHANCES
And this actually fell out of the mouth of the man who put over a hundred people to death in Texas,and is responsible for the deaths of 500 in Iraq and it's forgotten cousin,Afghanistan.
I am reminded of Tom Tomorrow's excellent, precognitive take on tonight's state of the union....LIES
Lies and more lies.
What pandering snake oil salesmen his speech writers must be...Surely,the only thing the asshole in chief contributed to tonight's circle jerk was his affect disorder.
(If you're guessing I wasn't impressed,you are correct.)
Land of second chances my ass.

THE ITCH
I got the itch...That tattoo itch.2 more days and I can scratch that itch. Now,I could get ink any time,I've got a leg sleeve under construction by my buddy Hez here locally,but Andreas is in town.
As I said before, he's gonna add another chapter to my son's alice in wonderland backpiece and do some knuckle work on me...Should I do both hands now,while he's here or just do my neck hand and wait on the pick one?
Fuck it...do 'em both now.
But what about the consequences?
I remember when I went below the wrists Bobby Love commented "man,you're fucked now"...so...logic tells me if I was fucked then,what difference does it make if I move down from the backs of my hands to my knuckles?
Knuckles???Am I really that out of space?Not really,I still have most of my front torso to decorate,but somehow the thought of a tattoo machine going across my ribs doesn't appeal to me...knuckles I can handle...10 minutes on each one versus several hours on the same spot.
So...it's card suits on the right hand,and the crown,skull,nautical star on the left.
I can do the torso later...and I probably will.
Thanks Dad :)

DOWN THE PRIMROSE PATH...
I cannot wait for the state of the bulshi..er...union address by sir bunnypants tomorrow.
What's in store? Lot's of distortions about his accomplishments and a heapin' helpin' of horse shit initiatives...lets review:
The marriage thing:really,when you get right down to it, it's 1.5 billion aimed at undermining the gay/lesbian members of our "society" and the gains they have struggled to make (this earns him 500 fuck yous)
The moon/mars nonsense: just a diversion,plain and simple.A lame assed attempt to refocus the public on how great we are...kind of like putting foundation on that red,oozing herpe sore on your face...everyone knows it's there,but we'll pretend it isn't. (1000 fuck yous)
The immigrant amnesty: If you want to blow fox,go ahead and blow him...please.(1500 fuck yous)
Winning the war on terror: You don't have a fucking clue, 500 + dead and gone after you declared "mission accomplished"...they brought it on and you are confirmed an asshole. (150,000 fuck yous)
Afghanistan: Who??? (get your war on) (300,000 fuck yous)
The erosion of our civil rights...don't need to elaborate (more fuck yous than I can count)...but this is something you'll couch in phrases designed to make us feel safe.
Fuck feelings! We aren't safe,and no matter how much smoke you blow won't change that fact.
A divided democratic party: Your bullshit and spin is working on them...and their sniping and derision will work for you just like you planned it. (still can't count that high).
A long time ago, a band called Flux of Pink Indians cried to the world,"they lie,we die" and sang " to blow this world up ten times is better than to blow it up once"...they were talking about britain, little did they know....
This is what needs to be happening:
Get out of Iraq et al...and soon.
Leave the middle east to the middle east...if they want to destroy each other,let 'em,we can always go in and mop up when they're done.Until then,it's really none of our business.
If they fuck with us,we fuck back,but not until.
Focus on US...remember US? Were hurting here.
Make amends with all the countries we've alienated...
Purge the government of the staph infection that is the republican party...starting with GW Bush (and please bunnypants...don't come back to texas)
Wow! That felt good...too bad I'm probably just pissin' in the wind....

THE TURTLE THING
I have turtles as pets...lots of them...30 to be exact.I used to have more,but I released my aquatic turtles summer before last and in the 6 years I've been doing the turtle thing I've lost 6...all to natural causes except for 2, Mauricio,a central american wood turtle,who was eaten by rats and houdini,a red eared slider, who was eviserated by the main drain in his pond.

I used to belong to and subscribe to a few of the many turtle organizations/web forums,but not anymore...not for a year or more. The overwhelming majority of these groups are harmless enough...advocates for turtle conservation.Believe it or not,turtles are a threatened species worldwide...especially in Asia...where they are being eaten out of existance,literally.

Some of the individuals involved are bored soccer moms with too much time on their hands,prone to engaging in bullshit politics.Some are like me,I just like turtles and wanted to be an advocate.And some are,quite simply,not right in the head.
It was the not right in the head variety that drove me to drop my connections with the online turtle community.

There was once a website called Turtle Cafe, out of austin,the owner was a woman who went by TCC,she had a shitload of turtles and tortoises and sold grazing foods for the tortoises.I knew her online at first,and was honored to be invited to her place, I helped her out with rescues and the general business of keeping turtles.She was a little eccentric...ok...alot,but she was a beautiful person,fragile to be sure,but beautiful none the less.She was a kindred spirit and I felt a connection with her.
There was this other site in california that was in competetion for the tortoise grazing business on the internet,and they would fuck with TCC...Once they posted a picture of her at one of those websites "whose hot,whose not" or some such nonsence...it was a picture of TCC with one of her tortoises,only they photoshopped some boobs onto her body...along with this they bombarded her with threatening emails and posted all manner of bullshit all over the turtle community about her.This was a mistake.Almost everyone in the community had an opinion about it...but most were lame ass about it, a few came to her defense,but not many.TCC killed herself.And that was the end of my affiliation with the turtle community online. If I ever have the opportunity to come face to face with the individuals that pushed my friend over the edge,they will be truly sorry...in that "this is worse than death" kind of way...if you know what I mean.
So now I do my turtle thing on my own,with a few local people.My server is currently down,but I still have a website-turtopia.com-that provides info to people interested in keeping turtles.
Turtles are fascinating creatures,ancient,complex,individual...I could go on and on,but I won't.

TCC gave me a bottle of home made cactus wine a few years back, I can't bring myself to open it...so it sits in my wine rack gathering dust,a memory of a friend I didn't get to know long enough.

FUN WITH TECHNOLOGY
It rained off and on all day,and that's bad for the pool business.It was very,VERY slow around the shop,that is, until we discovered that our extremely techno-phobic outside salesman forgot to log out of his email yesterday!
We decided to send text messages to his phone using his email...but there had to be a rule,and the rule was:
Every text message had to contain the words asshat and fuckstick...Brilliant!
Here we go!!!

8:39am:Hey asshat I dropped my fuckstick.

12:10pm:HEY ASSHAT! FIND YOUR FUCKSTICK YET?

1:31pm:HELLOOO ASSHAT,WANT TO BUY MY FUCKSTICK?

3:10pm:Stop playing with your fuckstick,Asshat!

3:38pm:CALL 1-800-ASSHATT
TO GET YOUR FREE FUCKSTICK!!!
I know it sounds incredibly juvenile and asinine,but I don't think I've laughed that hard in months!

Moving along....
I've been trying to figure out what president bunnypants is really up to with his recent slew of initiatives besides the obvious motive of blowing the most smoke possible up our collective asses...I've come up with a six ways to kevin baconesque theory on what his ultimate ulterior motive might be:
1.Amnesty for illegal aliens...this will bring many of them out into the open,where they can be rounded up and sent to camps where they will "benefit" from:
2.The marriage initiative or whatever this multibillion dollar scam is called: so they can be brainwashed with the basic family values that will keep the families intact while they slowly lose their minds waiting:
3.On that permanent base he's planning on building on the moon as a way station to the :
4.Mining operations on mars
Bunnypants knows whose good with a shovel...Rat Bastard.

TATTOOS...THEY'RE NOT JUST FOR BREAKFAST ANYMORE...IT'S A FAMILY TRADITION
Last year,when my son turned 18, he didn't know what he wanted for his birthday...At the last minute he remembered what I had told him all his life:"If you get a tattoo before you turn 18,I promise I will REMOVE it for you. Said in that sinister dad's not fucking around here kind of way.Well, it worked...In spite of all the other misery he put me through,he believed me when I said I would remove any bullshit party tattoo he got in a most unpleasant way...He was able to resist the temptation until his 18th birthday...Then he remembered the OTHER thing I said about the subject:"If you decide you want one when you turn 18,I'll pay for it provided the artist is,well...An artist and not a needle freak (this referring to bad artists and not junkies).
Guess what he wanted for his birthday?That's right...And being a man of my word when I can't get around it,I agreed.
As luck would have it,the guy who did my back piece and whose known Kyle since he was a little boy,was in town for the tattoo convention,was available to tattoo my son.
He got a cheshire cat on his back,right between his boney shoulderblades...One of the worst possible places to get a first tattoo.He drew it himself(my son is an accomplished artist on paper and on the computer) and after a very few tattoo smart alterations, it was on...And it looked great.After it healed,we realized that the right side whiskers were missing...Understandable what with all the blood and ink spill.
So,as luck would have it,my buddy was back for the convention this year. Time to fill in the missing whiskers...And guess what my son wants for his birthday this year...That's right,another Alice in wonderland themed tattoo...And he shall have it.Drawn by him.
Last year,I got a tattoo with him,an old school lucky 13 horseshoe...This year it's knuckle tats of a crown,a skull and a nautical star.Father and son tattoos might sound kind of strange but me and my dad did the very same thing,in the very shop where my friend worked when he was in Texas,when he met my son.
Some fathers and sons fish or golf together,we get tattooed together.
I look at the tattoos I got with my dad and I smile at the memories...I look at the tattoo I got with my son and I smile at the memories so far and the memories to come.
Happy birthday Kyle...I'm looking forward to watching you make the "bitch face"(means OUCH!) and hope you don't notice when I make mine:).

DO YOU WANT THE BLUE PILL OR THE RED ONE?BOTH??
Where I work,I am blessed/cursed with working with some friends...I hold most of the other employees in high regard and occasionally socialize away from work with them all.
There are a few that are just co-workers.
The problem is the ones I'm closest to...these are the guys that got me the job in the first place and the owner of the company.
Back in the social worker days I was friends with peers and subordinates...hell I even slept with a few of them and lived with one for 8 years...but,being social workers,we had a twisted kind of bond that allowed us to be brutally honest with each other in the name of the job,treating the patient.We also had the uncanny ability to separate our own less than moral behavior from the morals we espoused to our patients,the details of which I won't go into...it was do what I say,not what I do,and what I do when I'm not here is none of your business,your business is why are you here?and what do you need to do to get back in the world and start acting like I do when I'm not here.It was done in a honest,open way,in front of everyone else...a critique presented in the spirit of strengthening the team.We were all focused on one goal,the maintenance of a therapeutic milieu.Critiques were not taken personally,as a rule,and if they were it was sorted out right away.
The people I work with now are NOT social workers,and have a rudimentary concept of what it means to be a team player. You have to watch what you say.The politics are different.
The farther away I get from what I did back in the day,the more confused I get.I can't be honest anymore without wondering if it's gonna come back and bite me on the ass,under any circumstance.
Back in the day,there was a clear code of conduct...there are no clear parameters anymore...I am frequently reminded of that scene from Apocalypse Now where captain willard asks the wild eyed grunt in the trench "who's in charge here soldier"? And the reply is a manic "Ain't you"?!
Responsibility and accountability is a game of hot potato...I try to set an example by owning up to my mistakes,and when I do,it's almost like I've ruined the game.If I can't legitimately point to someone else,I don't.And on the occasions when I can and do,I always get a sick feeling about doing it .
Back in the day,loyalty and trust was the foundation...today they feel more like shifting fields,changing everyday given the turf we find ourselves deployed on.
And I ask myself which experience is the real experience?It's the same game...only the rules are different somehow,and even after 6 years in this job I still haven't lost my memory of how it was,back in the day.
And I'm beginning to realize,that, while we were honest with each other,what we did was artificial , a cartoon of real life. A construct of the world, as seen through the eyes of a bunch of people with degrees in psychology imposing this reality on people who came from the real world...the one I'm in now.
Learning to be careful is hard.

I have the best husband in the world (for me, anyway)
You may have picked up from Rob's post yesterday mentioning tampons that I'm riding the red ball express, on the rag, Aunt Flo is visiting, oh hell, I can't remember the rest of the euphemisms. This, no doubt, explains some of my frustration level with the enetation comments, but I usually don't get the PMS variety that has me going after Rob with a butcher knife because he left the cap off the toothpaste. I do, however, get an intense craving for school cafeteria food around this time. I think it's the fat content because this is also the only time I have any interest in chocolate. And Rob, being the incredibly wise and sensitive man that he is, has cooked me a dinner consisting of Sloppy Joes and Macaroni and Cheese. Ah, perfection! I am SO spoiled.

Friendster
Circumstances involving bookmyband required I join Friendster today. So I've got only one friend in the network and yet I find this:
Your Personal Network currently contains 67182 people.

You can increase the size of your Personal Network by Inviting more friends.

Egads! Why would I want to increase the size of my Personal Network if it's already the size of a small city?

--P.S. If you want to endure the server lag and find me on Friendster, it's ann@bookmyband.com. Because I really needed that twelfth email address...

I hate to bitch about a free service, but...
The repeated failure of the comments program on this blog to function is about to send me up on a roof with a rifle. That's a joke folks, I don't own a rifle. But maybe it's time to move off BlogSpot and switch to MT...

The info I want is not on this highway...
I had one of my recurring dreams last night and figured I just might find a clue on the internet about it's meaning. It's a dream that I'm drowning, but it has a weird twist to it. In the dream I realize that I'm still breathing and at this point I get the equivalent of a "does not compute" error message and I wake up. I know that drowning dreams are very common and usually represent feeling overwhelmed, but I've never seen this twist mentioned in anything I found on the internet. Besides, I usually dream about elevators when I'm feeling overwhelmed. My drowning dreams always end this way and I've had them before, the first one when I was a kid, but they are spaced so many years apart that I can't come up with a common denominator of "issues". And why the "does not compute" ending instead of just a realization that I'm dreaming? I suppose this is one downfall of not having a job; too much time for navel gazing.

MONDAY-MONDAY-MONDAY...
Work was the usual...We are switching over to a new record keeping system (to launch jan.1...that should give you an idea of how well it's going) that is woefully inadequate in the area of purchase orders and inventory control...my primary area of responsibility.
The owner has a penchant for asking me questions about ordered parts when it's time to pay the invoices...if it goes beyond my 2 week limit to remembering things purchased and why,I could pull up the information in no time in our old system and address his concerns.
This is a luxury we no longer have.Purchase orders will now be received when the ap clerk pays the invoice...weeks after the part has been ordered and installed and billed to the customer...we have a hard time keeping up with it now, I can only imagine the problems ahead.
Despite this,I am trying to be proactive and positive and figure out a way to make this retarded cousin of what we had work. It looks like I'll have to develop a manual system to track parts...a step backwards.
But,you get what you pay for I guess,and the dispatching/scheduling module is fantastic.
After lunch,we were outside smoking and the AP clerk wondered out loud what that brown lump was in the field behind our shop...was it a dog?was it dead? The cleaning manager and I decided it was a deer,but drove over to investigate.Driving across the field in my rodeo made me feel like one of those adventurer guys on the discovery channel.When we got to the brown lump,it looked at us...exposing the face of the biggest pit bull I'd seen since the ones I shot in my back yard 9 years ago.He was huge! He got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.
Since neither of us have a concealed carry permit (yet) ,we decided to go back to the shop and call animal control...about thirty minutes later,animal control shows up,the dog hadn't moved...we pointed him out and the AC guy went off to capture the dog...we got ring side seats to watch the drama unfold.
He approached the dog in his truck,and when he got too close,the dog got up,moved about 10 feet away and lay down again.AC guy got out of his truck and produced a giant butterfly net(!!???this is a 100 lb. PIT BULL,with a formidible nutsack-intact!) and then a catch pole/noose and approached the dog.
The chase was on! The dog took off...not in that "oh no! it's the dog catcher" panic,but more like a saunter like he was saying "ok,I'm leaving...don't fuck with me or I'll rip you and your silly net to shreds".
The dog won,he got away...no injuries to either party.The AC guy came back to shop and wondered if there was a bitch in heat somewhere. I remembered the look the dog gave us,and then I remembered the look my old dog Buddy used to get when the scent was in the air...then later I noticed the neighbors white german Sheppard sniffing at the sky wanfully. Then I felt bad,this poor dog was just trying to get laid and we cockblocked him.
Finally the end of the day...Ann and I decided on dinner and I headed to the grocery,where it was,unfortunately,not the end of the day...all the stress and frustration that was abscent from work was waiting for me there,at the grocery store we refer to as the "third world grocery".
We are item specific shoppers,and can usually get in the 10 items or less line...commonly referred to as the "express lane"...as far as this store is concerned,express lane is a cruel,cruel joke.
This store is like a live version of the game doom...each aisle is a level presenting it's own challenge and,instead of guns and lasers,your weapons are you cart and your facial expressions.Instead of orcs and demons,your enemys are the predominantly non english speaking customers whose weapons are thier carts,their litter of unruly children running around with no parental intervention and the obvious disdain they have for you,the 40 something white guy. (a clarification here,I do not consider myself a racist...I grew up in the south around people of color,knew their families,played with them and grew up to work in diverse workplaces with harmony and an understanding that we are all just folks...I have also shopped in other stores,in predominantly white areas of town and had the same experiences...except in those cases I was the 40 something white guy who should be shopping where I belong...with that said...)
They block the ailses,they park in the middle of the ailses 2 carts abreast and talk in a language I don't understand and give me those looks...the looks are the worst thing,I try to smile and stand there,blocked,my polite requests of "excuse me" go unheeded.Oh yeah...I forgot...they"don't understand english" how god damn convenient.So I turn around (if I can) and retreat,I will attempt this level later and now head to the Pharmacy of hell level,where on a good day,the wait is only 30 minutes,and none of the customers speak english,get way more medication than I get,whip out that medicaid/WIC/whatever card and pay 10 dollars,while I,even with insurance,pay 100...I made it through the pharmacy level,but it cost me.
Then,on to the tampon ailse level(yes...I buy tampons for Ann,it doesn't bother me,I've heard it's an issue for some guys and to this I say get over it you big baby)...today there were three twenty-something girls bogarting the tampon area... waving around various boxes of 'poons and I guess discussing the merits of each...I couldn't understand what they were saying,perhaps it was "look at the white dude needing to get tampons for his woman,let's stand here talking gibberish and see how uncomfortable we can make him"...nah...probably not.I left the ailse and circled around for at least 10 minutes...they finally got the ones with wings and landing gear and left,I swooped in and grabbed the ones I needed and I was ready for the final level....check out.
Check out is where the "inability" to understand spoken or written english comes heavily into play. And underlines the cruel joke that is the "express lane" at the third world...when the other lines are backed up,they get into the 10 or less lane with a basket full and then pretend to not understand the concept of 10 or less...christ!Even I can count to 10 in spanish! Do they really think we're that stupid???Apparently,because then:
They whip out the Lone star card...Texas' answer to food stamps...and you notice: they are dressed nicer than you,they have nicer jewelery than you see in general...and if you manage to follow them out,you see they have a nicer car than you.Why can't I get one of these Lone star cards????
Because I report...uh...I mean make too much income to qualify...this is the point that I spontaneously combust and have to start the game over the next time I need to eat.
The united states is a country of cruel contradictions,for me and for the people that come here trying to better their lives and instead learn to resent and manipulate and get in my god damn way on the bread ailse.

Idle Hands Are the Devil's Tools
Apparently this is a belief held by my neighbor. I'm trying to do some work (freebie stuff, not paid) and it's really hard to concentrate with the various sounds of construction emanating not more than ten feet from my workspace. I'd like to reach out my window and slap the guy, but that wouldn't be very neighborly now, would it? This has been an ongoing, ever present experience for quite a few years (starting whenever it was that he decided to retire.) I didn't pay it much notice other than when it woke me up a bit early on the weekends until I moved my office to it's current room a couple of years ago. Words cannot describe how much I regret this decision. I don't think a single day has gone by in the last two years when SOMETHING noisy wasn't being done a stone's throw away from my computer. If it's not auto repairs or car washing/vacuuming, it's home improvement construction or expanding the driveway or chainsawing a tree or a new sewer line or some mystery project involving an air-compressor. I'm not sure what the solution is to this since he has the right to putter around to his hearts content, but damn is it ever annoying. Maybe I should get better windows? Lead lined walls? A fence might help, but I can't put up a fence because of right-of-way issues with the phone company. If I ever buy another house, you can bet I won't buy one in a zero lot-line neighborhood like this one. I think I'd prefer about 20 acres with my house right dab in the middle.

My take on the Unemployment Puzzle
Angry Bear has some interesting posts here and here. There is much speculation about why so many people in the US have given up looking for work and dropped out of the labor force. I think the reasons are varied, but I do agree that there's probably a lot of people going back to school. If I could afford the tuition and books that's the road I'd take in the hopes that by the time I got my degree, the job market would have improved and I'd have even greater earning potential. I can't bank on that hope enough to take out a student loan and the last thing we want right now is more debt. We managed by drastically cutting our expenses and consumer spending in order to get by on just one income which, as fate would have it, turned out to be the one that was substantially smaller of the two. Much to our surprise, we found that life was still good and in some respects, much better. I've worked at high-stress, long hour, salaried jobs since my early 20s. I never worked less than 50 hours a week and often put in over 100 hours a week. This wasn't the chore that it sounds since I've always liked my jobs and enjoyed most of the work (though there's always those few things that a person just hates to do.) However, after being unemployed for a year, my outlook has definitely changed. I have no intention of getting another high-stress, 50 plus hour a week job. The extra income, especially after taxes, is simply not worth it. I applaud those work-alcoholics who have picked up the extra work left behind in the wake of layoffs and attrition because I was once one of those people. I know how much effort, energy and sacrifice it can take when you absorb three other people's jobs in addition to your own and since you still have an income, you can reward yourself with that new HDTV. However, I don't think I can ever go back to that way of life.

Right Brain/Left Brain
Blue Witch got me to wondering if I was Right Brain or Left Brain. I found a test here which told me:

Your Brain Usage Profile

Auditory : 26%
Visual : 73%
Left : 50%
Right : 50%

Ann, you exhibit an even balance between left- and right- hemisphere dominance and a slight preference for visual over auditory processing. With a score this balanced, it is likely that you would have slightly different results each time you complete this self-assessment quiz.

You are a well-rounded person, distinctly individualistic and artistic, an active and multidimensional learner. At the same time, you are logical and disciplined, can operate well within an organization, and are sensitive towards others without losing objectivity. You are organized and goal-directed. Although a "thinking" individual, you "take in" entire situations readily and can act on intuition.

You sometimes tend to vacillate in your learning styles. Learning might take you longer than someone of equal intellect, but you will tend to be more thorough and retain the material longer than those other individuals. You will alternate between logic and impulse. This vacillation will not normally be intentional or deliberate, so you may experience anxiety in situations where you are not certain which aspect of yourself will be called on.

With a slight preference for visual processing, you tend to be encompassing in your perceptions, process along multidimensional paths and be active in your attacking of situations or learning.

Overall, you should feel content with your life and yourself. You are, perhaps, a little too critical of yourself -- and of others -- while maintaining an "openness" which tempers that tendency. Indecisiveness is a problem and your creativity may not be in keeping with your potential. Being a pragmatist, you downplay this aspect of yourself and focus on the more immediate, obvious and the more functional.

And I tried another one at E-Mode which said:

Ann, you are Balanced-brained

That means you are able to draw on the strengths of both the right and left hemispheres of your brain, depending upon a given situation.

When you need to explain a complicated process to someone, or plan a detailed vacation, the left hemisphere of your brain, which is responsible for your ability to solve problems logically, might kick in. But if you were critiquing an art opening or coming up with an original way to file papers, the right side of your brain, which is responsible for noticing subtle details in things, might take over.

While many people have clearly dominant left- or right-brained tendencies, you are able to draw on skills from both hemispheres of your brain. This rare combination makes you a very creative and flexible thinker.

The down side to being balanced-brained is that you may sometimes feel paralyzed by indecision when the two hemispheres of your brain are competing to solve a problem in their own unique ways.

"Sometimes paralyzed by indecision" is right on the money. When that happens I usually have to go do something else for a while and come back to the task later or better yet, "sleep on it".

Useless information in my head
This afternoon while on the way to Maudies restaurant we heard in interview on NPR with Richard Pollak who traveled aboard a cargo ship and then wrote a book about his experience. He mentioned Malcolm McLean, the man that revolutionized the shipping industry with cargo containers, as well as the subsequent loss of longshoremen jobs that resulted and I looked at Rob and said "I already know all of this because there was a strike on the West Coast a while back and... hell, how DO I already know all of this?" Well, it turns out the strike involved technological innovations and since IT was involved I must have picked up a link from somewhere and found it interesting enough to do a bit of research and the internet makes that so very easy to do at times. But I have to wonder why my brain decides to retain this kind of information, but discards other more important stuff. Is it simply because the filing system in my head is just as disorganized as the filing system in my office? And if I organized the filing system in my office would it help the filing system in my head?

Is it age or is it the beer?
Apparently my IQ is dropping as I get older or maybe it's the six pack of beer I've consumed but this is my result from the free test at E-mode:

Your IQ score is 133

Your Intellectual Type is Insightful Linguist. This means you are highly intelligent and have the natural fluency of a writer and the visual and spatial strengths of an artist. Those skills contribute to your creative and expressive mind. And that's just some of what we know about you from your test results.

I used to be able to score a 150 or greater on these tests without breaking a sweat. Back when I was in college, I made the mistake of taking the free test offered by the Dianetics folks and to this day, over 20 years later, my parents still get the occasional phone call or snail mail from them looking for me. Kinda spooky. Anyway, if I had the extra money, I think I would pay for the "IQ report" just to see where I'm slipping these days. Although that blurb about me having the natural fluency of a writer and the visual and spatial strengths of an artist makes me wonder if this is just a bunch of crap. Plus, I've been told I was a "genius" after many an IQ test (the first taken at age of five so I could get into first grade a year early) and I've never seen any signs of such "genius" emanating from my brain/body so I think the only thing this shows is that I was really good at taking tests in the past and I'm not as good at it now.

GO TO FULL METAL JACKASS
New stuff @ FMJA
Read the chronicles of a nightmare in the making.

Feeling Better
There's still a constant stream of liquid from my eyes, but it's slowed down to a trickle so I can actually read email and blogs now. I didn't realize how much I read on a daily basis until I suddenly couldn't see through the allergy muck. It was a challenge to find things to do these last four days. Laundry. I could do that. Dishes could be washed since I could feel if there was any food still stuck to the item. I suppose I could have watched TV, but I hate watching TV even when I can see worth a damn. So instead I took more than a few naps and sometimes I stared out the window at the blurry shapes that walked or drove by the house. I felt pretty lousy so it didn't matter that I couldn't find much to do because I didn't have the energy to do much of anything. Today has been better. I've started to catch up on my email and blog reading. I worked a bit on a website or two and when I was poking around an old website I found this:



That's from about eight years ago, but I look much the same now (without the hat; I believe the hat was eaten by a dog at some point.)

TATTOO CONVENTION???I'LL BE DAMNED!
There's a tattoo convention in town this weekend.I was going to go until I found out it was 15.00 to get in the door...I went to the one last year, and while I don't remember paying that much then, I figured seen one, seen 'em all. (read: I don't have the extra cash)
Ann and I were having brunch and these two women sitting across from us kept staring at me...I wondered if I had dribbled egg on my face or something...I stared back,and one of them finally spoke: "where did you get your tattoos?were they done locally?" . I answered yes and then they asked me about the convention...was I going?
They liked how bright my colors were...blah,blah,blah.
When they left a couple took their place at the table,more staring,more questions about the convention,some mutual bitching about it costing 15.00 and there isn't even a band...etc.
We finished brunch and left.Later at the grocery store,a guy that works for a distributing company I've talked to at this particular store before and the other one near our home engaged me in the same chat...then in line,another person asked who did my work and asked about the convention. Lots of people were staring...much more than usual(actually,usually it's not staring,just the hanging glance with the non spoken realization "oh yeah,this is austin...no big deal").
I have been tattooed for so long now,I don't really think about it much.Most of my friends are tattooed,and like I said, this is austin...almost everyone has tattoos. It's something we all take for granted.
I remember once,a LONG time ago,I went to a shopping mall in Piqua (sp?) ohio...I had no visible tats then,but I was wearing a Jesus Lizard T-shirt...the reactions I got were like I was walking around with my business hanging out waving it at the children passing by...over a T-shirt! It made me uncomfortable...I'm sure there were prayers for me at several dinner tables in central ohio that night.
What's the point?
Manners,for one...and tolerance...and acceptance.
And, as much as it sucks to be in this town some days...I'd rather be here than some place like Piqua,Ohio.


That's not excessive,is it? :P

Bad Poetry

Cedar Fever
Really sucks
If molds are high
I'm double fucked

That pretty much sums up the last few days.

IN WITH THE OLD,OUT WITH THE NEW...OR IS IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND?...IF THE DEMS KEEP IT UP IT WON'T BE.
you've got the other "democratic hopefuls" sniping at Dean the "frontrunner" who seems bound and determined to derail his campaign by saying something stupid everytime he's in front of a microphone.The latest being his statement about not using his wife as a "prop"...maybe he's sincere...I think the role of first lady is inflated and overrated,their involvement in the body politic is akin to my son being the batboy for my softball team years ago..."lets give Kyle a thrill and a team jersey" no harm in that.The only first ladies to really try to get involved in something meaningful were roundly criticized and in the case of Hillary,vilified,by the opposition and the media.
This is a shame...Dean's analogy of wives being props is either right on the money,or he's trying to hide something...either way-who gives a shit really? Get back on track...this country is spinning down the drain...what are you going to do about it???
I don't care which of you smoked pot,what moment you're embarrassed of or ashamed of in your careers,or how effectively you can undermine the competition in your own party.GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!This is not a high school debate club or a game of truth or dare in your cousins basement. You are supposed to be competent politicians,and so far,that's what I'm missing...competence...please...now before it's too late.
The republicans have the edge here...HUGE war chest,no in-party opposition and the american public by the short hairs,psychologically,emotionally,financially and the fact that the opposition is divided and acting like adolescents fighting over the next class president.
The GOP leaning voters are content to accept the lies and corruption and vote the party line...oh,I forgot,the GOP party line is ALL ABOUT lies and corruption...and even though these lies and corruption are published everywhere...they ignore it."they're making it up" and blindly embrace Bush and his pack of wolves as the party of opportunity.Back to wives for a second...Bush described Laura in a poem awhile back as the "lump in the bed" and nobody batted an eye. It was cute.CUTE???Come on! I'd rather be referred to as a "prop" any day than "the lump in the bed".
Why is she a "lump in the bed"? Small,limp penis I'm betting...anybody who acts like this idiot ("bring 'em on") is clearly lacking...and I'm guessing it's a small,limp one.
So...to sum up: which party is marginalizing the wives more?
Back to that party of opportunity statement...sure...the GOP is the party of opportunity...for people who have had opportunity handed to them on a silver platter.To them it doesn't matter if a sock puppet was in charge they would be ok...wait a minute-a sock puppet IS in charge and they ARE ok...I just proved my point.
Maybe that guy that sells "THE AMAZING STRAP WRENCH" on cable TV should run...at least we could look forward to that free 4 pound tub of OXYclean with every vote.
The dems need to rally around the front runner instead of trying to undermine him in favor of their own lame ass agendas before they cement the image of the democratic party as a party of eunuchs and ruin it for another 4 years...imagine another 4 years of Bush...I would just as soon burn off my extremities with an acetylene torch.

UNSOLICITED ADVICE/SUPPORT/COMMISERATION IS A BAD THING...
I was reading the blogs I read today and was touched by the latest post at BILLYSWORLD...seems that Bill's having a hard time these days. I wanted to comment,but his comments are turned off...a clear enough message.
BUT...being the person I am, I couldn't pass on the chance to pass on my words of wisdom.
And here they are: hang in there.
That's it.
What was written in that post resonated for me...we have a lot in common apparently,close to the same age (I'm a bit older-44),similar upbringing...free from molestation of any kind that wer'e aware of...I was a punk too:) ,of the american variety...more a Black Flag kind of punk than a sex pistols punk,but I think the cred crossed any boundary...a punk is a punk. Half my family is from Ingerland to boot.
I worked with children as well...for almost 20 years...but it was in treatment centers.
My job was to put them back together and keep them safe...I was good at what I did (this statement always reminds me of gang of four) and,after a regime change,I was forced out because the new boss couldn't see past my appearance...and there I was,unemployed,burnt out and single skilled...what the fuck was I gonna do now?
What CAN I do besides what I've been doing for the last 20 years?
Both of my parents were gone...so I couldn't go to them for guidance...that was probably the worst thing,the people who I had frequently taken for granted much of my life yet had always been there for me were gone...I was on my own.
Or so I thought...turns out they were still with me,I could imagine what they would of said...my value system had,after all, come from them.I still long to call them up and talk in real time...but I can remember them and what they were about...and that is a comfort to me.
After stumbling through a few bad fit jobs I found my footing and do something for a living I never dreamed of doing back when I was a lifer in the psych field.I miss those days,to be sure,but now it's a good miss and my biggest problem is sorting it all out for myself...those were crazy times and I would like to understand them.But the passing of time has blurred the memories or I have buried the ones too painful to recall.
When my mom told me to ruck up when she was alive, I did...and even now that she's been gone 12 years,I can still hear her telling me to ruck up...and I do,everytime.
Nobody else has permission to tell me that...except for Ann.

AAA-CHOOO!
I think the cold snap (cool snap for you folks in the north) has triggered a bit of cedar pollen or maybe it's the misty drizzle from the last few days bumping up the mold count. Either way, I'm considering spending my entire day in front of the computer with a large pot of coffee, a box of tissue, my under-desk heater and whatever allergy medication I can find in the medicine cabinet. I probably wouldn't call in sick if I had a real job, but I'm allergic to housework and I wouldn't want to make this any worse, eh?

The dogs are not favoring my plan and are being buttheads. They have gone outside and come right back in more times than I care to count and are apparently doing their morning piss in 5 second increments due to the cold. I keep hearing the "let me out or I'll piss on the floor bark" as opposed to the "let me out because I want to bark at the neighbors bark" or the "we need water in our water bowl bark" so I've been popping up and down like a jack-in-the-box. This last trip to let them out revealed coffee grounds scattered across the carpet in the front room. The coffee pot was intact so one of the dogs must have noticed that the trash can lid wasn't secure and took advantage of the situation. Sure enough, I caught Theo with the goods; a paper plate from last night's white trash dinner of Frito Pie. Most days I can leave the lid off the can completely and they behave themselves, but apparently the lure of Frito Pie was too great. I guess I will stuff some tissue up my nose and go clean up the mess which unfortunately involves my arch nemesis, the vacuum cleaner. If I survive, I may be back to post again later.

IT'S TIME YOU MET THE CHILDREN...
Besides my son (who was birthed by the sucubus) , there are 34 children living in the house of Ann and Rob.30 are turtles...most of them Box Turtles, currently living indoors for the winter...27 could hibernate outside for the winter,but I am such a bad parent,I did not have their outdoor pens ready for the winter.It is a logistical nightmare full off water tub rotations and anxiety...I have had these turtles for years...I love them,they love me...but more about that later.
This is about our dog children.
Let me present (clockwise and to the right), Theo,Irene and Sullivan:

They are all rescued dogs...Theo was adopted from our vet as a pup, Irene was rescued from my sons stepfathers ranch...originally intended to be my son's dog but you know how those things work out.Sullivan is the true hardcase of the bunch...never inoculated for parvo...caught it and was abandoned after the owner bailed on the bill to cure him,he lived in a vet cage for a couple of months until my vets staff saw me coming..."Hey!You like black dogs....."End of story,he was ours.
The pack order is as follows: I am the alpha male,Ann is the alpha female,Theo is currently the alpha male dog (every once and awhile he and sully get into a savage fight and switch places until the next fight...we have the blood splattered on the walls to prove it...these fights never occur when I'm around...in true dog fashion).Irene is the instigator of general mayhem and really the boss of the 2 boys...just like with us humans, women are in charge whether we like it or not.
We got a king sized bed recently...and when you come right down to it...it was so the pack could fit comfortably on it (all 5 of us).
Call me crazy...but these dogs love us unconditionally,and we them.
We are a pack of dogs...whether we know it or not.

Chez Rob
There are the "I can follow a recipe" kind of cooks and then there are the "I make up my own recipe" kind of cooks. Rob is that second kind of cook and last night's dinner is a good example. I'm sure if I had been the one fixing dinner last night we would have had something along the lines of fishsticks and mac-n-cheese. Rob, not being a big fan of school cafeteria food, had other plans. Here's what he came up with (he made this up, it didn't come from a cook book) - read it and drool...

Salad:
Baby spinach,arugala and carrots
4oz. cocktail shrimp
Garlic and herb croutons
Garlic italian dressing
Toss

Entree:
Thin sliced roast beef
shredded potatoes
shredded swiss cheese

Pan fry potatoes
Overlap 2 slices of beef (about an inch overlap),cover with a layer of cheese
put a layer of fried potatoes on top of cheese
Roll it up...microwave for 90 seconds in a pyrex (or other micro safe dish)

Sauce:
Chipolte cream sauce (packaged by wagner,I think)
sauce mix whisked with one cup non fat milk,a tablespoon of butter and a smidge of black pepper...bring to a boil,turn it off...whisk in another tablespoon of NF milk.
Drizzle over beef before serving

I had too much to dream last night... (only old farts like me will recognize the song reference)
I had one of those dreams last night, the kind that mean something. Well, they probably all mean something, but there are those dreams where you wake up knowing it means something and realize you could probably figure it out if you just thought about it for a few minutes and then there are those dreams like this one where you realize what it all means while you are still dreaming and hope you can remember it when you wake up. Even though I know what it all meant, it would be too hard to explain the underlying meaning to someone who doesn't know me very well, but I figured I'd post the dream since some of the elements came from the land of blog.

This dream starts with me speeding down through a tunnel on my motorcycle. The reason I'm speeding down a tunnel on a motorcycle is because I'm being chased by some famous woman who is only famous in the dream, not in real life - never seen this person before that I'm aware of. This woman is shooting at me and one bullet ricochets off the tunnel wall and hits me just below my right ear. I reach up and feel the wound and think "Ah, just a .22 ricochet entry with no exit wound, I haven't fallen off my bike yet and I'm really far too busy getting away from this crazy bitch to worry about it now." I manage to lose her and get to where I'm going.

The place I was going turns out to be the place that I work (in the dream) which is an office located in a shopping mall. In real life I absolutely hate shopping malls and dreaming about working in an office located in a shopping mall has been a recurring theme for the last 15 years or so. It so neatly sums up everything I hate about coworkers, corporations and meaningless work. But back to the dream... I make it into the office and my coworkers are concerned that I've been shot, but this was apparently just a small part of a major attack on the city and they are more freaked out about that. Think along the lines of the famous woman being a part of some evil crime ring bent on destroying the city. Think Comic Books.

I find that my coworkers are handling this crisis in one of three ways; either crying and wringing their hands, pushing papers around like there's no tomorrow... well, in the dream they WERE at the point of no tomorrow... or trying on clothes and shopping like mad. No one seemed to have the sense to do practical things like lock the doors, find some guns (surely some of the store owners had guns?) or call the police, the army or SOMEONE to help (Spiderman would have been appropriate, but his name didn't come up.) I'm resting on a couch wondering how I'm going to get to the hospital or a doctor with the city under attack and I come the realization that my coworkers are all completely useless and I'm going to have to get off my ass and be the one to do all that practical stuff.

So I start looking for the guns and I start organizing people into some sort of a defense. Then the music soundtrack (my dreams always have a soundtrack) starts playing "Bullet in the Head" by Rage Against the Machine and I make the connection between the "famous" woman who shot me, the song lyrics, the bullet in my head and the fact that I'm trying to organize a shopping mall full of idiots.

I reach up and feel the point of the bullet (apparently still intact) poking at the skin on the left side of my neck and think "this is going to be easy to get rid of". I walk out of the shopping mall and ride off on my motorcycle into the sunset leaving my coworkers and the rest of the city to figure out on their own how to deal with their impending doom and destruction.

If you're curious as to what it all meant, the lyrics to the song might help explain it. You can find these on the web pretty easily, but all the sites I found have annoying pop-ups and/or ads so I won't post a link here. If enough people are curious, I might try and post an explanation later.

The elements that came from the land of blog are motorcycle (just the motorcycle, not the chase/shooting part) courtesy of Blue Witch, the comic book twist from billy, the idiot coworkers from Essay and the "guns and defense" from Rob here at Depthmarker. Apparently blogs are now worming their way into my dreams. And heck, why not? Happens all the time with books and movies.

THIS IS THE KIND OF SHIT THAT MAKES YOU FEEL OLD...
I'm in the check out line at my neighborhood grocery and all of a sudden I hear over the piped in music "Talk about the passion" by REM.Fucking REM on the muzak roster at a grocery store!!! I couldn't believe it,but there it was...one of my favorite bands (until they spewed up orange and damn near everything after that) from my youth,whose memory, apparently,has been relegated to interruptions for a clean up on isle 5.Geez.....The next thing you know Led Zeppelin will be hawking cadillacs...oh wait a minute...
I am well aware that every generations calling card is subjugated to a cartoon of what it once was eventually,but I'm not ready for my memories to be trivialized just yet...oh well...time marches on I guess.( I'm betting I won't hear any Jesus Lizard at the local grocery anytime soon,and with that I find some solace...at least the ID of my youth will be avoided by the masses).

I have some new year resolutions:
To continue on my path to a thinner, healthier me.
I have tried many times to sit down and chronicle my experiences in the psych field without success...I think because I've tried to tackle it all at once and that's just too much...so,I resolve to record those memories,as they occur to me and the fancy strikes at FULL METAL JACKASS,directing people from here.
To start playing guitar and writing again.
To get ahead,out of debt..blahblahblah.
Time to make dinner....

I HAD THE STRANGEST DREAM...
I was outside at night,with some people I knew...not really people I knew when I was
awake,but people you know in that non descript dream sort of way.
It was raining to the point of flooding and we were along a river,on one side was a retaining wall and the residential area,on the other woods and rock overhangs...this is the side we were on.
In the pools and puddles were glowing things...of all shapes and sizes.Glowing green and pulsating...some in the shapes of wagon wheels others like giant scallops...still others in the shape of sea cucumbers and loofas. They were growing and morphing...changing shape.
On the other side of the river they had morphed into somewhat human form,all conjoined and undulating in a frantic rhtymn...until breaking off from the mass and running off into the darkness.
We were desperately trying to find our way to the other side...to the guns...I remember that distinctly,we needed to get to the guns. Something was horribly wrong ...there was something in the rain...these beings were trying to get to our side,to us...they were terrifying...fast and gelatinous,with crazy faces and sharp teeth...we had to get to the guns...not in some panicked sort of desperate way,but in a way that inferred we knew what we were doing and the guns were a solution,not a desperate measure.
We had reached the final crossing,flooded with water and these pulsating green glowing orthopods everywhere...no sound but the driving rain and thunder.How to get across?To get to the guns...
Then I woke up to Sullivan licking my hand.
I watch too many horror / war movies I think.