I really do love the wee hours of the morning. It’s when I get to write, think about what’s going on in my life, uninterrupted by the phone, TV or the needs of anyone else, except the occasional head bump to my arm while I’m typing by Simon. He’s always here with me, by my side on the bed, attempting to use his opposable thumbs to edit if he doesn’t like a particular phrase. Tough room to be sure. He’s pure and simple, when he wants attention, he just head butts me, even if I’m in a sound sleep or I wake up to a claw in my head, nudging me gently awake.

I don’t sleep much,but I do cat nap. I’ll grab a few hours, wake up and enjoy the stillness of the night, and the occasional infomercial, until I tire a few hours later and grab another hour or so. I’ve been this way my whole life. I remember being four years old and my mother completely vexed with me as I would never take a nap. I just don’t require a lot of sleep, and god forbid I miss something going on in the world.

As I look at the time, 5:55 a.m. I’ve already been up for well over an hour, figuring out my day, and reflecting on my week. The possibility exists that I will be watching a four year old boy today, my roommates son, while his dad runs up to his rental property to clean it out for the cleaning woman. Hah. I’ve seen his cleaning woman and the pics of her tramp stamp in his Iphone, but whatever..call it what you will, no judgments here. Actually it is on the up an up as he was going to take little guy with him, but I thought it was just be too difficult for him to get done what he needs to do with a four year old underfoot. He didn’t want to ask me to “babysit”, I don’t think of that in those terms.

I like kids, and I thought it would be a good time today, to do some art and crafty project for both of his parents for Christmas. I’m torn on doing the stepping stones, as I’ve gone down that path before with another five year old, and not that it was a disaster, but it does take 48 hours for cement to cure correctly. I haven’t found the child yet with that patience level to see the finished product.

But he is all boy, so I may scrap that idea, and just go with building a rocket. My back yard is big enough and while it may not be Cape Canaveral or have the advantage of Ed Buckbee counting down the launch, its half and acre and clear of trees, except on the outer perimeters. This only comes to mind now, as little guy was missing him mom last night, dad was waiting to read to him, and well, to be honest, I am nothing if not soft and comfy to snuggle against when tears threaten. I had him calmed down, thumb in mouth, holding his blanket snuggled against me in the office chair, whispering words back and forth, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a left over firework from the summer on the bookcase.

He leaped off of my lap and therefore but the grace of the Flying Wallendas, was I able to stop him from careening up three shelves to get his said goal.

Truly, I thought I had childproofed my house, but a four year old with determination? I hope he keeps his ability to think outside the box as he does now at this age, when a bright and shiny object grabs his attention.

You think animals can get into odd places? I don’t want to know or have him recreate the acrobats necessary on various occasions when I spot one of my treasures in his little hands. I know I’ve pulled out the slide rule and graph paper, and run the necessary logarithms to calculate just how far out of reach something has to be, grinning in satisfaction with my endeavors. Oh, I’m prepared in my fat little mind. Generally in 2.5 minutes he blows my theories right out the door. Simon, in his cat like way, is usually adding his cat like laughter as well, telepathically sending the four year old messages, “Yes, you have walked the rice paper, and grabbed the marble from my paw” which does lead me to believe in conspiracy theories.

Simon himself is still sporting some suspicious wounds on his head. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what he was rubbing against or gotten into for about a week. Finally I believe I found the source of his woe. Two broken Egyptian perfume bottles and a lifeless carcass of a moth in the upstairs windowsill. I’m lucky that’s all the damage, and it was a clean kill.

I just wish I could get him to sweep up after himself when he’s done, or have the common courtesy to attempt to hide the evidence.

Simon has just stalked off in a huff, headed down the hallway to where the four year old is sleeping. My guess is that he starts whispering in his ear, about the secret hiding place in the hall closet where I keep all the breakables. I think I need a nap.

Original post date 2007-11-03

You should see my other life.

I’m comforting myself with that thought as I’m vacuuming up the millionth hairball that Simon has pulled out of his belly. Hey, that’s how he comforts himself, neurotic or not.

But as I was vacuuming and got to thinking about parallel universes, quantum mechanics and the potential validity of it all, I wondered how my counter part might be existing.

My first thought was she must be living on the Riviera, cocktail in hand, tanned and my guess is a svelte size 5. Money doesn’t appear to be an issue and damn she is really yucking it up and hellooooo stud man.

Bitch.

Hmmph. Generally, the thought process is, that parallel universes would act independently of us, not as a mirror, and they do exist as Hugh Everett, figured out. But then I got to thinking if that is so, then maybe they are acting out every other decision good or bad, we make. Carrying that thought further and thinking the other me must have it so much better, I thought maybe I’ll turn things around in 2008 and do things very differently than I have done for the past forty four years. I mused on that for but a moment, then realized that was kind of arrogant of myself, and what if my life, is the result of her actions?

Well, I had to stop vacuuming for a moment and ponder that ponderable and how could I learn from that and use it to my advantage? Do I really want to screw over my other self even in another dimension? Hardly, if she has that yin/yang pull on mine. Cause and effect, and an equal and opposite reaction and all that noise.

So to be fair to myself in both worlds, I decided to stay the course of what I know and let experience pull me through. If I reflect on this past year, it definitely has had its moments, but at the end of the day, the good outweighed the bad. I’ve found old friends from the past and have rekindled those relationships, held onto the ones that are important and vital to me, and have learned I have to let some go, no matter how hard it is, but they were poisoning my soul. I’ve lost important people in my life, but as long as we remember them, they truly are never gone. Financially, phht..ok, not my best year, but I did what I had to do, and I’m rebuilding my credit. Globally, well hell, thank god everything is cyclical and I’m glad that the only thing constant is change. Just learn to roll with it, you may get dizzy, throw up a few metaphorical times, but that’s LIFE. I believe its the same in this world or the next.

I wish everyone a happy and safe holiday, and here’s to the future me, whatever I/we do!

I’ve got to make an appointment to shave the cat.

Original post date 2007-12-24

2008-01-20

I’ve never really ever considered myself innocent or naive, if anything somewhat jaded and uhm, “experienced” would be a fair word to use. Not to go into too much detail, but I was having a conversation about donkey punching that would curl most peoples toes yesterday morning.

So I found myself taken aback at the mall last night, in a “tween” store, and fortunate not to have been carted off to jail.

I’ll rewind a bit of my afternoon that led me to my near miss of an indictment.

Normally I’m not the kind of girl to be found hanging out in a bar on a Saturday afternoon, but I was hanging out with a professional drinker as he calls it, so you play in his arena. We actually started in the mall at a Houlihans, but that is one chain that has gone downhill. The food was ok, and we had to coax the 24 year old bartender for proper silverware, clean ashtrays, just the little things that puts the “tend” in bartender. After we finished our lunch, we decided to go to his main hangout, even though I don’t like the place acoustically . This was ok for a couple of hours, he wandered off to play liars poker across the bar, and I was left talking to a very nice guy, who gave me a reason to come back to PA if California doesn’t work out. He eventually left, and I was now four and a half hours into sitting in a smoke filled bar. Cough.

I remembered my girlfriend was going to be at the mall (the one I had left hours earlier) to have her daughters ears pierced for her 13th birthday. I gave a quick call, and was surprised that for one; her cell phone was on and it rang, and two she actually answered it. I quickly ascertained that the deed was done, but she would be there for about another hour. I hadn’t seen her since the end of December, so I told her I’d come over for a while.

I bid my friend goodbye, but told him I’d call him back in an hour or so as I eyed his growing stack of Washington’s I knew he was fine.

I didn’t zoom back over, more of an extended meander, as I turned out the wrong exit, but found them quickly enough in Aeropostale. First I hate walking into these stores, just for the fact they are overpriced and poorly made. The clothes, not the stores. I hope they are up to the Boca codes.

If I’m going to pay to have anyone’s name on my body..its only going to be mine. Plus names are close to a print, and lord knows I hate a print on me.

Our newly pierced thirteen year old is still young enough at heart to throw her arms around me in public and give me a hug. She introduced me to her other friend, who must be the most sheltered girl this side of the convent, even if they are Methodist. The other two girls were down the way in one of those soap shops, having lost interest in picking out clothes for their friend.

We wandered down the hall passing other teen stores, and the two decided they must go into Zumie or something that was trendy, but had 60% and clearance signs plastered all around. My girlfriend and I decided to wait it outside and catch up on the last few weeks. I of course told her how I fell down-again- New Years Eve..more stairs, alcohol and a dog named Fudge were involved, hence me still limping around having re injured the same spots. As she shook her head and gently chided me, her daughter and friend came out of the store, gleefully clutching handfuls of stickers.

Happy with their score, we went to find the other girls who were busy sniffing shampoo and soaps. I checked out some of the scents, but nothing was worth waiting in line twenty minutes for a three dollar bar of soap. I heard a commotion and realized it was coming from the score of four girls, so I went over to find out what was wrong. Did I mention that these girls are all from church, and I haven’t stepped foot in the United Methodist Church in years? Seriously, I think gargoyles would come to life screeching if I walked past.

So when I overheard the oldest saying to the youngest, “Did you pay for those stickers? They’re a dollar a piece” and the coinciding crestfallen look on their faces, I simply snorted and said, “Oh shit.”

This elicited a glare from my girlfriend. Oops. Well, she made the mom decision that they were to take them back and apologize for an innocent mistake, while I laughed and pointed out how they ‘Bauvered.’

For those who may not have read my posts prior, to “Bauver” v. used in its proper context is the unintentional act of shoplifting, realizing it after you’ve left the store, and still not paying. We decided this was second generation and a “Bauverette” since they were returning said merchandise. Do as I say child, not as I do.

The good news was, they actually came back with all 16 stickers, they were free, so they divided them amongst themselves with a little help from mom. I was going to leave, but I agreed to go to one last store, which is more cheaply made clothes but at least priced accordingly. I won’t mention the name, in case this isn’t over and someone google it and sees something written here, and takes it as evidence against me.

The youngest sheltered girl thought it would be fun, and had things been in our size as well, we would have joined them, but they all decided to try on handfuls of prom dresses. I knew this would take a while so I sat down and the girly girls piled all their belongings around me to watch. No problem as my still sprained feet and ankles were hurting and any alcohol in my system had long worn off.

These girls may have been 13 or 14 but they went with their instinct of pulling the most spangled, low cut, sequined dresses off the rack. Well, I admit the one girl had a beautiful chiffon dress on that only another size zero could wear. She handed me her camera and asked me if I could take her picture. Sure,no problem. As the other girls came out of the dressing room, they all asked for pictures and group shots which I happily obliged.

Click. Click. Ok, turn, Click, and on it went, and they either went back into the dressing room, those that remembered to prop the door, or crawled under because they were locked out. I saw a funny shot of four sets of bare feet sticking out from underneath the doors, and snapped a quick shot of that as well. Another set of dresses another set of shots, and the next thing I knew the manager was bearing down toward me, loudly proclaiming I could not take pictures in the store.

I was befuddled for a moment, thinking no way in hell are these designer clothes and what’s the big deal. I looked at her quizzically and asked why I couldn’t take pictures for these girls to show their mothers, etc. I was vamping for time, as the look on this woman’s face was anything but friendly.

She capitulated and stated that I could not take pictures where I was with the dressing rooms behind the girls. Suddenly I realized that I was setting myself up to be branded a pedophile at best, and I could be sued if I was taking a picture and someone else walked out of the dressing rooms. Holy shit.

At this point, the youngest sheltered girl, came out of the dressing room, and wanted her picture taken. I explained she had to move further up in the store, and the manager stopped her, telling her she couldn’t go any further as her bra was showing under the spaghetti straps.

Now even this I thought was a little over the top, if not downright ironic. I told the manager to look again. This little miss was the only one to try the dresses on, fully over all her clothes, jeans included, it wasn’t her bra that was showing, but her shirt. None of these dresses were designed for anything but a strapless bra if one at all.

Nowhere in my mind, was anything remotely perverse about taking pictures of girls who were just having fun playing dress up, but how sad that I was sure somewhere employee manuals had to be rewritten to address this issue in the day of digital imagery. I thanked the manager for pointing it out and explaining, and chatted her up about the amount of clothing on the dressing room floor and what their rooms must look like at home. That garnered her sympathy for how people treat others in the retail world, and at the same time, gathered up the balance of the girls and had them hang everything on the rack and we got out of the store quickly.

The oldest of the four stated, “Whose idea was that to try dresses on, that was really fun!” as she was the one who handed me her camera.

My reply was, “Whose idea was it to hand me a camera and get me in trouble? I may not be a 14 year old girl but I play one on the internet” which elicited laughter and my Doodle, proclaiming, “Do you see why we keep her around?”

Suddenly the sheltered one got a look of horror on her face, turned to me and asked “You’re just kidding right?”

I expect I’ll be getting a phone call from her parents lawyer soon.

Original Posting Date 2008-02-10

The following post isn’t intended as a “political statement” against any one party, its more about the apathy of America.

Dr. Paul isn’t going to stand a chance of winning a nomination and he says won’t run a third time. Our democratic nominees are abysmal, Obama who epitomizes socialism, “healthcare for everyone”, and guess what, you the taxpayer are going to pay for it. Hillary Rob’em Clinton, who I guess with some very creative investments pulled in over 250 million for her services.

Senator “Songbird” McCain, who plays on his war hero status. Sure, breaking military code and selling the US out to the Vietnamese for three years, does not a hero make. By the way..Songbird was the nickname given to him by the Viet Con, and lets not forget above all else he was part of the “Keating Five”.

For those of you who don’t remember the collapse of the Lincoln Savings & Loan in 1989, five senators, Cranston, Glenn, Reigle, DeConcini and McCain, all benefited from a collective 1.3 million dollars in campaign funds, and asked that Chief Executive Gray of the House Banking Committee ease off looking into Lincoln Savings & Loan.

McCain is the only Senator left who still serves in the Senate. Not exactly presidential material, and if you hate the way the country is running now, it will be more of the same with McCain.

Mike Huckabee our Southern Baptist, rock and roll contender, has an interesting theory that you can’t separate church and state. Scary thought coming off the heels of that other cracker Donald Rumsfeld. Its fire and brimstone coming our way if this man of absolutes gets into office. Google his ass sometime and see how unbending his religious beliefsare. Our only hope was Dr. Ron Paul, who god love em, was just too intelligent for main stream America.

I actually read a comment on another site that stated, “We elect people to be smarter than us — and they don’t always make the best long term decisions for our country.”

Fortunately another person tried to correct that by stating, “We elect people to REPRESENT us, not be smarter than us.”

The argument believe it or not, was about the government regulating oil prices and capping it at $100.00 a barrel. Not exactly Rhodes Scholars, just Joe Everyday who posts comments online who don’t understand how the economy works.

Take a look to the Futures Market on Wall St, they’re the ones who control the daily highs and lows, and make money hand over fist, not just the oil companies who actually do the work to get the oil, refine it and sell it.

My problem with this country anymore is that everything is taken at face value and no discretionary logic is applied. We pick Presidential candidates as if we were betting on the Superbowl. Our choices are two crooks, a man with no plan but big ideas and a holy roller. Anyone of these candidates who end up taking the White House are going to throw us into the worst economic crises ever, unless we can eliminate the democratic edge in the House and Senate.

The example below has been floating around for the last couple of years online, however watching how the Primaries are boiling down, you have to stop and think about what is worse for this nation.

There was a chemistry professor in a large college that had some exchange students in the class. One day while the class was in the lab, he noticed one young man, an exchange student, who kept rubbing his back and stretching as if his back hurt. The professor asked the young man what was the matter. The student told him he had a bullet lodged in his back. He had been shot while fighting communists in his native country who were trying to overthrow his country’s government and install a new communist regime. In the midst of his story, he looked at the professor and asked a strange question.

He asked: ’Do you know how to catch wild pigs?’

The professor thought it was a joke and asked for the punch line.

The young man said that it was no joke.

“You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. The pigs find it and begin to come everyday to eat the free corn. When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are used to coming. When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence. They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in the last side. The pigs, which are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat that free corn again. You then slam the gate on them and catch the whole herd. Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn. They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity.”

The young man then told the professor that is exactly what he sees happening in America. The government keeps pushing us toward Communism/Socialism and keeps spreading the free corn out in the form of programs such as supplemental income, tax credit for unearned income, tax cuts, tax exemptions, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops (CRP), welfare, medicine, drugs, etc. while we continually lose our freedoms, just a little at a time. (aka-“Welfare”- commonly called “Entitlements”, to be politically correct.)

One should always remember two truths:

1) There is no such thing as a free lunch

2) and you can never hire someone to provide a service for you cheaper than you can do it yourself.

If you see that all of this wonderful government ’help’ is a problem confronting the future of democracy in America, you might want to send this on to your friends. If you think the free ride is essential to your way of life, then you will probably delete this.

But God help you when the gate slams shut.

From 2007-06-25

A month or so back during my nephew’s graduation party, some of the talk got around to reminiscing when he was just a baby, and how fast he has grown. Typical conversation when you realize just how short life is and how fast life can pass you by. Personally there are days when I still feel like I’m Seventeen Again..thank you Annie Lenox.

But then the conversation rolled around to another one of my infamous gift giving blunders.

My niece and nephew never ask for much, but whenever a birthday, or holiday came around, they would give out the same list to everyone. Which was kind of annoying as I like to give them what they want, but not so they end up with duplicate gifts. So one Christmas I made sure that Kevin gave me a list he hadn’t given anyone else. It was in my sisters handwriting and because I had given him a cd player earlier, what better way to build your collection without having to mail back your selections monthly ever if its only for a penny?

My eyes quickly scanned the list, and I immediately blew off the clothing. I don’t give practical gifts. Hate getting them, won’t give them. That’s the difference between Want Shopping and Need Shopping. Want is so much better. For example, I want a new cellphone, but I don’t need it. I do need my water not to be contaminated. I’ll hold off on the phone.

I also love to shop. If I thought I could be a personal shopper I would. Its beyond retail therapy. Its the hunt and finding the perfect gift. To me that is all part of the gift, the effort given to shop, down to the presentation and card. Well, that and 12lbs of wrapping paper and sealing every seam with tape. Yes, I did have stock in 3M thank you. The giftee must work for the prize.

So shopping list in hand I hit the stores. All the cd’s he wanted were really not in stock or I didn’t feel appropriate. So finally I settled on a name on his list that I had never heard of, “Red Umbrose.”

I searched high and low. I asked people in the stores, only to be met with blank stares. I knew this had to be the perfect gift, because this group’s music was so hard to come by. I searched in vain. Finally after several weeks of searching every venue I could think of, and asking every store owner and stranger out there, I chose another one of his selections and glumly headed to the house Christmas afternoon.

The family was gathered admiring all the loot, and I walked in bags in hand to be Pamta Claus. When I got to Kevin I simply handed him his gifts, and waited for the right moment. The family took turns,opening their gifts to oohs and ahs, and Kevin opened his gift and smiled and thanked me.

At that point I had to tell him about my search, and how sorry I was that I couldn’t find this group The Red Umbrose and what exactly do they sing, because everyone I asked had no clue.

The room was silent for about three seconds before everyone started laughing.

What, I wanted to know was so damn funny?

“They’re soccer shorts Aunt Pam, I needed them for school.”

Oh.

I took the well deserved ribbing as I deserved it. Ask no questions, look like a fool.

But the story doesn’t end there.

His birthday is in February. In that time, I decided to burn him a cd of some of his favorite songs over the years. The only difference was, I designed the cover, quite well I may add, of the hit group performing all the cover songs. That’s right. When he opened his cd for his birthday he finally had the one and only copy by The Red Umbrose. Ya gotta admit, its a great name for a band. LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!! THE RED UMBROSE!!! and the crowd goes wild.

But in my defense a single woman without kids would have no reason to know a name brand of soccer shorts or any kind of sport gear for that matter. Which got me into trouble one more time.

Generally after the 4th of July, our office switches to summer hours, so our office closes on Fridays around 1:00. My married girlfriends use this as free time in their day for themselves, when hubby and kids think they are still at work.

Last year, my girlfriend Janet who works with me, and her sister Paula, got in the habit of meeting for lunch at the Winner’s Circle and knocking a few martini’s back and maybe an appetizer or two.

What’s nice about the place is there is outside dining, and it isn’t crowded during that time period.

We had settled into our table and I noticed there were some new drinks on the menu, involving lots of pineapple juice, vodka and something else concocted to make this awesome pineapple martini. It sounded refreshing so we all ordered them. And drank them. Quickly. On an empty stomach. The first thing to go on Paula is her legs. Janet and I get the giggles. Our waitress, who was a tiny little thing, no bigger than a minute..you know the type, young blonde, skin still firm, can wear clothes the same size as a Barbie doll? Nice girl though, not her fault we’ve grown into our baby fat..whew…finally.

Anyway, she came back to our table to get our food order and noticed the empty glasses. Sure, we’ll have another round! She took our drink orders, because lord knows I never drink the same thing twice, and our food order. I was across the table from the sisters and as our waitress walked away, I heard Paula say under her breath, “Filthy Whore.”

What? I was dumbstruck, I mean yeah she’s a tiny little thing, so I called her out on that. Loudly. Damn martinis.

“Paula what the hell did our waitress do to you?’ Oh my god.

“What are you talking about ?’

“Why did you call our waitress a filthy whore?”

” I didn’t”, she replied, ” I said “Sophie’s Shorts”

Well, with that we were just about crying with laughter. Once again, my mind worked overtime in my analyses. I thought this was one of the girls her husband had cheated with, and wow what chance that she would be our waitress or that she knew her name.

We just about peed ourselves.

When you have friendships that last long periods of time, you develop your own language and inside jokes. So to utter..Filthy Whore out loud still bring chuckles the way Two Buckets for Trout will.

So last week, it was said in passing, as I told my girlfriends I was sharing these moments with the online world.

Filthy whore, Sofie’s shorts.

But I said to Janet, “Ya know, I still don’t know what was wrong with her pants.”

‘What?”

‘Sophie’s shorts. What was wrong with them?”

I should have stopped there.
“Not Sophie, Soffe Shorts..for soccer.”
Jesus with the soccer shorts already, we both lost it again.

So as I was watching a Dane Cook DVD last night, yes I think he is funny in his random way,and his antics aren’t unlike somethings I think to do in public to the amusement of myself and friends, I found myself chuckling at an incident in my recent past.

Dane has a bit where he likes to go into fast food places, and a serious as he can be (his Van Dam face), points to a non existant item on the large overhead board and orders it. He claims you get the same reaction everytime, where the attendent will glance back in confusion, then search the pictures on the register for said item, finally giving up with a ” I believe we are out of that sir” before he disolves into a fit of giggles. It’s definately something I would do, so I can enjoy the moment.

So lets drift back in time, its Saturday and my girlfriend and I were out shopping for a present for her youngest daughter’s birthday. It was just around lunchtime, and we were feeling a tad peckish, so the decision was made to grab a bite to eat before we hit the stores.

As it was Spring and thunderstorms are prone to pop up anytime, the once sunny sky had turned threatening when we made our way into the store. Not a good day to be outside that was for sure as I noticed more storm clouds approaching.

I’m not too big of a fan of KFC, and this one was kind of dirty , so I ordered a minimum amount of food to ingest and stepped to the side to await my not so happy meal. My friend however, has a knack for ordering, not unlike Meg Ryan’s character in “When Harry Met Sally” and it takes a while for her to place her order.

I took this time to observe the various goings on around me, and I love to people watch as well.

An older woman had approached the counter, wearing some jaunty looking duds to say the least. Typical older LL Bean look; khaki skirt, blue polo, flat little keds and even a Gilligan hat. She sure looked like she was ready to step on the boat, so it didn’t really surprise me when she said, “Two buckets for trout.”

“Hmm, I thought to myself, guess she’s going fishing in her get up, what a great idea.” I didn’t see her fishing partner around, but I guessed they must be close, and came in because of the impending rain, caught some big trout and needed some empty buckets to put them in.

The clerk behind the counter produced two red and white buckets and I could tell by the noise as they hit the counter they were full. Then the cashier asked her for $13.75 for which said nautical nanna opened her purse and pulled out her wallet.

Perplexed, I scanned the overhead board and I know I hadn’t been to the Colonels in a while, I still didn’t see any trout on the menu or any new jingle come to mind that they had added Kentucky Fried Fish to the menu. I couldn’t stand there anymore, and I went to get a table. My girlfriend followed and was arranging her items off of her tray while I sat there perplexed still trying to figure out the transaction. I was working my brain overtime, trying to process what I just watched.

I have to say, I’ve been told that I think too much. But somethings are just interesting enough to wonder about in the recesses of my mind. But my girlfriend noticed I was barely eating and not saying much.

She asked me what was wrong, so I said to her, “Did you see the lady beside you who came in with the skirt?” and gave her the Reader’s Digest version of the events. I even went on to explain, I don’t even see a car in the parking lot towing a boat. Hmmph.

With that she broke out laughing, knowing my propensity to over analyze a situation and said to me, “Did it ever occur to you that her last name is Trout?”

OOOOOH!! At which point I broke into big belly laughs and I believe soda even shot out of my nose as I chortled and snorted, doubled over in laughter.

During the rest of the day, either one of us could be found laughing out loud thinking about it, and even today it still brings a smile to my face, when I have one of my moments. I got a ton of them over the years, funny insane moments with the girlfriends that the issuance of a couple of words, can double us over in laughter. ‘Filthy Whores.’ which may or may not be explained in another post. Good Times. Good times indeed.

While perusing another person’s blog I ran across this quote attributed to Thomas “Nostradamus” Jefferson as I like to call him. Well not really as I’ve never called him anything before, but maybe you will after you read his quote from 1802 or so.

Think about it..I don’t really want to house my money under my mattress, as for one, I’m the worst sleeper out there as it is, and b) talk about the Princess and the Pea…so any currency under my bed is going to be uncomfortable and misconstrued.

There’s always been some kind of banking as we know the big JC got a bug up his ass and threw the money changers out of the temple, turned over their tables and caused a ruckus. Matthew 21.12 Now, nothing for nothing but rumor has it they had no green lollipops that day, and his blood sugar was a little low.

But concepts which are so easy on paper…I put my money in, I take my money out, and I’ll pay you a bit of rent (interest) for holding my money  gets distorted.

I’m thinking about all of this as I was very staunch in my views that the banks can’t fail. During the Great Depression, over 9000 banks went under and we lost 1/3 of our money supply. That was when money actually counted for something and had value and was backed by the gold standard.

Today, you may as well wipe your face with your dinner napkin and take it to Walmart and use it. That’s about as much value our currency has, since we run out, the government just prints more. There’s not a shiny stack of gold in Fort Knox adding to the value of your dollar, and the bailout that was supposed to help Americans got pushed through Congress so fast…puhlease..they forgot to tell the banks what to do with it.

You mean with all the time they had, and it wasn’t an overnight, leave the candle burning, and where’s my quill and ink when I need it thing, no one remembered to legislate…TELL THEM ITS NOT FOR BONUSES AND IT HAS TO BE ACCOUNTABLE!

So 350 billion, just..disappears. Well not really, we know where it went we just didn’t approve.

Ok, so we still have 350 billion left of our tax dollars on the line.

The big O, no not Oprah or Orgasm, but definitely a black excretion named Obama, and the same democratic led congress is dealing with the balance.

So Take Two (clap board) this is what they are promising this time.

1. Foreclosure mitigationEven after being prodded by lawmakers and other members of the Bush administration, Paulson steadfastly refused to use bailout cash for foreclosure mitigation.  “The Obama Administration will commit substantial resources of $50-100 [billion] to a sweeping effort to address the foreclosure crisis,” Larry Summers, the incoming director of the National Economic Council, said in a letter to top lawmakers. “We will implement smart, aggressive policies to reduce the number of preventable foreclosures by helping to reduce mortgage payments for economically stressed but responsible homeowners, while also reforming our bankruptcy laws and strengthening existing housing initiatives.”

2. Tracking the cash. “The Treasury will require detailed and timely information from recipients of government investments on their lending patterns broken down by category,” Summers said in the letter. “Public companies will report this information quarterly in conjunction with the release of their 10Q reports.”

3. Executive compensation restrictions:The Obama administration also says it will put more restrictions on executive pay by requiring “that executive compensation above a specific threshold amount be paid in restricted stock or similar form that cannot be liquidated or sold until the government has been repaid,” Summers said in the letter.

4. Limiting acquisitions:The use of bailout cash to finance acquisitions has also stirred controversy. As a result, the Obama administration has made promises to restrict certain deals. In implementing the second $350 billion, the incoming administration will “preclude use of government funds to purchase healthy firms rather than to boost lending,” Summers said in the letter.

[Source USNews ]

Ok, that’s good on paper..but we all know everything like I’ve said a million times before, looks good on paper. Wait I’m sorry, I can’t say it..do you see the loopholes in every statement? Suffice it to say, the more things CHANGE, the more things stay the same.

But lets take it the extreme and as so many people were against the bailout then what? The banks fail, we lose all
of our money, the country goes down and as we’ve been witnessing the global economy is right in the toilet along with it. Jobs are lost, homes are lost, businesses close and we’re standing around looking at each other wondering what has value now to trade and live by.

See, somebody always wants something and sees value where no one else might. The ancient Romans, used and controlled salt flats in western European and Mediterranean until about 400 AD when the flats became flooded and they had to move inland.

But where there was once a thriving economy based on the availability to produce and trade salt, once the seas rose and wiped out the flats, the general population fell as the salt trade almost disappeared. The Romans then were forced to move their operations (outsourcing) to such remote hideous locations such as the Dead Sea and Asian and African salt mines in desert flats. These then became havens for the Europeans, as they followed the salt trail.

It wasn’t until 700 AD or 300 years later when the waters receded again and voila the salt grabbers were there and ready and let the fighting commence! Suddenly an abundance of salt, based on the theory of how valuable it was, missing the obvious function of supply and demand, and salt monopolies were born.

Concurrently, gold, having been used as a commodity for oh, the last 3000 years, from 700 BC to 1930 when salt fell out of flavor.  Then we segued into paper and silver currency from the 30’s to the 70’s then paper and base metals with no backing of silver or gold for the last 40 years, and as of 8/15/71 the “floating currency” was born, courtesy of Tricky Dick Nixon.

Why is this important? It closed the gold window held by all other nations as the reserve behind their own currencies.

What’s the best way to gain political power? No not through force and war, though it does go hand in hand. Newp, devalue the currency.

There is no subtler, no surer means of overturning the existing basis of society than to debauch the currency. The process engages all the hidden forces of economic law on the side of destruction, and does it in a manner which not one man in a million is able to diagnose.
John Maynard Keynes – The Economic Consequences of the Peace (1919)

So here we are, a nation that has outsourced is production, devalued our own currency, and become a nation of whiners and consumers.

So I don’t know about the rest of you folk, but personally I’m going to hoard the Morton’s and anything  I’ve bought off of QVC and trade my worthless paper and buy up anything shiny I see on  Ebay and in pawn shops.

Originally published Jan 2009, yet it still stands today in 2012.

( I originally penned this in 2009, yet it still stands today)

I’m not really one to write to politicians, but today I had it.

I went into my spam email, and fittingly there was something from Bob Casey’s office sitting there. I followed the link to his page, and it just struck a nerve as he’s sitting there, up Obama’s ass, and patting himself on the back for such a great job he’s doing. Phht.

So I sent this letter to his office, I’m sure I won’t get the response I’m really expecting.

Dear Mr. Casey,

Just to set the record straight I didn’t see a category, so I just chose one.

The entire current administration, is corrupt. We know it, you know it. You can’t continue to delve into the rhetoric and believe your own publicity. I won’t say I’m a staunch Libertarian, but if you ran your personal household, the way this country is run, you’d be bankrupt in a month. You can’t spend money you don’t have. You can’t expect taxpayers to continue to lose their income, and still have a tax base.

The economic stimulus plan is a joke. The President is a joke, a bad lawyer joke at that. I find it ironic that we continue to send troops to other countries to give them democracy, yet we give up our rights daily. You can’t legislate morality, you can’t continue to enable Americans not to work, and expect the government to take care of them. Truly not what the founding fathers were discussing when they were penning our Constitution. The government is as I remember it, “establish justice and ensure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, ensure domestic welfare, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity”  

I think everyone who gave up their lives is rolling in their grave looking at what the lot of the current “statesman” are allowing to happen to this nation. The United States has sold out, indebted ourselves to other countries, that we can’t possible repay. Back before there was Bankruptcy reform, the government urged consumers to declare bankruptcy and get out of debt. Well Mr.Casey, we are in a position now that may be inconceivable  at first, but with the economy in shambles, the US needs to practice what it preaches. We’re already in a global meltdown. We aren’t ever going to balance a budget that is trillions of dollars in the negative. We aren’t going to repay China, nor can we use the US as collateral anymore. What we are is a country that lives in fear. People want to point to the prior administration, but the reality is, could you imagine what the outcry would have been if we hadn’t reacted to 9/11? Osama did exactly what he wanted to do since 93 when he first attacked the World Trade Center. It was a symbol of prosperity, and he carefully executed with precision a way to destroy the West.

So instead of patting yourselves on the back for living off our backs, pull the best economists from the private sector and universities. We aren’t a wealthy and healthy society, its all smoke and mirrors. The toughest decisions to make aren’t popular, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to be made. We want to see real change Mr. Casey, not another campaign speech from the President.

We the People, will be watching and waiting for real economic progress and reform.

Thank you.


Uh oh, whats the unmarked car with tinted windows cruising up and down my street?

So..

I just finished reading “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened” by Jenny Lawson. Which is a good thing as I recommended it to my girlfriend for her book club before I even read it. Comedy/Humor is very hard to write..I went with my gut just by the reviews on Amazon, and I did find myself at once laughing out loud and questioning my sanity. Why, you may ask? It seems I found my writing doppelganger.

Now mind you my past isn’t filled with mostly dead animals and memories of my arm stuck in a cow vagina, for which I’m thankful for, however..I used to think I was normal. But as I read each page and went on her wild ride I started taking self test here http://www.psychologytoday.com/tests.

Mind you I’ve put myself through therapy before, twice as a matter of fact and I do highly recommend it. I don’t recommend taking online quizzes that just irritate the crap out of you, because you already know the answers. *sigh*

But back to my doppelganger. Now I’ve only read one of her books, and glanced at her website, but the one thing I know that has to be in the back of her head if she ever confronts it, is like me she just “knows” she will die of something embarrassing.

Case in point, I happen to be accident prone, either by going to fast, trying to do too many things and just plain bad luck. Did I ever mention that I’ve been damn near electrocuted three times in my life? First time I was young, curious and wanted to know how the sewing machine worked. So after dismantling it while it was still plugged in mind you, I stuck my curious 7 year old finger in the light bulb socket. ZZZZOTTT. Lesson learned.

Which somehow didn’t stick in my melon head when we fast forward 13 years or so later when I was dating my ex Brian. For his senior project at Temple he was filming a movie at his house. Being the good girlfriend, I was helping with everything from scripts, makeup, reading lines and…holding the lights. So there we were on a rainy Friday night..I remember being on the back porch..wet stones..lots of electrical cords and I was holding a backlight (metal pole with those huge lights balanced on top) and I reached for the metal screen door. ZZZZZZZZZZZOTTT! I shook for a good ten minutes after that jolt went through my body.

My last close call, as I now respect electric more than anyone should and I even stopped using electrical toys, batteries only folks, its just safer *wink* because to be honest I think that would not be the legacy or information I would want on my tombstone, Buzzed to Death..but my last foray into almost electrocution was simply housecleaning and definitely why I can justify a maid. There I was innocently vacuuming at my old town home, and I had Simon’s litterbox in the downstairs powder room. I had removed the head off the pole to suck up the litter when the vacuum turned over on its side while running. Still holding the vacuum, I spun around to pick it up and the hose/pole landed in the toilet inches from sucking water into the vacuum. Near death I tell you.

While Ms. Lawson is afraid of a Zombie Apocalypse and spends  a lot of her time figuring out how to address it when it happens, I have to deal with my husband and his “doomsday” preparedness. So far he’s bought a survival knife and a wind up /lightradio. He wound it up this weekend to show my girlfriend who was over, and was quite non plussed to find out he picked up some station where they were speaking Arabic or something. Personally I think he should have called the FBI as there must be a terrorist cell nearby that we picked up on our airwaves. However I did put my foot down when he decided that he was going to start buying MRE rations and fill the house with it. I did the only logical thing and blocked National Geographic channel on the TV and told him that I would not live in an underground house to avoid the Apocalypse. I’m too old to reproduce, everyone I know and love would be gone, so what’s the point? I’m too old to lead the Resistance and my guess we’d be outgunned by the aliens/enemies or whomever is going to do us in.

But I will recommend her book because at the end of the day, no matter how effed up you think your life is, someone will always have it harder/stranger/tougher than you ever think you will. For years I’ve put off ever writing my memoir because in my head..who would ever read it? After reading Ms Lawson’s “mostly true memoir” I’m second guessing myself. If it puts a smile on your face, and you feel better about yourself, then I think its my duty to put it on paper and make some sense out of it all. Though to be fair I will change the names to protect the guilty. I’m just that nice.