Ode to my Cat

Oh, fierce terror recessed deep under the fat. Oh, fang'd and claw'd with sharp pointy things, you stalk the apartment on semi silent paws... The food bowl cowers and trembles at your stealthy approach, for it knows it's fate is at hand. Yea, let the squirrel approach the balcony with no trepidation at all, for it knows that lurking inside the glass door you are there. So, come oh squirrel, come dine on the bulbs I planted in happier times. Dine and revel. I hasten to open the door, placing death on four legs out, out onto the balcony to revenge me! You mew piteously, the squirrel snacks on. I let you back in. The thief chortles and stuffs it's face.

Sharing a favorite author

His name is Simon Winchester. His books are divine. I'm in love. 'nuff said. Okay, okay... Simon Winchester (who can be found at http://www.simonwinchester.com/ ) has written some gorgeous, intelligent books about...well, anything that happens to interest him. I was introduced to "The Professor and The Madman" some where along the line, (perhaps...divine providence?) and I've become a decided fan of his ability to turn what could be, potentially, a dull piece of informational history, into a real story with living breathing people who matter to me. People who have in fact, made my life considerably better because they existed. (read the "Professor and the Madman" and you'll see what I mean, not to mention, "The Meaning of Everything.") Currently I'm delving into "Krakatoa". Wow. I'm on page 29 only, and already I'm inspired to post a 'rah rah rah' to Mr. Winchester mid chapter. Who knew a book about a volcano explosion over 120 years ago would hold my interest so raptly? Alright, it's true I'M A NERD!! Nonetheless. He writes so well that one forgets they are learning, and instead the tale becomes the thing. Like Carl Sagan and Joseph Campbell before him, Simon Winchester shows a fascination and delight in what he writes about, and for those of you who rejoice in that, I really can't recommend him high enough. Start with "The Professor and the Madman", that ought to get you hooked!

I also blow my nose at her.

It was an innocent enough mistake. There was a discussion in the office about what books we were reading. I erred. I mentioned a book on quantum physics. Then, from across the room rang, "You are SUCH a nerd." with just the right amount of snide criticism aimed to deliver a pointed and painful blow. But then, before I retaliated with, "At least I'm not a V.C. ANDREWS DRONE!!!" I caught myself short and thought...I AM a nerd. I mean, "I AM A NERD!" I just remembered that in this world of indentifing tags, that's mine. So there! I love knowing strange things about lycanthropy, and being able to use the word impecunious (which I am) in a sentence. And so what? What's wrong with that? I'll you tell where the problems lies...it's that an adult co worker feels the need to point that out as if it's a deformity, really, she probably wouldn't shout out, "OH MY GOD, LOOK AT YOUR HAIR LIP!!!" (I hope anyway, it's hard to say after her little display.) Tsk tsk tsk. I should have come back with, "YOU ARE A FEEBLE MINDED GRADE FOUR TYPE PERSON WHO SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED OUT IN THE REAL WORLD." But I didn't. Instead, like the good nerd I am, I turned the other cheek and muttered that her father was an 'ampster. Not to mention her mother!

The stuff of dreams.

What fascinating things dreams are. In this amazing time of space exploration and genome mapping, we are still held completely captive by dreams. No science has ever fully determined what a dream is, or why they occur. And yet despite our ignorance, they continue to happen to all of us every single night of our lives. And we all dream, we may not remember them and all their misty details, but we do dream. How can it be that these multi layered shows of light, sound and gripping emotion mean nothing? How can it be that despite some of our times most illustrious minds taking a stab at dream 'interpretation', we can't even know if they really DO have meaning beyond random brain spasms? And how is it that not everyone dreams in the same manner? I often wake with dazzling images of dreams still flashing full color in front of my alarm opened eyes, and blaring music (once AC/DC's "Highway to Hell"), echoing at full volume in my ears, but others claim to dream in only black and white and silence. What about the raw, left over emotions that can grip one long into days afterward. Who hasn't awoken, tears streaming down their face? Or joyous throughout the day for a particularly wonderful dream? Turning bright red at the sight of a co worker that one was involved with in a torrid affair not a few hours earlier isn't unheard of either. Dreams contain everything we could hope for and all that we fear. We understand so little about them that their shadowed secrets are safe for a long time, I think. We can only lie back, settle into sleep and hope that we have 'sweet' dreams, instead of the biting, chasing dreams we dread at 2:34am.

Irony 101

Well, I hear that my little home town has recently been over run by bears stocking up for the winter ahead.

The local dump, where most of the bears have been gorging on garbage for generations and teaching there offspring the same, has recently been fenced off from the outside world. The bears, of course, find this incredibly frustrating, and have taken to raiding the neighborhoods and gardens of the locals.

Bears have been sighted sleeping IN dumpsters (presumably waiting on the next seating for dinner), resting on porches eating apples, demolishing garbage cans that unwary residents leave out and in general, making a mess.

This includes leaving evidence of their dinners in the form of large droppings down the main street and sidewalks of the town.
In fact, they've also plowed through my fathers fence and hedge in an effort to get at the fruit trees in the neighboring yard (I guess their entrance wasn't inviting enough!)

So now that the bears are considered 'nuisance' bears, and 'problem' bears, there's only one thing left to be done of course..SHOOT THEM ALL!
Oh yes, the wise people in charge have slaughtered almost 20 bears at last count. And now the townsfolk can sleep well, and the trees can bear fruit in safety.

They closed the dump because it was felt that the garbage wasn't very good for the bears.
I guess they were right.

A rant to myself.

....ummmm, okay, here it goes....

On smokers.
I have many things to say about smokers. Having vacillated between being a NON-smoker for almost 5 months now, and being (horrors) a 'smoker' (read in the sneer), I feel required, nay...obligated, to say something.

"Oh, Horrors" indeed.

I can't think of any other singularly devious addiction than smoking.
For instance. Cigarette butts. Strewn EVERYWHERE!
I USED TO STREW THEM EVERYWHERE! What was I thinking!!??!!!
UGH! And I didn't see fit to strew them just where I live, uh uh...no way, I tossed them all over Europe too! (and I offer humble apologies for it...in fact, if anyone wants to pay for me to go back and pick them up, I'd gladly...eh?...you're not going to pay for it? Rats.)

And far beyond the detrius I cast about, what about my LUNGS...and my FRIENDS lungs!!??

Sigh. You see. It's devious. It takes an otherwise intelligent, caring individual (I am referring to myself here) and turns them into a raving, littering thoughtless beast. (still referring to me...)

But I got better!

So that's my rant on smoking. I offer sincere condolences and multitudes of thanks to my friends and family members who managed to see me through the cloud of smoke I walked around in.

(p.s. November 24 is my 5 month mark. Yay me!)

It's a funny thing...

...I have a friend who is dying and fighting to live, and another 'friend' who is living and is fighting to die (and working hard at it), and another who struggles with life in general and I wonder what it is that dictates health and happiness or despair and dying amongst us.

Now, I don't believe there is a omnipotent being who hands out our fates...so it is by sheer dumb luck that my other friends lead happy contented lives?
No, that can't be it...I know very well that they have all worked, and continue to work (very hard, I might add) to have what they do.

So why joy for some and pain for others? Where's the rhyme? The reason?

It's an old question, I suppose. And I realize it has no answer.

Thus, I sit in my little apartment, sipping some red wine, listening to some old jazz...rolling my eyes as my cat snores (yes, he IS snoring) under my old and shaky coffee table, while I turn the pages of the book I'm reading and am extrordinarily glad that I have this to enjoy. For now.

Alas, my soothsaying has proven correct.

I told you so.

I told you.

Now we're all doomed.

AND, (my apologies to the Americans who DID NOT vote for Doubleyuh) it just proves that we are standing beside a country that believes in it's fear-mongering, mentally-disadvantaged, paranoid president.

We are all in big trouble, but none will suffer more that 'Merica itself...and she's gonna take the rest of us out with 'er.

The Election Down South

At the risk of sounding like I'm a fear mongerer (is that a word?)...I have to say (I HATE to say) that I believe that Doubleyuh Bush is going to be re-elected.

Don't ask me why I would harbour such trecherous thoughts, but I do, and folks, we're all in trouble if I'm right.
I honestly believe that once he's done as much damage as he can in the parts of the world that he's obliterating, it won't be long till he turns his baleful gaze our way.
After all, we're a successful (okay, there's room for argument there) nation. Pretty content as far as all things go, but we didn't back Doubleyuh.
We left him to go forth on his own to wage war, I foresee revenge on his mind.

I hope not. But he's a paranoid president and he's not very clever.

Happy Thoughts...

I was GOING to title this "Foolish People and the Crappy Things They Do", but you know...there are to many negative occuring in this world everyday to sit and brood about them.

Thus, the title. Now I have to find something to be happy about!
I don't think I'll be happy that this morning some 'recently moved in neighbours' left all of their SODDEN cardboard boxes lying in my cars path when I tried to get to work this morning.

In retrospect, I suppose I can be happy that it wasn't raining as I stood outside trying to move all the wet boxes that ripped apart when I touched them, scattering the garbage contents around, out of my way so I could get to work.

Gee, yeah. I think I'll be happy about that.

I suppose I COULD be happy that I have a job to go to, whilst so many are unemployed.
I would be happier being independently wealthy, so I guess there are levels of happiness.
On a scale of 1 to 10 I'm a '4 happy' having a job.
On a scale of 1 to 10 I'm a '10 happy' I don't have a job working out in the rain.

I guess it IS all relative.

Okay, I'm happy with the possibility of being HAPPIER! ok universe, I'm ready!

I'm a BLOGGER!

OCT. 27 2004

Oh, it's AMAZING how a free anything can inspire realms of creativity...
For instance, I would have never envisioned myself 'blogging' away before 10 minutes ago, but give me something free and I'm ALL over it!

Suddenly I so excited about posting my thoughts for all my friends to see...I certainly hope that they are found to be amusing and fun filled! (my thoughts, I mean.. not my friends...I mean, they are already amusing and fun filled...oh never mind!)

My hats off to Kim for being so much more computer savvy than I, and of course, more interesting...I'll work up to it!