Wednesday, March 31, 2004

the tax man cometh...

Yes, that's right, the tax man cometh and his name is Bubba. Bubba carries a big shiny machete and chews 'baccer. He's gonna cut our heads off and spit down our throats while he laughs at old re-runs of Hee-Haw and Dukes of Hazzard. *sigh* We haven't done our taxes yet. Why? Well, for starters, we have no money and really, why prolong the agony? One quick cut is how I prefer to be slaughtered. We'll probably do them Friday night. Without children, you pay, you pay, you pay. It doesn't matter how little you pay. No amount of philanthropy or itemization has ever helped us. We have the max taken out of our checks. *cheerfully whistling* Whatever. La, la, la, la, la. Denial, denial, denial. Next subject.

I get to see one of my two great mentors tomorrow after work. She is a medical psychologist who works with people living with HIV/AIDS and she agreed to be interviewed for a little research paper I'm doing. Her son died of AIDS several years ago, so she knows the anguish of AIDS up close. By turning her own wounds into a wellspring of compassion, she has become an invaluable advocate and really puts her heart into caring for those who are struggling with the disease. I've always admired her ability to part the seas of bureaucratic bullshit and return her focus to the important work at hand. It's good to have people like that in your life who are brave and strong enough to walk the path the way it should be walked. She's not perfect, but you can usually count on her to have her priorities in order.

Tonight I have class, BUT I vow to NOT put money in the snack or Coke machines. The social work building has the most notorious money-eating snack machines in the known universe. Tonight, I rebel!

from the mail e-bag...

Finally, someone to pick on other than poor old Tennessee...

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

whining, seque exploitation, pretend shopping and corporate poop...

Yesterday I emailed my resume off for a field placement. *sputter* I dread this. Not because of the experience, but because of the hours. If you missed the earlier whining, I'll be working full-time at my current job (of which I have come to detest all 40 hours) and then go to another job (social work field placement) for 16 hours a week. I'll have to change my 9am to 5pm existence to work 7am - 3pm; then leave for the other job until ??pm. We simply are too broke for me to go part-time so I can do my internship. I don't think DH thinks I can do it. I think I CAN do it. I just think I'll be miserable and bitchy for an entire year. I think old farts CAN learn new tricks. Other than never getting to see DH, the thing that upsets me the most is that I won't be able to spend time with my pets. They are all getting a lot older and time is more precious with them than before. I'll also have no time for artistic endeavors. Anyway, that's all I gotta say about all that. The time draws near.

(pretend there's a segue here...) It gently rained all night and it was warm enough to keep the windows open. Ah, that makes for a snuggly buggly sleep. (pretend there's another segue here...)

I know you are dying to know how the poor shop. Well, I did a scientific study of one and I have the statistically significant answer: They "pretend shop." I (not that I was the said statistically significant sample) shop all the time, I just don't ever get to hit the "submit" button. I have pretended to buy a virtual plethora of wool, cotton, knitting books, patterns and art books. I just don't get to hit "submit." Damn it, I want to hit "submit"!!! Seeing Elann's deals twice a week is causing me to break out in yarn-deprivation-acne. *Don't look, just go to your stash. Just GO to your stash. DO NOT hit submit. Do NOT click that button!* Perhaps being deprived of new things will force me to finish old things. See, there IS a bright side! But I do have one small purchase to make this payday and I can't wait to make it. I'll let you know when I do, because it's really, super-duper neat. No, really it is.

(forget the segue, just get over it and keep reading...) Have a great day. I have to get back to editing and writing corporate fluff and participating in rancid demagoguery. Not that I have a negative attitude about it...(the ellipses should be enough of a segue for you, sheesh!)

Just overheard: I just heard someone come in for a meeting and the person organizing the meeting said, "Come on in, drop your load." Heh, they should have said that to ME. Because I would have. *smirk*

(to hell with segues)

I swear, I'm normally a nice person. I swear. Honest!

Sunday, March 28, 2004

the phlox is here! the phlox is here!

Yes, ah, the phlox is here! I really love it when the phlox blooms in the front yard. You can see my favorite color is purple from the photo! As many flowers and plants that I kill, I still love them all when they survive my horrible gardening skills and bloom anyway! We have a round bed edged with stone that surrounds a little Cousa dogwood in our front yard. For some reason, once the phlox blooms, I go immediately into Spring Fever Stupor. It's just wonderful and cheerful.

I cleaned out the herb garden today, too, which is always a fragrant treat and also cleaned the, a-hem, "rose garden," in which I have killed two of six bushes in one year. I should say three, but I saw one lone sprout trying to survive. Anyway, it was a bright and sunny weekend--just what I needed. Beers on the patio; college baseball less than two miles away for cheap. And Baxter seems to be feeling better. All in all, it was a good weekend. I hope your weekend was good, too!
Update: Phlox loves full sun, is drought-tolerant, creeps over the ground at a rapid rate, can be propagated easily by plugging and looks great in rock gardens and drapes elegantly over garden walls. (Basically, it can stand my retarded gardening skills.)

Friday, March 26, 2004

why, it IS sunny outside...

We're expecting a beautiful and unseasonably warm weekend. Yippee! Grayson (yawning to the left) says he's really tired and is happy the weekend is here. I second that one! Have a wonderful weekend, all.

thanks y'all...

Blogging is so weird. All the comments I got on yesterday's post really lifted me up. It's nice to know you are not alone. It's nice to know there are really wonderful people out there. I've been in sort-of a rotten place this week and you guys actually helped me keep my chin up. How weird is that? Strange or not, I thank you for your kindness and support. You left me "ver-klempt" amongst yourselves... *sniff*

Thursday, March 25, 2004

is it sunny outside?

Ok, so I was a wee bit negative yesterday. Things were, quite frankly, shitty. Sorry for the spew. For those of you who do not take copious notes from this silly little blog, I'll recap why we are so destitute. Let's review it mathmatically, shall we?

Stage One: great paying job but psycho-boss + pretty good paying job=easy lifestyle and lots of shopping
Stage Two: unemployment for a year + pretty good paying job=trying to pay two-income sized bills with two-thirds less money
Stage Three: crappy paying job and another psycho boss + pretty good paying job=resources exhausted; paying bills rough
Stage Four: great job with great boss, but 2 year training period during which hardly any pay comes in + pretty good paying job=resources still spent; impossible to pay all bills; much gnashing of teeth.

We are halfway through stage four. One more year of gnashing teeth, eating grubs and bark from the yard to survive. Once hubby's training/assistantship is over, things will be much better, but it's getting there that's hard.

My little spinning wheel is keeping me sane at the moment. Spinning is one of the most relaxing things in the world to me. Even more relaxing than knitting. I'm still creatively constipated, but I ain't gonna give up.

In Kitty World, Baxter's thyroid test came back "high normal" once again. So, we can't put him on meds for hyperthyroidism just yet. He's so skinny it breaks my heart...he used to be such a fat monster cat. We have to take him back next month for more bloodwork to monitor his thyroid. He seems to be feeling good though. We continue to cram those vitamins and antibiotics down his throat every night before we go to bed and it's helping him. He stays pissed for about three hours and then goes back to sleeping across my head about 2 a.m. And thanks to Banana Flip for sharing the mysteries of the Cat Brain.

Man, I wish I had some money, because Elann has some dead sexy cotton on sale. Argh. Me want. Me can't have.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

thinking bad thoughts...

I am a little black cloud today. I do not have the money to pay my bills. I am sick of school. I hate my job. I never see my husband because he works so much. I am so stressed over money all the time that I can't enjoy one moment, but I don't have the energy to make stuff to sell because I'm so crapped out. I can only knit/spin/felt what is in my stash (which I am trying to protect with my life) and occasionally I'll sneak and buy a knitting book, but other than that it's necessities only. And when one of the animals has a problem, I can't squeak by. I went from being a shop-a-holic to no-shopping-ever. I have to go to class tonight and I just don't care at the moment. Tomorrow will be better, but today I am feeling angry, negative, tired and disappointed. I think that should cover it. Aren't you glad you stopped by? Sorry you just stepped in my mental dog poop.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

I have been doing something...

I have been spinning up this Wensleydale (I think I spelled that right--too lazy to check) in a heavy worsted style single. And I have also been obsessively making stupid coin pouches for no good reason. Why? Yes, indeed, why. I just had all these spinning and dyeing experiments laying around and nothing to do with them. They were too scratchy to be against the skin, too few yards to really make an accessory I hell, all I have is pennies...why not make a bunch of pouches to hold them?

$157 later...

I picked up Baxter yesterday after work and came home with three medications, a groggy cat and a burgeoning mental list of things I could sell on Ebay to replace the $157 I just forked over. I brought a can of soup in today for lunch (and some delicious knitting).

Baxter's blood test for liver and kidney function was fine, but I'm still waiting to hear back on the thyroid panel. Otherwise, his little abcess was the reason for the medicine. I have to place medicine INSIDE the abcess twice a day, give him a full dropper of stinky vitamins and a full dropper of antibiotics--both once a day. Let's just say it takes more than one person. Surprisingly, he doesn't even flinch when I fill the abcess with medicine, but he cries when I give him the droppers. Deaf cat yowls seem more pitiful for some reason. The abcess is only about the size of a match head if you are wondering. It's merely an open place in his skin like a burst boil. *hurl, hurl* I know it's gross. Of course, darling hubby, let Baxter sit on the sheets after being medicated and now there's medicated butt goo all over my side of the sheets below my pillow. Get thee to a washer!

Now I'm paranoid the other cats have ass problems and I've taken to inspecting all their little buttholes. Rooney has tight little pink pucker that is rarely dirty; Grayson a larger, furrier pucker, but with frequent remnants of dingleberries and Atticus has a tanish, medium-sized pucker with only occasional crusties on the periphery. And that, my friends, is a description of all my kitties' assholes. When inspecting cat butt is the most important thing you do during the day, you gotta question your direction in life...

Monday, March 22, 2004

8.6 pounds...

That's what poor Baxter's weight has gotten down to. And his little anus abcess has opened up's small, but hardly something to ignore. I think he must have a little cyst or something that gets reinfected. Anyway, he has lost more than half of his body weight over the last three years, with the last year being the fastest weight loss (thus the worry). He acts healthier than ever though, which is what throws me. He plays more than when he was so fat and is twice as annoying at night, stomping back and forth across our heads and weirdly yowling at passing dust particles (like deaf cats do). He also has a very strange habit of parking himself exactly between our eyeballs and the television when we are in bed. It's the only place he will stand if the television is on. He just stands there, staring into space, slowly swishing his tail, as if to say, "Look at me, God of Cats. Why would thou be interested in electronic drivel when you can revel in my utter magnificence?" The only way you can ever see the TV is if you hug him like a teddy bear to your chest, which if he can't stand up and swish his tail, is the next best thing.

We did go see a matinee Saturday. Guess what we saw? That's right: SECRET WINDOW. It was good, even though somewhat predictable (except for the ending, which had all the makings of a predictable ending, but resisted the temptation), and the Deppster, was well, the Deppster--strange, intriguing and sinfully cute. The predictability was not a problem in this movie because it was not so much about giving you a surprise, but a study of demise. Hey, that rhymed. Does that make me an accidental poet? Uh..............

Oh, and I had wanted to go see this felt/textile artist appearing in Atlanta over the weekend, but alas, I could not pull any money from my ass...what!? another rhyme? Is God trying to tell me something?!!! Wow, I am just awestruck by this strange coincidence. *snort*

And, it's Monday. I don't want to talk about it.

Friday, March 19, 2004

how much is too much?

My hubby comes from a family that is constantly in one other's business and quite frankly they probably know what I do on a day-to-day basis. I come from a family who hardly ever gets together and talks on the phone a couple of times a month (sometimes once or twice a week at the most if my mom is in town). I feel suffocated. He can't figure out why I don't want to make weekly plans with his family. Something is always cropping up and they are on the phone multiple times a day--everyday.

How much is too much for you?

Update: We did have dinner and, just to make a fool of me, we had a great time. It's hard being a curmudgeon.

happy, happy Friday...
Oh, I'm just sitting here calmly, but inside I am doing a very happy dance that today is Friday. I'm feeling a lot better, too--just in time for a sunny Spring-like weekend (I hope). I am really hoping I can get some creative juices flowing this weekend--I've been creatively constipated way too long.

Baxter is going for his repeat bloodwork on Monday. I'll bet we find that he needs medication for hyperthryroidism. He also has one of his mystery abcesses on his rear that needs to be looked at. I don't know where those things come from, but we always take him to get it looked at and usually put him on antibiotics just in case. It's one his many bizarre unexplainable health problems. He's happy and active for a 13 year-old cat. Go figure. We worry about him everyday, thinking he's going to croak, but he just keeps hanging out, happy as can be. He had feline leukemia when we got him and the vet put him on this strange Buffer*n therapy that worked somehow. Giving Baxter a pill is truly like WWIII, so I'm surprised he got medicated at all.

Here's to happy cats, Friday, and the exit of all things reminscent of mucous.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

multi-tasking with snot, part deux...

Well, fortunately I didn't sneeze and fart last night. I just annoyed the living hell out of everyone by continually rearranging my stockpile of mucous through coughing and snorting. Occasionally I would let out a croaking moan for good measure. We got our mid-terms back and I was pissed that I only made an 87. Shit, that blows. This class is not in my area of interest and I think it shows a little. I need to pull that grade up though. *grimace* Two viruses in the first quarter of the year--unheard of. I think it's stress over money and all the other difficulties we've been facing lately.

But I DO feel a little better today. Unfortunately, clients are barking about their jobs not being done (not you, L). Graphics can't get them done any sooner because they are swamped. I am in the middle of the mess trying to tell clients I cannot pull these things out of my ass no matter how far I reach up my colon. I'm almost glad I'll be stuck in a studio for most of the day shooting intros for a project. Gah, I am eternally grateful for being employed, but the enjoyment stops there.

Have a happy Thursday everyone. Friday is on its way.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

multi-tasking with snot...

Ah, there's nothing better than multi-tasking with a bad cold. Not only can I blow snot from my nose, but from my tear ducts as well. Gosh, it's great feeling to be so talented. Why I came into work I'll never know because I can hardly string a sentence together. Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down. There's the level I'm operating at. And, oh boy, I get to go to school tonight, too, where I'll hack, sneeze, blow my nose and talk like a diseased frog for three hours. I can't wait. But I can't disappoint my public because my public loves me. *snort* Just think, if I sneeze hard enough, I might also accidentally fart--something that could send the entire classroom into a psychological tailspin. What a social experiment that might be...would they laugh? Would they say nothing, but privately snicker? Would they feel sorry for me or crinkle their noses in disgust? What if I got tickled and started to laugh so hard myself that I continued to fart uncontrollably?

Can you tell my expectations are pretty low for the day?

It could be far worse. Where's the escape button on this ride?

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

well, so much for tact...

Usually I am a very tactful person with other people, but every once in a while I botch up communication so badly I want to crawl into a hole. Yesterday, I expressed a concern to my husband with the tact of a Neanderthal, maybe even a retarded Neanderthal. Then, the rest of the day was spent rinsing and repeating---"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

(Note to self: Diarrhea of the mouth is a BAD thing.)

Speaking of mouths, we tried a new toothpaste called "Extreme Clean." Hay-Suess, it tastes like 10 year-old Christmas candy and bile (mostly bile). I literally gag when I brush my tongue. What the hell were they going for with that "flavor?" Now with the fresh flavor of rancid gastric juices! It was so expensive, we have to use it---but one tube will do me for a lifetime. Blech!!! Paaatoooooie!

Link of the day: Pop Cult Magazine.

Monday, March 15, 2004

it is soooooooo Monday...

I'm starting off the week with a nice chest cold, which is not such a big deal, except it's making me a tad cranky. You should not be pushy with me when I've been afflicted with the Creeping Crud. I sound like I have TB--perhaps that accounts for the lack of visitors to my office this morning.

I'm cramming down a Subway veggie sandwich whilst I type during the last few minutes of my lunch break. I spent most of my lunch puttering around in my car listening to music and fantasizing about driving right past the airport and not coming back. Well, to work that is. Damn insurance. That and the fact I haven't had the oil changed in my car in so long that I would soon be stranded. Yes, it's on my to-do list come payday.

What? Did you hear that? Little faeries are whispering "Secret Window" into my ear. It got two thumbs up so I don't feel so bad dragging hubby to the theater so I can stare at Johnny Depp for TWO SOLID NON-STOP HOURS. I am not much for "stars," (they take big stinky craps like everyone else) except for the Deppster. What is it about that silly twerp?

Well, more later, I am swamped today. Bah. *cough, wheeze, cough*

p.s. And just in case you missed it, "Lucky Me, I hit the trifecta." Link spirited from The Dust Congress.

Sunday, March 14, 2004

where is my plate?

Click for full view.
When we have dinner at our old antique (and rickety) dining room table, Atticus runs in and takes his place as if he were an esteemed guest. He watches us eat while giving us his famous "I scold you!" meow. It sounds like "mahhhtt." If he's not scolding, he's giving us his equally famous evil eye. From time to time he'll test the waters by putting his paw on the table but takes it back when I tell him "no! off!"
In other news, how did I miss the Dandy Warhols? Me likey. Me likey a lot.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

doggy, I wuv ooooo...

Sadie and Pickles have been restored on Dogster...go see...links on the left. Be our friend?

it's different...

Terrorism used to be something so far away--something that happened in countries of unrest, political upheaval...
Now it seems when I read about a tragedy like the one in Madrid it takes hold of me in a brand new way. It's a bad feeling of being included in the world.

I'm so happy tomorrow is Friday I could just pee in my pants.

Mush, mush, forward...

p.s. It is SO UNFAIR to be broke when Waterspun Weekend and Follies (a perfect match for all my Mags Kandis pattern booklets) is at Elann. Not fair at all. Not fair. Not fair. Not fair. *pout*

Wednesday, March 10, 2004


I kind of feel guilty laughing so hard at Dooce's stories. I feel sorry for her at the same time I can't help but roll all over the floor giggling like Sadie does when she finds a really stinky dead bug.

Poo. All my Dogster information up and disappeared. What's the deal? Now I'll have to enter it in all over again. Bah.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

how about that?

I don't feel like complaining today. What's up with that? Go figure. Last night I finally tried my Winsor Pilates DVD I bought recently out of sheer desperation. I really like it and I felt great immediately afterward and even today. My back feels good especially. Hubby tried it too--I've never heard so much grunting, moaning and "yeah, right!" as he watched the super-toned Pilates instructors wrap their legs up in Celtic knots. Hubby isn't the most flexible guy in the world. Lucky for him, there's the gal doing the "modified exercises" in the background...but I'd say this program will stretch him out in no time. Anyway, it has my endorsement, so what else could you possibly need? It's even doable with my super skinny budget. Thanks and general accolades go to Put Down the Donut for pointing it out.

Monday, March 08, 2004

fun on the farm...

Hungry Camels


Uh, excuse us...

Sweet Wallaby

Is he trying to tell me something?


We went to an exotic petting zoo on Saturday. It was a blast, although the vegetarian in me was inspecting the grounds pretty carefully to see if the animals were properly cared for. I felt a twinge of guilt having so much fun with captive animals that belonged in the wild.

Anyway. We hand-fed camels, goats, zonkeys, donkeys, zebras, miniature horses, guanacos and played with wallabys and watched prairie dogs, peacocks, reindeer and saw in person just how large Anatolian Shepherd livestock guard dogs really are. The camels decided to mate right after we gave them some feed--that was interesting. The female was really vocal and made some sounds that were very Chewbacca-like--except A LOT louder. Of course, my husband wanted his picture taken standing in front of the whole thing. Men.

Well, it looks like I will be starting my field placement in social work this summer, not fall. We "extended" students (part-timers) have to do field placement year-round because we work 16 hours a week instead of 20 like the full-time students have to.

I am hoping to work at a place that's close to my full-time job. This center is mostly addiction treatment, although dual diagnosis is usually the rule with that work. I think A&D could be interesting. I don't have any experience in that area, so I think I could really learn a lot--could be a real eye-opener. I am trying to do some calculating to see if I could possibly work "heavy part-time" (30 hours or so) at my current job, so I could survive working two jobs. My boss is being so flexible and helpful it's amazing. I think I could get my job done in a 30 hour week with no problem...then I'd only be working a total of 46 or so hours a week, which is really no big deal. The question is, can I afford to drop 10 paid hours a week? I don't know yet. If I can't afford to do that, I'll have to come in super early so I can get off in time to work at an agency in the late afternoon/evening. Not being one of those rabid-high energy type people, I fear that option. But we'll see. I have to get my abacus out and do some high-falutin' figgerin'.

I cut my hair last night. I don't know how to cut hair. I just thought, "how hard could it be to just cut about four inches off around the whole bottom?" It's still long, but I haven't had it cut in a year, so there's were some really dry ends to get rid of. Actually, it looks fine. My hairdresser would die. I just don't want to spend money on stuff like that right now. I'm already way over budget from hubby's birthday celebration.

I crocheted a bulky wool scarf last night and I've already decided to rip it back out. I've been total knitting spaz lately. I did get a customer's hat resized last night. It took me so long though that I'm sending her a shibori-dyed scarf in her package for free. I'm sure she'll think that's excessive, but I hate that I didn't get it back to her sooner.

And can I say that drinking Red B*ll actually works? I rolled my eyes repeatedly over such a drink, refusing to try it for more than a year, then my husband brought it home one day and I'll be damned, if the little elixir doesn't work. Maybe it's akin to chewing on a raw sugar cane, but I sure do get a little energy buzz off of the stuff. And I was even more shocked to discover I love the taste. I've been hoodwinked by a devilish marketing ploy...

I have been informed that pics of the petting zoo will arrive in my email this afternoon. I hope I can share them--I wasn't wearing a stitch of make-up and had been walking around in a muddy field before we decided to drive up there...

Friday, March 05, 2004

Happy Birthday!

Today's is hubby's 41st! I couldn't resist this old's so funny. Of course, I altered it a bit. The cats expressed their love for him by throwing up directly on his favorite pair of Levi's. At least they took the time to make something for him. There's nothing like Kitty Casserole for breakfast...

Thursday, March 04, 2004

Welcome to the RTB tailgate party!!

Welcome to the RTB tailgate party, where I am in charge of misinterpreting, no, no...INTERPRETING the finest postings the RTB bloggers have to offer. If you thought I was going to rhyme this whole thing, well, you're downright crazy (I mean that in the friendliest way possible).

One note of caution: I do have a quirk or two, so in complete understanding of possible grievances against the following summaries, I would like to offer a complaint email. If you find yourself violated, offended or in general dissatisfied with the job I've done here, please email me at I have a special folder set up for these emails, so you can be assured that I will respond immediately. Cheers and---ah, just pass the whisky bottle.

Anyway, read on, because you can't get any more diversity in one big honkin' post than this!

Smijer takes the notion to present some thoughts on critical thinking and shows us the way
and the light toward what's supposed to be grey and what's really just black and white.

Manish over at Damn Foreigner repeatedly tells Nader to stay out of the race and makes note of the yammering political types who have spines of Jell-O.

Peggy at Moveable Beast tells us a story of tried and true love. Her gay little kitties united by the great catnip gods are just the thing to remind us the most important aspect of marriage is LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. Meow.

Thomas of the Newsrack Blog speaks candidly about claims of the Slobodan Milosevic trial collapsing.

Sue stands in for CJ at Up for Anything and provides us with a handy mathematical equation we can all use in support for suing the Senate.

Stoney over at Rebel Yell gives us a clear sociological assessment of the land of charming and not-so-charming oddities--the American mall.

At the Castle, Queen MedB sets a place at the table for a cat-loving possum who looks like he's recently visted the hairdresser.

Fletch over at A Smoky Mountain Journal unfurls his insider's view on the North Shore Road planning process and calls attention to a not-so-democratic process that may be followed--despite public opinion on route choices that may do significant damage to our beloved Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Granny Rant has found coal in everyone's stocking, but in 20 years we may not need stockings. Or perhaps we could just snip them up and fashion some snazzy-looking respirators. Granny has also been kind enough to introduce us to an amazing creation of natural evolution--the talking dog! Take him for a walk--he needs company.

According to our illustrious leader, South Knox Bubba, ain't nothin' wrong with using good old fashioned paper so they can't freakin' mess it up.

At Second-Day Lede, a spin-off from the famous Dagley Dagley Daily, the majority rules idea gets a thorough lashing from well--reality.

Barry, over at Last Home takes a look at what Kerry and Bush don't quite understand about a Christian God. He points to good ole' Honest Abe for the clear perspective.

Guy Montag doesn't want a ring from the Feds or the State and gives old Maxine a bust in the chops Powell-style. All that while he stares at himself in his sparkling shoes.

At the Conservative Zone, there's more than a battle being fought, there's a good bit of honesty, courage and heart--something we could all use a little more of. On the lighter side, you might want a rescue dog around if you're going to work on a team with the guy.

Gun-totin' SayUncle has a thing or two to say about the IQs of gun control yahoos and welcomes a new writer to the blog. He's into the group thing (get your minds out of the gutter!).

If your a hillbilly, you'd better rush on over to Wandering Hillbilly's new Hillbilly Dictionary--the most authoritative tool for translating even the most challenging backwoods-bonics to regular old English. Why, you can even earn a valuable scholarship by contributing to the landmark work.

Voluntarily in China gives us a unique peek at political cartooning in China. He also hopes his blog doesn't get SHUT DOWN.

Aaron over at The Golden Calf is pretty sure Jesus isn't a democrat and somehow wound up at the Jesse Helms Center for Right Wing Propagandation and Intolerable Indoctrination. Hmm.

Aunty Goob at Goobage offers "Captive Customers," and gives us the low-down on those nasty automobile companies doing nasty things to get nastier money to do the nastiest things to their employees. Nasty. Or as Aunty says, "an exploration of differences in pension plans, business vs. government," which makes a helluvalot more sense than what I said.

Chris at My Quiet Life is simply on the verge of poking his eyes out over the misunderstanding of well...everything about The Truly Disadvantaged.

New addition to the RTB, Doug McDaniel, ponders the real meaning of solomizing same-sex marriages. Pass the mayo--for the sandwich, stupid. I'm not going to tell you again to get your mind out the of the gutter.

Big Stupid Tommy isn't stupid at all, and proves it to us in his insightful analysis of Leap Year trivia, hard cold formulas for determining the requisite amount of excitement the 29th really deserves, and a tip for the best Leap Year Feast ever--Hamster Stew. To share the love, scroll down to the subhead "February 29."

Does Anthony Pellicano Have Incriminating Tapes of Michael Jackson? That's the question Les Jones is trying answer as he dusts for fingerprints in this developing "thriller" series.

So, there you have it. Salami? Hamster stew? Not me, I'm a vegetarian. Enjoy your day and appreciate one another's diversity. I send you all off into the vast desert of contemplation with a flask full of finely aged wine and fresh fruit. Or something like that. Thanks for letting me host, I think.

Wednesday, March 03, 2004


Six straight hours of typing furiously last night to finish my mid-term essays. Nothing but typing furiously at work today. My fingers are numb!

noted, filed, secured...

I declare Crisis #h7b-125 over. Filed. Why? Because I say so, and because I'm just sick of recycling the same pile of garbage over and over. It's my blog and I can "wah, wah" if I want to, but there's a point where I can "wah, wah" no more. And this is it. No more "wah, wah." Die "wah, wah," die!

I'm sure I'll "wah, wah" again, but we'll open a new case file and recycle a completely different batch of refuse for that one.

Back to being ridiculously idealistic! Hand me my rose-colored-glasses because I can't see shit without them (actually I would prefer purple, but I didn't make up the expression).

Disclaimer: Closing of Crisis file #h7b-125 may or may not preclude various platitudes regarding naturally occurring premenstrual states, violation of intrinsic values by other human subjects or general dissatisfaction with current employment (one which has been previously established as an ill-fitting career for said subject referred to herein as "Hatamaran,") and acts of God which can neither be defined nor ascertained by any ensuing legal authority such as those referred to within Crisis file identified under the official code #h7b-125, which is now closed to the public.

In other words, I'm stayin' in school, fool.

p.s. If you've never read Coming of Age in Mississippi by Anne Moody, you should run, not walk, to your local bookstore. It should be required reading of every American, period. If you'd like to read about the 60's Civil Rights movement from the inside-out, then this is the memoir to read. I never remember to tell people about this book. Today I finally remembered.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

cinnamon gravy...

That's Old Prospector language (buy the best of Will Farrell if you're confused). Oh, Peaches! I'm still writing my freakin' case study/essay/stinkin' mid-term/going-on-forever test thing that's due tomorrow. Bah...back to typing.

casserole of the gods...

You know, you guys made me feel better, or at least not alone in my indecisive misery. Hey, that's worth something, isn't it? Of course it is. I finally started doing my exam last night (it's was a take-home, case-study essay kind of thing) and plan to write it up tonight (since it's DUE tomorrow). I have to work on it at lunch today, too, which means I'd better type fast. Blah, blah, blah.

This Friday is hubby's 41st birthday. I won't be spending oodles of money for the occasion, but he'll like his smaller gifts just fine I'm sure. We're planning to see the Ice Bears (hockey) in the evening and maybe go ride horses on Saturday. That sounds good to me!

Speaking of horses, there's a very neat place here that does clinical work using horses. I got to do a workshop there a couple of years ago and was really inspired and amazed by the process. Maybe I need to go visit them again sometime soon? Inspiration is the elixir of the gods. And, as I say, cat puke is the casserole of the gods. Blech, I'm gross.

Anyway, I sent the equine therapy facility an email, basically asking if they are interested in doing field placements and if not, could I work for free or trade communications services for training/education/mucking stalls/whatever. What the hell, right? I'm getting too old to not just get out there and go for things. I wish I were a little further along in my "equine education" because EAGALA is holding a Level I therapy training. Bah, maybe next year (and when I have $600!).

Click here for pictures from the workshop I did at New Directions Farm.

Monday, March 01, 2004

I do not...

I do not like feeling lost. I do not like being indecisive. I do not want to write out my exam for Wednesday's class. I do not feel like cleaning the house. I do not feel like being at work. I do not feel creative. I do not feel like exercising. I do not feel like knitting. I do not feel like doing anything...

I'm used to reaching an impasse with myself every once in a while, but not every other week. Usually I break through the dry spell with a better understanding of myself and who I am becoming. Usually. Instead, it seems my soul has given way to vascillating between this and that--and maybe one of those. All that gray, hazy drama was supposed to end in 2003. I guess calendars don't care how you feel. I know I put way too much pressure on myself to be settled on things and moving through a plan, but, but, but...

Sometimes I wonder, wander, wonder, wander, wondering, wandering. Maybe I need a damn vacation. The only vacations I have had in about three years is some art workshops. I haven't stuck my toes in sand, drank irresponsibly and gotten a good sunburn in years. I wonder if...

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