It has been a while. I needed a break. Mostly from the endless repetition of whatever is going on in my head. And with that accomplished, thanks to a change in scenery, and some remarkable displays of family friction and DRAMA, all is back to a nice, quiet normal.

So today is kind of a day for reflection. Mainly because it is that artificially generated new year eve. I consider most calendar constructs to be artifice- I really don't see much use to them- kind of like the fiction we call money. An agreed upon game of pretend, really. Like religion. But I don't really feel like going there right now. Too fraught. Had enough of that over the break. See DRAMA above.

Mundane things that have an effect: moved the computer that I write on downstairs so that I can be part of the life of the house. Moved my work station upstairs, so that when I work from home, I am more secluded. Shifted all the furniture in the living room around and now have much better flow. I can watch the squirrels in the trees and on the deck eating peanuts while I write. And while I play online.

The foot of snow that we got has pretty much left us. I am guessing that there will be another baby boom in 9 months. Not in our lives, but overall. It was bogged down here badly. The mayor of Seattle had the stupid audacity to give himself and the city's response to the storm a "B" grade. I would contest that. With under 30 snow-plows, Seattle is under equipped for any storm of merit. And for it to take over a week to dig people out is just not a "B" effort. Hell, I understand the dynamics of hills. But seriously, there is really no reason that those plows aren't getting to bare pavement when it's soft snow. I have never seen such feeble snow-removal attempts. It's rather sad, really.

Kman has another week off- he had to take 2 weeks off as the company is having some financial difficulties. The round of layoffs is still fresh, and I'm pretty sure that most of the employees there have morales in the gutter. It's a real shame. But he's cool with staying home. He has been futzing around on the computer, playing in his man cave, and overall shovelling snow.

And I have been trying to come up with some lauditory resolutions. And nothing really stands out. I was already working on stuff that needs to be done, and plan on proceeding in those areas. No, I am not saying that perfection needs no polishing. Far from it. See the artificial construct comment above. I don't see the need to all of a sudden declare new and interesting ways to change my life. I've been doing that for a while. And it appears to be working. So no real necessity for the DRAMA of brand-spanking-new resolutions.

Now I think it is time for more coffee. And maybe a light snack.

Oh, been so quiet here. Not because I lack a lot to say, perish that thought. But mostly because life on the outside got off-the-charts hectic. And it was fun, I must say, for the most part. But soon I will be breathing deeply again, and will have time to account for some of the above. Viva time off!

Started something new today. Not that I am enjoying it. Bloody well hate it. I am getting up an hour early and going to the fucking gym. It's about the only way I can make myself do the right thing, fitness-wise. And this way I have Kman as a coach getting my ass out of bed. But it sucks. And there you have it.

Last night I watched Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten. It was interesting as hell. I had tried to read that really, really bad bio about the man that was written recently by some hack who knew him. It was all about the hack, and very little about the man, himself. So I returned it to the library. The documentary, on the other hand, was quite a lot about the man, himself. And despite glossing over his prodigious drug use (by my standards, any wayz), I think it really captured a time and a mentality. Some of which I was very interested in experiencing, as I didn't get it the first time around. Not like a London punk scene didn't hold its charms for a Montana girl from the middle classes, but I sure as hell didn't understand fully the underlying ethos. No fucking way, man. I was too safe. Too secure. And that is not something that lends itself to being part of the scene. So yes, I had some of the clothes, which I intersperced with more moderate rocker wear. But I didn't have the anger at the same things. Mine was more personal. And more internal. Because all teenagers are angry, doncha know. Only some make music happen out of it.

So somewhere along the line there were a few things lost. Not necessarily missed, though. Just lost. In a couple of cases certainly for the better. Like the sense of entitlement. That won't be missed. Nor will the angry uncontained outbursts. The anger still percolates, but there is editing.

What will likely be missed is the sense that anything is possible. That dreams are accessible, and that they will be easy. That is stupid, no doubt. But it does make the attempt that much more rational and desirable. Creators always say that they never would've tried if they had known how bloody difficult it would be. So that kind of ignorance is a good thing within this context.

Also to be missed is the sense of invention. That helped with trying new things. Ah, experience. My friend and foe. My teacher and my enemy. Gotta love that.

Am mostly through Malcolm Gladwell's new book, and am finding myself depressed as hell. Read it and figure out why for yourself. It's all about success. And currently, I am not up to my own standards. It happens, right?

Ah, the weight of years. Heavy, heavy. Ditto the rain and the cloud cover. Connected? Perhaps.

And there it is. Time to step away from the computer and get things done.

On the subject of stars:

Back in the day, again, we had a good friend who designed and built his own observatory in the back yard. It was a 16" telescope, computer driven, in a shed with a retractable roof. He was damned good at spotting with it. Could hone in on a constellation without a chart, just by eyeballing it.

In Bozeman, unlike Seattle, there isn't often fog or clouds in the night sky during the summer. It gets cold as hell, compared to the daytime temps. Huge swings of temperature, when you think about it. From the 90s or even on occasion the low 100s down to the 50s and 40s. Often.

We were in his back yard, with another friend's dad and his 15" telescope. It was one of those clear, crystalline chilly Montana summer nights. And dark out there in the Four Corners neighborhood where he lived. We waited while the guys set up the telescopes, and waited. The dad had his chart. Our friend was swooping between self-named constellations, and showing us cool stuff. Like the "teapot constellation" aka Sagittarius. And the "cheerio galaxy"... um, I got nothing scholarly there to report- only it did look like a cheerio, and was cool.

The dad had some really amazing stuff to show us, and then the whole conversation bogged around telescopes and equipment. Which figures. But was boring. It was late. The beer was gone. I wanted to go home. So we did.

I realized last night that I haven't told a story in a long time. That this has become more of a journal than I had originally intended. So here is a story.

Back in the day, because Once upon a time is a little worn out, we would drive. When it was dark, and we were bored, and it was too hot to sleep, we would drive. The car had broken air conditioning, so the windows would be rolled down.

The city had a roar to it, despite being extremely spread-out. There was a constant roar. Only when we moved away, did I notice it fully. Mainly in its absence. The roar was cars, air conditioners, people, just noise in general. There was a heat too. Cement holds the heat almost better than anything else. And then at night it radiates. We would drive through cool patches, like the zoo area and where Papago golf course is. It smelled green there. Not dry and dusty like the rest of the place. Broken glass glittered in the gutters, and little tufts of dust would shift across the road when a breeze stirred.

The further out towards the suburbs we went, the cooler the air got, as we got beyond the miles and miles of buildings and apartment complexes. We knew where the old orange groves were, and loved to drive by them in the spring when there were blossoms. I'm pretty sure they are what made me sneeze, but they smelled so pretty, and it was cooler there.

We drove by the cotton fields. We drove by the corn. We drove as far as we could, in an attempt to see the desert stars. But the glare of the city lights made this impossible. Until the night we drove north. After about 40 miles, the hills cut the sky off to the south. And we saw the stars.

When I was a child, we went to Phoenix in the summer. I remember driving into the city at night, while lying in the back seat, looking out the back window. And seeing an endless expanse of stars. So very close. So incredibly bright.

When we drove north, we saw this. It is breathtaking, and unexpected. It was also chilly there. We weren't used to normal evening temperatures. And we got cold quickly. But it was worth it, because we now know what it is like to see stars. More stars than anywhere else. More stars than is possible. With a dull orange glow in the southern sky. Where home lay. And the heat. And the dust.

Watched the most AMAZING documentary last night. I cannot recommend it highly enough. It is one of the reasons I love Art History, and History in general. The impact of a few individuals on generations of people....

"The Rape of Europa." All about the impact on art of WWII. Not a cheery tale. But certainly one of hope, and one of remembrance. It was amazing. Just fucking amazing. I think that several people on my Christmas list are going to get a copy. None of them read here, so I'm not ruining any surprises.

But seriously, it was worth watching. The sheer impact of the war, and the catastrophic losses that happened versus the contributions of hundreds are just riveting. Bloody amazing.

And now I have another installment of the documentary PR series on the Queen to watch. I love it mainly because it is cool as hell to see the palaces, etc. in HD, and I think it's really interesting to see the spin on it all. Notice I called it PR? Right. I'm under no illusions that every frame is deliberate and on message.

I just don't understand how people can visit the woman without being drawn to the art on the walls. Just some amazing stuff. Much more interesting than the little lady with the incredible pearls.

On that note, I want a really nice graduated set of pearls now. Nothing on the Queen's scale- those suckers are worth more than the combined value of my family's houses. But something nice and elegant. That I can then wear with my signature v-neck t-shirts and jeans.

News item: Barbara Bush has ulcer surgery. Pity. That's too bad, really- especially around the holidays.

The item that I think is so ironic/funny/etc. or just worth mentioning is that in the MSNBC article (look it up yourselves, I am too lazy to link), they call her a "sunny" presence. WTF?! Barbara Bush is about as fucking "sunny" as a sulfuric acid laced Bloody Mary. I think that she is one of the scariest women ever to inhabit the White House. She produced two presidents, and basically was the force to be reckoned with in the family. Nothing "sunny" about that. I think she has more in common with Rose Kennedy than anyone else, and I have never heard old Rose called "sunny."

Makes me wonder about the age of the person who wrote the article. It would make sense if he/she hadn't been around during the first Bush presidency. Then they have a good reason to be ignorant.

Fucking "sunny"??? Sweet Jesus.

The other night we had dinner with old friends. We have a history with these folks. They have been good to us, and they have inadvertently been bad to us.

And now it starts again. Seems one extended an offer to Kman to be partners in business. That is fine in theory, but then the nightmares started for me. Quite literally, and I can't completely blame the Thai food. More like my subconscious telling me that this is an extremely bad idea. At least at face value.

Many questions need answers. Many decisions must be made. The irony is that we are now at the point in our life where finances aren't a tremendous struggle. And we can breathe. I don't see any sense in returning to another reality that way. Just none. But I have to fight to be open to alternatives if they are ... reasonable. And not let my nightmares get in the way of Kman's dreams, if that is the inclination. Just have to keep the level head and make sure some safety nets are intact.

But that is all ahead of myself. Nothing has been determined. Nothing has been offered. Right now it is just dinner talk. Perhaps I'll get lucky and that is where it will stay.

It was a very nasty dream, by the way. With very, very clear messages that even a neophyte dream analyzer could parse out.

so the plan is to confront the demons before they hatch any more nefarious plots.

I love the word nefarious. It reminds me of 19th Century serial novels. The kind that
people waited years to finish. They stood by the banks of the rivers waiting for the packet
boats to deliver the mail, hoping that the next issue of the paper with the next chapter
would arrive today.

Nefarious plots. Right. Part of my general persecution mania. Didn't know I had that? Well,
you haven't been paying attention, have you. There's the persecution problem. There's also
the general feeling of unease. It happens. And I have learned to place it under protective custody
and ignore it. My own personal Guantanamo, if you will. Only with candy. Because that would
be inhumane. Denying anyone candy.

Seriously, it all is just fine. And will be fine. Mainly because big perspective says that this too
will pass, and I will likely not remember any of it in 5 years. Or sooner if there is a head
injury involved. Not that we're hoping for that. No, we are not.

Again with the cycles of anxiety. Coming off of people around me in waves.

Or more like a mist. Like that old Stephen King story.

The one that scared the hell out of me when I was young.

The one that was made into a regrettable movie that I never say.

Which is ok, really. Because it would've likely made me anxious.

Something that is unnecessary, as I am already anxious.

Because it is in the air. Like Spring. Only not like Spring.

Or love. Only not like love.

More like some kind of infection. Like a virus. Only we don't use that

word at work. It makes people nervous. Or anxious.

Been blurring the margins a bit lately. Between here and places where I have outed myself officially, and likely forever, it gets confusing. Included in the outing are people I haven't spoken with in over 20 years. That's not to say that I hate them, or anything like that. More of a disinclination to open that can o' worms. And deal with what crawls out. Like the past. Like the ghost of me past. Oh my, yes.

And this place gets to become the fortress of solitude in a way. My secret haven of gloom, doom, turbulence and strife. Or whatever. Aren't you lucky?

I suspect not so much. But then, neither am I. Not really. Never could rely on luck. Too abysmally unreliable. Good in a pinch some times.

So there it is. And there I am. Out in the open, exposed to the light. Shining on.

He thinks I'm kidding....yeah, right

Today Kman went to the store. He was looking for work pants. Specifically, Dickies. Because I told him to quit ruining his good jeans. So he looked. And then decided that Dickies fit like shit, and wouldn't work. So the salesman recommended Carhartts. And he was sold. He now owns a pair of fresh, crisp and black Carhartts. He can safely visit Montana and look like a man. Look like a city man, what with the black and all- not beige enough to fit in squarely in hometown. But otherwise, he can look like a city-folk native.

But the best part, the part that I save for last is that what he really wanted to buy was a pair of bib overalls. Oh yes, my friends. My husband decided that those were the finest pair of pants that he had ever worn. There is nothing to bind, and a handy place to put tools. Ah yes, he has truly given up. Truly and forever. I told him that bib overalls were for fat chicks back home when they couldn't close the waistbands on their pants any more. This can of course be handy if one is pregnant. But I saw it often in college. With the girls who ordered pizza a few too many times. Sweats or bibs. Lovely look, really, when combined with a frizzy permed pony tail and a loosely-fitting t shirt. Ah, good times.

So he has a goal. Bib overalls, or bust. I did suggest that he go for the ones with the little stripes, so he can play train conductor. Not just farmer. Or stoner- those little pockets are handy for all kinds of supplies, no?

Watched a documentary on Jonestown last night. Disturbing as hell. And not just because of the dead bodies lying bloated in the fields. They did a good job of rolling out the facts in a progression that was more of a death march than anything else. The survivors were the surprise. The events were known. The psychology was hinted at, but it would've been good to hear a bit more about that. I suppose, though, that the survivors who participated wouldn't have appreciated a more in-depth psychological profile. Since they would be the topic and all.

Also I noticed that they barely glossed over the sex abuse allegations. Interesting, since that is where journalists seem to focus nowdays. And all that.

Not recommeded prior to going to bed, though. Leads to interesting REM activity.

I did the sickest thing imaginable last night. I started up in Facebook. For a few reasons, but suffice it to say, I am not overly comfortable with the whole thing. I just have a horrible tendency to get overly involved in those kinds of things. Luckily Myspace is a crappy enough interface that I don't deal with it that often- mostly for info on band ticket pre-sales and book signings. But otherwise I ignore it.

But this Facebook thing is something else. And it is crossing a few lines- between work and life- that I am not all that happy about. But I am doing it. Because I think that the reticence that I have towards letting co-workers into my life might be a tad...unnecessary.

I have also been hitting Linked in pretty heavily too. Just because it is more of a tool towards work stuff, I am more ok with it. It has to be a boundary issue. Something about carving out my place, and not wanting to share. I'm not sure about it all, and don't feel like diving deeply into that spot in my psyche in a public forum. But it is about privacy, keeping my self apart and being safe here. But that isn't always the answer. And therefore Facebook. But my overwhelming feeling, besides delight at seeing some old friends, is kind of ick. Not feeling the joy of being out there in the world. Not feeling that at all.

This forum will likely remain as anonymous as I can keep it. Just saying.

News roundup:

They handed down the layoffs at Kman's work yesterday. He was spared. A couple of our friends were not. About a third of the company was sacked. It was sad. He is working on his resume.

I spent the last two days in an intensive training workshop. I learned a couple of very annoying communication habits that I have. These are good to know. Now if I can just remember them when it counts.

We have a neutered male cat that thinks it is fun to red rocket one of the other male neutered cats. This is disturbing. But probably not worth fussing over, as they are cats.

We have an outburst of raccoons in our yard. It doesn't help that on election night, when we were well in our cups, Kman decided it would be a good idea to feed them bread. It was cute. And now they have moved in, with their kids, extended family and trailers.

And hey, guess what! It's raining!

Ok, so maybe the bottle of champagne on top of the large bottle of beer was overkill on a Tuesday night. But it was worth it. And it was deserved. Because we hadn't celebrated like that since oh....1996 or thereabouts. And it was the same. A bottle of champagne. Because it was important. And it was finally happening.

So perhaps I am feeling a little feeble this morning. I am ok with that. Because I feel like something important happened last night. When I was little, I saw people rioting on tv. I saw soldiers dying on tv. I saw a president discraced on tv. I saw too much to really comprehend, but now that I am an adult, I know what I saw. And I know what I hate about what I saw. And I see how very far we have come.

Earlier in the campaign, I heard a woman on tv talking about how much the new president "scared her". And I thought, "good." You ought to be scared. Because you are also being challenged. Face the fear, and determine whether or not it is a good fear. Determine whether or not it is a fear based on logic and actual self-preservation, or if instead it is a fear based on what you are being told. If the latter is true, then you are pitiful and need to man up. If the former is true, then there are one hell of a lot of very deluded people in this country right now. I am falling towards the latter in a big way. Some how I doubt our new president is a bear. Or a snake. Or a poisonous spider. I don't think he is a tornado, a hurricane or a killing ice-storm. So nothing to fear there, folks. Embrace change, because the stalemate that we have been enduring hasn't exactly brought prosperity and joy to the country. It's like that, you know. Study history, and you will see what I mean. Patterns and their recognition. Rises and falls.

But the important thing is to shake it up from time to time. That is very, very important.

And now I must pop an asperin, and go to work. And try not to gloat- that is not being a good winner. And the other side went down with dignity- we raised our glasses in honor of a very good concession speech. If he had used that voice throughout the campaign, we might've seen a different outcome. I'm just sayin.

Oh, he was an angry child. Just like that. And it didn't go away. It wasn't that he was unloved, far from it. There was something deeper. Something more reliable. But otherwise hard to fathom. And it caused him endless difficulties. Because even though he seemed funny and kind and easy to be around, over time if someone got too close, they encountered the anger. It was a wall. And his fortress of solitude. But he was no superman, and being rejected made him more angry. It was always perplexing. And never resolved. The end.

So it's all about getting back in the habits again. They were good habits, too. Like going to the gym daily. And writing daily- both here and elsewhere. And eating the right things. Though that one slid on occasion. Usually only once a week, though.

And where are we now? Not where we were. Not in a bad place, exactly- more of a holding pattern than anything else. But holding patterns are not momentum, and they are exhausting to maintain. So it's forward. That's what we're after. Forward. Into the void. Why the hell not? At least I haven't been there before. It's always a new void on a new day. Gotta be full of surprises, no? They might be subtle- like the pattern of black birds flying across the dusky sky, or the smell of damp chilly morning.

But those surprises are interesting. And often good. I'll take it. With interest.

Now THIS is good news.

From MSNBC this morning:

"It was nice and crisp gettin' off the airplane ... it reminded me a lot of Alaska, so I put my warm jacket on. And it is my own jacket," Palin said at a rally at Sioux City West High School. "It doesn't belong to anybody else."

Palin's quip came amid growing questions about her campaign and tensions among the traveling staff. The Politico reported Saturday that Palin had lost confidence in some of her senior aides and begun relying more on her own instincts.

The good news- she's relying on her instincts. I like that. Because I believe that those same instincts got her into a little trouble back in the day when she decided to act all vengeful on her ex-brother-in-law, et. al. I think her instincts aren't horribly refined, and appear a tad ham-fisted. This is very good news, indeed.

And that's probably the only political commentary I will make this election. I've been trying to stay the hell out of it. But I will make this categorical statement. I have never, nor will I ever vote for a crooked Arizona politician. That was a decision made many years ago when I lived there. And nothing has changed on that front.

If you want facts, here is a link, and an idea of where I get mine from:

http://www.phoenixnewtimes.com/1994-09-08/news/opiate-for-the-mrs/

To the vast aggravation of it all, yesterday my mentor took a good look at my resume for the first time. She is helping me revise. And she said, "just in looking at it, it's obvious that you are in the wrong job." Thank you. Thanks so very much. And I really do mean that with some sincerity. Because I was beginning to wonder.

Not that comfort isn't good- it's just deadly in my world. I am surrounded by people who do what I do, and have forever, and so on, the end. And they drive me batshit. They are often bitter. They are often chock full o' noblesse oblige. By proxy, doncha know. And I can see the appeal. It hits me sometimes.

But I know better. I know that more than one more year of this gig, and it will be very bad. Very bad, indeed. A bored me is a very unhappy me. And this has all the hallmarks of being that avenue.

So, there are job rumblings that I have to deal with, for sanity's sake. But not today. Not tomorrow. In the future, but that will rush up on me without fail. No pressure, though. No pressure.

Lately it has been that holding pattern kind of thing. Just a feeling like I'm living an intermission, rather than a real life. I think it is just the aftermath of weeks of frantic activity, and showing a calm game face, despite what is going on inside. I suspect this is so. All the adrenaline is leaving the body in a burst, and I'm left without much energy for anything at the moment. Or it's the change of seasons. Or it's the new windows and the enhanced warmth and quiet. Or it's the cat. Or it's just me.

But there you have it. Mornings this week have been tough. Tougher than usual. I have never been one to spring from bed, full of energy and life. It has always been a struggle. I emerge slowly. And with reluctance. And this week has been exceptionally hard. So there it is.

The nice thing is that bossman is traveling, and there is flexibility. I can come home and work remotely if I play my cards right. Then it's all about the comfort. Throw on the jammies, turn on the tv, and monitor my email for crises. All is well. But I still have to get up in the morning. And eventually I have to stop whining about it. Because that is boring, too.

Power jockeying

So one of the things that happened this week basically confirmed a suspicion that I had. Basically I am on the leadership team for a group at my company. There by default, because I happen to be a direct report of my manager. Not because I am supposed to actually do anything special. Just because it would be needlessly rude to exclude me from the room.

Or at least that is the assumption. I do have my allies. One of them in particular has been very vocal in private with coaching me as to the prerogatives of being in the room. As well as taking the assumption that I belong there to heart.

So there was a sudden meeting yesterday. And there was an accompanying email that I was left off of. Because I was asked to call the meeting, I was also on the invitation. When I walked in the room, the bossman registered surprise, and didn't say anything. I acted like I belonged there. And the meeting progressed.

Afterwards I asked him to forward me the email. He acted shocked, but complied as he rushed to his next meeting.

I thanked him for sending it, and made sure to tell him that if he expects me to remain "on message" with the team at large (and god knows I have more visibility there than he does), I need to be in the loop. And that it is perfectly safe to trust me with this kind of thing- in fact safer if I know about it, and can not fuck things up inadvertently due to ignorance. Of course I said all of this in as diplomatic and nice a way as possible. Hopefully hiding my irritation. Because this is the kind of shit that I hate having to fight for. Total bullshit. The assumption appears to be that I can operate just fine in ignorance, and any problems that arise therein are mine to handle. I officially called shenanigans on that yesterday. We'll see if it has the desired effect.

And that was that. What my week was composed of, in a nutshell. Political jockeying. And the hope that there will be a resultant increase in information. And no, I don't take it personally, just realize that it's lower on the priority list for him, and just doesn't come naturally to his mind. I'll fix that. I have confidence. And the might of being right! Bwahahaha....

Seriously, I sometimes think that they just don't know what to think about me. And I like keeping them a little off-center that way- it is kind of fun. Shhhhhhh......

Housekeeping

We had new windows installed in La Casa. So the computer that I write on was shifted to the side of the room and turned off- since normally it sits looking out the window at the Cascades (on a clear day). Besides which, I also had another abnormally busy work week.

It appears, however, that the frenzy is coming to a close. I will have my life back to normal again. I don't quite know whether to be pleased or saddened by this. Operating on adrenaline is definitely intoxicating. But it is also exhausting. I can use both hands and count how many days in the last 2 weeks I was in bed by 8:00. Not much of a life on the side, I suspect.

So that is happening.

Other events- well nothing that I can report in an open forum. And nothing worth worrying about, either. The man himself is currently on a hike with a friend- I was invited, but laughed in his face when he said they were meeting at 7:00 AM on a SATURDAY. Fuck that noise. Not in a mean way, but really. He does know me better than that. But I do appreciate the offer.

So it's sleep in Saturday with coffee, fleece jammies, kitties, and the computer. Ah, so very cozy. And it's sunny outside. Which makes for more happiness. And we have sparkly clean windows.

It's been one of those weeks again. Was online working at 6:00 AM yesterday, because it appeared necessary. Now whether or not it actually was is another discussion entirely. Because of lack of coordination on the other end, turns out, not so much. But I was still there. And gone from the office early too. So there.

Now if I could just figure out where I hid a necklace when I went on vacation. It totally pisses me off. I was being clever. And now, since it's 3 months later, and I am finally remembering that I want to wear it, I can't figure out where the fuck I put it. Ye gads, I am an idiot. And here is your bona fide proof.

Nothing else to report here, on this end of things. Just wrapping up stuff and nonsense and trying to figure out what the hell I want to do when I grow up. Which appears to be now. Great. Thought I would have more time. But I am beginning to think that this is not the case. Maybe it's because I am around grownups all bloody day. And they take themselves and their lives very, very seriously.

So once again I point out, we live in interesting times. Like you haven't noticed. Well, if you get your news from Fox TV, like some of my more reactionary relatives, you are full of fear and angst. These are the same sillypants people who continue to send me anti-Obama spam, insisting that because it came across the interwebs, it HAS to be true. Ok, same person. Only one. And I love that person. But still, this is just silly.

And then there's the finances. The lovely thing, I got a pretty nice stock award with my annual review. And now? Well, it's not nearly as nice, as the company's stock has fallen. Substantially. Crap. I have to keep remembering, that it's a long-term thing. Not a short-term thing. And that otherwise, we are really doing well financially. For once. We appear to have finally gotten over the Montana tax- where you make about half of what the rest of the world makes, doing more work, and are expected to be grateful for a) having a job in the first place, and b) the fact that it is Montana. As if the scenery pays the fucking student loan. What a load of horseshit. If anyone doubted why we left, please re-read the above.

So then there is the rest of my interesting personal life. Actually vicarious interesting, as my own life is pretty sedate, and just fine. Wish it was the same for others. And that there were more concrete things I could do to assist. But there you have it. Geography, and the knowledge that it's just not my place.

Yes, interesting. And if I take a broad overview of it, there are some factors that seem just right about the whole thing. For example, despite how much it hurts right now, and despite the fact that it scares the hell out of significant people in my life, I can't help but be glad that the financial shenanegans of those asshats on Wall Street are being ferretted out and shut down. I have been paranoid about that whole thing for a long time. I had a job once upon a time in banking, and learned a lot about how shady and really scary that line of work is. All theory, no actual substance. And we all should know how the Emperor's new clothes turn out.

And the election. It will end some day. I don't quite understand the undecidedes. They worry me. I wonder how they make their everyday decisions. I wonder if they are undecided about many things. I would actually love to sit down and discuss this very thing with someone in that camp- not to harangue them into my way of thinking, but to understand how you get this far and still can't make up your mind. I don't understand. But I would actually like to. The good news, though, is that it will end soon. Very soon.

Beg week on our NPR station will end soon. Very soon.

I am just waiting for things to sort themselves out again, and it will return to some semblance of normality. Of this I am confident. For today.

Well, now that I have had the cat in my lap making biscuits, we are ready to start the day. It's a ritual. I drink my coffee, read websites, and he is there being happy. For him. He is an odd one. But then that goes with the definition of being a cat.

Weekend was full of sleep, reading teenage vampire books (from the library, I refuse to spend money on them), and going to the Sigur Ros concert last night. Even better seats than before. Had a couple of 21 year olds in flouncy dresses behind us. Annoyingly young. Stupid loud commentary, trying to be erudite. Only without the word erudite. Because they are unlikely to know that one. Luckily they settled down after making a couple of phone calls and were good little girls. The boys next to them were not good little anything. They kept talking in thier outdoor voices, and then got very quiet. I smelled a tuna fish sandwich. Kman smelled schnapps. One of the boys had vomited on the floor near our seat. On the little girl's umbrella, it turns out. Leave it, flouncy girl. Not worth the fuss. There will be many other umbrellas in your future.

The show was lovely. Again. Only different, as they have left the girl band animaa behind in Iceland (from the Myspace page, I suspect one of those girls is very pregnant, and no doubt wouldn't tour in that condition). So it was a pared-down version of 4 who performed. It's hard not to rave. It's hard not to order everyone out to watch. But I won't because I do recognize that they are an acquired taste.

Otherwise all is well. Going to the office. Gonna get lots done. In theory. In theory.

Another day in chaos, even if it is partially self-inflicted. Mainly because I can't just see a void. I have to step into it. And try and make the bloody thing better.

Some random thoughts appear whilst drinking some fine single malt. Not the best of the bunch, but a lovely bright distillation. It works.

I wonder if I am the only one who remembers that he chewed his nails down to nubs, and they were always rough and raw looking. When I would ask him to scratch my back, because I loved that as a child, he wouldn't be able to do more than rub. No scratching. Ever. Especially now.

I wonder if I am the only one who thought that he sang Paul McCartney's song "Silly Love Songs." Not sure about that one. I was pretty little. That's the only excuse I can come up with.

I wonder if I am the only one who thought that he was George Carlin on the records that he played in the basement. Because for some reason their voices were the same to me.

No, to the first. Certainly yes to the other ones.

Nothing other than that worth recording. And I would argue that this was nothing worth recording, either. Only feeling self-indulgent. Blame the scotch. Or the moon. Or whatever deity you choose to follow. Myself, well I have been trying to convince myself that choosing one of the old ones might be a pleasant diversion. Mithras comes to mind. Only I am not a warrior. But still, it would be entertaining to take days off to celebrate Mithrian holidays- and come back with a bit of beef blood on my forehead to commemorate the sacrifice. It would be odd enough to win me enemies, but interesting enough to win me friends. In some segments, that is.

Only I am never that daring any more. Once upon a time, it might've happened. But then I grew up and became much more afraid. Mainly because I learned about consequences. And about living without the perpetual safety net. I'm sure it's still there in places, but I don't want to test it. I don't want to be on the ropes. I guess at this point I am rather content to have a secret life of the mind, and leave the rest to being somewhat ordinary.

Only I do wear the black stone necklace when I want to pretend that I'm a witch, and am embracing the darkness. I really do. And it helps a bit. The pretend, not the necklace. I do know the difference so far between pretend and real. More scotch, and that might change.

So the trick is to keep the game face on. All the fucking time. And yes, there is strain. That's what getting coffee and restroom breaks are all about. Walking away for a few quick minutes here and there.

But the game face. It's all about calm in the face of Clear and Present Danger (thanks, Tom). Keeping them from seeing panic that they feel and want to share. Keeping them from feeling like they will have to deal with another problem. Keeping them grounded. Making them laugh here and there. Because otherwise the stress level will become even more toxic. Ah yes. The toxic. And that's the week. Keeping it from killing anyone.

Walks at night after work with Kman help. But that is about all there is to offer, besides drinking ones-self into a stupor. Which, given the rigors of the following day isn't very appealing. Ah, but it is. But it really isn't.

And the game face. Keeping it from cracking off, chipping like paint. Exposed to the elements. And the salt. And the cold. Keeping it intact. Keeping it fresh, even.

The good news? Next week the boss is travelling. And there isn't much for me to worry about then. Because once in play, he is in play and the game rolls on without me.

This weekend has been spent primarily hunkering down in expectation of absolute chaos next week. The boss is back, and there are critical things that happen on Wednesday- career making kinds of things. For him. And there will be stress, ah yes. In my world, indeed. So I planned ahead and slept a lot. And took care of things that will get neglected during the week. It's all good, just expecting a shit-ton of stress and angst. But that is the joy of having a job, no? As long as they're not too horribly cranky, I can deal. And if they are, I go to the new Top Pot donuts nearby and buy them treats to shut them up. Or cry. Because that usually stops men in their tracks and flips the remorseful switch full on.

But I wouldn't do that. No, that is the heavy ammo to be reserved for another day.

All I can really say this morning is that I am glad as hell I didn't get the job at Washington Mutual. I interviewed there several times, and am highly relieved.

Scary fucking stuff. I just hope that calmer heads in congress will prevail and they will hold off on spending all our blasted money in saving structures that ought to be looked at closely before determining if they actually need the assistance. Or if this is a Henny Penny maneuver. Oh, yes. The sky is falling. It happens. If you are a silly chicken, and if this is a children's story. I wouldn't share this story with a child though. It's boring and scary at the same time. But the boring prevails.

On the happier side, the stock at work went up this last week, and I got my first award a month ago. It's nice to see something resembling stability in my life. At least financially. The rest is pretty good, but that helps.

Gotta go to work in a bit- so will sign off. I'm hoping to have time to actually put some writing on the page this weekend. It is possible. And likely. Hold tight, I'll be back soon.

I've started and discarded two posts already this morning. I am worried that the day might follow along like that- fits and starts. But there you have it. Nothing new to really report. Nothing at least that I want to say out loud. In public.

Oh, the angst in the household right now....

We put those claw dealies on Buddy's claws this weekend. He is a very bad boy, who loves to scratch the shit out of the furniture. Not that we have nice furniture to ruin, but it gets on the nerves. And one of the amps is totally denuded on the side, and will need to be repaired. So we glued the plastic covers on his claws. He was very good. And now he is disturbed. Doesn't know what to do with himself.

Very odd to see his kind of perplexed and nonplussed little self. Don't like it much, but prefer training him this way to declawing him. Would hate to do that. Would really hate it.

Bad Buddy.

Now there's a break in the rain. It's good. Because after a perfectly dreary Saturday (CATURDAY!!!) it'll be nice to emerge into something not wet. Damp, perhaps. But wet is not ideal.

I don't intend to spend enormous amounts of time writing about the weather. It just takes over sometimes. Back in the day it was the snow. That would take over. We were prisoners of the winter, and had to deal. It happens here, but not as often. It's more dramatic here, as people stop driving and trees fall over.

So on the docket for today, the amazing and fun job of cleaning the house and finishing my big project of the weekend- the one that had me all pissy and annoyed yesterday. I am going through boxes of papers. And shredding tons of things and just throwing plenty of stuff away. I hate carting things around, and have a very bad habit of hoarding paperwork. I think it is genetic. Ask my father. He has a professional reason for it. But I would say in this instance it imprinted.

Makes me grumpy as hell to go traipsing through the past like that. I see where I spent time that wasn't justified. I see where I spent energy that wasn't clarified. It was not all fun. So then after getting well out of sorts, we had dinner with friends, and I abandoned the project for the day. It helped.

And now to get rolling- there is very little left.

Ah, Jack, you let me down last night.

First off, I don't blame you for the crappy acoustics-playing in the WAMU theater is like playing in an airplane hanger. That can't be helped, I suppose. Ditto the really stupid seating. It was hard to connect with the folks in the seats when they are half a mile away and separated from the band by a sea of people. Don't know how the sound folks could possibly counteract the crappy venue. Bummer that.

But the opening band? The Kills? Really? They were considered good enough? Really? From what I saw, they basically pranced around on stage posing rather than actually playing music. And the endless repetition and drone of the alleged lyrics...really? I am perplexed. Quite perplexed. Won't be going out and buying their music soon. Or ever, really.

And after all that, I do appreciate that your band was prompt. But the 45 minute set followed by the 5 minute powder, and the very short 15 minute reprise was shockingly abrupt. I was NOT feeling the love. In fact, what I witnessed was in no way a joyous reunion of the first Raconteurs concert that I was at a little over a year ago. That one was great. Lots of love from the stage. I attended it despite having thrown out my back an hour before. No pain meds, and extreme discomfort, and I still got it that you guys were having fun on stage playing songs. This time, no back pain, no meds, and I got it that you took over the band at some point and decided to run the entire show. Brandon was relegated to back up player. Not too cool, if'n you ask me. And I would love to give you the benefit of the doubt and think that perhaps he was off his game with a stomach bug, and you were generously taking the show and making it happen. But this isn't very likely now, is it.

And the brevity. That is where I feel ripped off. The brevity. What the fuck was up with that? You now have 2 albums worth of material that you can cover, and you still couldn't muster up a playlist that would go longer than an hour? WTF. Rip off.

Yes, I am cranky about it. Mainly because I have been a huge Jack fan for a while now, despite criticisms from friends and family- people who just don't get it, and accuse me of falling for hype. Now I am beginning to wonder. Perhaps there isn't room on a stage for Jack and his ego and the rest of a band. I don't know. I am not feeling very charitable at the moment. Just pissed off that I hauled myself across Lake Washington after a brutal fucking work week, and sat through a shitty opening band, to be treated to an hour of not horribly inspired music. Highlight- the re-working of "Steady, as She Goes". The low point- not playing "The Switch and the Spur."

I hold you Jack, to a higher standard than last night. I think that you are capable of much more as an entertainer- I have witnessed it through extreme pain and discomfort (when I said thrown back, I wasn't kidding- full on slipped disc, with a good 4 months of repair work to get it back to somewhat normal). I am hoping that someway, somehow, someone who you trust and like can talk some sense into you and bring you back to the place you should be- performing for the folks who love you, and sharing the stage with the band to which you belong. Otherwise, it all becomes the Jack White show, and that is not what I paid to see last night- and it does a disservice to the other boys in the band.

Now I shall finish, and go drink a little more coffee and try not to be cranky any more.

Nothing alarming today. Nothing really frightful woke me up on NPR. Just the usual crap- politics, economics, and surprisingly not religion. The third item on the list has been markedly silent lately.

On my trip, I read Fool on the Hill, by Matt Ruff. It was lovely. It helped the airport experience enormously. I'm reading his Sewer, Gas and Electric now. Not as quick a go at it, but it doesn't help that work has been brutal this week, and I am insisting on Kman going walking in the evenings with me so far this week. That way I can avoid the dreaded gym, get some exercise, spend quality time with the boy, and basically feel smug about my fitness levels. He is complaining a touch about not having enough tv time in the evenings, but I tell him, "Man up, Mary- are those your balls in your purse?" And he laughs. And plots kicking me out of the house with the cats- who really are great little coup planners. Actually they wouldn't really give a rat's ass who lives here, as long as they get enough food (by their definitions, which vary) and plenty of attention when they require it. It's like being coopted by a band of Banana Dictators. Only they are small enough to pick up and toss on the bed. And they poop in a box. Which might be said of the aforementioned dictators, only I am not privy to that information (did you see what I did there? Where is my "ba dum bum"?).

Ok, gotta go to work. It's promising to be another brutal one. But these are actually kind of fun. Like juggling monkeys. And hoping none of the monkeys have a really evil blood-borne pathogen that will cause my innards to seep through my skin.

Ok, I am going to break form and actually say something important.

If by chance you wander here and have small children who play soccer in the back yard, please, please read the following article and act if it applies to you:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=94641865

I heard it on the radio this morning whilst trying to get out of bed. Scary shit, people.

Gotta say I appreciated the weekend away from most everything work. Was still processing things that happened, were said and were done. But that's probably to be expected. Poor Kman had to listen to my musings, but that's also probably to be expected. He gets beer out of the equation, and cup cakes.

Kman wrecked his bike at the track day. He is fine- just low sided. The bike not so much. Not sure what he will do with her. She requires a lot of reconstruction- it wasn't the new one though. But he might just part her out. He spent very little on her originally, so it's not a huge issue, just kind of sad. He messed up his hand a bit, but otherwise only has a large bruise and a sore elbow. I am really glad that he has always purchased the best safety gear available. And it appears to work. Had a debate with my mother yesterday about the relative safety of the track days. I said that I prefer him on a track to daily commuting (which he also does), mainly because it is a known course, with limited people on it, and they know what they're doing, and there is an ambulance available at all times. Versus his commute, where people are idiots, it is slower, but there are lumbering cars around, and they make very bad stopping points. She didn't agree, but that's not a problem, really. He'll go out and run again next season. After he decides the fate of the bike.

Nothing else, have a very busy day planned, so gotta run.

Ah yes I am back. From the work week. It was a marathon. It was also fun. I didn't do anything that would get me fired. I didn't have time. The inclination? Well, that is another story entirely. But no time makes it hard to get creative with misbehavior.

And did it go well? Yes. I think so. It was good to meet people in person with whom I have an extensive email life. It was good to hear the B52's live- and dance 5 feet from the stage. Yes, Fred Schneider, we noticed how stoned you were, but were in awe anyway. And yes, Kate- that sparkly dress was amazing. If I could wear one to work, I would be happy. But I doubt I could pull it off. The consensus was that they have cooler jobs than any of us. Period.

It was good to hear Steve Young speak about team work and football- not that it was profound or anything, but it was surprisingly eloquent, and got a lot of people happy. I would've preferred Terry Bradshaw, but there you go.

It was good to get home, more than anything else. I am sick to absolute death of thinking about work, talking about work, talking to others from work, and basically need time away from that world to become myself again. I was "on" for a fucking week, and am so drained in spirit as to be almost catatonic. Maybe not that bad, but it's still not a pretty sight.

I sent Kman out into the world for the day- he is having another track day. I needed time by myself. And wouldn't really be good company right now. Not that I hate people, just have had enough of them for a while. And the kitties are needy- it's really odd- they are following me around the house screaming at me. Then they fall down and need their bellies rubbed. I think it's love. Or they are just broken. But I want to think it's love.

And on that note, I will ring off for now. I would like to go and do something quiet and contemplative, but will most likely take a nap.

So here's the thing. I have to go on a week-long business trip. I have never logged into this site via my work computer before. Ever. Have kept a strict division of labor, so to speak. And don't know if it is wise to muddy the waters. I haven't thought that it was smart to blog via work machine- mainly because I know damned good and well that it is monitored. Not proscribed, but monitored. If I were to ever be involved in some kind of court case, all of the history of the machine would be court documents, etc. blah fucking blah.

Big reasons why I keep the division going. So now, I am contemplating breaking the third wall while I am gone. Because a week seems like a very long time to be silent. Since I have been a pretty good little blogger lately. And all that. I also expect to be horribly busy, but bored at the same time. And I fully expect to need down time and my own voice. It's just blasted hard to be in professional form for that long. The strain gets to me a bit. Having to tamp down my sense of humor to manageable levels and to not expose them to the kinds of ridicule that I am capable of. Oh, it's so difficult at times. At the last offsite 2 weeks ago, I said "Oh, for fuck's sake." about something. And totally shocked a co-worker. He laughed his ass off, but I kind of got the impression it was like having your first grade teacher say the word "ass."

So I will embrace as much sobriety as I can handle, and might not be hereabouts for a while. Feh.

As seen in real life today:

1. A large rampaging herd of purple-clad people shuffling towards the U of W football stadium. While it looked like a convention of "special" folks in their favorite purple shirts (seriously here- purple is totally the tard color- check out the special olympics some time- I know whereof I speak, it's my "special" sister's favorite color too) I think there was a game. They were by and large a grumpy looking lot.

2. A very nice homeless man who didn't actually panhandle my ass, just smiled at me and told me to have a good day- outside the U of W bookstore (manna from heaven in the remainder stacks there today, believe me).

3. The prettiest calico kitteh at the petstore. Crude comment du jour- I wonder how many blow jobs it would take to convince Kman that a 4th cat is necessary? I am thinking more than I can deliver. Feh. But she was really, really pretty.

4. The laundrymat next to our favorite Starbucks (yes, we have a favorite Starbucks- so sue us) was apparently broken this morning. There was a shrill, piercing claxon coming from inside, as a very annoyed looking old lady left with a big jug of bleach. It didn't stop while we waited in line. If finally stopped when we got our coffee. And then started up again. We passed the annoyed old lady in the parking lot, as she shuffled to the laundrymat with a look of resignation on her face, and without the jug of bleach.

5. Again, I hate politicians and everything political right now merely on principle. Had a discussion about the sins of Cindy McCain this morning with my mother. Seems that the drug abuse/prescription pill theft/whistleblower firing/charity abandonment thing has gone away. Enough money will do that. I just remember the Phoenix New Times doing a big story of that whole mess back in the day. And it hardened me to her for life. Just because. Hypocrisy has that effect on me. Oh, and John McCain appears to be a horse's ass. Just noticed that when I lived in Arizona for 6 hellish years. Not that the others aren't bad. I'm pretty sure they are equally as excorable. But it's all about the devil you know, right?

6. I guess changing a windshield is hard. I've been to the store and back and Kman and his sidekick today Aki are still at it. I am not helping . I am sitting at the computer and making fun of them. It's much more entertaining, believe me. I would just whine if I was involved. And get pissy and bored. That's how I roll.

And about politics- I got nuthin. Didn't watch anything but the Colbert Report and Jon Stewart- and those were delayed by a day. Just couldn't care either way. Just couldn't muster up the anger, enthusiasm and basic interest. It all just seems the same. I think that the venom that I held during the last election broke me. I didn't like feeling so angry and unhappy. I hated feeling that helpless. And I hated the outcome even more, and couldn't understand how it happened. So something just kind of broke. Can't care.

But that's not to say that I won't vote. I have voted in every election since 1984. Because it meant something tangible to me- I couldn't wait for the chance. I remember in first grade choosing a presidential candidate- sadly it was Nixon. But I got better. I remember my parents debating the Ford/Carter race. I was on the Carter side. I won't divulge which parent chose whom, but those in the know can pretty much call it- it was predictable.

And now I am just saddened by a lot of it. I think that most of the people who want to run the country are pretty much losers. They are trying so bloody hard to take charge, and they really lack the essential humanity to pull it off properly. Yes, I include almost all of the wannabes here. Almost all. There is just such a sense of white-knuckled desperation involved. Like their lives are forfeit if they lose. No, you just lose. And the world forgets about you. And you get to be a footnote. Ah, remember Adlai? No? Wiki it and get back to me later with that. I'll expect a full accounting. So maybe that really is what they fear. Being inconsequential and forgotten. It'll happen anyway. It always does.

So I actually went to the gym last night. Hated every fucking minute of it. And kept track of every fucking minute of it. But I did sleep well. That seems to be the regrettable conclusion that I must draw. Exercise = decent sleeping. Crap. I hate that. But there you have it.

Yesterday was off the charts stressometer at work. Not me, but those around me. Not happy boys. But they got better as the day wore interminably on. And me, well, I just maintained. And tried very hard not to let their foul moods rub off on me. So much.

Otherwise nothing else I can legitimately discuss here- some other stuff happened, but it is off the record- I will be able to discuss later, perhaps. Unless something more interesting comes up. We'll see.

And now I must go intervene- the kitties are starting to act up- Mika is jumping on top of Buddy with the intent of apparently buggering the poor little guy. And since they're both neutered males, I suspect it has some kind of dominance action going on. Somehow I suspect Buddy won't take kindly to being the bottom.

So for all the feelings of being in control, it's nights like last night that remind me that it's all pretty much a facade. Not sleeping again. Which shouldn't surprise me in the least. Not really. Just part of my everyday life, certainly. Assuredly. Completely.

But that's ok. It will come. Sleep, I mean. The dreams are there anyway. They happen whether I have full-on sleepage or not. They creep around the edges and tinge everything with an odd shade of sepia. Usually they are narrative. Not last night. But they were still there. Unreeling. It reminded me of those olde time film editing rooms. Piles of rejected film. Watched once and then dumped in a box. Treasures to filmophiles. But rejected nevertheless. Oh, to find the batch of Ambersons edits. And those for Queen Kelly. Strike that. Queen Kelly was garbage overall. And Gloria Swanson was a really strange looking lady. Lady is being generous, no? But what the hell- she is dead. And wouldn't make a particularly good zombie.

The boys at work are obsessed with zombies. I think it has something to do with video games. But don't know the specific reference, and don't care enough to ask. They discuss how to kill zombies. For hours. And hours. No, these aren't the guys I work immediately with- but another group. And it's fine, really. It gets them through the day. And they help get me through the day. I am an observer. And that works well for me. It's like watching some kind of strange geekoid tv show. And the time flies. Until I try to sleep at night. Then it staggers like a drunk. Bed spins and all.

You know a vacation from everything ought to be a good excuse to come up with great content. But not really, in my case. Just an excuse to let my mind just go...

Last week was brutal. We had about 50 people in town from across the country, and there was training. Luckily I didn't have to set that up. But I did have events to plan, events to attend, training to attend, something to do every night of the blasted week, and my annual review (which went quite well- got a raise and stock award, thank you). I took Friday off. So it was a 4 day weekend. Because I NEEDED it. It was that or start killing people. I did still manage to go to work for an hour- because of a time-sensitive thingy that needed to be done.

But Kman got a precious, precious track day on Friday. And I got to sleep in. Finally I feel like I can cope again. It was getting dicey. Not in a good way. Like in a "wow. She is coming unraveled" kind of way.

Other than that, not much going on. I did get rolling on the writing project again. Finally had the mental space to actually think about telling a story. And was out of reaction only, please mode. So this week will be sort of quiet, I suspect. But then I am travelling next week, for a big company shindig. Not looking forward to it at all. Not in the least. Seriously. Don't want to travel right now. Especially with 1,000 of my nearest and dearest friends. I really mean it. Just want to stay home and not be challenged for a while.

No such luck. But that's why I get the big bucks. Right. Would that that were true. The big bucks and all that.

Oh- tip of the week- if you get the chance to watch Stalag 17, do so. Great Billy Wilder bait and switch of a movie. Loved it. That William Holden. Gotta love the man. Even if he is good and dead. Because he would make a kick ass zombie.

Derelict in my duties hereabouts. I have a week of offsites and offsite functions that I am working. Because it is my life right now. The scary catered affair last night went off without a huge hitch- the weather didn't exactly comply, but it also wasn't a surprise, and everything worked out anyway.

I am hoping to take Friday off. Then I can catch up. And just breathe. Because all of the planning that I did for weeks and months is finished for now. Until the next offsite. In 2 weeks.....sigh....

Oh, it gets better. Seems we were televised during the game. And didn't know about it until Kman went to work and caught shit.

It was during the raising of the 12th man flag. BOOOORRRINNNG. Start the fucking game, already! So Kman is clapping in primo golf style, and I am looking at the field, seemingly confused. I love that- Apathetic and Addled! Ha Ha, I say!

The best things of the night:

the guy in a seat in front of us with my name in heart tattooed to his arm. He is my super-secret love now. Only, not really- he was kind of skanky.

The dance routine to Bittersweet Symphony that the chippie dancers kept performing. Despite the fact that the actual lyrics are about despair and sadness and death. Fitting? Probably. But this crowd doesn't seem to me to be heavy on the irony. So I'm sure I was one of very few who were all amused about it. Kind of like watching those Carnival cruise commercials where they are blasting Iggy Pop in the background. Lust for Life, indeed. Along with lust for a dime bag, baby.

Overall the day was good. And plenty of my co-workers were impressed by my sport-ticket buying acumen. Little do they realize that I am Addled. (cue up the opening chords to Iron Man- I think it would fit pretty well.)

Don't have much time to be all chatty and such. The boss is back from vacation today, and I suspect that it'll be a bit busy. Nothing like hitting a bee's nest with a stick.

We went to a Seahawks game Saturday night. It was pre-season. The tickets were absurdly good. It was fun. Doubt I'll do it again, though. Because I just don't care that much. Wanted the experience.

Not much else to report of note- gotta go get ready for chaos and mayhem. Because that's the way we roll around here.

All right- so last night's post- I am feeling remorseful. And if I had my druthers and felt like it, I would just delete it. But I'll let it stand. I am just all anxietish and all that. It happens. With some regularity- I'll blame the lunar eclipse. Mainly because I don't have a concrete excuse.

On another note- I do not have a 6'7" arm span. And I don't swim for shit. There is your Olympic moment for the day. Bye then.

So main complaint of the day- I think I took a joke too far. It happens. And it was in writing. So if it comes back to bite me in the ass, I have no one but myself to blame. I can only hope that all will just roll back over to normal, and the injured parties won't ever find out.

It was social. And it was very funny.

Oh, and I saw Bill Gates driving while I was on the way to work today. Should've known it would be a very strange day.

Once again there is an impasse. I just can't get the words out. I suspect it's because I talk so bloody much during the day. There are just no opportunities for quiet. Not really. Not in my head. Not really.

But that's to be expected, as Mama says. It's because I am a gemini. And was a busy child. Always hiding in the clothes racks at Hennesy's. Scared the crap out of her numerous times. But she never stopped taking me shopping. Would run off in the grocery store and explore. But she never stopped taking me along.

But all those words, just pouring out. I wonder if there is really an endless supply of them, or if someday I will just run out. It scares me sometimes. Like the elevator dream I had last night. We were trapped above the roofline of the building, hanging by a thread, with the door open and the elevator cab floating there, shifting from the left to the right. The others were trying to keep me relatively calm, because I was very unhappy there. Floating without a way down.

Weekend of death and destruction in the world- probably nothing unique with that, only the world was watching.

I hated the Cold War. It pissed me off. And now we are starting up again. Russia is really frightening. And all those years ago, when I was studying the language (don't even ask- I remember all of two gibberish phrases, but my accent is impeccable), I defended them as misunderstood by the West.

In retrospect I feel like a bit of a tosser. Should have been a bit less idealistic and a bit more cynical about it all. They appear to be bullies of the first order. And it pisses me off that we as a country are so severely overextended that we can't help our allies properly. But then, that is no doubt the whole sequence of events that caused that little conflict called WWI. And then led to WWII. Seems like it might be a blessing to have to lie low and let them get swamped by the bullies.

But it gravels. And I don't like watching. And I don't trust the stories I hear on the news. And I don't trust the perspective being fed to me. It's enough to send me back to bed for the day. Just to avoid all of this. But that wouldn't work. I would just lay there and worry about something.

So today is supposed to be some kind of lucky day. 8/8/08. All right. I'll bite. Why, exactly? What calendar are you using? Do you realize how many times the calendar has actually changed? If so, doesn't that figure in somewhere?

Too much maths for me.

Kman went to the new Batman movie last night. I stayed home and finished a book. Didn't want to see it yet- theatrical releases are just too intense sometimes for my delicate constitution- and funny that, I told someone yesterday that I am not a buttercup. But I am when it comes to the more intense movie offerings. I cannot sit still. It is an evil feeling. The Matrix about undone me. Totally undone Kman- but for a different reason entirely. See not to disclose secrets n all- but he has a thing about needles. Many do.

But those kinds of movies. I just don't enjoy them in a theater. Will likely love it on the tv- HD stylee. But not something I can reasonably sit through. And getting to sleep afterwards- not happening, my friend.

And so now back to it. You know. The thing I do all day long. Something careery. I dunno.

Remember this one?

The tax man's taken all my dough,
And left me in my stately home,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
And I can't sail my yacht,
He's taken everything I've got,
All I've got's this sunny afternoon.

Save me, save me, save me from this squeeze.
I got a big fat mama trying to break me.
And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
In the summertime
In the summertime
In the summertime

My girlfriend's run off with my car,
And gone back to her ma and pa,
Telling tales of drunkenness and cruelty.
Now I'm sitting here,
Sipping at my ice cold beer,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.

Help me, help me, help me sail away,
Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay.
'Cause I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
In the summertime
In the summertime
In the summertime

Ah, save me, save me, save me from this squeeze.
I got a big fat mama trying to break me.
And I love to live so pleasantly,
Live this life of luxury,
Lazing on a sunny afternoon.
In the summertime
In the summertime
In the summertime

And how about this one?

And the sky was made of amethyst

And all the stars were just like little fish

You should learn when to go

You should learn how to say no

Might last a day, yeah

Mine is forever

Might last a day, yeah

Mine is forever

Well they get what they want, and they never want it again

Well they get what they want, and they never want it again

Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to

Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to

And the sky was all violet

I want to give the violent more violets

And I'm the one with no soul

One above and one below

Might last a day, yeah

Mine is forever

Might last a day, yeah

Mine is forever

When they get what they want, and they never want it again

And they get what they want, and they never want it again

Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to

Go on, take everything, take everything, I dare you to

I told you from the start just how this would end

When I get what I want, then I never want it again

Go on take everything, take everything, I want you to

Go on take everything, take everything....

Ok, despite best intentions (and you know how effective those are), I haven't uploaded photos yet.

Mitigating factors: Kman bought a new motorcycle yesterday. It is nice. The guy delivered it to the house last night- there was drama- the title is going to be a bit delayed as there is financing involved on the seller's end, and there were many feverish calls and much internet searching the other night to resolve how to handle this. Sadly, this kind of thing has become very common- people living with way too fucking much debt to make a secure go of it- and having to liquidate things that they owe money on, at times for a loss. But the bike sure is pretty.

Mitigating factor redux: spent the day in training yesterday, and was bloody tired. It was one of those active participation kinds of things- one in which I appeared to be the only person in my group with significant motor skills. The rest apparently were "thinkers". I got the majority of the actual grunt work done. Which either means that I am good, or merely an idiot who falls for that trick. You guess.

Then: spent the evening trying to finish the rather downbeat but enthralling book about the Holocaust The Lost, by Daniel Mendelsohn. It isn't happy. But then I doubt that any book covering the attempted extermination of a large group of people could be considered happy. There are things that I have been reading that have made me think a lot. Stuff that I never knew and never considered. I like reading these kinds of books on occasion (if I did it all the time, I would no doubt off myself) mainly because it is a damned good reminder that I don't know as much as I thought I knew, and need to continue to learn more. Lots more.

That's about it. Oh, and I've started going to the gym again post-vacation. There you have it. The round-up of what the hell is going on here.

This week won't suck. Officially or otherwise. Not that I am some kind of psychic and can determine this from the bird offal steaming in a bowl. No, because everyone in my world who matters (or who I report to, to be succinct) is on vacation. Ah. Wilderness.

I will be on the clock, doing things that I shoved aside for saner times and venues. But it will be a more relaxed vibe, indeed.

And I might get a chance to download the photos from our trip. And then I can share. Otherwise it's just everyday crap. Nothing spectacular, spectacular.

Ok, I am back. Slacking like crazy, but back. Not feeling up to a bunch of catch up yet- work is bad enough- had over 400 actual work-related emails to slog through on Thursday and Friday. Alpha disasters and Beta disasters. It took time.

Now am cleaning house, watching crap recorded on the DVR while we were gone, contemplating writing more on the book, and other such nonsense.

But it is good to be home.

The orchids are blooming like crazy, the whole downstairs smells of Cattleya. If you haven't ever experienced that smell, get thee to a botanical garden or orchid greenhouse posthaste. You can NOT die without smelling a Cattleya in bloom. Amazing. Like angels. Or unicorns. hey.

The trip- I will have pictures soon. Kman took the camera on an overnight adventure with a bunch of guys owning old BMW cars. He sounds happy. Either it's a driving adventure, or they went to all the strip clubs and picked up hookers. I'll know soon. I kind of figure the pictures he took will be a giveaway.

Cool things- saw the Blue Angels (SeaFair week is here- whoohoo) from my office lounge overlooking Lake Washington. Very nice. Plants are happy- see above. Timmy the cat has fully controlled diabetes as of yesterday's blood test results- no more filthy lucre spent on that crap for a while, only meds. Sister got married to best.Kevin.ever. Saw lots of really fun stuff on the trip, spent quality time with family and friends, and got home before any real forest fires caused respiratory distress.

Other cool things- the sun is shining, had coffee with a good friend yesterday, and have some time today allocated to doing absofuckinglutely nothing. Huzzah.

Over and out!

Am on vacation until the 30th. Don't know if I will get a chance to say anything- but will be back then fur sure!

Adios!

We're getting ready for our vacation. It's the semi-annual pilgrimage across the state of MT. If you need to look at a map, ok- just please return. So we start in Spokane for an auspicious event (you know who you are!), bestow good wishes and presents and then drive crazy far to Billings. It will be hot. It will be very, very hot.

Then we will visit some friends in Bozeman, and on to Helena. Then we will make our way to parts north. And finally wrap it all up in a tidy bow and come home.

I will be offline from work. It will be painful, I just know it. The casual habit I have of checking my email when I am bored on my phone will end when we cross the border into Idaho. (no, you da ho) I refuse to log in while I am away. They will have to endure without me. The only thing I fear, besides fear itself, is the sheer volume of crap that will collect in my email box. It will be amazing I guarantee.

And there you have it. I will likely be online in more personal ways. That will ease the pain of being away from technology a bit.

Want some paranoia with that coffee? Well, if not, look away. Because it is percolating quite nicely around here.

So with the news that the Bush administration is not only aiding the mortgage industry after years of that group of individuals acting like cowboys on the high plains circa 1870, I am wondering who benefits the most.

Also there is news that Bush has lifted restrictions on off-shore drilling, despite estimates that it will take years for that oil to reach the market, if they find it quickly. I am wondering who benefits the most.

I have always approached this group of people with a sense of dread and caution (and thus have finally outed myself as a raving liberal, no?). Mainly because I believe that they use Machiavelli as textbook material- not Bush, he probably couldn't pronounce the name properly, but no doubt has a cliff notes version hidden away somewhere. Every move that they make appears calculated to me. I honestly have a strong suspicion that the current oil crisis is manufactured to provide an immense assist to the oil interests that helped get Bush elected. Something about that whole chummy relationship with his father and the Saudi royal family and all that. There is just too much back room snorgeling for my taste.

And it shouldn't surprise anyone, I suppose. Just that this was supposed to be the party that took big government out of our everyday affairs. But here it is. Big government is going to help with our banking, our gas and oil hunting, and will be able to listen to our phone conversations without much ado. I hope they enjoy mine. Very, very pleb. Nothing interesting at all. Pity the poor sot who has to monitor my life. Really do pity him/her.

Saw Eddie Izzard last night. Bloody brilliant. And disconcertingly similar to our friend Cory. Scary the mannerisms and movements. So very alike...

The dominatrix who writes a column in one of the local weeklies sat in the row in front of me. Yes, I recognized her. Because she advertises with an actual picture and all. The row in front of her was filled with the largest people I have ever seen. Packed. Seat to seat largeness. I have never seen such an assortment of very big people in one place in Seattle. Ever. I don't know why Izzard would draw that crowd. I expected more gay men and drag queens. But it was mostly large people. And older people.

But brilliant.

Then came home, popped another migraine pill to kill the persistent headache and didn't sleep all night. Until around what-the-fuck-am. So there you have it. But Izzard rocked it. Like he owned it. And I guess he likely did.

(no, wasn't in drag last night. But still fabulous)

Computer is broken. We are taking extreme measures to salvage the docs on the hard drive. But in the interim, there is no playing, so I will be kind of quiet for a while. Not to think that I have nothing to say- I do. It is just going to be more difficult....sigh...

Oh- one piece of news that brought great delight to my day yesterday (besides the fabulous haircut that I got from a young woman from (of all places) Ennis, MT)- the batshit nasty boss who made my life hell before this job (remember her?) got demoted. HAH! We'll call it karma. And the ugly little person who was my workout partner who ditched me to work for that nasty boss- she has a new boss. HAH! We'll call that irony. They can both rot in hell. No, not holding a grudge so much.

So that is about all. For now. Thank you, come again.

In another insomniac slump. But only until I fall asleep. The the dreams have me. And I wake. Again and again. The only thing keeping the dreams at bay is the cat on my leg. He grounds me. He is warm and reminds me that if a cat is here, the dream isn't real. And as long as I can make that logic work, I can sleep again. But then I wake up tired, and it was all wasted effort.

We saw a blue man at the store. Not blue like the Vegas performers. That would be cheesy. This was a blue man. Like the idiots who ingest too much colloidal silver. It's stupid, really. If you turn blue, you were a dumbass. He was creepy. I didn't make eye contact. I have a feeling he is probably used to this reaction by now. If not, well, bummer dude. You drank too much colloidal silver.

So Ms. Crankypants has her comeuppance coming. Seems she was a dumbass and screwed up something at work, and didn't come clean about it immediately. Seems it slipped her mind (might've been hope at work- hope that no one would notice), and she didn't think to be brave and tell anyone. Seems that they did notice. As per usual. So now she gets to be a grown up about it and fill them in on what happened. And it wasn't her fault. But the not telling anyone anything does conjure up shades of self-loathing.

And all on the same day that she got accolades for a major fire drill last week....sigh....that'll teach her.

Since there are a proliferation of rules books on the shelves, I figure I can add to the fray. Just because I have a few opinions, which should be quite a revelation to all.

1. Never, never, never name your food. Do you hear me 4-Hers???? It is an extremely bad idea. Those animals are not pets. Don't do it. You will regret it. The whole thing will end in tears.

2. If you decide to drive in the state of WA, please remember that the left lane is for passing only. Even if you are going the speed limit. Get your crappy ass over to the right. And keep your smug to yourself. It incites rage, and will also end in tears.

3. Wear sunblock. I have had melanoma. It scared the crap out of me. I have a 4" long scar on my left shoulder. It will remain with me forever. It is where the tiny little mole became a problem. I look at all of my moles now with a combination of fear and respect. I do not wish this upon anyone. Wear sunblock.

4. If you are on a diet, chain restaurants are a bad idea. For the most part they will not post the caloric values of their food. They are not your friend. They don't mind if you get fat. They certainly don't mind if you order more. TGIFridays, I am talking to you. Ditto Chilis and Applebees. Plus, their food is crappy and full of additives. There is likely a local place that would make a good alternative. Use your imagination.

5. Don't leave food on your deck for your pets or the squirrels. It attracts raccoons. They have thumbs. They are really rather evil. We have one who we now call Nooner who shuffles across our deck around noon daily looking for peanuts. Because someone in the house thought that the squirrels needed them. And always wanted a pet squirrel. I think that someone in the house secretly wishes he was Veruka Salt. From the last Wonka movie. Only without the Mary Jane's.

6. Pirates no doubt smelled bad. And had bad oral hygiene, resulting in lowered lifetime expectancy. And I suspect that they were all a bunch of barely functioning alcoholics, who probably had more than their fare share of blackouts and drunken sex with very unsavory characters. And no, I doubt seriously that they looked anything like Orlando Bloom or Johnny Depp. Get over it. You do not want to be a pirate. Ever try crapping over the side of a boat? Bet you have to have really good balance.

7. Beer should have a flavor. If it doesn't it is not worth ingesting. Even on a hot day. Drink water, the caloric intake will make your metabolism happier.

8. Nasty tattoos of hearts, flowers, the Tasmanian devil, unicorns and other sundry things should never happen on your chest. You will regret it. Go to your local VFW and take a good look at the ink on those guys. Then think about what you are planning on doing. And visualize 30 or so years from now. Just do it. If it still seems like a good idea, well, you are an idiot. Stop reading and go away. I wash my hands of you.

9. People in the money industry are typically greedy and love money. Don't be surprised if this causes financial shenanigans and scandals. Common sense says it is typical.

10. Keep your kitchen and your bathroom spotless. If any of these smell, you are a pig, and probably make yourself sick from food/fecal contamination on a regular basis. Those "smell reducing" sprays would be unnecessary if you just got off of your lazy ass and took out the garbage.

And that is all for tonight. Couldn't sleep so decided that it would be a great idea to spew venom onto the web for all and sundry. Why the hell not? If a chucklehead like Rush can do it on the airwaves, at least I know that the functionally literate will have access to my overwrought opinions. Heh.

So after all is said and done, he can still amaze me. There is something completely generous in his character that finds its way to the top at times like that. And leaves me breathless with both wonder and gratitude.

Where the hell did you come from?

How the hell did I find you?

Man. I guess I had better make it right no matter what. I can't waste this opportunity. No way, no how. Mainly because I know damned good and well that there will never be another like this one. Never.

Silly boy, now you are on my list for good.

Get used to it, sunshine.

It's been an appallingly quiet week- just busy doing stupid things at work that require lots of coordination, concentration, and leave me exhausted. So I come home and fall asleep on the couch, watching Stephen Colbert. And then Kman comes in from doing things in the man cave downstairs (there have been car and motorcycle projects in the offing all week) and tells me to go to bed. It is silly. And it is my life lately.

Not much in my head other than getting through it all, putting the boss on a plane, and having time to catch up on things that got shoved into other corners of my head in the last couple of weeks. I did, however, read an amazing short story by a friend. It gave me the resolution and one hell of a good angle for my book. That part had been floundering a bit. So this was what it needed. And I am happy. Just need the energy and discipline to sit and write it.

I have also been going to the gym. Which is probably part of the falling asleep on the couch story. Am up to 20 minutes on the stair machine, followed by 10 on the treadmill. I hate it. Like I hate poison. The band. Just because. But it is helping firm up parts that are best firmed.

Today is a check up for Timmy the cat. We think that we have dialed in the insulin pretty well. He seems perkier than he has been for a very long time, and I keep finding him on our bed- which for a while he couldn't reach. So either he has an assistant putting them there, or he is actually able to jump. I opt to believe the latter.

Nothing else. Just winding down the day and getting giddy about having days off.

I've already deleted one post for today, and am deleting several others in my head. Nothing to say yet, will either come back later, or will just enjoy the sun.

I have lovely friends. Last night I had my final birthday surprise- tickets and very good (albeit tall) seats to the Seattle taping of this week's "Wait, Wait, ...Don't tell me."

The Paramount theater was filled to capacity with NPR geeks- the most elderly and benign group I've ever seen at that venue.

And it was fun. Amazing and fun. I haven't laughed that hard in ages, and eagerly await the broadcast on Saturday to see what they did with the raw material.

I gotta say, I expect that they will cut the 15 minute riff on "Clippy" the evil MS Office Assistant (who has been dispatched in Vista, for those of you who haven't either heard the news or adopted the new software platform- i.e. most of you). Hasta la vista Clippy, you little fucker.

Anyway, gotta run. Bit of a work day ahead, I fear.

Postscript- I realized today that between the lot of us, we four were the ruffians at the Paramount, and could have probably kicked anyone in the place's ass. But being NPR geeks ourselves, wouldn't think of it. Until later.

More on epiphanies.

The big one this weekend is that I have a finite time left. Right. We've discussed that before, I know. But this was a slightly different take on it. Basically I made a decision that really made me feel better about a lot of things.

I have decided that the list of things that I want to learn someday, or read someday, or do someday is going to get whittled down significantly to a more reasonable proportion. For example, I have always wanted to learn the bass. I have one. I have amps. I have not, however, taught myself. I will commit to either getting a teacher or letting this one go. Within a year. And I can live with that. Ditto riding the motorcycle. Either I start learning this weekend- mainly my evaluation of whether or not I even like it- or it goes away. I am tired of unrealistic expectations of what I can still cram into my life.

I am going through the book shelves and purging. If I haven't read it in over 5 years and it is on my to-read list, it goes. Ain't gonna happen. Plenty of other, more interesting or pertinent books are getting in the way. And so it goes.

I will even commit to going through my closet again. And cleaning out clothing that I haven't worn in over a year (with the exception of some sentimental favorites that will probably get stuffed in my coffin with me some day- it will be a very full coffin apparently). Enough already. Time to let a bunch of this go.

Time to have a conversation with the landlord, too. I want to get permission to get my kiln wired in the basement. It would be good to bring that and my wheel out from storage in MT. I would like to do something productive with them for a change. I have my doubts as to whether or not he will allow this- he is pretty careful and almost fearful of things like that. We signed an agreement not to turn the water heater up past 120 degrees. It is in the lease. I think he means it. Funny guy. But we like him a lot, as he leaves us alone and doesn't raise the rent. Oh, and he pays to maintain the place when we alert him to problems. What the hell could be better? Owning our own? Not yet. Wouldn't waste the money buying in this particular market. It doesn't feel right yet.

Anyway, that was a big step for me. The deciding to let things go step. There was more, but it was much more along the lines of interpersonal and very private kinds of letting go. And that is that. It's all good.

Oh, and the sun is still shining.

One of those weekends spent pondering imponderables again. I do that once in a while- just to take stock, I think. If there aren't a fresh and sufficient supply, then it's time to shop for more.

Not much writing getting done- know where I'm going in the immediate future with the project, just haven't applied myself. Am having the sleep issues again, and have no inclination to dig into anything but going to bed when I get home in the evening. Kind of sucks. I blame our cat, Buddy. Because his nickname is Beelzebuddy. And it fits.

Not ready to really dive deeply into the aforementioned imponderables, suffice it to say, the ground shifted under me, and it was good. Like a fresh stream bubbling up from someplace deep inside. Not lava this time. Which is also good. And there was a significant assist provided by the everpresent and amazing Kman. Who now sports big skuff marks on his kneepads on his leathers. Very impressive. We love him.

Perfect pleasantness all weekend. We like that. Yes we do.

Now for a return to the regularly scheduled idiocy that is my work life. Not that the people are stupid. Not at all. It's just the frustrations of being part of a large bureaucracy. Decisions that ought to be fluid and fast are painfully slow. Progress is measured in increments. And pending things take days to sort out, because everyone and their pet dog needs to chime in. Personally, there isn't much that I care that deeply about. Not at work. At home, maybe. But we don't do things by committee like that hereabouts. It's pretty concise.

And yes, I understand the economic necessity of the hesitation (read checks and balances) at work. I really do get it. But it boils down to an awful lot of planning to implement about the same thing as yesterday.

So Lx is going to this place, eh? And I remembered compulsively watching SCTV back in the day, eh? And I bought this album. And listened to it compulsively, eh? I'm sure my poor long-suffering father who had an office next to my bedroom thought long and hard about stealing it and using it for target practice. There are definitely times when I owe the man, big.

But hey, if you are heading north, don't forget your back bacon and a beer. Take off, eh!

So today is one of my days. I claim them. Every year, I get one. And it reminds me of those add a pearl necklaces my mother used to sell in her jewelry store. One pearl for every year. And since pearl is my birth stone it is an apt comparison. Another piece of lore picked up at the jewelry store. Along with the 5 c's of diamond buying. Seriously, take me along if you need to pick one out. I have one hell of an eye for the good ones.

Also one of the reasons Kman won't buy me jewelry. I have plenty. And he knows it. And he knows that he probably can't afford my tastes if I let loose in that arena. But those kinds of things don't play a role in my life for the most part. Just don't go with Converse slip ons and jeans.

So it's my day, Kman is off on his own adventure, but did leave me with provisions including coffee in a thermos and a really lovely houseplant that I wanted. Because dead flowers don't do it for me- I want the real thing that I can re-bloom. Over and over, like my day returning.

And yes, I take great pride in probably being the first person this year to wish Salman Rushdie a happy mutual birthday. That was a gift.

So is the kitty health- Timmy the diabetic one is getting better. It is lovely to behold. We are pleased. Another gift.

Kman is having a dream adventure. Another gift.

I actually have a job that allowed me to get a new shoulder for free, and pays for me to lose weight (hasn't written the code to do that without effort, but probably working on it in a lab somewhere), both gifts.

Am writing the project that has been bothering me in fits and starts for about 10 years. It's happening, and that's a gift.

I have people who love me, and it's reciprocal. Biggest gifts of all.

So overall, it's really a good life. And that string of days offers me a great time-out to reflect on all of this. So I will get back to Bed Princess day, and go watch the crappy Biographies that I Tivoed for this occasion. Because I gotta slum a little if I'm going to have a truly decadent day!