Mother's Day

Happy mother's day to all you mothers out there. It always seems to me that choosing to become a mother is possibly the most hopeful action one might undertake in this lifetime. It's also brave as hell too. Buddhists believe that each being we encounter was at one time or another our mother or our child, and that we would go far karmically as well as increase the amount of kindness in the world if we treated one another as such.

And yes, I'm plenty cognizant of the relationship challenges many of us face with our mothers, but because of the fundamental nature of the human parenting situation, the give and take, which on most of our parts involved a whole lot more taking than giving as we grew up... anyway, the following resonates with me, and it's early so I know it's one Buddhist or another that said it, I read it in something Dean Sluyter wrote - as long as we are at war with our parents we are at war with ourselves, until we have peace with our parents, we will not have peace with ourselves.

As always, just one of the random possibly inane thoughts running around my head, your mileage may vary and I may be wrong. And someday monkeys might fly outta my ass.

Hints from Hell

Yes, the fresh french fryed hell of IVRS and Muzak and hold. This'll tell you had to get a human on the phone.

http://www.gethuman.com/index.asp

Avon Lady?

Today's lunch discussion centers around the variety of catalogs available from our local Avon lady, popularly known as Evil. Well, because she is, evil that is.

When one is presented with the stereotypical Avon lady in the media, they are perky, spunky, polite, possibly obsequious and petite. Although petite, Evil ain't perky, not on her best day, nor obsequious. She proceeded to tell two of her best customers that shd did not give them the Mark catalog because they do not wear the scents or any makeup and the clothing selections only went up to XL. When one of the ladies protested, Evil pointed out now you know you ain't gonna get that big ol' arm up in no XL and don't let me talk about get that ass in there. And if you did get yourself in it, you'd better stay your ass up on the porch with that mess, fool.

Sure makes me want to run right up and buy me some Avon.

Chip of the Month Club

Who knew?

http://www.anchorsfoodfinds.com/chipofthemonth.html

Spring Fever

Periodically I get an energy surge that puts me on the active side of mischievous, as opposed to the just thinking about it side of mischievous. and yesterday I moseyed past a coworker who was enjoying a snooze. I was travelling with a friend at that point and she saw me whip out my phone, and thinking that I was going to snap a photo of sleeping beauty, she sprinted for the door trying desperately and failing to repress laughter. I didn't even think to snap a photo, I triggered my ring tone which as luck would have it is a snippet of the theme song from the movie, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, complete with rifle fire.

Yes, I guess I'm kinda evil.

So

I skipped town last week to go visit my sister M and her kids C, M and Z. Her husband was out of town on business during my visit so I will have to visit and harass him some other time. They're in Newport RI these days and well, one of these days I'll post some photos. It's beautiful there.

So now I'm back and uncertain as to what kind of energy I'm giving off because people from my past are appearing. D called me up out of the clear blue to see if I wanted to reiki the horse of a friend of a friend... maybe, which tends to beg the not. R, a former coworker/minion turned up at work today and wow, that woman is still a freakin' rollercoaster ride. So I'm wondering who the 3rd blast will be. V who was my reiki student for a while, one or another of my former classmates from massage school. Oh and yeah, there's a 25 year reunion coming up for that Catholic Penal institution I graduated from back in the drunken day. Further updates as events or inanity warrant.

Good Lord Ain't I Prolific?

So the homeowners association (or as I prefer to call it the homeowners ass.) arranged for powerwashing of the facades. Apparently, the powerwashes were quite diligent as I came home to backwash of the powerwash in my foyer. It's a good thing they didn't blow any slugs in here, I'd a been pissed.

Who Knew?

Again from AOL - Pretty in Pink

Although you may acquaint it with a bad case of the runs, Pepto-Bismol works double duty as a facial mask. Thrifty women looking for the benefits of a spa facial, apply the chalky pink substance to their face and let its salicylic acid, a great facial peel, do its duty. Some believe that Pepto may be even milder and gentler than most commercial salicylic products because the same ingredients that coats your tummy also coats the face.

I could segue into a smart anatomical remark say about tits and ass, but will refrain, cuz I'm classy like that.

I can't let go...

from AOL - Butt Really

Preparation H cream is marketed to treat hemorrhoids, but beauty queens have long used a tiny dab under the eyes to reduce bags and dark circles after a long night. One ingredient in Preparation H is shark liver oil, a folk remedy for skin conditions. In Canada, the cream is formulated with BioDyne, a yeast derivative thought to smooth wrinkles. However, the maker of Preparation H, states that the product is not to be applied on the face.

Yes, it fascinates and yes, I'm still looking for that answer about flavor. And having fed shark liver to the beasts in my house, I would fear the use of the big H on either my face or its intended locus. As Sharkbutt the cat has no qualms, none, about pawing open my mouth to peer inside for remnants of fish of any ilk, I cannot take the chance he'd be looking in any of my other girlish orifices.

Freakin' Taxes

I have not done my own taxes in years, instead entrusting them to my trusty friend Jim who does them with a swift diligence that impresses and amazes me. So I'd given him my assembled materials a week and a half ago, but he'd not been back to work having ended up in the hospital. I know the federales and the state owe me some coin so I flied my request for extension and Jim says they'll be done tomorrow.

NP.

Diligently Researched Tankless Water Heater

Ok, if I was running 1-800-clean-shit here, I could see getting a tankless water heater. But we're talking 4k and I just don't use enough hot water to warrant it. So we have a new tanked water heater, it's fabulous, water is hot and floor and more importantly ceilings are dry.

Son of a ...

I am a recovering worry addict, back when I was an active worry addict my major household concern was the hot water heater (yes, I realize, it might ought to have been the propensity for leaving the house with a stove burner on, but I digress.) My concern about the hot water heater was such that I replaced it first thing upon moving here ten years ago. Since said hot water heater does not appear to be panned (have a drain pan beneath it, in order that it might drain into said pan instead of say the kitchen ceiling) my concern was that it let rip and flood me house. Well, the good news is that it didn't do that. The leakage was small and relatively minor but of course, I discover it after 9 oclock last night. So, had to drain hot water heater, which should have been the hard part and was not. And had to turn the water off to the HWH which should have been the easy part but was not.

So yes, I blathering about all this to put off the inevitable cold shower and duly researching the magic that is a tankless hot water heater.

Good Thing, I'm Already Queen

You Should Rule Jupiter

Huge and hot, Jupiter is a quickly turning planet with short days and intense gravity. You are perfect to rule Jupiter, because you are both dominant and kind. You have great strength and confidence, but you never abuse your power. You are always right. Even if you make mistakes, you compensate for them... before anyone knows it. Headstrong and ambitious, you always have a goal in mind. You are optimistic and believe thing things will always work out.

What Planet Should You Rule?

Though Obviously Not Evil Enough

Where there be cats, there be hairballs. And often as I loll about in my recliner there is a cat perched just over my head. Last night that was downfall, I was merrily typing away at a blog posting that ended up on the wrong blog and Puppy the cat briskly horked what felt like a footlong hairball down my neck.

So the 64% Evil rating seems to not phase her one little bit. Goddamn it to hell.

How Evil Am I?

You Are 64% Evil

You are very evil. And you're too evil to care. Those who love you probably also fear you. A lot.

How Evil Are You?

Different Kind of Meme

Saw variations of this on a few blogs. My year in blogging, one can take the first paragraph of one’s first or last blogposting of the month for the past year. So here we go:

February 2008
As I've no doubt recounted here a time or two, I was raised Catholic and am now Buddhist, took some vows a few years ago. And it's interesting to sometimes hear how complex theories get dumbed down for the mainstream. I heard karma described as 'that's Buddhist for I'm rubber, you're glue'.

January 2008
Most days my commute consists of a 100 mile round trip and I decided to use my time slightly more wisely by listening to books on cd. So today, I'm listening to Pema Chodron "From Fear to Fearlessness". She speaks of maitri - loving kindness meditation and compassion and how we are connected to all beings. I've been doing a variation on the compassion meditation for years (having taken vows and such it's all part of the deal). I've heard several people speak on the subject, read about, listened to various other Buddhist teachers on the subject and gone to Buddha camp. and each time I've caught the part about being compassionate with oneself but it never really quite sunk in until today.

December 2007
I have been coughing up a lung for the better part of the last 10 days. And loath as I am to venture into a doc's office with the other germ spreaders (actually started into the doc in the box the other night but someone was vomicking into a waste can and I said to myself, "self, this here hack is not so bad", so I kept right on stepping.) Anyway, I hadn't previously realized that the antihistamines I take to keep the everyday allergens at bay (ya know, like the 3 cats) actually dry matters out so that I end up with this persistent evil cough. So, I've knocked off the friggin' antihistamines and the cough is dissipating finally. Yay!

November 2007
In a recent conversation with my friend S, we happened upon the topic of business casual. In her world, which is necessarily more formal than my world, business casual is casual clothing appropriate for business. In my world, business casual simply means your business is covered up, and when people come to work with their business showing we send people home.

October 2007
This one was entitled Epithets I’ve used more than once today.
Fucking moron
Quasi-literate sparrow fart
Living Proof that Evil and Moronic Can Peacefully Coexist
Fucking Idiot
Raving Douchebag
World's Only Living Brain Donor
Fucking Loon
Fartface
(This suggests what I’ve always suspected was true, I’m a foul mouthed relic with an extremely vivid vocabulary.)

September 2007
I sometimes get twisted up by mindfulness and my lack thereof, and then the even less mindful folk I'm often surrounded by, remind me that I'm not meant to get it all perfectly right. I just need to pay attention but if I pay too close attention I will lose my mind.

August 2007
While I am quite fluent in English, having spoken it all my life, I consider my native tongue to be Douchebag. Douchebag is a lot like English yet far more profane. Even when the preface douchebag is unuttered it is implied and at work it seldom remains unuttered these days.


July 2007
I have spent 23 years of the 46 working at the same place. 15 at the same job.
Spent 21 years, 10 months of it sober (some at the beginning, oddly more in the current phase of me life).




June 2007
Today is the 9th anniversary of Puppy the cat having adopted me. She was a grown cat at the time so I'm not sure of her age or date of birth but I am sure of what day she came home with me. So for the sentimental jackass part, to celebrate I ventured to Wegman's for a half pound of tuna (yellowfin, $21.99 lb. But it gets worse, I fire up the charcoal grill wait for the coals to become grey and hot for searing (but not too much because the cats don't like it) and grilled the tuna, sprayed with PAM for the grill but otherwise as is. No garlic, no lemon, no pepper no nothing. When it was done, I split it and seasoned mine and we sang happy birthday to Puppy(ok, so I sang and the other 2 just looked) and chowed on grilled tuna fish. It was lovely but I am a sentimental ass.

May 2007
My friend J and I were chatting via email and she asked me what animal does she bring to mind. Hers is a very leonine energy, coupled with a hawkish awareness and vigilance. So I said a lion hawk if there was such an animal. When I asked her what she thought I might embody, she said a wolf. Because, I'm a loner when I choose to be, social when I choose to be and mysterious. I can work with that.

April 2007
Got home at midnight on Friday, noticed a missive from the IRS in the mail, the were merely explaining that my serial killer like handwriting precluded them from reading my banking info to direct deposit my refund. If you've got to get mail from the IRS or the initials as I fondly refer to them, that's the kind to get.

March 2007
Wireless networking should be idiot proof for an ably accomplished idiot such as my self and my even more ably accomplished idiot friend but nooooooooooooooooooooooo..... Goddamn router.

Follow up to Why

Preparation H Ointment: Each tube contains: yeast as a live cell derivative (Bio-Dyne: Skin Respiratory Factor) 1% and shark liver oil 3%. Nonmedicinal ingredients: chlorhexidine gluconate, falba, flavor, lanolin, mineral oil and petrolatum. Tubes of 25, 50 and 75 g

No specifics to be gained aside from flavor. I'm guessing the shark liver oil is more zesty with a nice lemony flavor but we may not ever know.

Now my curiosity is turned to the possibility that one of the inert ingredients in Monistat -Magnesium Aluminum Silicate - is an active ingredient in road flares. Gives a whole sassy new meaning to come on baby light my fire, doesn't it?

F^ck, F&ck, F*ck

I did it again and don't even have the freakin' codeine as an excuse. I had a brief interlude before my torturer appointment to have some supper. So I fired up a skillet to heat some chicken, pasta and vodka sauce and didn't get it turned off until I returned from my appointment 90 minutes later. Obviously, I'm not suffering from any kind of obsessive disorders, but shit this inattentiveness ain't good.

Why?

Is there a flavoring agent in Preparation H?

The Times They Are a Changin'

I ventured to Costco today, and if one is familiar with Costco, one knows that the witching hours for free samples run from about 1130 or so until about 3 or so. And the selections generally vary among food groups. Not food pyramid food groups mind you, but beverages, snacks, meat, dessert and a cleaning product. So today we had quite the selection - the nearly ubiquitous chicken product - on this day a nugget in the shape of a dinosaur. Irish cheese that was priced to move post the day of St. Patrick, some deep fried turkey loaf, some kind of mango salsa-whole wheat pasta situation and lamb. I come from the school of thought that sheep make nice sweaters not such a nice entree, and well, lamb always seemed to run on the high end of edibles. I shot off a text message to the mothership, who seemed somewhat doubtful that what I report was indeed true and now I could kick myself for not having snapped a photo of the sheep offering.

Ponderings

Every now and then the 'defense of marriage crowd' gets their collective panties in a bunch about gay marriage and I wonder why it is they carry on so vociferously about gay marriage but don't make nearly as much noise about the liberalization of the divorce laws. And then we see the legally married folks in the news like your Britney Spears and Kevin Federline, your Pam Anderson and Tommy Lee or Kid Rock or whoever else. And what is it precisely that marriage is being protected from? And I could venture down the road of Michael Jackson and the party with whom he managed to reproduce. And I think you churchy motherfuckers need to pull your heads out of your asses one ear at a time and get real. It ain't the people who are fighting for the rights you take for granted that you need to protect marriage from. It's the morons who need a hundred dollars, a blood test and a coupla witnesses on a drunken tear in Vegas. And really it's the kids that need to be protected from marriage. See Brown, Nixmary, for starters.

I do understand that many in the Judeo Christian tradition find marriage to be a religious experience, Buddhists do not. It is an earthly pursuit and whether it is earthly or a religious pursuit, part of the point of it was the protection of kids. So maybe, just maybe society could work on that.

Random Stuff

As no doubt shocks you, I come from a long, long line of what in polite company is often referred to as smart alecks. Last night I was out for dinner with the parental units a/k/a Lil and Rupe and the youngest sister a/k/a Boog. We were dining in a small family owned and operated restaurant as my parents have dined with fair regularity for probably close to 30 years. And by fair regularity I mean weekly, but alas I digress. So one of our fellow patrons at an adjacent table is on the cell phone and Rupe and I find it hard to resist answering the questions she is asking of the party on the other side of the phone call (and by the way, she's initiating thhe phone calls... tacky) so at a point she says to her conversant, 'so are you alright?' My retort is I'm a tattooed bliss kitten, with a killer rack and an ass that won't quit. Rupe and Boog inhale their respective sips of beverage before choking with laughter. Lil doesn't hear me so I have to repeat myself, of course, this is the time when the background music fades to silence, so the other 10 people in the restaurant hear this revelation about me in all its descriptive glory to my motherships everlasting horror.

Speaking of everlasting horror, do you think former governor McGreevey and his estranged wife were expecting to be outted on the front page of the NY Post? And is it too too much to ask that their daughter be spared any of this at all?

Gratitude

Seems to me I ought to express gratitude to the univers more often than I do so here we go.

I'm grateful for my the lovely Miss S and her J. I'm grateful for my friends and family making up all the gradations of that scale that goes from nuts to not. I'm way grateful that the only time I've ever been client #9 of anything was when I got to the deli counter when they were still taking the last of the single digit numbers. I'm grateful for my job and all the things - tangible and not it brings to my life. Including but not limited to my alter ego - Laqueetah - evil attitudinal minion par excellence.

Now if you read that there last post prior to this one, it's rather obvious that I do harbor some discontent with the world as it is. The world being so fraught with pitfalls for children (see Brown, Nixmary - as awful as that situation is) the sex abuse scandal mentioned in previous posts. That nutbag Eliot Spitzer, can we get a big ol' and what the fuck were you thinking for him? And I could of course, go on and on ad nauseum. But I won't. Takes more energy than it's worth and it's energy that I can and will use to put good energy out into the universe. I have done a whole ass load of praying over the last 40 odd years, hell I could pray before I could read. And while I have questions in my mind as to the extent to which my prayers may or may not have helped improve anything, I know they sure didn't hurt. So, I hardly ever pray in Latin anymore, usually a mixture of Tibetan and English. And much of it is chanting which just melts my butter for reasons I can even describe but it doesn't hurt (well maybe the cats ears) and it might help.

New Deadly Sins

Please be advised that the article linked to below has set me off:

CNN Wayoflife

This here quote has me off for starters. "Girotti said the Catholic Church continued to be concerned by other sinful acts, including abortion and pedophilia.

He said Church authorities had reacted with rigorous measures to child abuse scandals within the clergy, but

he also claimed that the issue had been excessively emphasized by the media.

Emphasis mine.

Over the past 50 odd years 14,000 people filed complaints that they were abused by clergy and abuse related costs reached $2.3 billion. ( Clergy Sex Abuse Payouts Nearly Double). So it seems to me that the issue was inadequately emphasized by the media. One assumes the dollar amount quoted above is simply quantifying the amount paid to defend these claims and the attempts to pay damages to the victims. There is no earthly way to compute a dollar value on the kind of damage done to these victims.

Here's what I think, hell is going to have reserved seating, next to the furnace for the perpetrators and enablers of this abuse. If 14,000 people have filed claims then at least 140,000 people were abused by these holier than thou pedophile scum sucking, god licking whorebot priests and those unconscionable cowardly cretins that looked the other way, ignored the complaints, transferred the priest to an unsuspecting parish without warning them about the rumors, turned its back on the poor abused kid.

So this has bankrupted some dioceses - good, it's about damned time. I hope it bankrupts the Vatican. For this overblown overeducated sparrow fart of a Pope to accuse the media of having made too much of this travesty of church enabled abuse is indicative of the ongoing cluelessness of the Catholic Church and just how extinct it needs to be.

Having completed the vast majority of my formal education at Catholic Schools I believe I'm uniquely qualified to type this quote yet again: IF God is so smart, why doesn't he hire better help?

I found this bit of info fascinating as well.

A recent survey said that 60 percent of Italian Catholics do not go to confession.

Traditionally the Catholic church has had a list of seven deadly sins, that of lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride established by Pope Gregory the Great in the 6th century.

The terms entered the popular vocabulary after the publication of Dante's "Divine Comedy."

The deadly sins are in contrast with venial sins - relatively minor sins that can be forgiven.

A person that commits a mortal sin risks burning in hell unless absolved through confession and penitence.

Now the Vatican says it is time to modernize the list to fit a global world.

I've got a news flash for them, as bad as it is to commit these sins that affect a global community, pedophilia transcends that because it puts the victim into a hell from which death is the only escape.

Inanity

As I've no doubt recounted here a time or two, I was raised Catholic and am now Buddhist, took some vows a few years ago. And it's interesing to sometimes here how complex theories get dumbed down for the mainstream. I heard karma described as 'that's Buddhist for I'm rubber, you're glue'.

Search And Destroy

Well, I was feeling energetic upon my arrival home from work today and set forth with my trusty black light and my $25 spray can of anti-cat-funk and sprayed all the hotspots on the carpet which aside from the 3 piles of hurl included several unknown stains that glowed brightly in the luminescence of the black light. So I sprayed and sprayed and whilst I'm not quite sure what sort of solventy type, air plane glue scent we're all inhaling here, we're inhaling plenty of it. And someone rolled in it and had to be rinsed. He was not pleased. I'm certain he will discuss it on his blog.

Down Dog

It would seem I've got a spot of tendonitis in my left infraspinatus tendon and that whole rotator cuff is a bit of a train wreck. I was reading the motherships Yoga Journal today in which it suggested if you could externally rotate your shoulders whilst executing the downward facing dog pose you could strenghten the infraspinati and supraspinati and the other li'l devils that make up the rotator cuff. The trick being that one does not excessively externally rotate these puppies lest one pop the head of the humerus out of the shoulder girdle like it belonged to a Barbie doll or something.

As I am an adventurous kind of gal, I will be whipping out the old yoga mat and giving this a test drive. And so long as I don't fuck up my shoulders I'll report how it goes.

So...

I've been off the codeine for a week and holy shit, it's like I'm a different person. Note to self - opiates=depressants and really, we need no additional help. I harbor no illusions of me being an energetic soul on my very best of days. But it's almost as if I didn't get out of this friggin' recliner to do anything but work, eat, sleep and get tortured. And occasionally clean a cat box for the better part of 2 months. This is a road I've been on before and as I described in the episode where our heroine leaves the house with a stove burner on, I needed to pull my head out of my ass quick like. So now it is out. And that's better. And maybe now I'll get my damn taxes done.

Another Meme Deal

Saw this on Shazza's blog and as I'm not coherent enough for original thought right now, here we go.

Where is your cell phone? In my pocket

Vehicle? Pickup truck

Hair? Yes, it's brown with some blonde stripeys in it.

Father? Nope, Foodchik, but yes I have one. He is also tall, blue eyed and snarky.

Your favorite thing? My WTF magnets

Dream last night? not that I recall

Favorite drink? Water

Room you are in? We just call it downstairs here.

Your ex? brilliant, funny, awash in irony.

You are? Tall, blue eyed, snarky

What do you want to be in ten years? Debt free and comfortable, and working as a massage therapist specializing in babies (easier on the hands)

Who did you hang out with today? catz

What you're not? suffering fools gladly.

Muffins? duh.

One of your wish list items? I had more free time and was less chaotic

Where is the ____? remote. somewhere.

The last thing you did? Read about new book Soprano State and ordered it from amazon

What are you wearing? sedona tshirt, black and multicolor printed fish sarong and hiking boots. Glamour is my middle name.

?

Your pet(s)? 3 cats and some shit in the refrigerator that'd come to life if I let it come to room temp.

Your computer? Dell

Your life? It's an adventure.

Your mood? loopy.

Missing? sassafrasmama

What are you thinking about right now? sassafrasmama, coffee, socks would have been a warmer idea.

Your shoes? hiking boots

Your work? I am a full time professional minion.

Your summer? summery

Your favorite colour? Indigo

Happy Belated Valentine's Day

Yes, I realize it's the ides of February already, and well, I spent the big day yesterday, working and then getting my hair did. Siiiiigh, I am turning into high maintenance girl after having spent my life as no maintenance girl. Anyway, I spent last Saturday happily celebrating the Day of the Valentine with the lovely Sassafras Mama. And it was grand and most delightful.

Tonight, I spent hosting a Reiki Circle, as I do the third Friday of most months. Reiki is a hands on healing modality and at the circles we generally talk about what Reiki is and why people do it and might like to receive it and so forth. And what it all boils down to is unconditional love. Sometimes absolute strangers walk into the room and after we've spoken about Reiki, offer an explanation, and a guided meditation and hands on reiki, they often talk excitedly about what they felt and are curious about what it means. And they keep coming back.

Fresh Hell Damn, I Scare Me

My Uncle Jim used to say it's better to be lucky than good. Uncle Jim had a lot of choice sayings but that will be a subject for another day. I made a pot of chili today, commenced making it about 1045am (this becomes important later), it has to simmer for about an hour after the meat has been browned and so forth. So let's say it was done at noon. I put it into containers in the fridge. And went upstairs to shower and meet the 'rents for lunch. Come back from lunch and decide it's time to nap. Take a look at the chili pot and think this needs some soapy water in it. And went up for my nap. Came back down from the nap and went into the kitchen for some ice water and notice that the burner flame is still on under the chili pot. Yes, 6 hours later and I'd left the house. How lucky am I that my house didn't burn down? Pretty freakin' lucky.

Random Ponderings

There is so much astir in the world today, war in Iraq and Afghanistan, breathtaking incompetence in Washington and Trenton, presidential campaigns and most of my focus and energy remains (as it has for the past year) on cat pee. Deep background, I have 3 cats, they were all adopted out of 'strayhood' Puppy D was first among the cats that chose me to be her foodchik and I have served as such for nearly 10 years. Stripe J was the second, I got him as a 2lb 6 week old kitten and now he is an 18lb 8 year old menace with urinary tract issues. Sharkbutt came to me as a 12 week old 5 lb kitten and he's been around for 3 years. So Puppy D and Sharkbutt are (knockwood) bomb proof. Every once in a while we get a little hairball action and that's that.

Stripe is a whole 'nother story. One fine summer afternoon I came home to find him on his back penis distended unable to get up. I said to myself, self, this is not bad. Especially he was panting and not in a way that one necessarily associates with a distended penis. So I crated him off to the cat ER where it was determined his ureter was blocked. He stayed in for 4 days and $800 and 2 chewed catheters and 3 baths later he came home. Last winter I came home to not be able to find Stripe, normally Stripe would be more aptly named Suppository because he is always up my ass. So I go in search of himself, hear him yowling and stuck on his back with penis distended and we whirl off to the cat ER, 1 week and 2 grand later he comes home with prescription food and me with a twitch.

So now, I'm fiendish in my observation of his behavior, too much grooming of the nethers puts me into a state of heightened awareness, as does any kind of yowling. In addition to the prescription foods, he's also on cat gatorade which would be more familiar to you as chicken broth.

With all the unrest in the world today, I'm kind of grateful that my main consuming worry is Stripe and the mystery of can he pee.

Zicam Is the Shizzizzle

For some reason, this winter has plagued me with 3, count them 3 head colds. I hate head colds. It's not unusual for me to get one a year but 3 and it's only the first week in February is a bit extreme. I had been taking an assortment of herbal cold remedies and immune booster deals. Olive leaf extract being a key ingredient, in addition to the vitamin C. Vitamin C and I have a very challenging relationship but more on that later. When I came home from work on Tuesday the onset of the cold was sudden and throat grabbing. I was a desperate girl, so I followed the directions and shot Zicam up my nostrils q 2 hrs as advised (somewhere online not in the accompanying literature) and today, 2 days later, it's almost gone. I've still got a little hoarseness. But everything else is gone including the earache. This rocks!

Zicam is fabulous!

Fish and the Lion

I have 3 siblings (and yes, technically they are all younger, technically as a matter of dates on birth certificates, however; 2 of them have offspring which cranks them up there in the age book) Their birthdays all fall within the 10 day period from 31 January to 9 February. And gasp.... my baby sister a/k/a Boog is turning 40. I enjoyed when I turned 40, but am having an issue or two about her crossing of the great divide.

So the family I grew up in consisted of 3 Aquarians, 1 Aries (popsicle) and 2 Leos (the mothership and me). It made/makes for an interesting mix of personalities and so forth, although I suspect that is more a function of being nurtured to be at least partly smartassed most days.

So happiest of birthdays to all of you all.

Books On CD

Most days my commute consists of a 100 mile round trip and I decided to use my time slightly more wisely by listening to books on cd. So today, I'm listening to Pema Chodron "From Fear to Fearlessness". She speaks of maitri - loving kindness meditation and compassion and how we are connected to all beings. I've been doing a variation on the compassion meditation for years (having taken vows and such it's all part of the deal). I've heard several people speak on the subject, read about, listened to various other Buddhist teachers on the subject and gone to Buddha camp. and each time I've caught the part about being compassionate with oneself but it never really quite sunk in until today.

A little backstory, I'm a sober alcoholic. It's been 22 years, 4 month and 6 days, but who is counting? I'd spent much of the last 6 weeks getting over a couple of cold and the cough that wouldn't leave. And for coughing, I can take cough drops or I can take a cough preparation with codeine (no dextromethorpan because it can interact way badly with something I take for my knees). Now, the advantage to codeine is that I sleep like a rock, this disadvantage - now that I've stopped coughing it is time to stop the codeine which I did Sunday night. And I've not slept more than 2 consecutive hours in the interim. So I'm frustrated with myself and irritable that I am having trouble sleeping again. Very frustrated, very irritable. So here is where the being compassionate with myself comes in, let go of my expectation that I'm either going to or not going to sleep. Breathe and if sleep doesn't come - chant to myself 'may I know happiness and the root of happiness.' And just be with that.

The View From Work

My workspace is surrounded by various calendars and schedules and data, live data, test data and all the fodder of the bureaucracy in which I work. There are pictures of my folks, my cats and nieces and nephews. And there's a strategically placed drawing which catches my eye every time I look away from my computer monitor. My friend JT made it for me, it's a picture of his mama and him, his cats and some snow men. I love that he made it especially for me, and I love that everyone in it is smiling at me.

And my favorite color today

would seem to be crazy. Good gracious. My friend and torturer P lost her father last week and the family held a memorial gathering today. I've known P for a number of years and since her mom is the office manager for the office o' torture, I know her too. When I worked my way through the rather long line to get to P and her mom and bro and sis, I could barely speak without becoming emotional. And I'm thinking to myself, 'self, wtf?'. It is not uncommon for me to become emotional at such gatherings, the energy is always quite sad, I'm apparently way too empathic or insane for my own damned good. Maybe when I'm an old lady I can hire out. But for now, I just feel badly for my friends.

Government Insanity

I may have mentioned before about the massage therapy licensure act that was pending in the Legislature. And I may have mentioned before that maybe, just maybe the state ought to enforce the prostitution laws or legalize that and tax it. Hello! So the bill has passed both houses of the lege here and has been dispatched to the gov for his signature (or not).

As an employee of the gubmint, I have to disclose any professional licenses issued by the state that I hold, ya know, to alleviate concerns about ethics because massage therapy and evil minion-dom go fist in glove. Really, it's my fucking ethics anyone needs to worry about? I didn't go to the Christmas party that the building management threw and I do not take any free pens away from the meetings with the bank we use that I have to attend. The attempts at ethics reforms here are pitiful and a joke.

Spring Time in January

Wow, it is beautiful out and I'm loving it. Hope you are too.

Thought Provoking

And heaven knows I hate to think but this was rather amazing...


http://www.oprah.com/videochannel/videochannel_player.jhtml?video=1178&category=31

This link is to an Oprah Site that shows a ten minute, very inspirational lecture from a dying professor. It has a mind blowing message and is well worth watching.

Energy Follows Attention

Ok, confession time, I have what is often euphemistically referred to as a New Age flaky side. While I don't find it to be particularly New Agey myself, I can see where people might find it easiest to categorize it that way. But I shall elaborate, I'm a convert to Buddhism, have taken vows and really attempt to live in accordance with Buddhist precepts. In some aspects of my life, my attention has fallen away a bit and for the new year I've essentially resolved to pull my head out and get more on track.

So in this attempt to get more on track, I listened to a CD of Caroline Myss (lecturer, medical intuitive, theologian and red hot trip) on my way home last evening, she was speaking to the Bristol Cancer Care group about healing and ways in which people can or cannot heal our selves. And drew the distinction between the healing of the body and the healing of the spirit, and how both require recalling our energy from wherever we divert it to that it does not belong. In essence, if we continue to invest our day to day spiritual energy in something from our past that cannot be changed, we are leaking energy. Leaks in our energetic system cause disease. And recalling our energy often requires forgiveness. This is the upshot anyway, Dr. Myss is quite conversant in the language of the mystic and so forth.

Her lecture caused me to recall how much energy I've expended in hatred, and anger and not forgiving and how much energy I gained when I was finally able to let go. I was about 40 and have discussed the process elsewhere in the blog. But the most telling thing about the process for me was that I started to look younger and I still do. Because I don't look haunted any longer, and I'm not because I was able to let go of so much of the energy vampiring I was doing to myself.

So in my quest for self improvement, I was again reminded of just how far I've come and this is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Milestone

First, Happy New Year to you! I know for most everybody it's 2 years into the New Year of 2008. But you'll get wished it again around February 8 for Losar, the Tibetan New Year. But I digress...

I have attained the 200,000 mile mark on my truck. This is happy making, I got 353,000 on my last car and am hoping to attain that on the truck.

Enough Already

I have been coughing up a lung for the better part of the last 10 days. And loath as I am to venture into a doc's office with the other germ spreaders (actually started into the doc in the box the other night but someone was vomicking into a waste can and I said to myself, "self, this here hack is not so bad", so I kept right on stepping.) Anyway, I hadn't previously realized that the antihistamines I take to keep the everyday allergens at bay (ya know, like the 3 cats) actually dry matters out so that I end up with this persistent evil cough. So, I've knocked off the friggin' antihistamines and the cough is dissipating finally. Yay!

The Adventure That Is My Day Job

In addition to the kinds of year end stuff that one does when one is queen of payroll, I'm currently involved in system testing web applications that we are rolling out to the constituency soon. So the system testing is occuring in my spare time, and there is not much of it.

In addition to all the silliness, the USPS is on an absolute tear about address integrity and have thus far returned about 20K (or 17%) of the documents we sent out for 1 December. So people are kind of irate at us because the USPS is not delivering their mail. And it's my problem to solve, because in addition to my special powers of omniscience, bilocations and mind reading I'm also in charge of the United States Postal Service North East Operation. So.... way.... not.....! But try telling the clients that.

So that's my story. The good news, is that they spell my name write on my direct deposit and they get it into my account.

Practical Aspects of Buddhism

There is great emphasis on mindfulness in Buddhism, and whilst there is a certain amount of spiritual uplift intended from the practice of being mindful, there is also a pragmatic aspect of it. To wit, when I pay fucking attention I do not end up with Dinosaur Barbeque's Cajun Spice rub in my oatmeal.

So basically what all the Buddhism teachers have been speaking of all these years are the same things that the Catholic nuns with whom I spent my youth, essentially "Sharkb, pull your head out of your ass, would you?"

Christmas Meme

Christmas Meme

I found this meme on Shazza's blog and thought I would play along too!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? Both - I am exquisitely disorganized. So sometimes it's neither.

2. Real tree or artificial? I love the scent of a real tree, but I have evil cats and oh yeah I'm Buddhist. So there is a fake palm tree up all year in my house and it's usually festooned with prayer flags and decorations of a flamingo-y ilk.


3. When do you put up the tree? It's been up since July 2004.

4. When do you take the tree down? I don't

5. Do you like eggnog? I used to back when I enjoyed a cocktail

6. Favorite gift received as a child? A bat.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? Yeah, unless I regifted it.

8. Hardest person to buy for? The parental units.

9. Easiest person to buy for? the cats. oh, they're not people to everyone. My sister M, she gives very explicit instructions.

10. Mail or email Christmas cards? I usually send out Losar cards (Tibetan New Year) and not just because it gives me until February.

11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? a fifth of really good scotch, the December after I got sober. Took me a long time to give that away.

12. Favorite Christmas Movie? The Grinch That Stole Christmas

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? It depends. I sometimes buy Christmas gifts when I travel if I find unique things. I seldom complete my shopping before 12-27.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? Yes, I've done it.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Chocolate
16. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I like color

17. Favorite Christmas song? As I was gainfully employed as an assistant to a church organist during some of my time in Scranton, I am rather enamored of the old churchy favorites especially O' Come Emmanuel.


17b. Christmas Song That, When You Hear It, Makes Your Eyes Bleed And Your Brains Start To Leak Out Your Ears, Because That Is Less Painful Than Having To Listen To That *&%^&$# Song One More Time! Anything in the vein of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer" (obnoxious!) or Dominic the fucking Donkey

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? I don't cook so often rely on the kindness of family or friends.
19. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeers? Santa has reincows not reindeer and they're named Trixie, Bubbles, Boom Boom, Busty,
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Nada

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning? Generally morning

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Traffic

24. Favorite Christmas Tradition? Making a special breakfast for the catz.

25. Outdoor decorations? All pink flamingos all the time.
If you want to play! Please do!

James Lipton/Bernard Piveau Questionaire

On the Actor's Studio, James Lipton asks each of the guests the following questions, he attributes them to Bernard Piveau. It's unlikely that I will ever answer them on the Actor's Studio, but I will answer them here.

What is your favorite word? Naked!
What is your least favorite word? Phlegm
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Engagement of a creative, spiritual, emotional or intellectual ilk.
What turns you off? A lack of respect
What is your favorite curse word? Sparrow fart chicken fucker
What sound or noise do you love? laughter, heavy breathing, applause
What sound or noise do you hate? gas (abdominal) igniting
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? baby whisperer
What profession would you not like to do? undertaker
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? 'sup, home slice

If you've read this, and find it interesting enough to do yourself then tag you're it.

Isn't It Rich?

Yes, that is the opening line from send in the clowns... and because I'm writing about the latest adventure in "Ethics" from my employer, well, doesn't it just fit? The quick and dirty here is that because all manner of people benefit from egregious acts of fraud and dirty dealing in gubmint, the minions are hosed. To wit: the employer leases space in a building on the main drag o' gubmint in this state (and yes, right in one, the state is confusion) and we've occupied this building for nearly 20 years. For many of the 20 years, the building management has hosted a holiday soiree of sorts, some years a cocktail party after work, more recently a breakfast before work. And previously the minion occupants have been able to go without any conflama. However, this years breakfast is scheduled for next week and the ethics gurus have determined that as public employees we are unable to attend. This is of course, absurd. Had we had any influence on the leasing of this space we would have insisted that the restrooms are cleaned, well stocked with toilet paper and paper towels and cleaned. Like daily, using actual cleaning products. And we'd have leased space in a building where the extremely scary restrooms vent to the outside. Because a floor full of 100 minions, who had the bean burrito special is simply methane hell with ventilation, without it is where brimstone goes to die.

I've already informed my boss, if he thinks I'm putting my girlish body between my staff and free bacon he is out of his cotton picking mind.

Tell Me A Story

Tell me a story please....

Okay, so Fran tagged DCup who then tagged Wyldth1ng, who in turn tagged The Village Carpenter who knew that she could tag me, with an unusual story-building "meme" that was started by Splotchy who wrote...Here's what I would like to do. I want to create a story that branches out in a variety of different, unexpected ways. I don't know how realistic it is, but that's what I'm aiming for. Hopefully, at least one thread of the story can make a decent number of hops before it dies out. So I was tagged by Shazza and we're off on this story rampage.

________________________________________________________________
I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

"That's strange," I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen.I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. "What the..." again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room.(FranIam)



I stood for a moment considering what all this meant. Oh, I knew what it meant, I didn’t need to waste time thinking about it. He was back. And he was mad.I ran down the hallway and flung open the door at the end. I was immediately hit with a blast of cold. I took a step back as I tried to catch my breath. I bent over, hands on my knees panting. He always had this remarkable effect on me. After so much time, it no longer scared me, but it was a shock nonetheless……“You know,” I panted, “There’s no need to break things to get myattention.” (DCup)


I woke up hungry. I rolled out of bed smacking my alarm clock that was singing Carly Simon and thinking to myself I have to stop eating pizza right before bed and then sleeping till noon. I must remember to change that station to something that will actually wake me.
Stubbing my toe on my boots on my way to the kitchen, I glanced sideways down the hall and caught the dead body out of the corner of my eye. (Wyldth1ng)


I rubbed my eyes, not wanting to believe them, looked again, and then sprang headlong into the living room. Oh God, no! I dropped to my knees, hot tears erupting and blurring my vision. NO!!! In the name of all that is good and right, why him? Why HIM?!
It was Jerry. My pet cockroach. Somehow, he'd gotten loose from the little flat I'd made for him and was...what? Seeking adventure? Overtaken by wanderlust? I glanced over at his little apartment. His tiny divan with the embroidered "J" sitting empty, his six little booties all lined up under his chiffarobe. Oh, his feet must cold. I touched them, ever so gently. What's this? Do I detect a hint of warmth? My heart leapt, I dropped lower, pressing my mouth to his and breathing two little puffs of air. Pulling back, I gently pushed 1, 2, 3.....30 times on his minute chest. More air, more pushing. To no avail. It was too late. Too late for my little Jerry. I sat back, exhausted, still weeping, licked my lips and tasted....tasted....applesauce? (The Village Carpenter)



I immediately knew poor little Jerry was the victim of foul play - he's allergic to applesauce. I was going to find the bastard that lured Jerry in with it's creamy sweetness knowing that he would gorge himself, as it was his only weakness.

I scooped up ol' Jerry in my hands, gave him one last little kiss good bye and then flushed him down the toilet. "Good by ol' buddy...I will miss you. You were one in a million." I walked across the room to get my bright orange Crocs (yeah, they are ugly, but boy are they comfortable). As I padded across the floor my foot stepped on something sharp. Glass! "Where did this come from?" I wondered as I picked up a shard and examined it closely. I could see the label from the shattered jar that was splintered out in hundreds of pieces across my new purple and red Mowhawk Berger carpet. "It wasn't even organic applesauce!" I cried. The anger gripped me like a vice. (Shazza)

As I bent to clean up the rest of the applesauce and shards of glass, the real poor little Jerry scurried atop my left foot, as I looked deeply into his eyes, I wondered who was the poor deceased interloper I'd so recently and ceremoniously flushed down the toilet? And how did the decendent get into my house? Needing a plastic bag with which to remediate the balance of the sinister applesaucian disaster and carnage, I unpacked the treats from the PetCo bag and noticed both the treats and the bag had been gnawed. Hmmm, had I inadvertantly shoplifted a pet from PetCo? Heaven knows it would not be the first time! (Sharkb)

I'm tagging SassafrasMama.

Licensure?

The lege has it on the agenda to discuss licensing of massage therapi. One could save a lot of blood, sweat and heavy legislative lifting if one would examine some of the circumstances at the place where the the massage is taking place many will make it rather obvious if you're dealing with trained therapi or hos.

1. If the masseuse does the massage in high heels, probably a ho.

2. Does the masseuse have a serious manicure with blood red claws? Ho.

3. Is there bleach solution dripping off the ceiling? Ho!

4. Does the massage therapi look like she stole her forearms from Pop-eye? Therapist, not a ho.

Hello Rotator Cuff

In the technical language of the body worker to which I've grown accustomed, my rotator cuff is f*&#ed up. Ok, to be really technical, I've got tendonitus in the supraspinatus tendon and lateral scapular attachments of the teres major and minor and latissimus dorsi are inflamed. But really my rotator cuff is effed up. So the torturers (I have 2, Dr P the Chiropractor and J the trainer) have me on a program to uneff it up. You wouldn't call it strenuous but I'm not travelling far without ice today.

My Adventures in Cable

My cable TV service has been sporadically out since the 2nd Thursday in November. Channels 30 through 68 are simply gone, which of course, is my standard viewing fare - The Weather Channel, News12 NJ, ESPN, YES and yeah, Lifetime, wanna make something of that one? Ironically enough I have channel 69, and then 70 through 90 gone.

I have called no less than 15 times and been told it was a problem with a channel migration, that lasts 3 weeks? Are you freakin' kiddin' me? Finally, on Saturday when I let rip with my frustrations, they deemed it appropriate to send a technician out. Well, bring it on, so the tech is scheduled to arrive sometime between 7 and 9am, well, sporty, you've got 46 minutes and then I've got things to do.

But I do see a bill that had better have one hankin' big credit on it.

All This Because of a Whipped Cream Obsession?

You Are Mud Pie

You're the perfect combo of flavor and depth. You are overpowering and dominant - and that's what people like about you. You bring energy and a new direction to most interactions. People crave you in a serious way. You're that important to them. Those who like you give into their impulses. You don't represent reason. You represent pure temptation. People get addicted to you rather easily. You offer people a dark side that is very hard to resist.

What Kind of Pie Are You?

Wardrobe Relativism

In a recent conversation with my friend S, we happened upon the topic of business casual. In her world, which is necessarily more formal than my world, business casual is casual clothing appropriate for business. In my world, business casual simply means your business is covered up, and when people come to work with their business showing we send people home.

Hi My Name is Sharkb and...

I am apparently addicted to memes.

1. What is your occupation? Evil Minion, Financial Services. Often enabler of abject incompetence

> 2. What color are your socks right now? white socklets

> 3 . What are you listening to right now? S 'splaining something to IL while keeping a straight face. I'd not be able to do it.

> 4. What was the last thing you ate? veggie sausage and cheese on english muffin (yes, it cooks, too)

> 5. Can you drive a stick shift? probably, haven't done it in years though.

> 6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? deep dark blue

> 7. Last person you spoke to on the phone? My sister M.

> 8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Of course.

> 9. Favorite drink? Water, despite the rumor that fish both fuck and shit in it.

> 10. Favorite sport to watch? Rodeo, football.

> 11. Have you ever dyed your hair? Have you ever seen me with my 80% grey hair showing, no, I don't think so. So yes, of course I do.

> 12. Pets? cats X3 Sharkbutt, Stripe J and Puppy D. (yes, the D stands for dog.)

> 13. Favorite food? Tortilla soup, cheese enchiladas, meatballs, Tomorrow who knows? not liver.

> 14. What was the last movie you watched: One of the Harry Potters I think.

> 15. What do you do to vent anger? Lift very heavy weights. Wale on an 80lb punching bag, speak very quietly, deliberately and menacingly.

> 16. What was your favorite toy as a child? Kelly the cat.

> 17. What is your favorite, spring summer winter or fall? fall

> 18. Hugs or kisses? Kisses first but I like Both

> 19. Cherries or Blueberries? Cherries

20. Educational background? I spent 17 years in Catholic schools. It has put a warp in my topspin, 'nuff said.


> 21. Living arrangements? Me and the 3 cats. A plethora of imaginary friends.

> 22. When was the last time you cried? Sharkb does not cry, she snots.

> 23. What is on the floor of your closet? Shoes, meditation cushion, likely a cat or 2.


> 24. Favorite smells? Cookies baking or garlic simmering, muffin

> 25. What inspires you? more often then I like rage.

> 26. What are you afraid of? being mindless, my temper, losing my mindlet it's too young to be out on its own.

> 27. Number of keys on your key ring? 2 on one, 11 on the other.

> 28. How many years at your current job? 23 years, 2 months 6 days but who's counting?

> 29. Favorite day of the week? Any day I get to see the sassy one

> 30. How many states have you lived in? 2 not including confusion and inebriation.

> 31. Favorite Holiday? Thanksgiving and Halloween.

> 32. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery? No, but I've tossed full grown human beings 20 feet.

Cuz We Have Not Had a Meme In a While...

Fictional character you'd most like to have dinner with?
Roz, the tender oozing blossom from Monsters Inc. I often like to channel her as a manager.

Historical figures you'd most like to have dinner with?
His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, Whoopi Goldberg, Venerable Tenzin Gephel,

When did you realize you were an adult?
Who you calling an adult, wench? Much earlier on than I actually, physically was an adult, but I internalized that I was somewhere around 40.

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Grown up, shapely of buttocks, striped. I want to massage babies, massaging adults is fine, but can be tough on the thumbs

This was short and sweet, I'm tagging Sassafras Mama, Shazza and Sharkbutt

And Yes, As a Matter of Fact

It still does smell like excessive smudging has gone on here. A combination of burnt, rope and scorched pine. Really bring sone into the autumnal campfire spirit in some exceedingly deranged way.

Adventures in Smudging

Periodically, I fire up the smudging stick and send a little burnt sage and burnt cedar into the universe that is my house. To clear the energy and attract positive energy into the place, and that's a happy thing. Yesterday the sage burnt a little long, ok a lot long, if it burns long enough to trip the smoke alarm it's too long. So my house and I still smell as if we've had a rough week at the hashish parlor.

Thanksgiving

Gratitude is quite underrated and since Thanksgiving is upcoming, it's good for me to reflect upon that for which I am grateful.

My health and the health of my family and friends.
Work that is way more entertaining than is imaginable.
Cats that are way more entertaining than is imaginable.

More later.

HMMM

The randori portion of this blog means to embrace chaos, and in the main I believe I do. But this was one of those days where the chaos that is work walked up to me and bitchslapped me right across the chops. I spent much of the morning and early after noon looking for 856.81 in 5.9 billion dollars, and compulsive wench that I am I found it. All the while answering the same goddamned dumb questions I answered yesterday. And yes, for the same person.

Oh What Fun!

My dentist has a new hygienist, I learned this from my sister who has had a visit with said hygienist and swore, "if she tells me to open big one more time, I'm gonna crack her." So I'm so not excited at the prospect of breaking in a new hygienist, I'd been working with J the former, and we'd reached rapproachment on several subjects such as the liberal use of topical anesthetic, digging whilst cleaning the teeth is fine but once you've poked me in my liver, appendix or frontal lobe it's time to back the fuck off, and I mean now. To say that I was not confident that that information had been adequately noted and explained in my chart is perhaps, an understatement.

So A comes out and introduces herself to me and apologizes for the tardiness. I said we need to reach an understanding here, you know you're not going to hurt me or we will have issues. Big, big issues. So she probed gently at first and then less so, until I pointed out that you've got my appendix on the end of your spear there, Toots and need to back off. She finished someone gingerly though not so much so that I failed to feel her probing upside my frontal lobe. But all in all I'd say it was reasonably successful.

Intact

I have this side gig as a massage therapist and my main requirements of myself are that I'm not possessing an infectious disease (crazy is genetic not infectious) and the skin of my hands and forearms be intact. Well, we've met the former of the criteria today but not the latter. As I fished in drawer for a potholder last night, I scraped the middle finger of my right hand upside a pretty damn sharp knife. Not pretty. And the Nuskin is not keeping it together well enough that we can call it intact, but I am rather high on the fumes so I suppose it's all good.

Inane Cubed

You may or may not know that I help my kitten Sharkbutt write a blog. It's called Advice From a Shark - http://www.sharkbutt.blogspot.com. And as inane as my ramblings here in my own blog are, they become cubed, possibly even quadrupled when I help Sharkbutt with his advice giving, observations on life its ownself etc. Today's entry paraphrased a question that I've been asked by coworkers more than once in the 20 exceedingly odd years I've been at my job. The question, not one of those life changing existential ones, not at all. But the age old 'why do farts stink?'

So

Work is a rare delight of fucking moron. The powers that be spent several million bucks on a client contact management system, and nothing on training people to use it. So for my dirty dozen, I'm the trainer. It's rather scary that I'm turned lose on this training business, because my ability to describe what one should be doing in short sentences is pretty damn good, but my ability to do it without using some quite profane language is a whole 'nother story.

Siiiiiigh!

My hair was about 80% grey at my visit to G the magician. G the magician is a hair stylist and a color genius, which is why I persist in the beauty marathon every 6 weeks. G will ask, what are we doing? I will respond, let's shave it and see how it looks when the grey grows out. G will respond, let's not and just say we did. Me: A'ight, the usual then, unless we can get by with just doing roots. We can seldom get by with just doing roots. So 4 hours later, I've had color, (lather, rinse repeat, condition, rinse repeat) foils (lather rinse repeat again, condition, rinse repeat again) then cut. My hair tends to grow out rather than long so there's a lot of chopping to thin it out that occurs. Then G will carefully blow it out and style it to the point of distraction.

My own styling of my coif consists of the following, wash, rinse, condition, rinse and on Tuesdays I comb it. High maintenance, I ain't.

Election Day

There is a movement afoot called GRIP - get rid of incumbent politicians. And while I can certainly relate to the sentiment, there are some quite decent incumbents. Whatever you're feeling about any of them, just make sure to vote.

Who Knew?

You Are a Red Crayon

Your world is colored with bright, vivid, wild colors. You have a deep, complex personality - and you are always expressing something about yourself. Bold and dominant, you are a natural leader. You have an energy that is intense... and sometimes overwhelming. Your reaction to everything tends to be strong. You are the master of love-hate relationships. Your color wheel opposite is green. Green people are way too mellow to understand what drives your energy.

What Color Crayon Are You?

Tag, I'm It!

My friend Shazza at http://randomthoughtsandactsofstupidty.blogspot.com/ has tagged me with a meme, 10 random things about myself. Good gravy, I'm so random it alarms even me.

1. Right handed but left footed.
2. I have 6 tattoos.
3. One way in which I keep myself entertained is to make up my own lyrics to popular songs and even for obscure songs. And I do a rendition of a lullaby that is both educational and stimulating... the lyric is Whaddya gonna get if you eat raw pork? Trichinosis (which when pronounced tricky noses with a gentle grab to the baby's nose generally gets a laugh from said baby)
4. I've worn bifocals since I was 19. (ok, yeah when I can find them)
5. It's currently 41 degrees outside and I've still got windows open and the heat off.
6. Spent 17 years in Catholic schools, 'splains a lot, doesn't it?
7. One of the most worthwhile things I've done in my life was spend a week at Buddha camp, another one was to teach my nieces how to play talking clothes rack. "Put the yellow back, it brings out the red in your eyes."
8. Yes, I so do feel the energy at vortexes.
9. I love flamingos. Love 'em. Live, plastic, it doesn't matter, I just love 'em.
10. Doing yoga gives me gas, but I still do it.

I tag the actual SassafrasMama and the actual Sharkbutt.

F&^$ing Cats

By way of disclaimer, I love my cats, unconditionally. All that being said, when I discovered the dumped over litter box this morning I was ready to shred the little farts. Occasionally, a turd will get kicked out onto the carpet but this was a fully upended box of stank. And of course, I discovered it when I was on my way out to do a massage this morning. Evil hell cats.

Loose Cat

No, not one of mine, one of the neighbors has a charcoal grey guy on the loose. He's often on the loose and it makes Stripe nuts. He's racing up the stairs and down to keep an eye on the interloper. Puppy reigns from her perch on the back of the love seat and really does not appear to give a hot damn. Sharkbutt remains in his new customary spot on the grounding pad on the bed. Me, I'm sitting on my shapely ass, watching the weather channel, waiting for the arrival of this nor'easter rain that's predicted as a result of the remnants Hurricane Noel. It's windy, it's cloudy but it's not raining and that's not a bad thing.

Surprise!

When I roll in from work, I'm usually laden with the basics, lunch sack, armload of mail, to-go mug, gps, cell phone and whatever other accoutrement traveled with me to the 7 letter word for hell (Trenton). So with full arms I stroll to put my stuff away, or at least down before I make the arrival head call. As I bent over to place the mug down I noticed that I'd placed my boot in puke. And as I've been wearing hiking boots almost exclusively since my return from Sedona last month, I had treads full of hurl. Joy. So before throwing together some supper, my trusty plastic knife and I went to town and the treads of hurl. And not surprisingly I did not feel much like supper.

Epithets I've Used More Than Once Today

Yellow bellied doucherocket
Semi literate single toothed jackass
Fuck wit.

Nice language from a buddhist, huh?

Getting Old is Hell

I've been having an issue or two with my left shoulder. Getting my arm over my head is a red hot mess and hurts like hell so I just don't do it. But having mentioned it to my trusted chiropractor (who is the best on the planet) she seemed to think that it would be better to investigate what was going on and devise a way to remedy it. So first she engaged in neurological and functional testing (or eliminating the possibility of someone actually having gotten on my last nerve and fucking it up). So neurologically I'm intact (yay!) but my left shoulder blade doesn't move when I move my arm which jacks the head of my humerus into the joint socket and tends to cram the soft tissue structures together and cause pain. Apparently, this requires that the musculature of my lower rotator cuff and lower trapezius has to get cracking and pull this puppy down on the rib cage and out the way. Currently, I'm on two exercises to facilitate this change and of course I've over done them and now my upper back/shoulder hurts. Which simply means that it's time to bust out the ice.

And I'm guessing this is due to my unfortunate preference to sleep on my left side. Damn it. I'm barely trainable when I'm awake and alert, forget when I'm asleep.

Epithets I have used More Than Once Today

Fucking moron
Quasi-literate sparrow fart
Living Proof that Evil and Moronic Can Peacefully Coexist
Fucking Idiot
Raving Douchebag
World's Only Living Brain Donor
Fucking Loon
Fartface

Observation

If you've spent any kind of time in my presence it may become rather obvious to you, kind of quick like that I don't spend a lot of time in front of the mirror, or a mirror, any mirror. It is simply not high on my list of things to do with my eyeballs. But there are times when I just happen to find myself in front of a mirror. Mainly that'd be when washing my hands, (my mother's a nurse so the practice has been ingrained rather vividly) and when brushing my teeth. So I'm brushing my teeth last week and notce that the left side of my face is twitching, gently. This was Friday, it dissipated over the weekend but has cropped right back up this week. I'm somewhat less then entertained by it but it does make a good conversation piece sometimes. I don't feel like I'm grasping at straws when I note the correlation between the number of sentences I utter where every second word is f#*k and the speed with which my face is twitching.

Stuff

Nothing quite like having the trucks engine decarbonized to put some pep back into the V6. Huge difference and no longer do we strain at 80mph.

Stripe is sitting up in the middle of the couch looking shockingly like Al Bundy from Married With Children except instead of having his hand down his nonexistent pants he was licking his penis. So sweet.

Don't know if it's a sign of my advanced age or what but lately when I've been shaving my legs I'm cutting myself. It's very attractive. I'd not drawn blood on myself in years and this is like the 10th time in a row. Disturbing.

Truck Follies

So I took my beloved truck in for an oil change on Monday, and as always they promptly changed my oil and sent me on my way. And I ran some errands and the check engine light went on, so I went back. And they ran the diagnostic and changed the spark plugs, wires and fuel filter, then they sent me on my way. So I drove up to visit a friend and on my way home, check engine light came on again. So I brought it back the next day after work, and they gave me a lovely loaner - very swift. Some of the possibilities were kind of dire - needing a new engine, which I did not. Thankfully. This truck has 194,000 miles on it so it's just getting broken in and I really want it for at least another 100,000 miles. Which will take another couple of years.

'Tude

I'm a New Jersey native and aside from the four years that I spent in Scranton, PA getting edumacated, I've lived here my entire life. And that's really not any of your business, but more than 30 years is all you need to know. So I'm quite familiar with attitude, shade, 'tude, mouth etc. Although, I will confess that it is taking me some getting used to the tone that my GPS device takes when I deviate from the proscribed route. The first statement of 'recalculating' somewhat nasal but machinelike as expected. By the second or third time, there is a distinct disdain to the tone. And by the fourth and fifth, it's almost a whine. Like the 'would you please make up your mind' from the lady selling lottery tickets at the cigar store.

And oddly, this is even since I've switched from the dulcet tones of American English Jill to Australian English Karen...

Ru'roh

There are some new cats in the 'hood and they're allowed to skulk about said 'hood. Whilst my cats are understandably fascinated by the snacks - a/k/a birds, squirrels and bunnies that gambol and cavort on the the lawn, their hackles are raised beyond the vertical by the presence of these feline interlopers. Stripe's nose is bleeding slightly from his attempt to race through the screen door to eat the visiting grey cat. Puppy, oddly because she's the only female amongst the cat life has the deepest growl of anyone. Possibly, including me. Pleased, she's not. As this cat has long been chased and she's still growling, oh, at the boys - Stripe and the Shark. So way not pleased.

Land of the Red Rocks

Have I mentioned that I love Sedona? Love it. Love the air, love the altitude, love the hiking. Love it. Now, for me a week was plenty, 10 days might have been a bit better but the week was good.

Random Thoughts on Returning From Sedona

The following exchange took place when I rented my car in Phoenix.

Enterprise dude: Are you taking the car out of the country?
me: No, just up to Sedona
E.D.: Oh up to Sedona, I hear aliens land there and kidnap people.
me: Yeah, they do, but they've learned their lesson about taking people visiting from NJ. We just take over, that's how I ended up Queen of Jupiter.


Whilst moseying up the Interstate from Phoenix to Sedona, I notice that when I take the diversions advised by the Enterprise dude that the GPS unit takes a tone with me when she says 'Recalculating'. Bitch.

Whilst hiking around Airport Mesa in Sedona, (home of one of the masculine energy vortexes) a thunderstorm commenced which is the universe's way of saying bitch, get off of my vortex.

Her Wish is My Command

I was tagged for this meme by the enchanting Sassafras Mama at sassafrasmama.blogspot.com.

1) What I was doing ten years ago:
Ten years ago I was still awash in the maelstrom that was my life, pre Reiki, pre therapy. And it really wasn't pretty. Trust me on this one. If you knew me then, you've seen the changes, if you didn't you're better off.

2)What I was doing 5 years ago:
It started for me 7 years ago, in 2000 in was in gradual school (a/k/a graduate school) pursuing loosely a MPA with an emphasis on employee welfare and benefit programs.... and I said fuck it and dropped out. ...and decided that I wanted to go to massage school. And in June 2001, I started my studies in massage which led to my studies of Reiki, which essentially led to a several year long comprehensive study of Me, the Experiment in Crazed... So essentially 5 years ago I decided to change my life from the inside out and I have. Luckily for me.

3) What I was doing 1 year ago:
Still working on the experiment in crazed that is my life, I tried dating again for the first time in ages and ages. (I'd been in hermit mode for the better part of the last 17 years) And I met a most intriguing woman, a single mama, originally hailing from California. And yes, this woman would be the aforementioned Sassafras Mama.

4) Yesterday - at 445 AM I departed Sedona AZ, to drive to Phoenix to fly home to NJ, a/k/a the motherland. Usually I depart Sedona with mixed feelings and did so again. But only slightly, I was glad to be returning to NJ, but left with the knowledge that it's just a 5 hour flight to return. I returned to a warm(ish) greeting from the cats.

5) 5 Snacks I enjoy. Damn, only 5? Jalapeno cheddar chips, cheese, jalapeno smoked almonds, although, not in cereal. Watermelon - I can eat mass quantities of watermelon. Chocolate.

6) 5 Things I would do if I suddenly had $100 million: Pay off some mortgages for some folks, endow Namgyal Monastery with some scratch to build a Central Jersey meditation temple/monastery etc. Endow UMDNJ to have a branch of the Touch Research Institute here and give me a job massaging babies.

7)5 locations I would like to run away to: Maui, Sedona, Disney World, San Francisco, the jetty at Allenhurst (which if you're looking for me makes me pretty easy to find)

8) 5 bad habits I have: could stand to be more selective in my use of profanity, cereal as a side dish (often with chicken), lack o' mindfulness especially with some of my more self destructive behaviors, slatternliness and absolving myself of control over certain situations in order to avoid responsibility for them.

9) 5 things I like doing: hiking, staying up late to read my book; working out; reading, making people laugh, napping

10.) 5 TV shows I like: House, The Daily Show, Designing Women, Baseball,

11.) 5 things I hate doing: the cat boxes, really that's about the some total of things I hate doing.

12.) 5 Biggest joys of the moment: cats, snacks, being me,

And I tag Sharkbutt.blogspot.com... because well I know it will be funny.

Then Again

I sometimes get twisted up by mindfulness and my lack thereof, and then the even less mindful folk I'm often surrounded by, remind me that I'm not meant to get it all perfectly right. I just need to pay attention but if I pay too close attention I will lose my mind.

Almonds 1 Mindfulness 0

I awoke without the usual 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh, I've slept through 3 alarms and have to get my ass to work panic', and yeah, mainly because it is Saturday and I don't have to get my ass to work., and did not have any of the alarms set. I decide a health breakfast is in order so I fire up a pot of water in which I shall drop some steel cut oats. By then, the coffee is ready but all over the counter again because I failed AGAIN to place the pot with sufficient precision to prevent a repeat of that debacle. Once I have that cleaned up the oats are cooked. And because all the 'healthy eating' reading I do suggests that they are a fine source of essential fatty acids and protein, blah, blah, blah... I toss a handful of almonds into the oats, douse the mess with some vanilla soymilk. And sit down to have a taste. It's then that I realize that clever me has tossed a handful of BOLD Jalapeno Smoked almonds onto my oatmeal with vanilla soymilk. I cannot say that it was 'good eatin' mainly because a) it wasn't, although it did grow on me and b) there was no chicken involved and for me, 'good eatin' usually involves chicken.

One might have thought that after the great Blackberry in the toilet debacle from back in the Spring I might be a little more mindful in general. This would seem not to be the case.

Back from The Vet

After weeks and weeks of me dreading it, the low maintenance cats (Puppy and the Sharkbutt) and I were off to the vet this afternoon. Puppy is at least 11 or 12, as she was 2 or 3 when she got me and we've been together 9 years. Sharkbutt is 3. This years previous adventure with the vet involved a trip to the cat ER with Stripe and resulted in a 5 day hospital stay. So, how happy was I to trap the cats in their respective crates with no blood shed? Oh hell, how happy was I not to be outwitted by Puppy as I have been for the past three attempts at vet visits? Way, way happy and that the whole trip, shots and all cost me less than $140 is just extra deluxe!

Puppy is, not surprisingly hiding out and Sharkbutt is mildly irked and Stripe is just about dancing around that he didn't find his stripey ass in a crate.

Bulletproof

I'm inclined to the Enell Line of sports bra, I like to refer to them as bullet proof. It's not entirely because of the 18 hooks in the front or that once ensconced in the cups the puppies don't move. But it is a combination of those things among a generally quality of construction that makes the twins feel pretty invulnerable.

Ambition

I have never considered myself to be excessively ambitious, or even mildly ambitious. Then again, if one’s driving need is to be avoid being noticed by and therefore hit by the nuns, one might term it more of a survival instinct rather than an ambition. But, alas, as I do so often, I digress.

This brings me to my current whim, as queen of Jupiter, I find myself, not surprisingly up to my ass in syncophants and toadies and really what I need is minions, not necessarily evil ones, at least not evil all the time. And come to think of it I would make a really good minion. Both understanding the undesirability of syncophants, as well as having intimate knowledge of the whole ‘heavy the head that wears the crown’ thing. And varied dilemmas that face a leader. So my current whim is that I would make a really good minion. I’m too much of a smart ass to make a good syncophant or toadie, too much of an independent thinker with too much initiative to make a good flunky. So yeah, Sharkb, the evil minion, I love it.

Arrggghhh!

Was sent to mandatory training today. This was approximately 2 months after I had to participate in mandatory system testing. And how might one test a computer system without a)having been trained or b)have the system be relatively intuitive (and as it turned out impossible for me to break - which has not happened before, breaking stuff is one of my best things, but I digress) So does this sound assbackward to you? Yes, to me too. And I was in the class with a lot of the dumb kids.

We're using what is essentially a relational database with ability to send email and correspondence. It ain't brain surgery by any stretch of the imagination. And while the database is searching, it greys out. So this one rocket scientist, says ooooh, I've still got a grey box. I'd shut my filters off so out of my mouth pops, "sounds like a personal problem to me.", in my Irish stage whisper, and people fell out. I was asked to leave class and that made me exceedingly happy.

Fresh Hell

As is not uncommon in my home, which is dominated by the presence of three of the best cats ever. (ok, I lie but 2 of them are looking over my shoulder and I'm deeply afraid they can read) I awoke to the dulcet tones of a cat vomiting. Wasn't sure specifically where on the second floor this might have been taking place, so I vaulted out of bed (ok, again I lie, this was more of a crept out gingerly kind of deal) and as is my habit after quaffing the collection of pre-breakfast pills I seek out my Crocs and aha! I find the vomit, squished in between me toes. A plethora of choice epithets escaped my lips and I headed for the bathroom where I dispatched the vomick into the local sewerage system, feeling strangely grateful that I did not have to bust out the carpet cleaner.

Strolling

The mothership and I took a stroll on one of the local boardwalks yesterday. She allowed as how she thought that boardwalk was a mile long, 'but we're moving slowly here, we've been walking for almost an hour and half and it should not take that long to walk 2 miles.' Well, lemme tell you this about that. This particular boardwalk is 2.5 miles long so we walked 5 miles in well under 2 hours. As I have one speed in my personal transmission and that speed is a saunter, and not a particularly brisk saunter this was pretty entertaining to me.

In chatting with the mothership, I was suprised to learn that she and the fathership have of late been frequenting Hooters, despite being offended by the charges for celery that appear on the lunch check. Who knew?

Z and the Dancing Toilets

My sister was visiting the parental units with her family over the weekend. So I got to spend some time with each of her kids, including but not limited to my nephew Z. Z is in possession of one vivid imagination. He was explaining to me that he had a nightmare about dancing toilets that had him quite scared until his sister M came into his dream and told the toilets in no uncertain terms to go away and not come back. M has that kind of presence, if I were a dancing toilet I'd run screaming from the room.

Labor Day Weekend

While many mourn the end of summer, I will be celebrating the freeing of the beaches. And no, I'm not the enemy of those who are often referred to pejoratively in this neck of the woods as Bennies. I am referring to the charging of beach fees and more specifically the termination of that practice as of Tuesday 4 September.

Coin of the Realm

Fairly religiously I administer Petromalt (a/k/a cat yak stuff) to the wild life and niavely I believe that will deliver me from the evil of cats vomiting. As I get older and wiser, I realize that vomit is coin of the realm for cats and a chief means of communication of displeasure. Yuck!

Then there's the whole cognitive dissonance created by the enthusiasm with which they lick their nether regions and then attempt to lick me.

Fluency

While I am quite fluent in English, having spoken it all my life, I consider my native tongue to be Douchebag. Douchebag is a lot like English yet far more profane. Even when the preface douchebag is unuttered it is implied and at work it seldom remains unuttered these days.

My career in profanity began at the ripe old age at 5, when at the supper table, I asked my grandfather to pass the motherfucking ketchup. Not realizing at the time that it was the granddaddy of all profanity, of course. The mothership and fathership carefully explained to me that this was not acceptable language for a young lady to use. I've seldom gone a day without using some variation on it since.

Oh Fuckity Doo Dah

I tend to like thinking of myself as an astute sort, and I know full damn well that the descaling and cleaning of the coffee pot should be done with white vinegar. Alas, Rachel Ray, I ain't so there was none in the house and I thought red wine vinegar with a couple of extra rinses would be fine. And it probably would have been but I used red wine vinegar with garlic. If hell had a flavor, viennese with cinnamon coffee, red wine vinegar, garlic, half and half and honey would about cover it. It will likely be branded Satan's flavor of the month.

Toenails

The cats actively resist any kind of toe nail maintenance so I usually content myself with clipping 1 or 2 nails at a time whilst the cat in question is perched on my lap for general adoration and such. Today, I got all 20 of Puppy D's toes. This is most unusual, I've not ever gotten all 20 of hers in one session before. Not sure if it's because she's getting older and slightly less spry or because of the position I had her in. Hmmmm. Will have to try a similar position on the spry birthday boy. The Sharkbutt is 3 today. He still doesn't look like a grown up cat, looks pretty kitteny, he does.

Land of the half assed fuck wit

Often in the arcane and inane world of gubmint, decisions are made with such a collossal lack of judgement or even obvious thought that the stupidity demonstrated is almost mystical. Yes, there is a level of stupid that is so stupid it is transcendant and mystical. A perfect storm of stupid, born of arrogance, ignorance and an absolute inability to consider that someone who spends most of her day close to the action and actually managing the action might know better.

I've long maintained that an employer does not really have the ability to make someone care about their job. Go through the motions in order to get paid, sure. But care, really care, nope. But they can make you stop caring. I have begun to approach that point and it ain't pretty.

I've learned to accept a certain level of stupidity and ignorance but once that level is exceeded, my usual levels of relative equanimity fade away and I morph into the crazed loon that I was before I attained the wisdom of 40 and Buddha camp. That crazed loon can actually use 15 or more variations on the word fuck in one 18 word sentence. That crazed loon will also commence the rant by issuing the suggestion to pull one's head out of one's ass preferably one ear at a time to facilitate a less painful and hopefully swifter evacuation of the rectum. A certain amount of raving pertinent to the subject at hand and to close with the always articulate fuck 'em the fucking idiot fuck. After all that energy has been expelled, I give far less of a fuck than I did before and that's the bad news. If I disengage my attention from what I do it won't be pretty. But could be funny. Stay tuned.

Observation 2

I'm what some folks call a person of size, but my current physician and I concur that I'm fat and not getting any damned younger. So as it has been a work in progress for quite some time, I've been engaging my inner gym rat. I notice that compared to some of the 'skinny' folk at the gym my fat is hard. This makes me smirk. A lot.

Observation

By way of deep background, I don't engage in a lot of mirror time, never did much of it, don't do much of it now, as a rule. So that I happened to engage in some mug beating this morning is a bit unusual. And mostly it had something to do with getting moisturizer out of my eye. I noticed more lines around my eyes than I used to have and I have to say I kind of like them, though I'm not quite sure why. I think it might have something to do with my sister always having said "I know you're full of shit, your eyes are smiling." So the lines put me in mind that my eyes have been doing a good bit of smiling of late and that's not always been my way.

And God isn't that the biggest glass half full pile of mess I've ever managed to write?

What I Bring to The Party

A friend asked me what I thought I brought to the friendship, once upon a time. It was a question that gave me pause for a good while. Until it occurred to me the big thing that I bring to the party is that I know I'm crazy. And I try not to make excuses for it and I try really hard to give my friends room for their own brand of crazy. And it's all good.