Happy Samhain!

What will your year hold?

Well...except during the Full Moon. Then its Professor Snape.

Your result for The Harry Potter Husband Test...

Mrs. Lupin

You like a nice, kind guy with a bit of a fierce streak and you don't mind if he comes damaged. Sure, he may take some convincing since his self-esteem's so low, but once you win him over, you know he's yours for life. Unless of course he has an attack of "I'm not good enough" and runs away, but luckily he's also good at making friends who will push him back into line if necessary.

(Art by Gold-Seven http://gold-seven.deviantart.com/ Used with permission.)

Take The Harry Potter Husband Test at HelloQuizzy

I Haven't Seen a Turn Out Like This In 64 Years!

This is going to start with me surrounding my wonderful mom with some protective white light. Yeeeeesssss I'm using her as entertainment, but we all know the rules there. We are the only ones allowed to make fun of our mom's. Anyone else gets cut off.

My mom is around four feet seven inches. The fact that I can legally drive at a towering 5 foot half an inch is a miracle. In elementary school the other kids loved how tiny she was. It made us all feel as though we were growing. Even now Humanling boasts how she's almost as tall as Grandma Carousel. Until I retort with "Even Azrael is taller than Grandma". [*Azrael = blacker than a NIN soul presence stuffed into a bored feline's body]. She runs a carousel and gets to wear a polo shirt with a little horsey on it.

All that is evil in me, definitely was channeled from other sources. My mother never passed it to me. Even if she has issues, they weren't passed to me. Just like the beets...never passed to me.

I figured I'd give her a call today, something I don't do enough but never seems to override my hatred of being ball and chained to a phone. We use a phone with a cord. We have a cordless....but I unplugged it and sentenced it to the closet to try and chip off a level of rampant EMF's around here. Having a child with epilepsy will make you think twice about what they put up to their heads. A cordless is on its way to being as bad as a cell phone. And Humanling inherited the gift of unlimited gab between her Grandma Carousel and her hillbilly father, Cavey.

I've not once, asked my mom if she was voting or who for. So today I asked. She said she's not registered. So I asked if she was registered at her last address.....TEN YEARS AGO.

My mom has never been a registered voter.

My mom has never voted.

And even though, after downloading the empowering PDF, filling in her information while on the phone with her and telling her to mail it off immediately, I know we won't vote the same. But I can't stand the thought that my mom has always had this right and hasn't used it once.

I just handed "the republican and that lady Susan?" a freebie.

My daughter, Miz Eye, on the other hand, will not be voting. She's 21...I thought she might be stoked to use the Force, searing her choice down like a blade on fire.

I believe she mentioned that they are both evil and something to the effect of not wasting her time.

A few things seem to skip a generation I've noticed. Both my mom and Miz Eye have a record of being happily in a long committed relationship, Their cups are not affected by coffee (my plate happens to be a snuff smaller than them but I figure it comes with the nearly vegan territory) and neither of them were going to vote this year.

To the McCain fans ~ don't get your hopes up on my mom's vote. She says she doesn't know how to work the levers - and I might not tell her.

Grab Some Spighetti and Read Me A Halloween Story

Seen on a health post:

My friend told me her friend had a colonic with ozoniated water and a nest of live worms evacuated. This friend also had a doctor place ozone in herear; immediately after a worm came out of her chest- underneath her skin.It later evacuated in the bowels.

******

Note to self: Do not eat at her house.

Or use the bathroom.

Can't the Director of HSM Just Write My Story Too?

Thankfully I have a nine year old girl.

This enabled me to see Zac Efron without a shirt on, showing off his new 21 year old biceps.

We had to practically camp out to get into High School Musical 3, but because of my usual tendency to show up somewhere early due to OCD, we had prime seats.

It opened with what from my view was an eight foot tall vision of Efron's face, sweating and panting. That director knows what's up. Who's taking all these little girls, running down the movie corridors to this movie? Yeah, maybe its daddy's weekend for custody, but its mostly mom that probably *sacrificed* her time to go.

I could almost do without busting into song constantly but being as the word *Musical* is in the title, I've been forewarned. Buyer Beware.

As the two main characters, Troy and Gabriella, struggle with their usual teen events that trigger ballads and rebellious This Is Who I Am songs with a tang of guitar in it, I turn to the last week that has passed.

I guess for all intensive purposes, I'd have to say that things for now have wound down with :d00t:.

Something Miss Darbus said reminded me of why this all went down - (Yes, Miss Darbus the drama teacher in HSM) - It takes courage to follow your intuition.

My intution has been nagging at me that I still am not ready to plunge after my laborious duties to my ex the Turd Van Blossom. I am slowly undepleting from the whole thing. I am capable of dating. I am capable of wanting someone. I am not at this time taking my heart out of the vault however. It's not time. Not because I'm bitter on love. But because its what intution tells me. Take it easy, girl! No pushing things into a heavy relationship just yet. I have things to accomplish and focus on right now.

I have a child with epilepsy who sleeps next to me at night. I won't allow her to sleep in her own room. Her more major seizures have been coming out of consciousness in the morning and if she weren't next to me, I wouldn't be privvy to that. (Is that how to spell privvy? If it isn't, I'm leaving it anyway. I like it.) Most of my time is spent thinking of what I will be feeding her and I (we're gluten free and dairy free for those who aren't familiar) AND we're vegetarian but do eat eggs. Neuro issues are complex. I have to watch what she eats and make it count whatever she does eat (we're skinny girls....we don't eat a lot in one sitting). Now she's had the petit mal seizures for years...those aren't anything that I've had to worry about too much. I was told they could go away or blossom into more wonderful, complex seizures later on. She's been on two medications for years.

It would seem that we were thrown in the pool for the more wonderful seizures as well since Humanling had one in August. That one was straight up frightening. I knew what it was but couldn't sleep or eat for days after that. I was seeing the :doot: during this and had asked for some extra time to myself because it was just draining and I really just couldn't spend any more energy on relationship type pursuits for that time, whether or not I realized it. I just knew that I needed time. Humanling was also not gluten free right before the seizure. She was Mostly gluten free. The day before the seizure, she'd had more gluten than a bakery.

So we went strict.

And then she had a sleep over last week. I sent her with a militant list, her own food (including bread) snacks and meds. Only to have the parent drop her off the next morning with a drive by of an apology of *I gave her an english muffin. Sorry. Hope nothing bad happens but she said she was hungry*.

That would be the same as if I gave her child a jar of peanut butter. You see, I thought she'd understand because HER kid has a peanut allergy. On top of it, Humanling informed me (yes, she tells on herself, and I didn't prompt it) that her friend dispensed vitamins to her. At night and in the morning. Well guess what. I'm one of those freak moms that many moms love to have a joke about - *GOD, slightly wound tight, eh?* The vitamins she had were full of dyes, not to mention a child should not dispense vitamins without the parent knowing and not at night and in the morning.

Four mornings after gluten, Humanling wakes up in a seizure. We've been free of them for over 2 months. Was it the gluten? Was it the nature of the beast? Coicidence that the gluten was present days beforehand?

Now in :doot:'s correspondance with me, he is very hurt, very inside his feelings and himself right now. I understand that. I really really do. I also understand that he has some personal issues going on that might compound that. In his reaction to my honesty of laying it all out...and I did....meaning - he didn't do anything wrong. I tried to say that there is no blame. There is a timing thing, yes. I did run with it from the beginning and then slowly pulled away over time. I was too consumed by that initial reunion and disbelief that he was still there - still available, still wanting to spend time with me. But then I realized that I'm just not ready still. I thought I was ready, I tried to be ready. But....I'm just not. . Maybe there is blame and I'm not seeing it. But I don't even blame the Turd VB for leaving because it was the right thing to do. He didn't want to be with me, didn't want to be a family or a step dad anymore and he left. Isn't that the right thing to do?

I didn't bother the :doot: with Humanling's seizure. He was still trying to deal with whatever it is on his end that he is working through. All I know is that right now, I felt that at first, I was being typecast again, as the wicked one. The one who lures people in with the intention of raking their heart out with a dull fork and throwing it against the gas station window across the way to watch it splat and then catch itself over and over on the way down, like a sticky hand. For some reason, I just don't think he thinks right now that I have a side. That really, what I am doing is withdrawing from our verbal contract and not giving it a second thought. But I have my life, full of things, as does anyone else. My time and energy is tied up 98% with the little being that I'd wanted with all of my heart and am keeping my promise to take care of her. I just want the leftover 2% to do with what I will, without having to uphold my end of a serious relationship. It sounds so selfish. But someday I will have time for that relationship. Or rather, will make the time without feeling that other things are being neglected. Like myself.

Or..put into other words....I have a ton of other things on my mind that crowd and try to take 2nd place (Humanling gets 1st).

I don't like to hurt people, ever. Which is why I haven't retaliated at all with Turd, but really really fought it. But in the end, Good won and evil was boiled into a sweet pudding. I didn't want to hurt :doot: and question my motives as to why this is all happening. I certainly didn't foresee it like this, but I haven't figured out the In-between. Or if its fair for the other person to deal with an in-between.

Back to Miss Darbus - It takes courage to follow your intuition.

I need my time with the Humanling. She is going to grow up and toss me for someone with a bit more testosterone someday. Mine and the :doot's dates had to be a day long and a night - it was an LDR and you can't really just hang for a movie and go home after that. You can't just have dinner together and do the small spurt thing. When you live that far, your dates have to be long. You have to be serious it seems and you have to be ready for the next logical step to bridge the gap.

I need what time is mine, after Humanling is asleep, to follow my pursuits, to connect with friends, to budget (Ha ha ha! Yeah right! More like creative accounting. More like calling the car company to make an arrangement so that Shades's car is still there in the morning, more like calling the Internet Gods to let them know a payment just went out so that I can still work from home, more like know that we can't live the standard American diet because its poison - therefore things are a tad pricier...or that because of all the bounced checks so as to pay who needs paying - about $800 was missing from my direct deposit last week due to fees and covering those checks....you can imagine what is left for the next two weeks is a fun challenge for me). The :doot: doesn't see this side. What does he see? I don't know. But I'm more than occupied. I'm wondering at all times, just how am I going to do the switch and lift the cup game of what is getting paid on time and what will take some mathematic spacing on the calendar. My guess is that of course after having Me Time for three years, the :doot: is maybe also in a very good place to take the next step. I sound like a train wreck on the other hand. Freshly divorced a month ago.

It's fall and its fair time as well. I'm usually making things to sell at the fairs. Humanling has an agenda as well that I have to work with. Or I'm in front of the stove for hours, which I love, but it is time consuming.

I'm voracious about reading. I need to devour, I need to learn. My goal since I was 22 was to go into energy healing. I need to be serious about this because its still what I read about, its still my interest, my passion. Is this why a monk is alone? To focus, to study, to caretake (clean, cook, etc)? I'm not comparing myself to a monk. I don't have that kind of focus just yet.

My house is in disarray today. I'm out of focus. I want to do something quality with Humanling today. And I want to read. To excercise, to study, to create. It whirlwinds around my head and instead, I will either take action, or wander from room to room picking up tiny things that have easy answers as to where they should be.

One question is - Will I ever date? I guess I would if it seemed right. It's not a goal, but its not an obsolete idea either. To get me to make a date to go anywhere or have anyone in my house sometimes takes pulling teeth. I'm an extrovert while out but once I'm in, my world seals off.

The other question would be - will Humanling will ever sleep at someone else's house again.

And....will there be a HSM 4? And would Troy lose a game of strip poker in it?

Who Writes in Pencil?

One of my favorite websites used to be Found Magazine. I'd pop up daily, as if entering my usual coffee shop...getting my usual and settling down to swap tidbits with the locals.



The site is basically the junk drawer in the kitchen. Lists, notes, random photos. All found somewhere and sent in to the website.


Why are we so interested in other's peoples personal lint? I don't know, but I am. My imagination automatically throws everyone into the


I saw this list on the ground next to my stoop. It's written in Old People and its written in pencil. I thought it was a rather handsome list, just dying to be on the cover of So I Don't Forget monthly. Each item is stunningly scratched off in what had to be a travelling pencil on this contained scavenger hunt.

I can see why the fifth one down was not crossed off however. My suggestion would be to check Facebook for Lorraine Swiss. Tell her I said Hi.

Kiss Me Sweet Sweet Love

Love. I have found love again. All over my tongue, smooth in my mouth with a light sweetness that I didn't know existed.

I closed my eyes and held onto the stovetop. Just heaven.

I've never had agave nectar before. I'm a nectar newbie. But I cut up a local MacIntosh apple and drizzled the agave all over it. Yes....All.....over....it.....

Nothing could have complimented that apple any better. Well....I'd almost vote for the caramel covering but it'd have to be without wooden stick.

I charged into the room, fork straight out like a spear in battle, toward Humanling.

"Taste this."

Suspicious and worried look. She knows me. A food politician. I'll tell her anything to get one bite into her mouth. I've bombed this test many times. The last one being a mere few days ago with a chocolate coconut bar that I was told would taste like a mounds. Sure. If I buried it in the yard and forgot about it for a few years, dug it back up and then fried it with red peppers.

Did I mention she hated the bar? As did I? And we ran through Borders from the kids section to the garbage covering our mouths, desperate for a napkin?

Back to what's on the fork.

"No really, it's like sugar, you gotta taste it, you'll love it, I promise."

She took the bait. And gave the thumbs up.

Awwww yeah. This diet doesn't suck.

See? This Diet Doesn't Suck

Many of you may know that the Humanling and I are gluten free beings. And since I've had to go Rambo on her with the watch on what she ingests, she's complained here and there. And there. And there.

We've bought gluten free cookies. Rock hard.

And gluten free 'granola' bars. They sucked.

And it took me about $5 per experiment to find that out. Not even eating the whole bar, just a bite and basically I just watched five dollars seep out into the litter box.

It's tough for the Humanling not to feel left out during school parties or events (Pizza night! Donuts for Dad! Burger King night!). She couldn't just go to a school for hermits like I did. We had one event all year long in the Spring.

One such event where a boy walked up to me and asked if the man behind me was my father. Affirmative.

He morphed into a blur as I heard the word "BYE!" sear through the air.

I'm not kidding when I say my dad can wither with a glance. No words, not even an exhale. You'd better hope when he is fixing his eyes on you that its good enough to be a neutral moment or at best, a small fragment of admiration or agreement.

Humanling's school was having yet another event. I say this with exhaustion. There's an event hourly. It was some Smores at night thing. She paid for it and Cavey, her dad, *planned* on going. We had to cancel due to Humanling's being sick that day so the test results on reliability would have been just to make a point.

I tried to prepare ahead of time. Cavey is basically like the event that shows up and has no regard for anyone's rules. He does it with charm. As the ex wife, it is my job to be the only soul whose view of Impressed excludes all his efforts.

He would surely feed her gluten. And pass her back to me. Because he doesn't have to deal with the fall out.

However.

I found gluten free graham crackers at the store. Joy! I could send her with those.

Well, since she didn't go, we made them ourselves last night, during a sweet craving. And we loved them.

They didn't suck.

A View Down a Connecticut Road

I did mention how much I love New England this time of year at least once, right?

I've worn a path down this one road a zillion times and this time of year I find myself looking at it like an adolescent finally sees the plain girl next door across the room. She's bloomed.

This road appeared to me to wear jersey sweaters with an O. Not for Oprah.

What's going to happen to O magazine if Obama becomes president?

This is what nearly transfixes me into a lane swerve whenever I drive past it. It's a narrow Ish road without much forgiveness.

Or maybe its because from this angle its subliminally phallic.

You can also find my favorite coffee roaster (and neighbor) out for a ride. I didn't recognize him when he pulled up next to me in his stuponatron helmet. He must have completely disabled my sensitive coffee sensors, for when he greeted me, I acted as though he were another crazy guy out to make small talk. Until I saw past the helmet. How could you NOT want your coffee roasted by a guy with this kind of Vim and Vigor??? His place is Redding Roasters. He's in the side bar over there to the right if you want to see what he does. He also knows how to oil screen doors when the cat continually knocks it off the track.

Moo! Trick or Teets!

One Lump of Buddism in my Coffee today please

A person getting enlightened is like the moon reflecting in the water. The moon does not get wet, the water is not disturbed. Though it is a great expanse of light, it reflects in a little bit of water; the whole moon and the whole sky reflect even in the dew on the grass; they reflect even in a single drop of water. Enlightenment not disturbing the person is like the moon not piercing the water. A person not obstructing enlightenment is like the dewdrop not obstructing the heavens.-Dogen, "Flowers Fall"

.....dang. Wasn't that THE MOST? I WISH I could have written that....and not only b.s.'d my way through it, experienced it daily , owned it and worn the recycled t-shirt that went with it!

I swear though, I'm on my way. When I look back, I can no longer even see the starting point.

President of the United States Arf America

Why doesn't a dog just run for President? I don't know about you, but I can definitely see here where the balance in power seems to tip.

Or. The dog is merely on a leash in order to keep the owner from having to play Marco Polo with clean up duty (really hard not to make the Doodie pun here).

Shades Bueller's Day Off

I took a day off! Pffff...big deal, right? Who doesn't.

Being a single mama though, usually my days are reserved for anything with a hair of Humanling attached to it. I decided a couple of days ago that the Fall of 2008 was not going to pass me by without me being carried along the wind for a day. All alone.

My friends at work asked what I would do. And as I told my friend, Ham (she sits across from me and Humanling actually named her months ago), I am going hiking and to Borders.

So I went out to breakfast and used the outdoor seating, with a view of fading flowers, my hot coffee cup warming my hands. I read, ate and gloriously sipped my coffee. After all, I had all day.
I said I was going hiking. Alone. That meant I had to now. Silly me, a small framed female, hiking alone. But I did it anyway. My intuition has been telling me that I need to be still and sit outside in meditation. And its been saying that for awhile. That's all possible but Humanling hones in on the exact moment that I crave silence and decides to share with me every possible word, letter, thought, dream, Christmas list and bodily function that she can think of. And I'm glad. It's her job. She should be manager by now.

Don't get me wrong, I Double Heart my job as parent. It's the best thing that I do. And even though its for a lifetime, I only get so many untainted moments before friends, boyfriends and gangsters take over and move me to the back of the family portrait. Right now, I am IT. So pass me the relish.

Making tracks. I arrived at the park. I've been going here for over fifteen years. My second failed marriage took place here. Drunk nights of falling asleep on the grass with snacks and a roll of toliet paper nearby may have happened here. Along with a couple of Discovery Channel You and Me Baby Ain't Nothing But Mammals moments.

It's safe then, right? This place knows me enough, right?

So I arrived. Time to crunch through.

This is the kind of day it was - look at the sky. Gorgeous.

Just kidding. That's my backyard.

No it's not.

Then I saw one of these. I hadn't seen this in a LONG time. And ended up seeing four of them.

Who wouldn't turn five in a flash?! I HAD to pet it.

And immediately caused anguish and anxiety and the need to play dead. It curled up and refused to move. Like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree, I nearly killed it with my Walmart grade Midas touch.

You can't hike without a good pair of rock gripping hiking boots.

So apparently I will be going shopping to get some. Because I feel like Peg Bundy tottering around in the woods in these. And yes, I have big feet. Size eight.

I got to sit around, near the water....trying to live up to that l'artiste image is tough when you work for The Man. Tilt Head, summon the wind, deep breath......too effing awesome.

Further in is a tree you can lie down on since its tilted down toward the water. Laying on the tree, I took this shot.

Observe....for more than a few moments I put away one of my Top Three fears - a bird crapping on my head - and took a rest while looking up at the view.

Another one of my friends at work, who will need a new filter between her brain and her mouth for her next birthday, exclaimed "Be careful of bears!"

I've never thought about bears in all my years of hiking there.

Until I was deep enough in the woods today. Because surely if they are in her backyard (she just had to fill me in on that), they are on this planet and in these woods that I am alone in. I thought about the chocolate coconut health bar that was recommended to me by the doctor's staff at my naturopath's office yesterday. I had one on me. I started thinking what I would do if I saw a bear. In desperation throw a health food bar at it. Which it would swallow while chasing me.

I couldn't stop thinking about this bear that would be around the next corner. The Law of Attraction heard me. It heard the gears starting to turn. And responded with a warning. Keep thinking about it and the next thing Will be a bear.

I don't know if you can see it but I am smushing his head with my fingers. And I am not dragging a body on the right side - that's my Trader Joe's bag filled with one dangerous to bears health food bar and five books.

Speaking of not seeing the forest for the trees....I then didn't see the forest OR the trees because I was busy running like prey past the snake and for about a full minute beyond....all while checking the ground for more snakes hidden under leaves, and bears that were going to hop down from the pine trees and maul me.

In fact, by the time I got to my car, I was convinced that a bear would be sitting in the backseat and would strangle me with a non poisonous snake. The irony, dying from a non poisonous snake.

From there it was on to Borders to just sit with another cup of hot coffee with a dash of hazelnut, vanilla powder, cinnamon & cream. And five library books. And a whole section of manga.

For three hours.

Today was perfect. When I wasn't in fear of bears, snakes or my own judgement call for being deep in the woods.

Kermit's Got Nothing on These Greens

Ever since August, I've been stoked on greens.

Growing up, there were some greens - stuff that I hated. Peppers (a hell shell stuffed with rice), green beans (usually accompanied by a can opener) and iceberg lettuce.

My mom isn't horrible. Much. Except that she kept me from my love affair with beets. And denies it.

I took out this book from the library (borrowing saves money and reduces waste. And if you like it that much after reading it, then buy it used from Amazon.) It's called Greens, Glorious Greens and I'll be damned if I've made one recipe from this book. I even shamelessy renewed it for another three weeks.

However! This book has been a complete primer for a Greens Ignoramus like myself. It gives a short chapter on various greens (Chard, Bok Choy, Mustard Greens, Cabbage, Dandelion Greens, etc) mentioning what to look for, how to store it, what parts you eat and then gives recipes on what the heck you do with it.

I'm in love. I will be buying this one eventually - used of course, someone else's grease splatterings and spighetti sauce sprinkling the pages.

This summer I have successfully incorporated chard and kale into our weekly meals. Two days ago I went brave. I bought the one green in the book that was not a success for the authors. They openly admitted that there isn't much to do with this one.

Given my past relationships with men and how they could benefit from my love and attempt at makeovers, I had to try it.

Mustard Greens have entered our lives. And it's not so bad. That's probably because they tried to warn me. It was rather anti-climatic (like all the hype surrounding There's Something About Mary - all for the Load Glazed Hair shot) in that it wasn't nearly as intense as the book said.

Of course if you sautee a pair of socks with shallots and garlic, they probably won't taste that bad either.

Before we were eating the greens on a daily basis, I had symptoms of tingling a lot. Particularly in my legs and one big toe and sometimes my arms. After eating them nearly daily, the tingles dumped me. I don't know what I was missing, but clearly, the greens helped.

I love flipping through the various chapters and choosing the next vegetable that will be adored, washed, chopped and then sauteed.

Sorry folks. That's about as adventurous as I get. Or will admit to on this blog at the moment.

Tonight, I am making rice balls. (I'll pause for those of you who need to smirk).

If you chop up the vegetables tiny enough, mix them with the rice, coat with flour (gluten free in our case) and fry up! A fabulous way to sneak in the veggies.

Speaking of. I'm burning the balls. Time to go gently maneuver them.

Even Though I Might Be the Only One Who Cares...

I had a FABULOUS day so far today. I am off work, the kid is in school/Girl Scouts/wandering around town looking for a familar face.

More posting on the fabulous day later.

I know this is going to seem really trivial.

I was driving home from Borders (Heaven) and suddenly saw in the other lane, a freshly hit squirrel. It happens. All the time.

This one was trying like hell to get away from the road. But it couldn't. It's head was smashed and stuck to the road. It was trying though. It's back legs were pushing to move the rest of the body in a frenzy. But it wasn't happening.

My soul was bruised. No crying, no screaming, just a very black spot dotted and spread like grease on a paper towel. Perhaps this is my drama spot. I'm usually devoid of the D word. I can't stand mine or anyone else's.

All I could think of .... how horrible must that be. To lie there in fear when the morning started off in darting around for sustenance to put away for another day. I wonder which animal will find his stash.

What could I have done? Stopped the car and pushed him out of the road with a stick? He would have been hit before I could park. Another car was already on its way as I passed.

I am usually quite an observant driver. The left front panel on my car suggests something entirely different but when it comes to animals and not cement poles, I try very hard to keep my reflexes alert and speed under control.

Especially after the time in my early 20s when I cruised through a red light and was pulled over. The officer needed a reason as to why I did it.

Because if I tried to stop I would have skidded through it.

That was not a good defense, as I was to learn 4 seconds later because In THAT case, the officer pointed out that I was speeding as well.

What am I trying to say here without being offensive? Let's try not to put other beings in misery. (To which some people will say, FABULOUS! Completely run it over and kill it instead of a partial death!). I don't really know how to avoid these things. I can say that really, I've hit only one animal since 1987 and couldn't find it on the road upon pulling over. I'm guessing it ran away.

Oh and there was a deer who jumped out of the woods into my car once but I was in traffic so only going about 10 mph. And I have a Saturn. He left no dents.

So for the sake of not having that particular burned image of living hell in your mind (unless you have your own, I know I'm not the only one), or having your children see it out of the car window...get your pilot's permit. Or just drive mindfully.

Seriously though. It sucked.

Dis Ain't No Effing Bee Movie BeeBuzz-otch!

It's such a beautiful fall day. Inspriational! The hue of Almost Rain contrasted the trees to look even more on fire than they could have. It's one of those autumn days where the sky lets the yellowing confetti down continuously.

I swear I'm going to catch one. But as I was walking out of work, laden with two bags and a computer bag, I thought my clumsy slow motion dash to catch leaves might be in vain.

I leave work in time to get home and catch my Humanling off the bus daily. Then I hop back into virtual reality and keep moving the dollar signs around. It's an accidental life calling, but it works wonders for my work/home life balancing and I'm flying my Pharma flag high.

Is it in line with my morals and beliefs? Yes and No. No because I don't eat anything that craps. We eat eggs. A chicken's wasted menses. If it were fertilized, then I'd have issues. Because I do kill croissants. And usually there is an egg and slice of cheese present. We don't eat animals and for anyone who says "I'm vegetarian! I eat fish (or poultry)" No you're not. Take your gang colors off and turn them in for whatever it is that the other team has.

It is a pharmaceutical company. I don't keep track of what we test on or how its done. My function is to do financials for other things that aren't directly related to it. So I'm going to guess that if I knew what goes on, it'd be a No on the moral front.

However, taking care of the little being that we chose to pass through the veil onto this planet....that's a yes. Admittingly, whenever the food bill is higher at the register, I look at Humanling and then back to the cashier with resignation and say "If I only knew you had to feed them...."

It's either that or look directly at Humanling with "Why did you let me spend so much?"

Poor kid. But she is a Capricorn. She can handle a lot. And don't feel bad for her. She's learning how to dish it as she already has quite the refined innate quality. If it weren't for her, most of these posts would be gone. I'd be a poser poster.

....I digress.....

The Bee.

So I'm driving home to get the Through the Veiled Humanling off the bus. Wow, I can't believe how gorgeous it is. One of those days where I actively remember that I'm in New England and treasure it.

A song comes on....and I'm singing and happy to be breathing, driving, seeing with my eyes..."Because when I arrive....I bring the fire....make you come alive...I can take you higher..." awwww yeah. I shift. I look down for a second....look back real quick...something is flagging out of my range of Normalcy. Something on my gloved hand, its alive and its big Enough....

I go from singing and chair dancing to a startled shriek.

The mind races...First Things First...GET IT OFF then figure out what it was.

One deft movement, hand off stick, sharp wrist flick, and the invading item is thrown. Look back at the road to make sure I won't ruin anyone's impending Halloween and then quickly over to my right to survey any seasonal to the moment decor.

A yellowjacket.

These guys are fine for whatever biological reason that we share the earth. But they aren't here to make friends. And I'm not into knowing the voice on the other line of my car insurance.

I have a strict Don't Kill It rule. Unless its a mosquito on your body. Don't come to my house without knowing that there will be a possibility of helping to trap and carry a wasp/mouse/spider/centipede out the door, preserving as many of its legs and breaths as possible.

Do centipedes even have lungs?

As I drive I have now become Turbo Tourette's, turning my head swiftly to the yellowjacket and back to the road back to the stinger, back to the road.

The little guy apparently is immune to wind. I opened the passenger window , big enough for a thousand of him to fly back out of. He decides that he likes the ride of a Saturn. Comfy, smooth, yet unpretentious.

Maybe he likes the ride and the music as much as I was. Maybe that's what lured him in to begin with.

But I already have a dead bee collection in the rear window. After getting home and parking, I ta ta'ed the little guy and opened the window as wide as I could, even with the threat of rain tapping me on the shoulder. I am hoping that if he trusted me with good ride & tunes, he will trust to follow my lead instead of turning himself in to the cemetary of the rear window . And get the hell out of my car.

The sharing only goes so far with the price of gas.

BTW - here is the pre-bee state of bliss tune.

Turn This Ship Around Matey! Wait, Don't Forget the Gameboy.

I'm up late. Just a little. It's 3am. All of you guys are sleeping. Or maybe just not in my eyeshot right now.

I spent some time out on the deck in my socks (wet much? Yes, but FULL MOON moisture!) playing my Gameboy. The consolation prize when the Turd Van Blossom left in Aug of 07.

It's the best damn thing anyone's ever pawned off on me. Getting married and buying a home and being dumped 2 months later was worth it because I HAVE THE GAMEBOY!!!

That brings me to the following post. One of my favorite bloggers, Ned/The Neighbor or as I am privledged to have christened him, Fireboy, just pretty much reached way deep into some of the What Makes Me Tick and wrote it all out. Not that he knew he was doing it. But he was speaking to the right audience in me.

So I'm going to share it with you guys.

Damn, the boy can write.


The American Nightmare?


America's got problems.

The problems seem to be economic, but they aren't. Not really. Instead, I think they're systemic and endemic to the American culture. This culture of accumulation.

I personally think our yardstick is seriously fubared. Our measure of success has everything to do with competition - with outdoing one another, constantly advancing our standards of living, extending ourselves beyond reason, pushing past our limits and striving for more more more. In some ways, this is really a very good thing. When applied to things like science and art, they advance our culture and our health. But altruism in America is mostly dead - it's cutthroat, me-before-you, gimme-gimme-gimme. It's 10,000 square foot houses and $250,000 cars. It's $50,000 watches and pants that cost a cool 3 grand. Shoes that top some folks monthly pay. We're striving to set ourselves apart from one another, to define ourselves by our access to the exclusive. And we're doing a pretty good job, really. But that's really the very basis of the problem - our yardstick. I'm pretty anti-advertising, in many ways. This has to be tongue-in-cheek because it's what puts food in my belly - just in the interests of full disclosure. Advertising has really served to deteriorate our culture in fundamental ways. I don't think anyone could really fathom how much money is used to convince us of various viewpoints, of the quality of various goods and services, of the indispensibility of things like coffee makers, bagless vacuum cleaners, dandruff shampoos, tiny bottles of exorbitently priced odors.

If you were to really buy into these ads, then every day you would wake up completely refreshed in a perfectly tidy home on gazillion threadcount perfectly pressed sheets with the whitest teeth ever seen, then slide your sculpted body into clothes that fit perfectly, eat a balanced breakfast of some cereal, a few eggs,a piece of organic, perfectly ripe fruit, and hand picked cruelty-free coffee, then get in your freshly washed and waxed performance sports car, where you would drive through a perfect day with your freshly-cut hair wafting artfully in the perfect spring/fall day down mountain roads that are deserted except for you. You'd arrive at your space-age office where everything would be working perfectly all the time, and your incredibly attractive personal assistant would hand you the paper, and you'd have time to read it. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Now, I can't speak for you good people, but I do things like poop, leave stubble in the sink, neglect to load the dishwasher, leave unfolded laundry lying around for a few hours . . . My sofa is faded and my rug has some kind of something embedded semi-permanently in it. Most of my jeans are a least a little frayed and don't fit exactly right. My hair rarely receives more attention than shampoo and a towel. My glasses are smudged almost constantly. I iron when required, and not my sheets.

So the dream is just that - a dream. But they make it all look SO good, don't they? That's the idea - your life could be like this if you just buy this car or hire these lawyers or chew this particular brand of gum. The very powerful underlying assumption is that your life isn't good enough as it is. It's more than an assumption - it's nearly an imperative - they really WANT you to indulge in envy, in greed. The whole premise of advertising is to create a wanting of sorts.

And that's become the core of America - wanting. We all want a big ass flatscreen, a shiny exotic car, bigger boobs, flatter stomachs, clothes that make us look like movie stars. I confess - I want this stuff too - it's worked on me to an extent. But I'm sometimes consumed with an anti-competitiveness. What about cooperation? I concede that the world's effort at communism have failed, because there's no motivation to really perform when everyone gets the same rewards. So the capitalism system has an upside. But it really bugs me sometimes. Is altruism dead? I mean, Bill Gates gives away tons and tons of money, but would he is he only made $50K a year?

It just seems to me that we're more intent on stepping on each other lately than helping each other out. There are recent examples in my personal life that prove this isn't true universally - Whaupwit treated me to dinner, and also a tank of gas this past week when the prospect of buying it myself was alarmingly prohibitive. So I know the world isn't all dour and bullshit. But it does feel like something is almost fundamentally wrong.

Open your mouth and give me some song

Did you ever catch a song? You know you have.

I love giving them. I give good song at work.

I'll start singing "I really can't staaaaayyyyyyyy.....I've got to go away....This evening has beeeeeen so very nice".

Give it a minute.

My co-worker starts to hum it. Then asks in an accusing tone if I was just singing it.

I love it.

Another favorite is "Ring My Bell" by Anita Ward.

But just now, I got songed.

I'm working at home today and the window is wide open. A car is stopped at the light and I hear a song that I used to love. I turned down Steve Mariboli on my computer (only for a moment Steve. I swear, it didn't mean anything and I thought of you the WHOLE time) to hear the song blaring out of the car and into my window.

So here it is.

Virtual Bullying

We've had this Spongebob game for about 2 years. It just plugs into the TV and the theme is Fry Cook Olympics.

Not that I've ever indulged in this type of Hand DDR, but.....if I did, I'm good at it. In fact, the guinea pig is pretty good at it.

Humanling was busy enjoying the game as I sat here working. Was Enjoying. Was.

Then the TV spat out a silent announcement that I've never seen before today.

Humanling won the Honorary Loser Award.

I don't know if anyone who follows this blog (and I'm sure when Organic reads this, she is going to completely back me up on this) knows exactly how sensitive Humanling really is.

After winning her You Suck award, she turned off the game and positioned herself into a crumpled heap on the floor and fell asleep.

But not before mumbling, "No one's ever called me a loser before."

Where is Nickelodeon to show the Other Side of childhood when I need them?

L'amour

I saw a really interesting cycle of love/life video on Fireboy's blog. It was really sort of beautiful and bittersweet in a gentle sense. It prompted me to post this one, that reduced me to a snorting, crying slacker in my wall-less cube at work.

Mean Girls - The Disney Princess Version

Imagine the expression on its face AFTER Humanling pounded it with a sharp rock, slammed it against bigger rocks, stomped on it with her shiny pink boots and then tossed it without a thought into the swamp amongst the cattails.

Wake up Mr. West Mr. West

We don't do Kidz Bop in this house. Or this car. Or with this parent.

Although tonight at Borders I was undermined by not having a good reason to say no and bought Humanling a book and kazoo set. After showing her a moment of basics in the parking lot, she caught on just enough.

Kanye West may never see his name on a Kidz Bop CD but he has been Kazooed.

Take this. Haters.

Are you gonna be awhile?

I had the joy of working from home today.

Someone gave my gluten free mini goddess a coupla saltines quite recently. Saltines = gluten.

Humanling was having a reactionary case of the Green Apple Nasties.

When I went into the bathroom, I found a new addition. The three inch thick 2008-09 Fairfield County Yellow Pages.

A little light reading for the call of Doodie.