Sunday, January 13, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
I'm kind of over the whole episode
I've only seen two dead Christmas trees out at the curb and my office building kept it's Christmas decorations up longer than I did. The building is now decorated for Martin Luther King Day.
Keeping the Christmas decorations past Christmas afternoon!? I don't know what to make of these Protestants. First some Baptists recognize lent and the next thing you know they're not throwing their tree's out until after epiphany.
You know what else I've noticed? Special K does not need to be sold with chocolate shards. Special K also does not need to be sold with strawberry flavored Styrofoam peanuts either. But it is. They hired some hot shot whose last gig was with Fruity Pebbles and now Special K has shards. It also comes with towels.
I was at the store and I saw a double box and it said Special K and it was really cheap, and it said FREE EXERCISE TOWEL. I didn't see the part about the shards. I wouldn't have bought it but now I'm stuck with two boxes of cloyingly sweet cereal that is not at all special. And the towel is really small.
Right now Dogger is eating something. I'm not sure what. Oh, she's eating the letter I got from the church asking for money! That's great! I'm totally sure that allowing my dog to eat an official church letter from a church official is not a one way ticket to hell. I all ready gave them money last week, but that was mostly because The Kitty had all ready shredded a lot of the letter and I felt bad. I think I should feed the little animals more.
Speaking Dogger. She is barking at me again. an hour ago when she was barking at me it was because she wanted me to get off the phone and I did and we watched more Sex and The City and she chilled but eventually, I really needed to watch the ER I taped last week - Here's the thing, There is no new programming right now, everything is in reruns. Nobody is watching TV anymore. It's done, it's over, we're all reading now, spending time with our families, playing board games, dressing our animals up. Why don't they just shelve what episodes they have? I think TV, I think Strike, I think striking writers not writing and I think reruns, lots and lots of reruns. There are a few shows with new episodes but I am not in a New Episode place. I've gotten out of the habit. At present I define "new" as "Aired six years ago but I never saw it" or "Food Network" . I think this week I'm going to tape the new Without A Trace instead. I might tape ER this week too and watch my Sex and The City DVDs instead.
I'm behind the writers on this, but damn, they need to tell their guy that he is not Lech Walesa and get some one in there who wants to deal. Steel workers can strike for years, because you know Plastic! but where else are we going to get new episodes of Pushing Daisies?
All this drama queening around isn't helping anyone. The AAMPAININMYASS needs remember who butters their bread . If we aren't watching TV we aren't watching ads and if we aren't watching ads we aren't buying products and if we aren't buying products the economy falters. The housing slump and the sub-prime mess started after the writers strike was underway. Does no one in Hollywood watch HGTV? nothing has sold on any of my home improvement shows, it used to be everything sold and usually for well above the asking price. You know what they say about butterflies? Also, I wouldn't know about the housing slump or the sub-prime mess if I didn't have to watch the news, which I wouldn't have to do if I could watch my TV shows.
I've only seen two dead Christmas trees out at the curb and my office building kept it's Christmas decorations up longer than I did. The building is now decorated for Martin Luther King Day.
Keeping the Christmas decorations past Christmas afternoon!? I don't know what to make of these Protestants. First some Baptists recognize lent and the next thing you know they're not throwing their tree's out until after epiphany.
You know what else I've noticed? Special K does not need to be sold with chocolate shards. Special K also does not need to be sold with strawberry flavored Styrofoam peanuts either. But it is. They hired some hot shot whose last gig was with Fruity Pebbles and now Special K has shards. It also comes with towels.
I was at the store and I saw a double box and it said Special K and it was really cheap, and it said FREE EXERCISE TOWEL. I didn't see the part about the shards. I wouldn't have bought it but now I'm stuck with two boxes of cloyingly sweet cereal that is not at all special. And the towel is really small.
Right now Dogger is eating something. I'm not sure what. Oh, she's eating the letter I got from the church asking for money! That's great! I'm totally sure that allowing my dog to eat an official church letter from a church official is not a one way ticket to hell. I all ready gave them money last week, but that was mostly because The Kitty had all ready shredded a lot of the letter and I felt bad. I think I should feed the little animals more.
Speaking Dogger. She is barking at me again. an hour ago when she was barking at me it was because she wanted me to get off the phone and I did and we watched more Sex and The City and she chilled but eventually, I really needed to watch the ER I taped last week - Here's the thing, There is no new programming right now, everything is in reruns. Nobody is watching TV anymore. It's done, it's over, we're all reading now, spending time with our families, playing board games, dressing our animals up. Why don't they just shelve what episodes they have? I think TV, I think Strike, I think striking writers not writing and I think reruns, lots and lots of reruns. There are a few shows with new episodes but I am not in a New Episode place. I've gotten out of the habit. At present I define "new" as "Aired six years ago but I never saw it" or "Food Network" . I think this week I'm going to tape the new Without A Trace instead. I might tape ER this week too and watch my Sex and The City DVDs instead.
I'm behind the writers on this, but damn, they need to tell their guy that he is not Lech Walesa and get some one in there who wants to deal. Steel workers can strike for years, because you know Plastic! but where else are we going to get new episodes of Pushing Daisies?
All this drama queening around isn't helping anyone. The AAMPAININMYASS needs remember who butters their bread . If we aren't watching TV we aren't watching ads and if we aren't watching ads we aren't buying products and if we aren't buying products the economy falters. The housing slump and the sub-prime mess started after the writers strike was underway. Does no one in Hollywood watch HGTV? nothing has sold on any of my home improvement shows, it used to be everything sold and usually for well above the asking price. You know what they say about butterflies? Also, I wouldn't know about the housing slump or the sub-prime mess if I didn't have to watch the news, which I wouldn't have to do if I could watch my TV shows.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
TMI Theatre
I decided to forgive my living room for just being itself. I made this decision because I thought it was time, it had absolutely nothing to do with the two Sex and The City DVDs I found when I came home from work. I would like to point out that I have two working DVD players in the house and I could if I wanted to, watch the DVD’s upstairs instead, but I didn’t. I choose to watch them in the living room. Grudges are so seventh grade. Don’t tell anyone, but while I was watching SiTC, the living room was totally walking around with food in its braces. It was gross.
Dogger celebrated the living room detente by joining me on the chair and falling asleep immedatly. I think it’s time for Dogger to go back to the vet. Her rash is back and even worse, the people at the park saw it. One of them got her to lie down so they could scratch her belly and there it was in all it’s angry glory. The one side is very gross. I tried to make her arrange herself so it was covered up but she wasn’t having any of it. Talk about seventh grade! On one side its pretty puppy pink and the other side its angry and red. And it’s not really a “rash” its more like chafing. I know, TMI.
Its like the guy whose office is next to mine. He has a rash. He’s had a rash. A big rash. He itches all the time. He comes into my office to bring me something and he’s itching,I go to to take him somthing and he's itching. When he’s not actully itching, he’s on the phone telling other people about his itching. At length. It’s gross, he’s gross, I am grossed. It’s almost as gross than the boss I had years ago who spent most of his time “rearranging” himself. He did it all the time, the rest of us would be breathing, he would be “arranging”. What was worse was that we worked in food service. I had a boss a few years ago who would pick his nose while talking to me about how he wanted me to phrase the email letting department heads know that Fed-Ex had been there. The itching thing is worse.
The vet is going to a rerun of the last three or four times I took Dogger in for her chafing issue. They will shave her, sell me a bottle of $17 dog shampoo with orders to bathe her twice a week, tell me there isn’t a whole lot else they can do for her, then give me a bottle of $57 antibiotics that will douse the red and return her to all over pretty puppy pink until the prescription runs out in two weeks.
The last time I took Dogger in the vet made noises about a possible food allergy but I don’t think that’s the case. I could see an allergy leaving her covered with an angry rash, not playing leap frog all over her. Poor Dogger is a quilt of shaved fur, newly regrown fur, and thinning fur covering one angry red patch.
Doggers' coat looks like my front yard in the spring. Do dogs get nematodes?
I decided to forgive my living room for just being itself. I made this decision because I thought it was time, it had absolutely nothing to do with the two Sex and The City DVDs I found when I came home from work. I would like to point out that I have two working DVD players in the house and I could if I wanted to, watch the DVD’s upstairs instead, but I didn’t. I choose to watch them in the living room. Grudges are so seventh grade. Don’t tell anyone, but while I was watching SiTC, the living room was totally walking around with food in its braces. It was gross.
Dogger celebrated the living room detente by joining me on the chair and falling asleep immedatly. I think it’s time for Dogger to go back to the vet. Her rash is back and even worse, the people at the park saw it. One of them got her to lie down so they could scratch her belly and there it was in all it’s angry glory. The one side is very gross. I tried to make her arrange herself so it was covered up but she wasn’t having any of it. Talk about seventh grade! On one side its pretty puppy pink and the other side its angry and red. And it’s not really a “rash” its more like chafing. I know, TMI.
Its like the guy whose office is next to mine. He has a rash. He’s had a rash. A big rash. He itches all the time. He comes into my office to bring me something and he’s itching,I go to to take him somthing and he's itching. When he’s not actully itching, he’s on the phone telling other people about his itching. At length. It’s gross, he’s gross, I am grossed. It’s almost as gross than the boss I had years ago who spent most of his time “rearranging” himself. He did it all the time, the rest of us would be breathing, he would be “arranging”. What was worse was that we worked in food service. I had a boss a few years ago who would pick his nose while talking to me about how he wanted me to phrase the email letting department heads know that Fed-Ex had been there. The itching thing is worse.
The vet is going to a rerun of the last three or four times I took Dogger in for her chafing issue. They will shave her, sell me a bottle of $17 dog shampoo with orders to bathe her twice a week, tell me there isn’t a whole lot else they can do for her, then give me a bottle of $57 antibiotics that will douse the red and return her to all over pretty puppy pink until the prescription runs out in two weeks.
The last time I took Dogger in the vet made noises about a possible food allergy but I don’t think that’s the case. I could see an allergy leaving her covered with an angry rash, not playing leap frog all over her. Poor Dogger is a quilt of shaved fur, newly regrown fur, and thinning fur covering one angry red patch.
Doggers' coat looks like my front yard in the spring. Do dogs get nematodes?
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
After
I miss my Christmas tree.
I walked past my living room and it's a black hole. A ugly black hole. I saw an ugly black hole full of ugly boxes. Technically my decorations are still in the room, they're just boxed up. Last year I worried about the tree making it through another year, this year I worry about the box. It's falling apart and in worse shape than the tree. The tree will is going to be fine next year but I'm afraid I'm going to have to get a new box.
Do they sell new boxes? Can you buy a Christmas tree box without having to buy a Christmas tree? I don't like the bag things they do sell, I think my tree needs the discipline of a real box. It can be very hardheaded sometimes.
Last week at this time I had a glowing jewel in my living-room. It was beautiful, it was like a huge piece of jewelry. Really expensive jewelry. Rubies, emeralds, some diamonds, an armadillo... True, it would have been a huge piece of jewelry, borderline tasteful, perhaps a large brooch - No! a display piece! And it made my whole house nicer,It made life nicer.
It made me spend time in my living-room and not just because my TV is there - I spent time in there without the TV being on! On purpose! And it wasn't just the tree either, it was the mantel mantelpiece , it was the cards and the stockings and the creche' - Duh! The creche' is still up! My little animal collection volunteered to hang out with it and they camouflaged it through the great boxing up over the weekend. Now that I think about it, that box is shot too. I know they don't sell replacement boxes for creche' sets.
I would think there would be a whole industry dedicated to replacement boxes. Boxes have limited life spans and they fail, years before whatever they hold give up the ghost. Christmas tree's for instance, I mean you have a 7.5 foot tree, its a lot like the other 7.5 foot trees and while they aren't interchangeable some are fuller than others, branch configuration varies, but still, interchangeable boxes should be available to the public. I shouldn't have to thinking about buying a whole new tree just because my box is shredded.
Sigh. You know, the boxes are still down stairs, I could put everything back up... I don't know. Maybe if I turned the lights on in that room or opened the blinds it would be less black hole-y. I could turn on the TV, switch the fireplace on, break out the fuzzy jammies, curl up with my remote, bring the dog up and get back to normal. I'm nextflixing Sex and The City the whole series. I think I'll get used to my living-room again by the time I find out which one is actually a man. I've watched the first season and I think at least one of them is a man. There's the man one, the virgin one, the pinhead one and the Sara Jessica Parker one.
I miss my Christmas tree.
I walked past my living room and it's a black hole. A ugly black hole. I saw an ugly black hole full of ugly boxes. Technically my decorations are still in the room, they're just boxed up. Last year I worried about the tree making it through another year, this year I worry about the box. It's falling apart and in worse shape than the tree. The tree will is going to be fine next year but I'm afraid I'm going to have to get a new box.
Do they sell new boxes? Can you buy a Christmas tree box without having to buy a Christmas tree? I don't like the bag things they do sell, I think my tree needs the discipline of a real box. It can be very hardheaded sometimes.
Last week at this time I had a glowing jewel in my living-room. It was beautiful, it was like a huge piece of jewelry. Really expensive jewelry. Rubies, emeralds, some diamonds, an armadillo... True, it would have been a huge piece of jewelry, borderline tasteful, perhaps a large brooch - No! a display piece! And it made my whole house nicer,It made life nicer.
It made me spend time in my living-room and not just because my TV is there - I spent time in there without the TV being on! On purpose! And it wasn't just the tree either, it was the mantel mantelpiece , it was the cards and the stockings and the creche' - Duh! The creche' is still up! My little animal collection volunteered to hang out with it and they camouflaged it through the great boxing up over the weekend. Now that I think about it, that box is shot too. I know they don't sell replacement boxes for creche' sets.
I would think there would be a whole industry dedicated to replacement boxes. Boxes have limited life spans and they fail, years before whatever they hold give up the ghost. Christmas tree's for instance, I mean you have a 7.5 foot tree, its a lot like the other 7.5 foot trees and while they aren't interchangeable some are fuller than others, branch configuration varies, but still, interchangeable boxes should be available to the public. I shouldn't have to thinking about buying a whole new tree just because my box is shredded.
Sigh. You know, the boxes are still down stairs, I could put everything back up... I don't know. Maybe if I turned the lights on in that room or opened the blinds it would be less black hole-y. I could turn on the TV, switch the fireplace on, break out the fuzzy jammies, curl up with my remote, bring the dog up and get back to normal. I'm nextflixing Sex and The City the whole series. I think I'll get used to my living-room again by the time I find out which one is actually a man. I've watched the first season and I think at least one of them is a man. There's the man one, the virgin one, the pinhead one and the Sara Jessica Parker one.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Front Page Mass
I almost went to this Mass. I had a lot to do around the house on Sunday and I thought if I worked through noon Mass I could go to this one instead. I'm so glad I didn't. I hadn't thought about covering my head, all the women are wearingtheir shame Mantillas! I knew they were going to do the Mass in Latin, I didn't realize they were also going to do the mass in 1961.
Front page of the paper! Above the fold! Isn't there a war going on?
The woman and girls veiled in the picture were all young, clearly born into a Church were they were not obligated to veil themselves. Where did those women get those mantillas anyway? I've been to a Catholic bookstore now and again over the years and I don't remember seeing them sold. Books about the evils of protestantism and failings of communism, Rosaries for giants, clocks illustrated with faces of popes throughout the years... but Google showed me the light. A search pulled up Chapel Veils and the women who wear them, and then blog all about it.
One of the veiled bloggers wears hers to Latin Rite masses she attends ( how and where? these just got okayed again, so I'm thinking break away Catholics or as the rest of us call them "heretics") at her school but not the regular weekly masses she also attends. She says it would make the other students mad or even open her up to attack! I have seen veiled women in Church and I don't believe I have ever had to fight the urge to beat them. There is a certain hint of martyrdom to the veiled women.
Who wants to attack these pure, modest, pious women? The Feminists! In 1968 NOW told us to stop wearing our veils! "Those feminazi's forced the veils from our heads and tore them from our hands!". Michelle Malkin thinks they are groovy too, but she thinks burkas are a great way to get out of shaving your legs too.
One of the veiled women reprinted some material that came with her new Chapel Veil
Because the wearing of a head covering by women at religious services is a symbol of subjection within many churches, NOW recommends that all chapters undertake an effort to have all women participate in a 'national unveiling' by sending their head coverings to the task force chairman. At the Spring meeting of the task force of women and religion, these veils will be publicly burned to protest the second class status of women in all churches. (Dec. 1968)
Well. Yeah. And Um, Nope. I want to see a real reason that the vast majority of Catholic women put their veils away and it was not because NOW told them too. There was something else. Oh, that's right Vatican II! A canon lawyer chimes in . Short version, we aren't and weren't required to wear them, true there are scriptural references to women covering their hair but not in reference to covering their hair at Mass.
Oh, and I also learned that the Liberals are to blame for our modern, uncovered hair. Liberals are also very anti-Catholic and The Veiled women are not liberals. Not even kind of. It's kind of a thing with them.
I have gone to a Latin Mass before, I thought. What I went to was the Modern Mass said in Latin, not this museum piece. Today, you will periodically , say every fifteen years or so, see a woman with her head covered in church. She is 102 years old or twenty-seven and either on her way to the convent or living in a strange retro place. It's fine to veil if she wants to, but if she had to do it every mass, every week, she would pin a kleenex on her head and pray for a short homily.
I don't get it and I don't want to wear one.
I almost went to this Mass. I had a lot to do around the house on Sunday and I thought if I worked through noon Mass I could go to this one instead. I'm so glad I didn't. I hadn't thought about covering my head, all the women are wearing
Front page of the paper! Above the fold! Isn't there a war going on?
The woman and girls veiled in the picture were all young, clearly born into a Church were they were not obligated to veil themselves. Where did those women get those mantillas anyway? I've been to a Catholic bookstore now and again over the years and I don't remember seeing them sold. Books about the evils of protestantism and failings of communism, Rosaries for giants, clocks illustrated with faces of popes throughout the years... but Google showed me the light. A search pulled up Chapel Veils and the women who wear them, and then blog all about it.
One of the veiled bloggers wears hers to Latin Rite masses she attends ( how and where? these just got okayed again, so I'm thinking break away Catholics or as the rest of us call them "heretics") at her school but not the regular weekly masses she also attends. She says it would make the other students mad or even open her up to attack! I have seen veiled women in Church and I don't believe I have ever had to fight the urge to beat them. There is a certain hint of martyrdom to the veiled women.
Who wants to attack these pure, modest, pious women? The Feminists! In 1968 NOW told us to stop wearing our veils! "Those feminazi's forced the veils from our heads and tore them from our hands!". Michelle Malkin thinks they are groovy too, but she thinks burkas are a great way to get out of shaving your legs too.
One of the veiled women reprinted some material that came with her new Chapel Veil
Because the wearing of a head covering by women at religious services is a symbol of subjection within many churches, NOW recommends that all chapters undertake an effort to have all women participate in a 'national unveiling' by sending their head coverings to the task force chairman. At the Spring meeting of the task force of women and religion, these veils will be publicly burned to protest the second class status of women in all churches. (Dec. 1968)
Well. Yeah. And Um, Nope. I want to see a real reason that the vast majority of Catholic women put their veils away and it was not because NOW told them too. There was something else. Oh, that's right Vatican II! A canon lawyer chimes in . Short version, we aren't and weren't required to wear them, true there are scriptural references to women covering their hair but not in reference to covering their hair at Mass.
Oh, and I also learned that the Liberals are to blame for our modern, uncovered hair. Liberals are also very anti-Catholic and The Veiled women are not liberals. Not even kind of. It's kind of a thing with them.
I have gone to a Latin Mass before, I thought. What I went to was the Modern Mass said in Latin, not this museum piece. Today, you will periodically , say every fifteen years or so, see a woman with her head covered in church. She is 102 years old or twenty-seven and either on her way to the convent or living in a strange retro place. It's fine to veil if she wants to, but if she had to do it every mass, every week, she would pin a kleenex on her head and pray for a short homily.
I don't get it and I don't want to wear one.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Back to my life
1+7=8 Cool!
Two replacement credit cards and a new bank account later, I decided they needed a home. It was time to replace my wallet.
Do you remember the provenance of your wallet? My stolen wallet, the one I've had since college replaced a gift from my best friend back in Junior High. I replaced it only because I thought that I had moved, at last, beyond Velcro.
Sigh. I miss my wallet. I've lost literally, gawd, I don't know over the years dozens of credit cards. They go through my fingers like water, I swear. But I have never lost a wallet, rather, it was not "lost", I have never had my wallet stolen before.
I can replace the credit cards and my drivers licence but what about my official X-Files fan club card?! What about the Worst Horoscope Ever? August of 1989 I had a horoscope that told me I could ill and not know it, should think about life on the streets and then some other warning, I think about writing thank you notes or something. I don't remember and I CAN'T GO CHECK. You know what else I can't go check? One of my credit cards in through my alumni society. I can't remember if my stolen card still used the old name of my school or if it had the new name on it. I don't like the new name, I prefer the old one. Sigh. It's not just things they steal when they steal from you.
Friday night I decided that I was tired of rooting around in my purse to find things: I needed a new wallet. I thought How Hard Can It Be? How Many Different Styles Are There? HA. A lot and A lot I don't like. I also wanted a new checkbook cover. The plastic is okay, but its so plastic and my stolen one was really cool. Sigh.
Anyway. I went to Target. Sigh. Everyone must have had their purses stolen because they were cleaned out. There were a few there, but they weren't what I wanted. The ID holders were all in the wrong place. I want to be able to hand over my ID to the store clerk with out having them hold the wallet open open. If the ID window is in the right place, the wallet stays open to the window, without splaying the rest of the contents of the wallet out for the world to see. It's very genteel. The designers of wallets for the most part are not interested in gentility.
I left with out a wallet but with some 75% off Christmas lights.
Saturday morning I was off again, this time in pursuit of a new checkbook cover. I wanted my old one back, so I went back to the store where I got it originally, but where as it turns out, there is now a cupcake store. Yay for Raleigh being all trendy, but not yay for me getting my checkbook cover back. It was special damn it. It was from Tibet, it was a Tibetan checkbook cover! Free Tibet! Give me my damn checkbook cover back!
After I walked all over Glenwood Avenue, I remembered that the Tibetan checkbook cover store may have moved to Moore Square. So I went to Moore Square. I drove.
The Tibet store was there but they didn't have checkbook covers. But what if I don't want an Issac Mizrahi checkbook cover? Purse thieves should burn in hell. I decided I didn't have to use a Mizrahi checkbook cover or wallet - even if they were the best of what I had found. I really didn't want to have to settle on this. I only replace these things never and if I don't like them now, I'm going to have a long time to not like them. And no, I won't just get used to it. Every time I use whatever it is I'll just think about what is wrong with it and why I'm not happy with it and how happy I was with my old one and how pissed I am because I don't have them anymore. Being unhappy forever with my wallet choice will not aid in my healing.
I need to heal. I went to Kohl's.
There I found a healing salve. A wallet that is almost exactly like my stolen wallet. Only a little smaller and red. I like it. The checkbook covers didn't do it for me, I want my Tibetan checkbook cover. Damn it. I was off to World Market. Perhaps I could grow to love a Guatemalan or Cambodian checkbook cover.
No love. No checkbook covers. I went home to lick my wounds.
1+7=8 Cool!
Two replacement credit cards and a new bank account later, I decided they needed a home. It was time to replace my wallet.
Do you remember the provenance of your wallet? My stolen wallet, the one I've had since college replaced a gift from my best friend back in Junior High. I replaced it only because I thought that I had moved, at last, beyond Velcro.
Sigh. I miss my wallet. I've lost literally, gawd, I don't know over the years dozens of credit cards. They go through my fingers like water, I swear. But I have never lost a wallet, rather, it was not "lost", I have never had my wallet stolen before.
I can replace the credit cards and my drivers licence but what about my official X-Files fan club card?! What about the Worst Horoscope Ever? August of 1989 I had a horoscope that told me I could ill and not know it, should think about life on the streets and then some other warning, I think about writing thank you notes or something. I don't remember and I CAN'T GO CHECK. You know what else I can't go check? One of my credit cards in through my alumni society. I can't remember if my stolen card still used the old name of my school or if it had the new name on it. I don't like the new name, I prefer the old one. Sigh. It's not just things they steal when they steal from you.
Friday night I decided that I was tired of rooting around in my purse to find things: I needed a new wallet. I thought How Hard Can It Be? How Many Different Styles Are There? HA. A lot and A lot I don't like. I also wanted a new checkbook cover. The plastic is okay, but its so plastic and my stolen one was really cool. Sigh.
Anyway. I went to Target. Sigh. Everyone must have had their purses stolen because they were cleaned out. There were a few there, but they weren't what I wanted. The ID holders were all in the wrong place. I want to be able to hand over my ID to the store clerk with out having them hold the wallet open open. If the ID window is in the right place, the wallet stays open to the window, without splaying the rest of the contents of the wallet out for the world to see. It's very genteel. The designers of wallets for the most part are not interested in gentility.
I left with out a wallet but with some 75% off Christmas lights.
Saturday morning I was off again, this time in pursuit of a new checkbook cover. I wanted my old one back, so I went back to the store where I got it originally, but where as it turns out, there is now a cupcake store. Yay for Raleigh being all trendy, but not yay for me getting my checkbook cover back. It was special damn it. It was from Tibet, it was a Tibetan checkbook cover! Free Tibet! Give me my damn checkbook cover back!
After I walked all over Glenwood Avenue, I remembered that the Tibetan checkbook cover store may have moved to Moore Square. So I went to Moore Square. I drove.
The Tibet store was there but they didn't have checkbook covers. But what if I don't want an Issac Mizrahi checkbook cover? Purse thieves should burn in hell. I decided I didn't have to use a Mizrahi checkbook cover or wallet - even if they were the best of what I had found. I really didn't want to have to settle on this. I only replace these things never and if I don't like them now, I'm going to have a long time to not like them. And no, I won't just get used to it. Every time I use whatever it is I'll just think about what is wrong with it and why I'm not happy with it and how happy I was with my old one and how pissed I am because I don't have them anymore. Being unhappy forever with my wallet choice will not aid in my healing.
I need to heal. I went to Kohl's.
There I found a healing salve. A wallet that is almost exactly like my stolen wallet. Only a little smaller and red. I like it. The checkbook covers didn't do it for me, I want my Tibetan checkbook cover. Damn it. I was off to World Market. Perhaps I could grow to love a Guatemalan or Cambodian checkbook cover.
No love. No checkbook covers. I went home to lick my wounds.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
Mad Dogs
You know what would be good? If they had a column in the paper called What All Those Sirens Were About, it could say "If you live in X neighborhood and you heard a whole lot of sirens last night around X time, it was a warehouse fire" and it could go on "If you live in Y area and you heard a lot of sirens about X time, it was a burglary in progress" and "If you live in Z area, and you heard sirens at X time, they were going to a heart attack". It would also be nice if there was a web site out there that gave examples of local sirens this is an example of Town fire truck, this is the ambulance, this is the cop car. All the sirens are different in a city, the sheriff sirens are different from the highway patrol which are different from the city cops. We also have Capital Police and Dix as police too. I want to know who and what I hear so often.
I learned through my job that if you are involuntarily committed, you are picked up by sheriff's deputies and they cuff you and throw you in their cruiser and they will come and get you whenever they get the time. If you weren't suffering from paranoia and you didn't have a persecution complex, you will after some guy comes in the middle of the night and slaps you in cuffs. But on the other hand, you don't get involuntarily committed because you are little Mary Sunshine anyway. Maybe it makes you even more obnoxious because all of a sudden your paranoia seems justified. It would suck to listen to some guy and all the little voices in his head telling you they told you so.
On to another topic. A little.
I took Dogger back to the park today. One because she needed to get out a little and the ground there is very padded for her poor sore feet and joints, and two because I thought that the extreme cold would scare away the fair-weather park goers and allow Dogger to have a unfettered trip for once. And I was right, there were only seven or eight dogs there, the last time we went while it was warmer there were twenty-five and that's just too many and people just do not supervise their dogs the way they should. They aren't at a playground and their "kids" aren't little children, they are in actuality, very well armed, not very bright, full grown animals.
We weren't even through the gate when this smallish sized dog snarled at Dogger through the fence.And if Dogger had snarled back at the little beast the melee would look like Doggers fault. I had Dogger on the leash and she forgot about the little beast after we came in but the whole time I was thinking Dumb Dog! I've seen Dogger take a larger dog than you down to the ground for pulling that kind of crap with her before she was even through the gate .
I'm afraid my anxiety is beginning to affect her. She did a little playing but mostly she spent her time leaning hard into me. The couple of times she did go out and about I followed her because now I'm always worried about What If... and today she seemed kind of shy with the other dogs and not really invested in the play. She preferred the outer boundaries of the park, and part of me thinks Aimless wandering away from the other dogs is okay, it's safe and good exercise for us both. But on the other hand, It's really cold. Is this worth it? She can lean against me at home, she can wander in our own yard. I come out here and make the effort to be here because this is supposed to be fun for her and me. Is she having fun? Do I dare let her? in the past I've watched her joyfully join in to the dog park society and have a huge blast and I know it's had a positive effect on her.
Other dog owners have said that the park has made their dogs more agressive, but maybe that's just a by-product of being a dog around a lot of other dogs and dogs at play sometimes play agressively, "playing rough" and that is part of being an animal. The big dogs at the park play rough, Dogger is a big dog and she plays like one. The big dogs play rough and they get into it - little dogs and even full sized people have been known to get run over.
She has to be really pushed to get teethy, but, when she took down the dog at the gate that time, now months ago, we had been there less than a minute and I only turned my back to shut the gate. The other dog may have started it but Dogger was going to finish it.
That happened months ago. But lately, any agressive sounds at the park make me nervous and I'm making her nervous. I want us both to go and have fun.
You know what would be good? If they had a column in the paper called What All Those Sirens Were About, it could say "If you live in X neighborhood and you heard a whole lot of sirens last night around X time, it was a warehouse fire" and it could go on "If you live in Y area and you heard a lot of sirens about X time, it was a burglary in progress" and "If you live in Z area, and you heard sirens at X time, they were going to a heart attack". It would also be nice if there was a web site out there that gave examples of local sirens this is an example of Town fire truck, this is the ambulance, this is the cop car. All the sirens are different in a city, the sheriff sirens are different from the highway patrol which are different from the city cops. We also have Capital Police and Dix as police too. I want to know who and what I hear so often.
I learned through my job that if you are involuntarily committed, you are picked up by sheriff's deputies and they cuff you and throw you in their cruiser and they will come and get you whenever they get the time. If you weren't suffering from paranoia and you didn't have a persecution complex, you will after some guy comes in the middle of the night and slaps you in cuffs. But on the other hand, you don't get involuntarily committed because you are little Mary Sunshine anyway. Maybe it makes you even more obnoxious because all of a sudden your paranoia seems justified. It would suck to listen to some guy and all the little voices in his head telling you they told you so.
On to another topic. A little.
I took Dogger back to the park today. One because she needed to get out a little and the ground there is very padded for her poor sore feet and joints, and two because I thought that the extreme cold would scare away the fair-weather park goers and allow Dogger to have a unfettered trip for once. And I was right, there were only seven or eight dogs there, the last time we went while it was warmer there were twenty-five and that's just too many and people just do not supervise their dogs the way they should. They aren't at a playground and their "kids" aren't little children, they are in actuality, very well armed, not very bright, full grown animals.
We weren't even through the gate when this smallish sized dog snarled at Dogger through the fence.And if Dogger had snarled back at the little beast the melee would look like Doggers fault. I had Dogger on the leash and she forgot about the little beast after we came in but the whole time I was thinking Dumb Dog! I've seen Dogger take a larger dog than you down to the ground for pulling that kind of crap with her before she was even through the gate .
I'm afraid my anxiety is beginning to affect her. She did a little playing but mostly she spent her time leaning hard into me. The couple of times she did go out and about I followed her because now I'm always worried about What If... and today she seemed kind of shy with the other dogs and not really invested in the play. She preferred the outer boundaries of the park, and part of me thinks Aimless wandering away from the other dogs is okay, it's safe and good exercise for us both. But on the other hand, It's really cold. Is this worth it? She can lean against me at home, she can wander in our own yard. I come out here and make the effort to be here because this is supposed to be fun for her and me. Is she having fun? Do I dare let her? in the past I've watched her joyfully join in to the dog park society and have a huge blast and I know it's had a positive effect on her.
Other dog owners have said that the park has made their dogs more agressive, but maybe that's just a by-product of being a dog around a lot of other dogs and dogs at play sometimes play agressively, "playing rough" and that is part of being an animal. The big dogs at the park play rough, Dogger is a big dog and she plays like one. The big dogs play rough and they get into it - little dogs and even full sized people have been known to get run over.
She has to be really pushed to get teethy, but, when she took down the dog at the gate that time, now months ago, we had been there less than a minute and I only turned my back to shut the gate. The other dog may have started it but Dogger was going to finish it.
That happened months ago. But lately, any agressive sounds at the park make me nervous and I'm making her nervous. I want us both to go and have fun.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
The Late Shift
Dogger and I are recovering from our forced march. Dogger is sore, I'm sore. If my two legs are stiff and hateful this morning I can only imagine how her four legs are taking it out on her. Last night she was hobbling around. At one point I heard her whimpering because she couldn't get up off her bed! I had to hold her up by her harness, like a little doggy gate belt and walk her outside so she could pee.
I was hobbling, she was hobbling. We were sad.
And then we both went to bed. For a while. At two something she needed to go out to pee. Fine. I don't know how familiar you are with weather patterns in the southeastern U.S, but Tuesday night? A front came though, a cold front and into this Dogger needed to go out and pee. It was very cold in my nightgown. I was alert enough at two something to remember to turn off the alarm but I was not alert enough to find shoes. I am fairly certain I heard Dogger chortle as she wandered all over the front yard to find the perfect place to pee.
But, I was okay with it. She would have been awake earlier if I hadn't forced her to hike for hours. This was my penance. She did her thing and we went back inside, I locked the door, gave her a cookie, put her back to bed and then I went back to bed - Happy that her feet had recovered enough to wander around the yard that way for so long. I was rewarded by the Kitty curling up against me, purring.
At four something I became aware of another sound. Whimpering. Dogger has only woken me up in the middle of the night a few times, when she was a puppy and when she was very, very ill. The two something pee break didn't worry me be that much because she had slept through her regularly scheduled potty breaks. She woke up, she relived herself and she should have gone back to sleep. End of story.
Now, hours later she was up again. I was having some bad flashbacks of the last time I wandered around in the yard with her in the middle of the night.
At four something I was more alert. I had both glasses and shoes on. While we were out front a cop car zoomed down the street. he didn't seem to notice the woman wandering around her yard in her night gown. Maybe he didn't even see. He was speeding. I thought I looked very odd. Maybe a lot of women around there wander their yards with their dogs in the middle of the night in their nightgowns. I'm usually asleep then.
Dogger didn't want to use the front yard. Dogger wanted to growl at a plastic bag in a neighbors yard. I took this as a good sign. If she felt strong enough to want to throw down with a bag, she couldn't feel that bad. When she was ill, she was pretty single minded about her potty breaks.
We went to to the backyard where she found the perfect spot. although you could tell her joints were hurting her. I thought momentarily about going and propping her up but she took care of business on her own. The she wanted to play. She wanted to play chase and I started to feel significantly less sorry for her.
We went back to bed. Two hours later I was out wandering around the yard again, this time it was for our regularly scheduled trip to the yard. She still seems a little tender, but then so am I. I, like her, feel very tired now - but not so tired that I'm not going to trot her butt outside every hour or so before we both go to bed and stay in bed.
Dogger and I are recovering from our forced march. Dogger is sore, I'm sore. If my two legs are stiff and hateful this morning I can only imagine how her four legs are taking it out on her. Last night she was hobbling around. At one point I heard her whimpering because she couldn't get up off her bed! I had to hold her up by her harness, like a little doggy gate belt and walk her outside so she could pee.
I was hobbling, she was hobbling. We were sad.
And then we both went to bed. For a while. At two something she needed to go out to pee. Fine. I don't know how familiar you are with weather patterns in the southeastern U.S, but Tuesday night? A front came though, a cold front and into this Dogger needed to go out and pee. It was very cold in my nightgown. I was alert enough at two something to remember to turn off the alarm but I was not alert enough to find shoes. I am fairly certain I heard Dogger chortle as she wandered all over the front yard to find the perfect place to pee.
But, I was okay with it. She would have been awake earlier if I hadn't forced her to hike for hours. This was my penance. She did her thing and we went back inside, I locked the door, gave her a cookie, put her back to bed and then I went back to bed - Happy that her feet had recovered enough to wander around the yard that way for so long. I was rewarded by the Kitty curling up against me, purring.
At four something I became aware of another sound. Whimpering. Dogger has only woken me up in the middle of the night a few times, when she was a puppy and when she was very, very ill. The two something pee break didn't worry me be that much because she had slept through her regularly scheduled potty breaks. She woke up, she relived herself and she should have gone back to sleep. End of story.
Now, hours later she was up again. I was having some bad flashbacks of the last time I wandered around in the yard with her in the middle of the night.
At four something I was more alert. I had both glasses and shoes on. While we were out front a cop car zoomed down the street. he didn't seem to notice the woman wandering around her yard in her night gown. Maybe he didn't even see. He was speeding. I thought I looked very odd. Maybe a lot of women around there wander their yards with their dogs in the middle of the night in their nightgowns. I'm usually asleep then.
Dogger didn't want to use the front yard. Dogger wanted to growl at a plastic bag in a neighbors yard. I took this as a good sign. If she felt strong enough to want to throw down with a bag, she couldn't feel that bad. When she was ill, she was pretty single minded about her potty breaks.
We went to to the backyard where she found the perfect spot. although you could tell her joints were hurting her. I thought momentarily about going and propping her up but she took care of business on her own. The she wanted to play. She wanted to play chase and I started to feel significantly less sorry for her.
We went back to bed. Two hours later I was out wandering around the yard again, this time it was for our regularly scheduled trip to the yard. She still seems a little tender, but then so am I. I, like her, feel very tired now - but not so tired that I'm not going to trot her butt outside every hour or so before we both go to bed and stay in bed.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
The Long Walk Home
I stayed up New Years Eve and watched the ball drop. Dogger, The Kitty and I each had a spot of champagne- which Dogger liked until she realized it wasn’t water while The Kitty was put out that I even made him taste it - It was $8.99 a bottle from the grocery store, I shouldn’t have been surprised The Kitty didn’t like it. I drank two glasses and dumped the rest into my New Years Day greens and black eyed peas and then I stayed up too late reading my book.
I party hard.
New Years Day, however. I got moving. I ate some of my greens and peas and Dogger and I headed over to Broskey and Alphagals to go for a long walk . I decided we wanted to do this after an unfulfilling trip to the park New Years Eve. Curse Drama Dog.
Dogger was very excited about going for a walk.
About two hours into our walk, the first time I told Dogger It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home, I was lying, lying, lying. I didn’t know I was lying, but I was lying. The second time I told her that, about an hour later, she just looked at me. She knew I was lying to her.. A couple hours later, when we were actually almost home, and I told her that again, she looked at me as if to say You know what? Why don’t you just stop talking for a while. I don’t want either of us to say anything we’ll be sorry for. We should just walk in silence for a while, okay?
In my defense, I did think the trail looped around. And it does, as Alphgal told me later : The earth does curve.
At one point I took a path off the path, it was as paved and marked as the “real” path and it seemed to go back in the direction I needed to be going in, and I thought that if I followed it, I would at be heading back in the direction I had started in, the land of milk and honey where I had left my car. And so we walked and walked and walked and oddly, on this trail there were no walkers or bikers or horses. Finally, a pair of horseback riders past us and I at least thought we were heading in the right direction. I never saw them again. Time passes, at about the time I was concerned that I had made a terrible mistake, a biker passed us., I asked her if she knew where the trail spit out and she said she didn’t know but we could always turn around. Easy for someone on a bike to say. Bikes are faster and they cover more ground then say, someone on foot. She disappeared ahead of us and I finally saw a horse print which laid to rest my suspicions that they had been raised up bodily. We walked and walked and I was like Shouldn’t I be hearing the road by now? And where is everybody? Before we turned off I felt like I was at the mall.. And then the biker came back and reported the trail had washed out and she sped away.
!@#$&*^%.
We turned around. It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home”. Walk, walk, walk, walk. We got back to the main trail and met about 3000 fellow hikers/bikers/horseback riders. And no one else looked like they had been walking forever. The other dogs weren’t trudging, they were trotting. Pretty much I was dragging Dogger along behind me. And we walked some more because the end of the trail must be soon right? And we pass a grave yard and I had dark thoughts about this damn endless trail This is what purgatory is. Act right or you’ll just keep walking and walking and going nowhere. Be good or spend eternity walking this trail. Heaven may be at the other end but by the time you get there, you’ll be too tired to care.
And we kept walking. We could have turned around but what if the end was around the next turn? Finally, a You Are Here sign . I was relived to see we were not actually in Virginia, the map, which I read incorrectly ( how many You Are Here arrows does one sign need? Is it really necessary to give an example of what the You Are Here arrow looks like?!), seemed to put me dangerously near Cary and even worse The Airport! You don’t walk to the airport! The airport is not near where I left my car!
We turned around. It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home!. Walk, walk, walk.
And we walked right into Broskey, Alphagal and Tiny E! Yay! Dogger asked to ride in Tiny E’s buggy. They went on their merry way and we walked on.
And on
and on
and on.
Seven miles is a very long way. I brought Dogger home and she passed out half way through her dinner. I'm going to be careful how I use the W word for a while.
I stayed up New Years Eve and watched the ball drop. Dogger, The Kitty and I each had a spot of champagne- which Dogger liked until she realized it wasn’t water while The Kitty was put out that I even made him taste it - It was $8.99 a bottle from the grocery store, I shouldn’t have been surprised The Kitty didn’t like it. I drank two glasses and dumped the rest into my New Years Day greens and black eyed peas and then I stayed up too late reading my book.
I party hard.
New Years Day, however. I got moving. I ate some of my greens and peas and Dogger and I headed over to Broskey and Alphagals to go for a long walk . I decided we wanted to do this after an unfulfilling trip to the park New Years Eve. Curse Drama Dog.
Dogger was very excited about going for a walk.
About two hours into our walk, the first time I told Dogger It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home, I was lying, lying, lying. I didn’t know I was lying, but I was lying. The second time I told her that, about an hour later, she just looked at me. She knew I was lying to her.. A couple hours later, when we were actually almost home, and I told her that again, she looked at me as if to say You know what? Why don’t you just stop talking for a while. I don’t want either of us to say anything we’ll be sorry for. We should just walk in silence for a while, okay?
In my defense, I did think the trail looped around. And it does, as Alphgal told me later : The earth does curve.
At one point I took a path off the path, it was as paved and marked as the “real” path and it seemed to go back in the direction I needed to be going in, and I thought that if I followed it, I would at be heading back in the direction I had started in, the land of milk and honey where I had left my car. And so we walked and walked and walked and oddly, on this trail there were no walkers or bikers or horses. Finally, a pair of horseback riders past us and I at least thought we were heading in the right direction. I never saw them again. Time passes, at about the time I was concerned that I had made a terrible mistake, a biker passed us., I asked her if she knew where the trail spit out and she said she didn’t know but we could always turn around. Easy for someone on a bike to say. Bikes are faster and they cover more ground then say, someone on foot. She disappeared ahead of us and I finally saw a horse print which laid to rest my suspicions that they had been raised up bodily. We walked and walked and I was like Shouldn’t I be hearing the road by now? And where is everybody? Before we turned off I felt like I was at the mall.. And then the biker came back and reported the trail had washed out and she sped away.
!@#$&*^%.
We turned around. It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home”. Walk, walk, walk, walk. We got back to the main trail and met about 3000 fellow hikers/bikers/horseback riders. And no one else looked like they had been walking forever. The other dogs weren’t trudging, they were trotting. Pretty much I was dragging Dogger along behind me. And we walked some more because the end of the trail must be soon right? And we pass a grave yard and I had dark thoughts about this damn endless trail This is what purgatory is. Act right or you’ll just keep walking and walking and going nowhere. Be good or spend eternity walking this trail. Heaven may be at the other end but by the time you get there, you’ll be too tired to care.
And we kept walking. We could have turned around but what if the end was around the next turn? Finally, a You Are Here sign . I was relived to see we were not actually in Virginia, the map, which I read incorrectly ( how many You Are Here arrows does one sign need? Is it really necessary to give an example of what the You Are Here arrow looks like?!), seemed to put me dangerously near Cary and even worse The Airport! You don’t walk to the airport! The airport is not near where I left my car!
We turned around. It’s okay baby girl, we’re almost home!. Walk, walk, walk.
And we walked right into Broskey, Alphagal and Tiny E! Yay! Dogger asked to ride in Tiny E’s buggy. They went on their merry way and we walked on.
And on
and on
and on.
Seven miles is a very long way. I brought Dogger home and she passed out half way through her dinner. I'm going to be careful how I use the W word for a while.
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