Thursday, June 28, 2007

Dream of X being pathetic

In this new dream, I'm a completely different MH. This time, I am finally making a living wage. I can finally afford a condo in one of those (finally) refurbished downtown buildings. The elegant tower was accurately named The Metropolitan decades ago. In my dream. I feel like The Metropolitan and I have a lot in common.


I glide triumphantly through the large glass doors as the bell hop guy stares. I let him know exactly who I am, feeling like Mary Tyler Moore. He makes a phone call, mentioning that he has never heard of "Mental Hygiene" before. Nobody ever heard of me, he says to me. He reminds me of my old Jr high school secretary, who would keep the phone cradled between her ear and her massive shoulder while it rang at my mom's desk and I prayed that she wouldn't answer....

I assure the pseudoinvestigator that there must be some mistake. I rifle through my purse for a key even though I know I don't have one. My realtor had left a voice mail announcing his intent to leave the key at the concierge. I explain to that I just want to check with her over "there," and I will remove myself from the premises if she does not have my key.

Luckily, it is at the desk. Sherlock immediately becomes the bell hop guy again, and apologizes profusely. No longer a trespasser, I pointedly ignore him as I call for someone to show me how to get up to my brand new condo. "Right away, Ms. Hygiene," I hear as I authoritatively scan the poor sops seated on the marble benches directly in front of this majestic castle. Through the smoky glass, I recognize something in the face of one of those vagrants, but I can't seem to make it out entirely. I creep closer and realize, just as the vagrant in question meets my gaze, that it is X!

WTF is he doing there? Of course it could only be one thing. He just can't leave me the hell alone. I storm out the doors and over to his bench. I demand to know why in the world he would be sitting outside of MY house. He replies with some surprise. He did not know it was my building.
He met a girl at the coffee shop a couple days earlier and they had spent hours talking about "everything." She really seemed to understand him. She had mentioned that she lived here, and he was trying to see if he could meet her again.

I ask X how long he has been sitting around, stalking this poor girl. Probably MUCH fatter than me, although probably has a nicer nose and short hair, I decide. "Two days," he says. Of course. He would much rather sit and do nothing than look for a JOB. He looks like complete shit, too. Doesn't even care if he scares her with his unshaven jowls and dirty pants. Typical. Eh, maybe she likes that type. I must have at one point, right? He mumbles that he has been kicked out of his friend's house and he has nowhere to go. He thought for sure things "clicked" between himself and this girl, but he just hasn't seen her since they met.

I am torn. On one hand, I feel sorry for X and want to help him. On the other hand, he disgusts me. Same old crap! Never living in reality. He speaks up. "I think she works at the hospital. She's a doctor or something." I glare at him dead in the eye and squawk, "She's a doctor and she spent hours talking to you. Did you lie to her about your employment history?" He grins. "Well, yeah, but I thought that once she got to know me, it wouldn't matter. Besides, she makes enough for the both of us. So you live here, huh? Don't you want to show me your new place?"

I know exactly what he is trying to pull with that one, but I am too sick of him to bother with any expertly aimed insults. I tell him that I am just leaving, and I'll give him a ride to the hospital to look for his doctor.

It is winter. Icy and bitterly cold. It is getting dark. I drop him off at the emergency room and wish him the best of luck.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Ann Coulter disciplined by Elizabeth Edwards

Coulter isn't smart enough to realize it though. Even her fans clapped and cheered for Edwards towards the end of the exchange on Hardball. Segment here:

Saturday, June 23, 2007

A movie to avoid during a first date

Or it will be your last date. You know, since we both like The Frames a bit, we thought for SURE this would seal our fate as the newest perfect aging couple who deserved each other or whatever. Sigh. I guess I'm glad it all ended the way it did. I'm too old for romance and all that crap.

That's ok. Tonight I had the pleasure of seeing a vibrant and beautiful film. Once, by John Carney ( for samples of some of the tracks, turn speakers on when you click on the link ). I'm sure people all over have already heard about it. I am a notorious spoiler of endings, so I'll TRY not to do so here.... so just take my word for it, if you like the person, DON'T see this movie with him (or her?)!

It's the closest thing to a musical I've seen in awhile. Unfortunately, there are not enough tracks, included so we hear each tune about 500 times. Why didn't they throw some more songs from The Swell Season or, um, any Frames album? Don't know. Some old folks got up and left the theater. Old codgers. Ignore them, because the movie does progress, and there are some extremely touching moments, also amazing cinematography.

One more disappointment, then I'll shut it. Glen Hansard is WAY too old to be trying to mess around with the young lady. I'm really tired of it. It's just gross. You mean to tell me this is just ACTING? Come on. Where have Marketa's parents been, because she's not acting. Dude. Let the child have a future; she's talented! Your days are numbered and you know it. You have got to be, what, 40 already? She's too young for you, dog.

Me and Carey Grant are soul mates but obviously I am too young for him. And Glen. Marketa is just too young for you, old man. I doubt anybody around you would have the a-hems to tell you that, so I figured I'd help you out. You feelin' me on this one?

I did shed a couple of tears..... oh, forget it, I'll shut up so I don't spoil it.

Back to my first date. So after the credits started to roll and my date, still yet unnamed, gave me the "you ready to go?" stare, I realized that there would probably never be a good date movie for us. Everyone has their "signs" I guess. I'm new to the dating scene again, but MUCH WISER this time around. In a split second, as yet unnamed date was letting out a huge sigh - slash- cough, I knew I wouldn't be able to put up with that for the next 40 years. My friend. You can "forget" to open the door for me. I'm a modern woman, I GUESS. You can even get the medium sized popcorn. I'm not a popcorn hog. But please. Don't EVEN sigh all over me and let out one of your fakey unaffected coughs. It was just sick. So that's why I didn't even consider allowing you the impression that we'd be seeing Knocked Up next week. I didn't want to see that movie anyway. I'll be busy, I'm pretty sure.

My favorite ballad from the movie:



Lyrics here

Friday, June 22, 2007

Eight random facts about MH, by MH.


Many thanks to Seraphic Singles for inviting me to play tag. I am by no means a professional writer, or anything close so I will most likely disappoint those who have followed this link from her very worthwhile blog.

The Rules:
1. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
4. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.


Regarding the above rules: Number three is quite impossible, since I have no "online" friends. Sorry! I'll still play as well as I can. Sadly, number four is suffering the same fate d/t my non-participation in number three.

1. Some American punctuation bothers me. I am never happy when I have to place a period inside a quotation mark. Maybe because of this self-consciousness,
I am generally annoyed by those who call attention to other people's spelling, punctuation or grammar mistakes. On the other hand, I refuse to patronize any establishment that misuses an apostrophe on its signs or in its advertising. I once ran out of gas in the desert because I could not bring myself to trust the fuel from the "Gas - n - Shop's." I have trouble playing my old "Go-Go's" records for this very reason.

2. Popular Mechanics magazines from the fifties fascinate me. How I wish we could have lived up to their expectations.

3. The rejuvenated bubble skirt trend is killing my nerves. My two most hated memories are as follows: Being forced (at the sensitive age of 13) to wear a shiny satin, "pouf petal" bridesmaids dress in the totally awesome color of teal for an aunt's wedding... and temporarily forgetting about this former humiliation, showing up to school a few years later in a white cotton pouf skirt with black tights and white Converse "Chucks." Even the acid washed jean-clad head bangers laughed.


4. I always hated mushrooms and refused to eat them until I was 23 years old. A date treated me to a terribly expensive restaurant, and I felt it would seem rude to push the pricey brown curiosities to the side. Turns out I like mushrooms very much.

5. People say that I am a good listener, but they are wrong.

6. Sometimes I hate myself for not being able to live without material things like Sharpees, books, my old stuffed dog Fluffy and my "Little House on the Prairie" DVDs.

7. I am not ashamed to say that I lack any talent and I am a huge klutz.

8. My life's dream is to own a movie theater, and in it run only vintage films. That people would pay to see. Even if they only paid a couple of bucks.

HS student Jesse Lange / O'Reilly smackdown

O'Reilly was dealt a shock when he thought he could bully a young high school junior from CO. The kid was able to pull off something that most adults wouldn't even dream of: putting the old fart in his place! Bill could not hide his frustration and fury at being humiliated in front of his fans by a juvenile. He resorted to his usual bullying tactics, one of which was to call Mr Lange a "pinhead." Didn't work.


love it.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Weird dream

Last night I had a dream.

In the dream, I was not myself. I am not sure who I was, if I was anybody. But I know I was much younger and I was very brave compared to the REAL me.


I somehow met a guy and in one day we had decided to get married. We lived in a POS little RENTED trailer on a busy street which was known for its run-down strip clubs, used car lots and hookers. Across the street was a used car lot, run by a guy who had no idea what his cars were worth. He would ask too much for crappy cars (American made and old), and not enough for Japanese cars with reasonably low mileage.

I worked as a waitress at Waffle House. I would like to believe that I had all of my teeth, but with the job at Waffle House, that makes this assumption dangerous. Anyway, hubby worked for a short time at an Einstein Bagel a few blocks away. It was where we met. Then one day, he got the car lot owner to sell the whole lot to us. We also bought our trailer and moved it across the street to our new car lot. We sold off all the cars, increasing our space and our bank account.

I had a baby and we were happy. Then the husband started doing weird things like smoking crack and disappearing for days at a time. Money was scarce. I had the trailer moved back across the street, donated all of the husband's clothes and for awhile, kept my eye on the abandoned car lot. He came and went, seemingly unaware that he had destroyed our family.

One day I happened past Einstein bagel, which had changed owners and was now a brandless coffee shop - slash - "antique" (thrift) shop. I found a flat of old purses. I asked the guy at the counter how much they wanted. Five bucks! Yes! I loved old purses. I bought them, and sat down with my no-name-brand coffee to inspect this treasure.

I have heard that we only dream in black and white. It is just not true, because I KNOW that I had the most fabulous uniquely shaped purple purse. The purses all contained lots of neat things. Only a woman would understand what happens to a favorite purse when it is exchanged for a newer purse but not gotten rid of: It's like an abandoned nest. Perfectly usable, and containing the remnants of its former occupant. In the purses, I found old lipsticks, matchbooks, jewelry, glasses, and notes to self. Neat.

I asked the guy at the counter for a bag. I noted that he was cute, and maybe I'd come back tomorrow.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

There is no such thing as a feminarcissist

Sigh. This guy has no idea how transparent his own narcissism is.

Here is a great example of a man, angry that a woman who was created BY this sex-obsessed society gets more attention from the media than he'll ever get. His response, which is typical of most misogynists, is to create an insulting new term.


In the scheme of things, Paris Hilton’s life is irrelevant. She is nothing and contributes nothing. Worse, Americans’ focus on Paris prevents them from seeing a real and harmful form of self-absorption: feminism. Feminism began with the valid goal of bringing equality to women. Alas, over the years, it has morphed into a pathos of blind conceit and misandry. Modern feminists have almost total disregard for the consequences of their actions. They are feminarcissists.


Excuse me, asshole, but WHO is focused on PH? Hm. Wonder how many MEN downloaded her porn video. And WTF was she DOING in that video? Now you assholes are whining that she is is self-absorbed?

And I have news for you, asshole. Feminism is NOT for YOU to define, chronicle or analyze. You have zero basis to claim that feminists today are any more or less "valid" than they were eighty years ago, when images of a young lady being sexually demeaned would be shocking and disgusting to most people. Women have even more challenges to "equality" nowadays. So kindly fuck off.

Same old things on my restless mind

All this thought about houses and what you have to do to get them reminds me of probably why I'm so disgruntled about not being able to work today. Today would have been my/our 5-year wedding anniversary.

I sure wish I could erase the whole ordeal from my mind. I don't want to be married to X again. But I did so much enjoy being married in many ways. If only bla bla bla, right? I realize that it wasn't a great match, NOW. Actually, neither one of us are great spouses. But I can't imagine that all the other people in the world who ARE married and making it "work" are perfect. I think about what my imperfections are, and wonder WTF is SO bad about them. I think it's unfair that they are even thought of as imperfections.

So I complain about litterers. So what. So I REFUSED to watch sexually explicit movies. Is that going to kill a guy? Really, I wouldn't have had a problem with it if he didn't find it to be such an integral part of life. I have no respect for a guy who allows his mind to be controlled by the greedy producers of pornography. Doesn't he understand that he is being USED by these companies? Well, that was X's biggest gripe. He contends that I'm just impossible for a guy to live with, due to my aversion to anything that I deem to be objectifying. I didn't start out being like that in our relationship, I just slowly starting noticing him dumbly staring at women when we were out and about. I noticed him being mesmerized during a token sex scene in a movie. But never, ever was he interested in staring dumbly at me. I probably became jealous of the cheerleaders he drooled over and looked at on the internet all the time.

Add to that his refusal to get a job, help take care of daily upkeep of the house, and complaining about how he was "meant for more" than being trapped in a non-rockstar existence, you have a ruined marriage. So I wasn't perfect.

I don't think I will ever be a good wife again. I still grow uncomfortable and a bit upset every time I see those cheerleaders X loved to ogle. I still avoid movies with sexually explicit scenes. It brings back bad memories. I don't believe it's normal for men to be preoccupied with the body parts of women other than their partners. I think it shows immaturity or a lack of respect, which is immature. So I'm impossible.

I guess I just have to accept that I'm ALWAYS going to be alone/single. I would definitely rather be alone than stuck with someone like X. Even if the guy had a job, I still wouldn't want him. It does suck being alone and not having someone to cook for and take care of and love, but it doesn't suck as much as loving someone who can't love you back.

I have friends who would disagree with that statement. One friend of mine has been unhappily (IMO) married for 12 years. Her husband is the epitome of what I would call a loser. When he is not working, he spends most of his time at one of a few bars. He holds down his job, but he ignores her most of the time. They don't do anything together. But they are married, and it's a partnership that she just doesn't want to give up. One time, I arrived at their house. We had made plans to spend the entire day shopping at a new mall. I rang the doorbell and knocked, but there was no answer. I could barely make out their forms through the glass paned door, which provided a skewed view of the back yard through the sliding glass patio door. He handed her a cup of coffee and casually placed his arm around her shoulder for a few seconds before sitting down across from her. I realized that this is enough to keep her there.

I wondered if I would have ever divorced X if he had ever touched me like that. I am not sure. Wow, your husband touching you without you touching him first? Unheard of. Oh well, I'll never know now. If I were to bet on it, I wouldn't bet that this would have stopped the wheels from turning, but it might have made them turn much more slowly.

I don't know about him, but I was happy for the most part, until I realized that he was philosophically opposed to getting a job and until he started to realize that I expected him to get a job. We owned a home that was perfect for us. We were so proud of it, too. We even had our wedding reception in our back yard. It was beautiful to us. I loved working on the yard, in the garden, in the kitchen. I loved everything about it. To say that I miss my life before would be a gross understatement.

One thing is for sure. Happiness would not have been a possibility if I had been required to be the breadwinner. I wonder why I hated being the breadwinner so much. Lots of women and men don't have a problem with it. Am I too selfish or self-centered?

I've spoken with three people this morning, all of them either close friends or family. I have not had the nerve to admit why I'm distant and agitated. I have made excuses that I'm busy so I don't have to talk to anybody. I can't wait until I go back to work.

Lazy morning

This morning I woke up, brewed some coffee, and ate my morningstar sausage sandwich while listening to NPR and perusing my day planner. Oddly, the day planner has nothing down for me to do today.




I spent a few minutes thinking of things to do. Among my ideas were:


Get appointment with a therapist like my boss told me to do
Go on a nice run (it's only about 100 degrees out there at 6:30 AM)
Look for a different car so I can stay in debt for another five years
Clean apartment

Clearly, there are plenty of things to do. But what did I do instead after all of this coffee and thought? I plopped right down here in front of the computer to check TMZ and make sure they still have that crazy criminal safely locked up.

Then of course, I had to check out all of my other favorite sites. Here I sit, an HOUR later. I feel like I'm playing hooky from jr high. I feel like I'm getting away with something, but that something is not worth it.

If I had any money at all, I'd do my laundry. Or I'd run over to the nearest coffee shop for some sweet pastry thing. That would make me feel SO PRODUCTIVE.

My boss took my work calendar from me the other day, saying, "You can have it back after your days off." I was forced to take a few days off, why I don't know. How am I supposed to get any work done if I have days off? I'm losing precious time. I don't have any motivation to do anything now that there is no work to do.

Yesterday, I had several errands to run. Everywhere, there were darling houses and condos for sale. I wished that I had a down payment. I drove past beautiful homes with neatly manicured lawns. How do these people afford these houses? It occurred to me that it's probably because it's a married couple, both working. Two incomes make it much easier to save for a house.

I can't think of anything I would like more than a house of my OWN, so if I want to bring a dog home I can. So if I want to have friends over for a Brandy Alexander in my back yard, I can. If I want to have my nieces and nephews over to play dodge ball I can. If I want to choose between linoleum, pergo bamboo or wood, I can.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

Grandma Mary's Punishment


Every time anyone got in trouble at my grammy's house, she reacted the same exact way: She herded everybody into the breakfast room and made us sit at the table as she stripped it of her beautiful lace tablecloth. We were obliged to fold our arms on the table and rest our head on them, and in unison recite this prayer for whatever length of time suited her. We HATED it. I regularly cried tears of self-pity, and drooled on the beautiful mahogany table top.

But now I love it, and when I have a bad day, I put my head on my desk (or the steering wheel of my car since I'm usually in traffic), and quietly recall its simple wisdom. I thank her and bless her all the time for this loving "punishment."


Teach me, my Lord, to be sweet and gentle in all the events of life: in disappointments, in the thoughtlessness of others, in the insincerity of those I trusted, in the unfaithfulness of those on whom I relied.
Let me put myself aside, to think of the happiness of others, to hide my little pains and heartaches, so that I may be the only one to suffer from them.
Teach me to profit by the suffering that comes across my path Let me so use it that it may mellow me, not harden or embitter me; that it may make me patient, not irritable; that it may make me broad in my forgiveness, not narrow, haughty, and overbearing.
May no one be less good for having come within my influence, no one less pure, less true, less kind, less noble for having been a fellow-traveler in our journey towards eternal life. As I go my rounds from one distraction to another, let me whisper from time to time a word of love to Thee. May my life be lived in the supernatural, full of power for good, and strong in its purpose of sanctity.

My Lucky Day!

Today, I got an email saying I was randomly picked to receive a GRAND PRIZE: The Smart Traveler's Passport: 399 Tips from Seasoned Travelers from a contest-of-sorts at the travel blog Gadling's. Awhile back, I submitted a story of one of my MANY travel follies and promptly forgot about it the contest.

I don't do it for the recognition. I'm just happy if I can somehow put a smile on one person's face.... Ok, that's crap. I really wanted this book because my pattern is usually to make a mistake and THEN learn my lesson, instead of doing things right the first time round. And obviously my own clumsiness and bad luck amuse the hell out of me. That's pretty much what this whole blog is about.

So I just called up my brother to let him know that I won something today. He's buying a couple of extra tickets using MY lucky number, which has never been particularly lucky, but perhaps that's because it's always used on an unlucky day.

We discussed whether we'll be taking the annuity or the lump sum. Looks like this time, it will be the annuity. All I care about is my trip around the world for a year. He's more practical, thinking that he might have to take the annuity for his kids' sake. He wants them to be free of money worries for the rest of their lives. Yeah, I can just see my niece, partying all night, hitting curbs with her Mercedes, and running around saying, "That's hot" all over the place. Sigh.

I'm also concerned about how much I'll give to my favorite charities every year.

I haven't been able to give to them for a few years, but I'm sure glad we have them around. When I get my annuity, I'll divide it in half . I'll keep $220,000 to live on and give $100,000 to Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, $100,000 to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary, and I'll start my own nonprofit for a project that a co-worker and I are kicking around. It won't cost much to start up, because we want to get our boss to allow us some unused space in our building. But if I can put $20,000 into it every year, it will really help.

Is $220,000 enough for a trip around the world? I'll have to take the time to figure that out someday.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Life. Serious stuff.

This is so it.
I love my apartment but I'm so DAMNED tired of not being able to have a dog if I want one.

Last year at around this time, I found Frankie. I was working, but of course that didn't stop me from grabbing this little puppy, who was chasing trucks on a busy road in front of a food bank. I know the people at the food bank, and they told me he had been there a few days, probably dumped over there. Bad neighborhoods seem to be dumping grounds for unwanted pets.

Well, I put little Frankie in the passenger seat, where he sat politely smiling, as if to say, "I can't wait to see what you have in store for me!" I didn't have a plan. I was moving. My husband and I were splitting up. I had no place to take the dog. So we got to the office, I gave him a bath, nagged everyone I knew to give him a chance (failed), and ended up taking him to my house. Officially I had three days to get out. Most of my stuff was already moved to my current place. It was a tough time for everyone, especially me. I took Frankie to work with me a couple days later. A colleague offered to "foster" him until I could find a proper home. He looked SO cute! I had bought him a matching red leash and collar set.

All of a sudden, a guy I hardly knew walked past me in the hallway. "Wow, that is the perfect dog. That's the exact dog I always wanted as a kid." I told him that Frankie was an orphan and currently interviewing parents. He took Frankie home that day. Changed his name too. WTF is wrong with the name Frankie??? It's ok, they are happy with the new name so I won't complain.

A few months later, I found another dog. This was the perfect dog for ME. I had seen him lounging and constantly scratching his dusty hide on a barren, dirt-filled corner yard for a couple of weeks. He barked at me at first. After awhile, I threw treats across the street to him.

One day, I tried to talk to one of the occupants of the house on Frankie's property. She didn't speak any English. I called my brother, who probably explained to her in Spanish that his sister is a nut case, and wants the mutt that won't leave their front yard. She picked Frankie up, threw him in my car, and calmly strode into the house.

I only have pictures on my cell phone, but he looked like this dog, except he was all white and weighed about 30 lbs. He was medium-sized. I named him Frankie. He chased Kitty whenever he had a chance. He had such a great personality! He loved to run and play. He liked to just sit near me while I was playing Scrabble or drinking my coffee. He was soft, too. I bought him a matching red leash and collar set. I took him for a run twice a day, and a walk once a day. He made friends with the other dogs at the park. We existed in this blissful state for close to a week before my landlord told me I had until Tuesday to get rid of him. It didn't help that Frankie barked at him. My landlord is a REAL nut case.

I found a lady who ran a small rescue. She inspected him, got him groomed, and adopted him to a guy who'd had a dog just like Frankie for 18 years. The dog had died six months before, and the guy was looking for a rescue dog of that same breed. He thought it was fate. Sigh.

Now this little girl. Francis. She's gone! I didn't get a chance to find her a home. I would have kept her if I could have.

I want my own house. It's going to take me FOREVER to save up money for a down payment, but I just have to find a way! I'll start selling everything. I don't have much that's really worth anything, but I bet if I sold everything and saved up, I'd have enough within a year or so. I wonder if it's alright to take money out of your retirement account to put it down on a house.


Today I spent a grand total of three hours away from my apartment. I was late when I left, and I'm always late when I meet this particular friend for some reason.
I was in such a hurry that I made the mistake of leaving the door to my closet open. When I got home, Kitty was asleep on my NEWLY washed, ANTIQUE embroidered sheets that I had JUST folded and stacked! I screamed, "Kitty! What are you doing?" She lifted up her head, blinking. She shook her head, yawned, meowed in that menacing way only she can, and made a beeline for the bathroom sink.

I turned the faucet to drip, griping at her the whole time. She meowed back, probably saying something like, "Shut up and turn the faucet on more, bitch."

Just now, I looked around to see what Kitty is up to. She has managed to find the ONE spot in the house that I would prefer she didn't lounge: my black and brown tennis dress that I JUST pulled out of the dryer and spread flat to finish drying. Sigh... Nothing like white cat hair all over your black tennis dress. That's hot.

She's nothing like my other cat, who Kitty has outlived by a long shot. Cleo came into the picture when Kitty was about 3, and died 8 years later. She had a kidney problem, which was misdiagnosed by the vet, who gave her some stuff that aggravated that condition and killed her.

She always chose the most unique places to snooze. She was like a statue, always so still and quiet. She never meowed like SOMEBODY I know. Of course I miss her. She was a dainty, tiny little cat with golden eyes and pink skin under her short white coat. I miss her. Kitty does not.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

More bitching about people

I guess I must have been depressed yesterday. Cruelty brings me down. People can be such assholes sometimes. Why am I burdened with this sense of sadness when I see suffering right in front of me? Why am I ever the only person around who DOES anything when it is happening? If I could shut the emotion off, I definitely would. It makes life hard.

Last year I was walking across a busy street at rush hour. I witnessed a woman step off the corner I was approaching and a truck slammed right into her. She FLEW through the air. There was blood everywhere. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of people around. She was sprawled out in the middle of the street and NOBODY but me stopped to help. Cars just kept driving past. The guy who hit her parked at the end of the block and just stood around waiting for the cops I guess. It seemed like forever before the paramedics came. The woman was in and out of consciousness, moaning; trying to talk, but it didn't matter because I don't speak spanish and she didn't speak english. I held her hands, tried to calm her when she tried to sit up and couldn't, and yelled at other people to stop staring and do something. The hot summer pavement was cooking her skin, so I somehow got a towel from a driver waiting at the light and got it beneath her. When the paramedics came, I looked around and it appeared that everyone seemed to be feeling inconvenienced at least, curious at best.

When I got back to the office, I as all bloody. My clothes were ruined. The smell made me sick. I thought, "Maybe that's why nobody wanted to help. They knew they'd stink for the rest of the day."

That's why someday I'm going to find a peaceful place to live.

When I win the lottery

I am going to pretend that my brother just won the lottery. He buys tickets twice a week. I have bought perhaps $5's worth in my lifetime because I'm always way too poor to waste my money on that. I'm just counting on him to win. Let's say he gets a cash pay-out of 3 million...

First thing I'd do is go on a trip around the world. It would take me at LEAST a year. I want to go to all the places I've read about since childhood. That means Bath in England for sure. That's where everyone in Jane Austen's novels always went on vacation. I would find out where all the places are in England in which my very favorite novels are cast and check it all out.

Then I'd have to check out Ireland for awhile. Then France. All over France. I'm going to brush up on my French, although I was a terrible student in jr high, high school and the one year of it I had to take in college. Je ne parles pas francaise? eh. I'll get a French friend who isn't a complete snob.

My mom thinks Spain is beautiful. I might check it out too. I'm going EVERYWHERE, except I'm going to try to avoid those places which are cruel to animals, so maybe I will have to skip Spain.

After my big trip, I'm going to settle down in a nice little cabin in the mountains. I don't want to be around anyone unless I invite them. This week has been a bitch. Whenever the weather gets to be this hot, people start abandoning their pets. I hate to see animals suffer. I have been trying for the past week to find a foster home for a dog near my office who was abandoned in a yard when the "owners" moved. She was the sweetest dog! A lab mix, friendly, happy, and about six months old. I have been putting food and water out for her, but I think the pound came and picked her up. They are awful to the dogs at the pound. I hate it. I want to find a place where they don't hurt animals all the time. I hate seeing it. It makes me feel hopeless for the world. And myself.

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Frank FINALLY finds a woman - not me.

Frank mentioned previously in March and namely here.

He's a bit of a wimp. I'm sure glad Frank has a new woman. I knew something was up, because all of a sudden, he began to ignore me. I have seen this before too many times not to recognize it. In a way, it's very admirable. If I were dating a guy, I would hope that all the chicks at work or at the gym who he constantly attempts to bed would suddenly cease to exist. Yes, at first I was confused. Then I was annoyed. We women are very superficial. We like attention, what can I say? I'm used to getting attention too, probably because I am the youngest child and I got ALL the attention growing up.

Truth be told, I don't have to do anything to get attention from men if I'm in a room with a bunch of co-workers. For example, when I attend training there are usually 50 or so people around who I have never seen before. Half are guys. Most are married. Married guys are friendly just like single guys. When it comes to the single guys, I notice that since I tend to ignore all men, only the most aggressive of them actually approach me. Most of them usually have huge egos. I can't stand men with huge egos. So I hardly make lifelong friends at training. I get along with other women, unless they think they are in competition with me for men's attention. I refuse to compete, but I also refuse to befriend women who compete for men's attention.

But anyhow, Frank was acting strangely. I wondered if he had been seeing someone. But then I thought, "Nah! Who?! He's so...... " and I mentally explored everything wrong with him. Then today, he just HAD to drop it in during a four-way conversation. He and a "friend," "she," and "her." Gotcha. It was a very calculated move. I think that Frank thinks that he is getting some kind of revenge on me for the New Year's Eve debacle. I understand his need, but I don't think it's fair. Still, I am happy for Frank if he is getting some. I think it's been a long time.

Sunday, June 3, 2007

I hardly ever take these tests, but here goes my results for one of them.

ISTJ - "Trustee". Decisiveness in practical affairs. Guardian of time- honored institutions. Dependable. 11.6% of total population.
Free Jung Personality Test (similar to Myers-Briggs/MBTI)

ISTJ

responsible, planner, private, loner tendencies, perfectionist, organized, detail oriented, organized, would rather be friendless than jobless, realistic, observer, clean, focused, does not talk about feelings, finisher, punctual, private, does not appreciate strangeness, not adventurous, not spontaneous, follows the rules, dutiful, avoids mistakes, conventional, likes solitude, insensitive to the hardships of others, prepared, anti-tattoos, things rules are important, cautious, security seeking, prepares for worst case scenarios, logical, analytical, does not accept apologies easily, hard working

uh-oh, there's a typo up there. I know I have lots of typos, but dude, I don't make a profession out of my typing! "things rules are important." I don't see anything up there that stands out as UNTRUE. I'm not THAT much of a loner. I do tend to spend lots of time alone when I'm out of money or overworked. I need to decompress, and being around people causes me to use up more energy.

favored careers:

data analyst, scientist, researcher, engineer, financial planner, statistician, office worker, government employee, lab technician, nuclear engineer, office manager, biomedical engineer, account manager, ceo, investment banker, analyst, academic, systems analyst, pharmacy technician, network admin, genetics researcher, research assistant, strategist

What I find hilarious about the above list is that one of the above really is my career!

disfavored careers:

entertainer, artist, filmmaker, musician, actor, fashion desinger, singer, music journalist, comedian, massage therapist, photographer, dj, model, author, bartender, painter, school counselor

totally. No way could I be a model or artist. Or any of these.

Friday, June 1, 2007

A Striking and Elegant Photo Gallery of the Great Audrey Hepburn

"I really didn't know that much about this amazing actress, but these are some stunning black and white photos of this long lost film darling. I haven't seen her in many films, but wow. These are some great shots."



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Wow, here's a first. Subject happens to be a female. Most comments are positive. There must be some big wrestling thing on tv tonight or the majority of diggers would have been busy posting the same old sexually demeaning comments.

Quite refreshing to know that AH isn't TOTALLY disdained by the modern guy/man/boy/whatever a digger is???