The sun has risen, the Fog has not. I listened in the Dreamtime to its rhythm and its rhythm, floating on its grey waves even as I stay anchored. A rock in a silver sea, the graffiti left behind a scar, a story, a memory, a song. It took me by the hand as it washed away the world. I wonder what else it has to share?
The sun is obscured, as if the day is merely and afterthought. The waterbeat rhythm still shifts my feet. I want to walk it back to its source. Not yet.
It hangs above the remaining snow and newly revealed grasses. It knows what we are coming to understand. All things end, and all things come back, and the stories between are worth telling, worth listening to, worth keeping. So too, then, are we.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Here it comes .....
The Fog rolls in like dragon’s breath, thick and rich and sweet. In the short walk from the train it has cast over the streets and between the buildings, so dense its hard to know that stranger drifting out of the grey mist before me. Is he from around here’ Does he know where here is? Do i? Curious.
The dreams com slow and wild, drifting in and out of the moving grey like figures on strings, the silver curtain the only veil between our worlds. What becomes of the ones caught still walking when the Fog lifts? This is the kind of night where people disappear and reappear at will, though by their own or another’s is a matter of perspective.
Ashen and expectant, it rolls on, beyond and through me. Dare I follow, either to its source of along its journey? Nah, I stay behind this time, drinking in the newcomers and watching that which is taken drift along, freer than it will ever be again. Perhaps one day I too will join it, but this night is not for me. I close the door just to, letting the Fog roll in as it Will. What stories have you brought to share tonight, Old Wise One? What more have you seen in the wide Worlds?
The dreams com slow and wild, drifting in and out of the moving grey like figures on strings, the silver curtain the only veil between our worlds. What becomes of the ones caught still walking when the Fog lifts? This is the kind of night where people disappear and reappear at will, though by their own or another’s is a matter of perspective.
Ashen and expectant, it rolls on, beyond and through me. Dare I follow, either to its source of along its journey? Nah, I stay behind this time, drinking in the newcomers and watching that which is taken drift along, freer than it will ever be again. Perhaps one day I too will join it, but this night is not for me. I close the door just to, letting the Fog roll in as it Will. What stories have you brought to share tonight, Old Wise One? What more have you seen in the wide Worlds?
Monday, February 22, 2010
White Ribbon, White Trees
So, saw ‘White Ribbon’ yesterday. AMAZING film. It’s the kind that movie buffs will be analyzing for years to come. It’s about a small village in Germany just prior to World War I. a series of strange happenings, nothing of the supernatural, simply tragic and close together, spin the village into a quiet frenzy of suspicion and conspiracy. The film ends just at the beginning of the War, and many of the deep-seated tensions of this village mirror those of the region at the time. It’s a microcosm/macrocosm mirroring that is truly lovely. I just wish the damn movie had as ENDING.
This is the second time in as many weeks I’ve come across a story that has no ending. I’m currently torturing myself with the “Incarnations of Immortality” series by Piers Anthony. Book 3 , no freakin’ ending. Almost as bad as the movie “Sex and Breakfast.” It’s rash inducing how badly that sucks. The story (in the book, not the movie) is wonderful, the world he builds is exquisite in it’s simplicity laid over such a complex framework that is beautifully easy to grasp. It’s just such a shame about his writing…
But be that as it may, the company of yesterday was excellent. Intelligent and sarcastic in delicious ways, all while being warm and snuggly. Quite a pleasure, one I wish I could share more of, but alas, I longed for a social life and got one. Blast it all.
And yet, for all my doubts and worries and trials and schedules, all I can do is watch the snow dust onto the streets as I wait for my laundry to be done so I can sleep. Time passes so slowly as the white dances down from the sky. I wonder what its like, to live so short a life. To fall from the heavens to the earth in a single bound, carried to your resting place by the winds.
This is the second time in as many weeks I’ve come across a story that has no ending. I’m currently torturing myself with the “Incarnations of Immortality” series by Piers Anthony. Book 3 , no freakin’ ending. Almost as bad as the movie “Sex and Breakfast.” It’s rash inducing how badly that sucks. The story (in the book, not the movie) is wonderful, the world he builds is exquisite in it’s simplicity laid over such a complex framework that is beautifully easy to grasp. It’s just such a shame about his writing…
But be that as it may, the company of yesterday was excellent. Intelligent and sarcastic in delicious ways, all while being warm and snuggly. Quite a pleasure, one I wish I could share more of, but alas, I longed for a social life and got one. Blast it all.
And yet, for all my doubts and worries and trials and schedules, all I can do is watch the snow dust onto the streets as I wait for my laundry to be done so I can sleep. Time passes so slowly as the white dances down from the sky. I wonder what its like, to live so short a life. To fall from the heavens to the earth in a single bound, carried to your resting place by the winds.
The Leaving
And so begins another adventure. Balance is a thing of perspective, yet as perspective evolves, balance must be maintained. Or tipped entirely on its ear, one of the two.
So, regardless of practically untenable (and thankfully soon to be EXITING) roommates, I’ve managed to get settled. It took me almost a year, and the roommates didn’t help at all, but I’ve managed at last to settle in to what has become my own piece of life. And yet I’m antsy. Expectant. Wanting. As usual, the Leaving is creeping in again.
Catherine Valente actually articulated this better than I could ever hope to in her book, In The Night Garden. She spoke of a sensation unignorable, a calling of sea and adventure and movement, called the Leaving. It has followed me most of my adult life, this need to go, to see, to find, to move about. It took me across state lines, into the arms of various lovers, and yet always my eyes on the horizon, westward, wanting. And this is the first time in my life I’ve ever truly want to drop kick the Leaving. I don’t want to go.
I know where I would go, which doesn’t make this any easier. I’m visiting there next month, seeing friends and brothers and sisters, comrades in trickster mischief, set in the Pacific Northwest, 4 hours by plane away from everything I have built and know and love. And yet how much I would be leaving behind if I DON’T go. I’m leaving something behind either way, visiting instead of living. Yet which family do I cherish, and which do I allow to fly free? Part of me has made the choice, brushing aside illogical, irrelevant fancy, giving way to tenable joy, to tangible existence. And yet the Leaving hungers. It longs for the road, longs for the freedom of complete autonomy.
And this is where my being wants to say fuck it and go on tour. I’ve been considering putting an ad in Craig’s List for quite a while, something to the tune of, “Singer Seeking Songwriter.” My music has always been such an integral part of my life, and yet I don’t give it enough attention. I realized that at Capricon just 2 weekends ago, singing on stage with Eric Coleman. It made me realize how much I want this, to be able to share this gift, to let it warm the hearts of those around me, their smiles and laughter warming mine.
It’s a long way to find out who we are. The Waiting sucks.
So, regardless of practically untenable (and thankfully soon to be EXITING) roommates, I’ve managed to get settled. It took me almost a year, and the roommates didn’t help at all, but I’ve managed at last to settle in to what has become my own piece of life. And yet I’m antsy. Expectant. Wanting. As usual, the Leaving is creeping in again.
Catherine Valente actually articulated this better than I could ever hope to in her book, In The Night Garden. She spoke of a sensation unignorable, a calling of sea and adventure and movement, called the Leaving. It has followed me most of my adult life, this need to go, to see, to find, to move about. It took me across state lines, into the arms of various lovers, and yet always my eyes on the horizon, westward, wanting. And this is the first time in my life I’ve ever truly want to drop kick the Leaving. I don’t want to go.
I know where I would go, which doesn’t make this any easier. I’m visiting there next month, seeing friends and brothers and sisters, comrades in trickster mischief, set in the Pacific Northwest, 4 hours by plane away from everything I have built and know and love. And yet how much I would be leaving behind if I DON’T go. I’m leaving something behind either way, visiting instead of living. Yet which family do I cherish, and which do I allow to fly free? Part of me has made the choice, brushing aside illogical, irrelevant fancy, giving way to tenable joy, to tangible existence. And yet the Leaving hungers. It longs for the road, longs for the freedom of complete autonomy.
And this is where my being wants to say fuck it and go on tour. I’ve been considering putting an ad in Craig’s List for quite a while, something to the tune of, “Singer Seeking Songwriter.” My music has always been such an integral part of my life, and yet I don’t give it enough attention. I realized that at Capricon just 2 weekends ago, singing on stage with Eric Coleman. It made me realize how much I want this, to be able to share this gift, to let it warm the hearts of those around me, their smiles and laughter warming mine.
It’s a long way to find out who we are. The Waiting sucks.
Been a bit...
Maybe its just been a while. Maybe it was the warning received. Or maybe I’m just being stood up for the second itme in my life. All are possible, which irritates me. But all are also possible in combination, which makes me stabby. And ramble. Another Tanlge. Shit.
I suppose I just need to relax. I’m nervous for a couple good reasons and a lot of lousy ones. The freakish paranoia set in a little while ago, my mind conjuring wild scenes of car acciednets and zombie invasions and alien abductions, keeping my friend from meeting me for dinner. Not a fan of my mind when it’s like this.
LATER:
So instead, I’m an idiot. Surprise! I love miscommunication. Makes for the first blog-like thought process I’ve had in months. Could be the start of something. Could also be exhaustion feeding insanity, but what of that?
Being silly has it’s good points. But lessons wrought of silliness tend to end either in zombies or strange tea parties. This one will end in music. Dirge or symphony remains to be seen.
I suppose I just need to relax. I’m nervous for a couple good reasons and a lot of lousy ones. The freakish paranoia set in a little while ago, my mind conjuring wild scenes of car acciednets and zombie invasions and alien abductions, keeping my friend from meeting me for dinner. Not a fan of my mind when it’s like this.
LATER:
So instead, I’m an idiot. Surprise! I love miscommunication. Makes for the first blog-like thought process I’ve had in months. Could be the start of something. Could also be exhaustion feeding insanity, but what of that?
Being silly has it’s good points. But lessons wrought of silliness tend to end either in zombies or strange tea parties. This one will end in music. Dirge or symphony remains to be seen.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Distraction Between
It's funny how the sky is so rarely black in the city. I think e lost the night when we succumbed to the village being larger than we were. The lights have veiled the blackness into a deep blue that is beauteous in its own way, but distracts us from the primal night that we all know deep down lay just beyond. Every now and then, we have to go beyond that blue veil and into the starlit night because it is truth.
I had such distraction forcibly taken from me yesterday in a moment that very well could have gotten me killed. I fell onto the train tracks near my office. Listening to my iPod, completely not paying attention to the moment as I thought about my day, I tripped. Wet wood, high rails all prevailing against my complete state of unawares to send me into a face plant in the rocks. SPLAT. FUCK OW. The very act of falling was in severe slow motion, as if a part of me wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't, and then came the pain. I had enough presence of mind to brace myself for it, and thankfully neither head nor face ever touched the rocks or the rail. Something that very easily could have knocked me out, leaving me prey to the oncoming trains. No one would have known where I was. No one would have ever known I'd been hit until it was far too late. Between the two sets of tracks, I could have been missed by trains in either direction, or I could have been obliterated. Instead I walked away with four scratches, three bruises and a dead iPod. I got off LIGHT.
I allowed this to happen. It sucks even saying that to myself let alone writing, it, but I allowed this to be. I allow myself distraction because it’s easy. It's pretty and easy and time-consuming and fun and it doesn't serve me as much as I need but I don't care. That not caring almost got me killed yesterday.
And yet today, amid a flurry of distraction, I came across three very distinct and equally scary truths at the beginning of this night: I'm dangerously close to being in love, I'm dangerous close to either breaking someone or being broken by them from 2500 miles away, and I have no idea what I want in either case. That was the beginning of the story.
I will not use names out of respect. Lets us call them Jason and Eric and Dana. Jason is 2500 miles away and an enigma sight-unseen. Adrift in the wake of a very bad relationship, he has made the healthy choice to bunker in and heal before venturing outward again. And yet his agile mind and spiritual kinship latched onto me like an anchor tie, and I could not but hold it by my very nature. And yet now the boundary must be set. I cannot be what he needs, and I cannot help him heal in the way that he must. To do so would intertwine me in his healing, to make me a part of his whole that would be difficult if not impossible to disengage from without breaking again. Heals wrong, break the bone again and set it right. I can't be that wrong healing, and I will not be a part of any dependency situation. Not again. NEVER again. No matter how much I care for him, I cannot be what he needs in this way. I have to let go that tie and bleed as it pulls free, taking bits of skin in the friction.
And so to Eric, who all but fell out of the sky and into my existence. Esoteric and charming, intelligent and bold, yet a force onto himself in his silence and solitude, the lone tower in the storm. He keeps those around him safe while allowing them their own journeys. He takes apart the puzzles to know how to make them better. He pulls sci-fi from the heavens and makes it his own. Sound familiar to anyone else? And he is here. Before me. Interested. Just as scared as I am about how well our faults fit together. We have managed in a short time to find such a healthy balance of faults to compliment each other and become this understood thing that neither of us can name and yet we both already knew.
And then to Dana, who is a force onto herself, so fiery and child-like and potent even in her darkest moments. Forked tongue to cut the air itself, yet a laugh that could make the dead grin. So quick was our understanding, and so deep has out passion been that I have to wonder which one of us is more frightened: Dana, Myself, or Eric. Good thing they're already together, or this might be a very tragic story. Dangerous close to love in two corners, and perfectly content, yet allowing enough for distraction that it nearly cost me everything.
And so the night went on...
I have learned to ignore the obvious because it cannot possibly be so simple. It is in fact. And the simpler it is, the hard it is to wrap my head around. I bring complication where there is none, mathematics and numbers and words unneeded in the mere presence of simplicity. It is, and that is all there is to it. I allow things to get so complicated that distraction is the only way to deal. My own need for complication is the key. Why do I need it? Why must I have it? What purpose does it serve? My need to understand gives the expectation of complexity where none exists. It is this expectation that allows for the distraction to take root. No more of this circular nonsense. If it cannot serve the Will it is cast aside or cut clean, bloody and wet and lifeless at the roadside. And though I may bleed from the culling, I will heal in time, carrying the scar of memory as an understanding of NEVER AGAIN. and yet the path is not so lonely anymore, not so desolate and not so complicated, even withe the obvious change. Awareness is not complication. Awareness is just that.
So may basics understood for so long I forget how integral they are until one of them loses feeling. Like when my arms falls asleep and I try to move it. Always knew it was important. barely thought about it until I was without, and then it suddenly becoming vital in the way only an epiphany can. And yet it is not so grandiose. It simply is.
An evening of words and pictures and so much muck. Time to weed it out to the barest bits, in this time when the veil is thinnest.... oh, wait. I have all winter. Good, enough time to make sense of it all before I head west again…
I had such distraction forcibly taken from me yesterday in a moment that very well could have gotten me killed. I fell onto the train tracks near my office. Listening to my iPod, completely not paying attention to the moment as I thought about my day, I tripped. Wet wood, high rails all prevailing against my complete state of unawares to send me into a face plant in the rocks. SPLAT. FUCK OW. The very act of falling was in severe slow motion, as if a part of me wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't, and then came the pain. I had enough presence of mind to brace myself for it, and thankfully neither head nor face ever touched the rocks or the rail. Something that very easily could have knocked me out, leaving me prey to the oncoming trains. No one would have known where I was. No one would have ever known I'd been hit until it was far too late. Between the two sets of tracks, I could have been missed by trains in either direction, or I could have been obliterated. Instead I walked away with four scratches, three bruises and a dead iPod. I got off LIGHT.
I allowed this to happen. It sucks even saying that to myself let alone writing, it, but I allowed this to be. I allow myself distraction because it’s easy. It's pretty and easy and time-consuming and fun and it doesn't serve me as much as I need but I don't care. That not caring almost got me killed yesterday.
And yet today, amid a flurry of distraction, I came across three very distinct and equally scary truths at the beginning of this night: I'm dangerously close to being in love, I'm dangerous close to either breaking someone or being broken by them from 2500 miles away, and I have no idea what I want in either case. That was the beginning of the story.
I will not use names out of respect. Lets us call them Jason and Eric and Dana. Jason is 2500 miles away and an enigma sight-unseen. Adrift in the wake of a very bad relationship, he has made the healthy choice to bunker in and heal before venturing outward again. And yet his agile mind and spiritual kinship latched onto me like an anchor tie, and I could not but hold it by my very nature. And yet now the boundary must be set. I cannot be what he needs, and I cannot help him heal in the way that he must. To do so would intertwine me in his healing, to make me a part of his whole that would be difficult if not impossible to disengage from without breaking again. Heals wrong, break the bone again and set it right. I can't be that wrong healing, and I will not be a part of any dependency situation. Not again. NEVER again. No matter how much I care for him, I cannot be what he needs in this way. I have to let go that tie and bleed as it pulls free, taking bits of skin in the friction.
And so to Eric, who all but fell out of the sky and into my existence. Esoteric and charming, intelligent and bold, yet a force onto himself in his silence and solitude, the lone tower in the storm. He keeps those around him safe while allowing them their own journeys. He takes apart the puzzles to know how to make them better. He pulls sci-fi from the heavens and makes it his own. Sound familiar to anyone else? And he is here. Before me. Interested. Just as scared as I am about how well our faults fit together. We have managed in a short time to find such a healthy balance of faults to compliment each other and become this understood thing that neither of us can name and yet we both already knew.
And then to Dana, who is a force onto herself, so fiery and child-like and potent even in her darkest moments. Forked tongue to cut the air itself, yet a laugh that could make the dead grin. So quick was our understanding, and so deep has out passion been that I have to wonder which one of us is more frightened: Dana, Myself, or Eric. Good thing they're already together, or this might be a very tragic story. Dangerous close to love in two corners, and perfectly content, yet allowing enough for distraction that it nearly cost me everything.
And so the night went on...
I have learned to ignore the obvious because it cannot possibly be so simple. It is in fact. And the simpler it is, the hard it is to wrap my head around. I bring complication where there is none, mathematics and numbers and words unneeded in the mere presence of simplicity. It is, and that is all there is to it. I allow things to get so complicated that distraction is the only way to deal. My own need for complication is the key. Why do I need it? Why must I have it? What purpose does it serve? My need to understand gives the expectation of complexity where none exists. It is this expectation that allows for the distraction to take root. No more of this circular nonsense. If it cannot serve the Will it is cast aside or cut clean, bloody and wet and lifeless at the roadside. And though I may bleed from the culling, I will heal in time, carrying the scar of memory as an understanding of NEVER AGAIN. and yet the path is not so lonely anymore, not so desolate and not so complicated, even withe the obvious change. Awareness is not complication. Awareness is just that.
So may basics understood for so long I forget how integral they are until one of them loses feeling. Like when my arms falls asleep and I try to move it. Always knew it was important. barely thought about it until I was without, and then it suddenly becoming vital in the way only an epiphany can. And yet it is not so grandiose. It simply is.
An evening of words and pictures and so much muck. Time to weed it out to the barest bits, in this time when the veil is thinnest.... oh, wait. I have all winter. Good, enough time to make sense of it all before I head west again…
Monday, October 12, 2009
Part the way
And so now do the seasons change once more before our eyes, within our bones. Mabon has passed into the cool winds, the leaves fall like rainbow rain, and the frost creeps in from the rolling north to bid the beginning of winter. Samhain looms before me like a great gatekeeper beaconing me forward as the old hinges creek open, the way black as pit in the night. So now do I stand before that gate, hearing the voices of those past and those who have always been sight unseen. I fear not the dark, I fear not the messages. I fear only my own inabilities. Yet I step, for though I may feel unworthy myself, those who call to me see some worth in me. I only hope to make good on such sight. A breath into the night…
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Whee!
So, it’s been a bit for me. It’s been a very BUSY, BUSY bit. It’s amazing, really. I always wanted a social life, and now that I have one all I want is a break!
The wedding is now over. Thanks the gods. It was beautiful and wonderful and joyous and yes, I cried AFTER I did my section. Personally written vows. Get me every time. Aspecting Fire in fact did NOT set the altar ablaze NOR did it cause any enormous outbursts on the part of anyone, all wins in my eyes. But I did mange to let out my inner firebitch when I kicked out the reception crashers from the bachelor party next door. I’m sorry, no small horde of drunken rejects was going to come waltzing in and get a warm welcome, especially after one of them was eyeing my 16-year-old friend. It’s the kind of thing that makes a short chubby redhead into a demon who is going to EAT YOUR FUCKING FACE if you don’t do exactly what she says right now. Hee hee!
Stronghold is also now over and I am officially the talk of the social circuit of the Bristol crowd. JOY. What I get for being led around and introduced by an engaged man (known to be a shameless flirt) and his wife (who is a wench. No seriously, she’s in the Guild). I walked on his left while his fiancé walked on his right, which according to centuries of tradition makes her the wife and me the… Trying to find work for Faire next year just got INTERESTING.
I am now officially going to Kansas City without fail next weekend, which means that yet another weekend will be spent on the road as opposed to resting. And not just on the road, no no. DRIVING. 8 hours one way, and the first leg is Friday night after a full week at work. I get to bring all my stuff to work, get picked up, sleep for 2 hours, then drive for 6 so Sherry can get some sleep. The KC Ren Faire is going to ROCK, though. My Circle is meeting there, Tessa and the Yeomen (the King’s Guard) will be there, and I’m going to try and seek out a shirt for Windy Con. If I can find that and a skirt, Huzzah! But yeah, another whole weekend away from home. Without rest. My body is already objecting, and YET…
Syn in the weekend after. Granted, Saturday during the day is empty, and with good reason, but Friday night after work until who knows when and Saturday night until who the HELL knows when are booked so high and so deep I don’t even want to think about them anymore. Thankfully I get ONE DAY to myself that Sunday. Which means HOUSECLEANING. Oh my, we’re really having some fun now. But WAIT, there’s MORE…
Possible end of summer hurrah with two people I haven’t seen in literally YEARS. Canceling on them at this point would be not only insane and rude but also out of the questions, so another Sat gone. Then the next week is Halloween, which is going to be a nightmare, no pun intended.
Then November begins, and I get one weekend to myself before Windy Con. Thankfully. I get to complete my costuming and make sure I have everything I need in dangly bits and shinies for the Masquerade. Fun! Then one more weekend before Thanksgiving, and I haven’t bought my bus tickets yet. What’s WRONG with me, you ask? I haven’t got time to tell you about it, as you can see! Or can you see? Am I going too fast for you? I’m sure as hell going too fast for ME!! Whee!!
The wedding is now over. Thanks the gods. It was beautiful and wonderful and joyous and yes, I cried AFTER I did my section. Personally written vows. Get me every time. Aspecting Fire in fact did NOT set the altar ablaze NOR did it cause any enormous outbursts on the part of anyone, all wins in my eyes. But I did mange to let out my inner firebitch when I kicked out the reception crashers from the bachelor party next door. I’m sorry, no small horde of drunken rejects was going to come waltzing in and get a warm welcome, especially after one of them was eyeing my 16-year-old friend. It’s the kind of thing that makes a short chubby redhead into a demon who is going to EAT YOUR FUCKING FACE if you don’t do exactly what she says right now. Hee hee!
Stronghold is also now over and I am officially the talk of the social circuit of the Bristol crowd. JOY. What I get for being led around and introduced by an engaged man (known to be a shameless flirt) and his wife (who is a wench. No seriously, she’s in the Guild). I walked on his left while his fiancé walked on his right, which according to centuries of tradition makes her the wife and me the… Trying to find work for Faire next year just got INTERESTING.
I am now officially going to Kansas City without fail next weekend, which means that yet another weekend will be spent on the road as opposed to resting. And not just on the road, no no. DRIVING. 8 hours one way, and the first leg is Friday night after a full week at work. I get to bring all my stuff to work, get picked up, sleep for 2 hours, then drive for 6 so Sherry can get some sleep. The KC Ren Faire is going to ROCK, though. My Circle is meeting there, Tessa and the Yeomen (the King’s Guard) will be there, and I’m going to try and seek out a shirt for Windy Con. If I can find that and a skirt, Huzzah! But yeah, another whole weekend away from home. Without rest. My body is already objecting, and YET…
Syn in the weekend after. Granted, Saturday during the day is empty, and with good reason, but Friday night after work until who knows when and Saturday night until who the HELL knows when are booked so high and so deep I don’t even want to think about them anymore. Thankfully I get ONE DAY to myself that Sunday. Which means HOUSECLEANING. Oh my, we’re really having some fun now. But WAIT, there’s MORE…
Possible end of summer hurrah with two people I haven’t seen in literally YEARS. Canceling on them at this point would be not only insane and rude but also out of the questions, so another Sat gone. Then the next week is Halloween, which is going to be a nightmare, no pun intended.
Then November begins, and I get one weekend to myself before Windy Con. Thankfully. I get to complete my costuming and make sure I have everything I need in dangly bits and shinies for the Masquerade. Fun! Then one more weekend before Thanksgiving, and I haven’t bought my bus tickets yet. What’s WRONG with me, you ask? I haven’t got time to tell you about it, as you can see! Or can you see? Am I going too fast for you? I’m sure as hell going too fast for ME!! Whee!!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Obama, 1 and a 2...
Ok, so again I'm late to the party on these ideas, but it works in its own very special way.
To open, let's get this out right now: Rep. Joe Wilson (R-SC) -- the guy who shouted "You lie" when Obama said the health care plan would not cover illegal immigrants -- is a putz. And given everything else that's come out of the state of SC in recent weeks and months, that man REALLY shouldn't be talking about liars. Enough said.
Speech to school children :: what the hell? What was everyone so fucking upset about? The entire Wingnut brigade was up in arms about how no president had ever done anything like this before outside of North Korea (laughing) and how he was trying to hijack the minds of America's youth. We could only be so lucky, but I was actually IN school when Ronald Reagan pulled out this CRINGE-worthy PR move in '88, so unprecedented is not the word I would use for this.
And exactly what is wrong with a black president telling children they really can be ANYTHING they want to be? He's a first in American history! Why NOT have him address our children as living proof that anything can happen given hard work and want? Work hard, stay in school, set your own academic goals because your country needs you. Right. He's brainwashing them. Right.
Next up :: Health Care. Cue the sighs, the groans, and the cheers. honestly, I thought this one had serious promise. He said a lot of things that I've been screaming for a long time, especially given the medical history of my own family. NO ONE should go broke just becasue they get sick. No one should be denied medical coverage by an insurance company because of a pre-existing condition. when I was 13, I had to take a specific medication to control a very serious internal imbalanace. It was prescribed by a dR., but my mother's insurance wouldnt' cover it. It took FEDERAL legislation to force insuracne companies to cover this particular med, but int he meantime my mother had to pay full price for my meds. Never hated being sick so much in my whole life as when I found that out. NO ONE should ever have to feel that way.
And I'm sorry, but when you get told by an insurance company that they won't pay to give your 17-year-old daughter a liver transplant because according to the bureaucrats who decide these things in their cubicles somewhere she's beyond help, regardless of the fact that a team of Dr. has said it would save her life, and you spend over a year lobbying to get them to pay, but when they finally DO AGREE with the original diagnosis and agree to pay she dies on a donor waiting list, you should have the right to take every single person who had a hand in that decision and hang them from the nearest tree until their feet quit kicking. But that's just me.
And do not EVEN get me started on pharmacists being able to decide what meds they will and will not dispense. As a pharmacist, you are a member of the medical community. You have issue with giving out contraceptives or AIDS meds? QUIT. Someone who actually gives a shit about helping people and saving lives will GLEEFULLY take your place.
The rebuttal by Dr. Charles "I'm Even Worse Than Bobby Jindal" Boustany, however...I'm shaking as I type. Someone needs to bleed this guy dry so the FDA can approve his blood as a narcotic because CLEARLY he has been smoking something hardcore and foul.
And so now do we end the most recent few memorable moments of the Administration. My question becomes this: the Dems have control. When are they planning on waking up to that fact and actually getting things DONE around here? One has to wonder....
To open, let's get this out right now: Rep. Joe Wilson (R-SC) -- the guy who shouted "You lie" when Obama said the health care plan would not cover illegal immigrants -- is a putz. And given everything else that's come out of the state of SC in recent weeks and months, that man REALLY shouldn't be talking about liars. Enough said.
Speech to school children :: what the hell? What was everyone so fucking upset about? The entire Wingnut brigade was up in arms about how no president had ever done anything like this before outside of North Korea (laughing) and how he was trying to hijack the minds of America's youth. We could only be so lucky, but I was actually IN school when Ronald Reagan pulled out this CRINGE-worthy PR move in '88, so unprecedented is not the word I would use for this.
And exactly what is wrong with a black president telling children they really can be ANYTHING they want to be? He's a first in American history! Why NOT have him address our children as living proof that anything can happen given hard work and want? Work hard, stay in school, set your own academic goals because your country needs you. Right. He's brainwashing them. Right.
Next up :: Health Care. Cue the sighs, the groans, and the cheers. honestly, I thought this one had serious promise. He said a lot of things that I've been screaming for a long time, especially given the medical history of my own family. NO ONE should go broke just becasue they get sick. No one should be denied medical coverage by an insurance company because of a pre-existing condition. when I was 13, I had to take a specific medication to control a very serious internal imbalanace. It was prescribed by a dR., but my mother's insurance wouldnt' cover it. It took FEDERAL legislation to force insuracne companies to cover this particular med, but int he meantime my mother had to pay full price for my meds. Never hated being sick so much in my whole life as when I found that out. NO ONE should ever have to feel that way.
And I'm sorry, but when you get told by an insurance company that they won't pay to give your 17-year-old daughter a liver transplant because according to the bureaucrats who decide these things in their cubicles somewhere she's beyond help, regardless of the fact that a team of Dr. has said it would save her life, and you spend over a year lobbying to get them to pay, but when they finally DO AGREE with the original diagnosis and agree to pay she dies on a donor waiting list, you should have the right to take every single person who had a hand in that decision and hang them from the nearest tree until their feet quit kicking. But that's just me.
And do not EVEN get me started on pharmacists being able to decide what meds they will and will not dispense. As a pharmacist, you are a member of the medical community. You have issue with giving out contraceptives or AIDS meds? QUIT. Someone who actually gives a shit about helping people and saving lives will GLEEFULLY take your place.
The rebuttal by Dr. Charles "I'm Even Worse Than Bobby Jindal" Boustany, however...I'm shaking as I type. Someone needs to bleed this guy dry so the FDA can approve his blood as a narcotic because CLEARLY he has been smoking something hardcore and foul.
And so now do we end the most recent few memorable moments of the Administration. My question becomes this: the Dems have control. When are they planning on waking up to that fact and actually getting things DONE around here? One has to wonder....
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
What did you do today?
I did dishes.
I’m one of those people that needs quantifiable, tangible accomplishment every single day, or I will go absolutely nuts.
I have worked at jobs in the past where I could work all day and I could explain to you exactly what I did, but there would no way for you to prove, no real way I could really prove, it, but I did it. It sucked. So I went home everyday and did dishes. I watched a sink full of dishes dwindle down to nothing and the stack of clean dishes piled up into this really cool pyramid thing, but I DID something. Or I’d clean the catbox. Or take out the trash. I accomplished something.
I mean, when I walk into my workplace every day, I don’t think, “Hey, I went to work today. “ No. Work is an opportunity to do something. With work for me, you have two options: you accomplish something, or you fuck off. What you accomplish isn’t always in your job description… My job title is in essence sales. I sell a product. What I DO everyday is grab teachers by the arm and say, “You gotta see this!” I help teachers get something they need, something they want, and something that will serve them. I put something in front of teachers and say, “This is where you are, this is what you do, this is what you WANT to do, this is where you WANT to go, and THIS program will help you get there. This will work for you. Why are you not already here?”
If I don’t accomplish something over the course of a day, I feel awful. I feel like I am wasting my life. Not just my time, but my life, because what is time but a part of life? Therefore my life get wasted when my time gets wasted. And that is completely unacceptable. So I go home and I do something. I finish something. If I get hit by a car tomorrow, my life is over, poof done, I will be able to say, “ I accomplished something.”
What did you do today? If you don’t have an answer right now, that’s ok. Continuing to not have an answer is not ok.
DO SOMETHING. Do something that you love. Do something that makes you smile. Do something that makes you proud to stand up and say, “YES! I did that.” But DO something. Even if it is as simple as dishes. Because at the end of the day it does not matter what you think. It does not matter what you intend. It doesn’t even matter what you say. Talk is cheap and I believe. I talk for LIVING, and I believe that. It is not what you say. It is about what you DO. What did YOU DO today?
You’ve got time. What COULD you do?
I’m one of those people that needs quantifiable, tangible accomplishment every single day, or I will go absolutely nuts.
I have worked at jobs in the past where I could work all day and I could explain to you exactly what I did, but there would no way for you to prove, no real way I could really prove, it, but I did it. It sucked. So I went home everyday and did dishes. I watched a sink full of dishes dwindle down to nothing and the stack of clean dishes piled up into this really cool pyramid thing, but I DID something. Or I’d clean the catbox. Or take out the trash. I accomplished something.
I mean, when I walk into my workplace every day, I don’t think, “Hey, I went to work today. “ No. Work is an opportunity to do something. With work for me, you have two options: you accomplish something, or you fuck off. What you accomplish isn’t always in your job description… My job title is in essence sales. I sell a product. What I DO everyday is grab teachers by the arm and say, “You gotta see this!” I help teachers get something they need, something they want, and something that will serve them. I put something in front of teachers and say, “This is where you are, this is what you do, this is what you WANT to do, this is where you WANT to go, and THIS program will help you get there. This will work for you. Why are you not already here?”
If I don’t accomplish something over the course of a day, I feel awful. I feel like I am wasting my life. Not just my time, but my life, because what is time but a part of life? Therefore my life get wasted when my time gets wasted. And that is completely unacceptable. So I go home and I do something. I finish something. If I get hit by a car tomorrow, my life is over, poof done, I will be able to say, “ I accomplished something.”
What did you do today? If you don’t have an answer right now, that’s ok. Continuing to not have an answer is not ok.
DO SOMETHING. Do something that you love. Do something that makes you smile. Do something that makes you proud to stand up and say, “YES! I did that.” But DO something. Even if it is as simple as dishes. Because at the end of the day it does not matter what you think. It does not matter what you intend. It doesn’t even matter what you say. Talk is cheap and I believe. I talk for LIVING, and I believe that. It is not what you say. It is about what you DO. What did YOU DO today?
You’ve got time. What COULD you do?
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