Thursday, February 26, 2009

"Insourcing" is the new word

There’s an interesting article in the Washington Post this morning -- Home Economics of Anxious Times: Dyeing Your Hair in the Kitchen Sink. It caught my eye because I’m a confirmed color-at-home person. My cousin is a hairstylist and she used to cut my hair when I lived near her so I was always a bit spoiled with haircuts, but even back then I had no qualms about coloring my own hair. She would color it occasionally but most of the time if I saw a color I liked in the store or in a beauty supply shop I’d simply grab it and try it. My hair has been every color from plum to pumpkin. I’ll try just about anything, including highlights, streaks, lightening. You name it. I’ve never really had any disasters. If I don’t like the way something turns out I just color over it. No big deal as far as I’m concerned. I don’t do a lot of heat-damaging things to my hair so it stays in surprisingly good condition, despite all of the coloring.

At any rate, I clicked on the Post article and discovered that it was about the current “economic downtown.” That means recession or near-Depression to the rest of us. It’s about some of the ways people are economizing in the current economy. Apparently the new word is “insourcing.” That means that people are trying to do things for themselves, especially those expensive little luxuries that they were formerly paying others to do for them. More people are coloring their hair at home. They are buying sewing kits so they can do their own tailoring. They’re doing their own landscaping.

Within one week, Mary changed the bulb in the headlight of her Mercedes, cutting out a $120 trip to the mechanic. The couple made a cake for their 11-year-old daughter's birthday party instead of spending $50 at the local bakery. And Chris, who works in a management job, picked up some cans of paint from the Sears in Fair Oaks to help a friend redecorate -- seven hours of work but a savings of roughly $1,000.


Now, I don’t want to seem callous, but, Mercedes aside, these are things that I ordinarily do for myself anyway. When I have a headlight out, I change it. I bake my own birthday cakes for people. And I can’t usually afford to pay people to paint my rooms. Okay, if I need the outside of my house painted, I would probably call professionals, that’s true. I’ll grant you that. I’m not keen to get up on ladders.

I do pay someone to mow my yard. That’s mostly because a) if I depend on myself to do it I will procrastinate and my grass gets too high; and b) I break every mower I touch. But I do not pay my neighbor very much to mow my yard when he mows his at the same time. It’s not the $500 per month lawncare described in this article.

I don’t have a personal trainer to dismiss.

Wal-Mart said sales of herb gardens and tomato and pepper seeds are up, an indication that shoppers are trying to save money by growing their own food, spokeswoman Melissa O'Brien said. In Wal-Mart's auto department, sales of oil, filters, grease and funnels have also risen as more people opt to be their own mechanic.


I must hang out with very poor people because we have always done these things.

Brenda Waller, 42, of Herndon said her consulting firm has frozen salaries, and she's worried about the future. She has called off the lawn care service for the coming summer and asked the woman who does her nails to cut them extra short -- so the manicure will last longer. And no more pedicures. But she is holding on to DoodyCalls, a company that cleans up after her pets in the yard. Founder Jacob D'Aniello said his Charlottesville-based company grew by 21 percent last year.


Again, these things don’t seem to apply to me. I do my own manicures and pedicures -- GASP! And I pick up after my own dogs.

I almost left out the most interesting part of the article:

Underhill, the retail consultant, predicts consumers' newfound self-sufficiency will last even after the recession is a distant memory. "Americans have always taken some pride in doing things for themselves," he said.


I think that it used to be true that Americans were self-sufficient but not anymore. I think it's only a myth now, like the days of the Old West and Pioneer Spirit. Americans don't do that kind of thing now. We go shopping. We buy online. Have you taken a good look at American kids recently? They would rather stay inside and play games (sorry Matt) than go outside and do anything. Most people do seem to want everything to be done for them. I think when this financial mess is over they will go right back to the same lifestyle they were enjoying before it was so rudely interrupted.

I think all of this is my way of wondering if these economic bad times are truly affecting everyone in our country equally. I think, perhaps, it’s those who have benefited most from the big salaries, the housing boom, and the joyride on the stock market during the last decade who are feeling the fall now. The rest of us are surely being hurt by bank problems and credit drying up. Some industries may be losing jobs. But I don’t know if our daily standard of living is being impacted as much as some of our wealthier friends. In my business, freelance writing, I haven’t noticed any change at all. Nothing has changed for me. Unless, of course, I wanted to go to the bank and try to take out a loan. Then I suspect it might be much more difficult than it would have been a year or two ago.

My dad was born in 1907. For him the Great Depression was something that he lived through by trying to sell things door-to-door in order to support a wife and young son. That had to be incredibly difficult. It affected him for the rest of his life. When I was a child in the 1960s and ‘70s he would rant about turning the heat down in the house to save money and turning out lights in rooms when we weren’t using them. He kept our kitchen cabinets full of canned food, “just in case.” I think he was haunted by the feeling that you could lose everything and that you had to conserve what you had.

I grew up being influenced by my dad’s way of thinking. I won’t throw anything away. You never know when you might need it. I am loath to pay people to do things for me. Who knows how, or if, our current economic situation may affect people’s thinking in the future?

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Go Get 'Em, BlueDogState!

I love BlueDogState. For me there's nothing better than a Democrat that combines dogs and politics. :))

Single Again

I’m a little shy about posting again, lest Matt decide to riff on what I write. Very funny, Matt. I did enjoy the Sea Kitten photos.

I had a birthday over the weekend. That was weird. My ex took me out to dinner for my birthday. That was also weird. We began breaking up about a year ago -- breaking up can take a long time. In our case, I discovered he was cheating on me between Valentine’s Day and my birthday a week later. Oh, yeah. That was a great month. So, I kicked him out of the house, at least technically. He was staying with me while he was home from Iraq. So, I sent him wandering between his mom’s house and female acquaintances of varying degrees (ex-wives, old girlfriends, and probably the cheating ‘ho). I stayed mad for a while. Then I waited for an apology to come from him. Actually, I never got a good apology. There was never any satisfying contrition. That probably explains why we couldn’t put things back together.

I went through a phase where I wanted to forgive him and work things out. When you put five years into a relationship it’s hard to throw it all away without at least trying to save it. That’s when he started explaining that he was “dead” inside and didn’t feel anything for anyone. It’s hard to do anything with that kind of announcement. There’s just nowhere to go when somebody tells you they feel nothing for no one.

By this time he was back in Iraq and we were communicating sporadically. Occasionally I would blow up about something which was really probably about the end of the relationship in general and the way he was acting. We limped on this way for a few months trying to stay friends. He came home in the summer for a few days and we spent a little time together. Mostly this gave us a chance to talk in person. When he left we were on better terms than we had been for a while but we were not back together.

By autumn we were planning to take another trip to Mexico together. He had asked me to marry him the first time we took a trip to Mexico so it had some special significance for us. (Of course, I didn't know on the first trip that he would start trying to arrange an affair just a few days after he proposed to me.) His time in Iraq would be over and he had always planned to have some time to relax before coming home. I thought this would give us one last chance to see if we could work things out. We had a great time for 11 days. We always got along great when we were on vacation together. We ate great food, we enjoyed the water and beaches, we saw more Mayan sites, we did all kinds of fun things. We spent time alone together. But, when the trip was over, we came home and we have gone our separate ways. There's really nothing left there between us anymore. If we don't have something right in front of us that's interesting to talk about -- oh, like Mayan ruins or spending money to buy things -- I think we bore each other.

He lives about 30-45 minutes away but we never see each other. He called a lot when we first got back but we don’t talk much now. He’s dating the ‘ho. She lives near the property he bought.

When we do see each other, to have lunch or go to a movie, he tries to totally confuse everything and cross all kinds of relationship lines. He wants to act like we’re still together. I have to remind him that he’s dating somebody else now. I’m strange that way, I guess. I don’t like for things to be confused. We’re friends now. That’s it.

It’s only since we’ve been back from Mexico these last couple of months that I’ve begun to think of myself as single. I feel different. In my dreams I’m single now. There are actually other men in my dreams now instead of him. It’s nice. But, in waking life being single is also scary and lonely sometimes. I’ve been part of a couple for 5-6 years. You get in the habit of thinking differently about everything. It takes some adjustment to go back to thinking like a single person.

My test is what will happen if I die. Who’s going to bury me? LOL I know. It’s morbid. But if you’re a couple there is somebody to handle your funeral arrangements. If you’re single, what happens to you? I guess I’d better not die right now or who knows what would happen to me.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Change.

Life is all about change. I mean, if you're not moving forward, you're falling behind... or what's worse... you grow stagnant.
And, as of late, (especially professionally) I feel as though I am growing more and more stagnant by the day.
That's why I told them a few days ago that I was going to stay another month, then I am gone.
Now, this wasn't just a random decision that I wanted to quit my job. It's been in the works for a while now. And I didn't quit without a Plan B. I do have another job lined up. It just doesn't happen to start until the end of March.
They took it well, ummmm... as well as could be expected. I have personal ties that go back at least a decade with most of them. My boss says she thinks I am making a mistake, which she later clarified that the reason why I was making a mistake was because who would bring her chocolate and mountain dew?
I've reiterated several times that this is not a loyalty issue. I'm not even staying in the same line of work. If I were leaving for a competitor, well, yeah... it would be like me flipping the metaphorical bird at all of them. I'm just ready to pursue a different career angle... one with exponentially more job growth and opportunity. Something I could see myself in for a long while... and one where I won't feel the desperate need to shower immediately upon returning home. Wearing jeans to work is a plus, too.
So, wish me luck. Yes, I am a little scared to be doing something I have never done before... but the excitement of something new trumps the fear.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

I like PETA. It's like David Lynch for Kids.

I put a tiara and a dress and lipstick on a fish. On a PETA website. Today, I am complete.

In further response:




And some particularly cute sea kittens of note:








And the Sea Tiger, a close relative of the sea kitten.



So what can I do?

* According to this press release, PETA's Ashley Byrne is touring the country, giving talks to schools that serve Sea Kittens in the cafeteria. The number to call if you want to invite her to your neck of the woods is 757-622-7382.

* Add Sea Kittens to your friends list on Facebook! Let them know that they're simply adorable, and not in the slightest bit misjudged and creepy.

* Make your own Sea Kitten at the website.

* Eat vegetarian sushi. This has nothing to do with Sea Kittens, it is actually pretty tasty.

* Find as many places where the plight of these beautiful creatures will not be trivialized or WTF'd at (such as your college friends or internet forums) and make sure to spread the word.

* "Ask the U.S. Fish Sea Kitten and Wildlife Services to Stop Promoting the Hunting of Sea Kittens." And use THOSE EXACT WORDS. It says to on the website.

* Ask them if they have any recipes for Ikizukuri.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Why I Hate the Idea of Animal Rights

I usually try not to write about dogs on this blog since that’s what I get paid to do on the blog I write elsewhere. I know people get tired of hearing dog owners gush about their pets, too. I also know that I tend to rant about certain subjects -- subjects that people can have strong feelings about. For instance, I have purebred dogs. I know that there’s a strong movement in this country toward adopting pets and many people are under the impression that mutts make better pets. I can give you at least twenty reasons why that’s bull but I don’t really want to argue about it here. I will say that I worked with rescue for years and fostered dogs. Sometimes I adopted dogs that otherwise couldn’t find homes. I finally quit helping rescue when a dog that I kept for them attacked my own dogs and tried to bite a child. When I asked for help with her from the rescue group they told me it was my problem. I had enough at that point.

One of the things that’s going on here where I live is a push by the chairman of the local animal control commission to institute a mandatory spay/neuter law. Believe me, that’s gone over like a lead balloon. This is a rural area. It’s more than rural. It’s mountainous. There are a lot of hunters here who hunt bear, boar, fox, raccoons and other “critters.” They keep packs of dogs for hunting. Some hunters may have 40-50 dogs and take out more than a dozen a night for hunting. They take good care of their dogs but the dogs are intact. That means that they are not spayed or neutered. For good reason. Hunters choose the best dogs for breeding. They may occasionally trade dogs with other hunters. They may pass on pups to friends. Once in a while they may sell a dog or a puppy. They don’t want their dogs spayed and neutered.

So, this difference of opinion between the local animal control commission chairman and a few people on the commission and the hunters has been fought during commission meetings. The hunters and local breeders have been packing the meeting room to argue against the idea of MSN (mandatory spay/neutering). And the chairman just won’t let it die. She seems to be motivated by several local rescue groups who are strongly animal rights-oriented.

You should know that even the local animal control director has said that there hasn’t been any increase in stray dogs in the county. There has been an increase in owner turn-ins at the shelter in the last year, which has exactly zero to do with breeding or hunters. Spaying and neutering won’t make people keep their dogs if they want to give them up. Most of the time people turn in dogs to the shelter because of behavior problems or because they are moving or because of financial difficulties. None of these things has any connection to an animal’s sexual status.

The great majority of people on the animal control commission are also against MSN in the city/county but the chairman has set yet another subcommittee meeting for next month. MSN is clearly not something that is wanted by this community. Maybe this chairman will realize it sooner or later.

Unfortunately, the AR rescue people in the area are pushing things to a dangerous point right now. I spoke to one of the hunters yesterday and he told me that rescue people had been at the homes of some of the hunters trying to see into their kennels. He said that rescue people had approached hunters while they were out with their dogs and asked them if they wanted to get their dogs spayed and neutered. They have even been seen trying to lure hunting dogs with canned food so they could “rescue” them. Seriously, this is an area where hunters have guns. Somebody is going to get hurt if these people don’t back off.

I only have five dogs but I’m a breeder. I’ve been showing and breeding my dogs for a little over 20 years. I detest the idea of MSN. Not only does it fail to solve any problems and it has backfired everywhere it’s been tried, but I believe that it violates our rights. The government should not be able to force me to spay or neuter my pets. That should be a decision that is solely between me and my vet for the health of my dogs.

I’m also vehemently opposed to animal rights. I find that most people who support the idea of animal rights have very little true animal knowledge. They have not been raised with animals. They don’t know anything about farming or hunting. For them, all animals are pets and should live in the house and be cuddled. That’s fine if you have a cute little cat or dog as a pet. But the fact is that not everyone lives that way. I believe there are many ways of keeping animals and animals have many purposes besides being pets. We need animals on farms. Hunters deserve the right to continue hunting. People with real knowledge of animal husbandry don’t look at all animals as cute, cuddly pets and it’s a mistake for other people to try to force through laws that would demand all animals be treated that way.

Consider PETA’s latest campaign to rename fish as “sea kittens.” Have you ever heard anything so stupid? What on earth is wrong with fishing? Why should we try to make fish warm and fuzzy? They aren’t. I don’t care what kind of social life they have. Fish have provided sustenance to humans for thousands of years and coming up with a silly new name for them isn’t going to change the fact that fishing is a part of our economy and many people depend on fish for food.

Most people don’t realize that the real agenda of the animal rights movement is to eliminate pet ownership altogether. It is “speciesist” in the extreme and would like to see either the elimination of humans from the earth or a “Back to Eden” lifestyle that would wipe out the majority of human life on earth so the animals could flourish. Animal rights values animal life more than human life. When people begin to realize that maybe they will stop supporting PETA and the Humane Society of the United States.

For quotes from animal rights leaders you can click here.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Another Facebook Victim

I have to report that I am the latest Facebook victim. LOL My best friend from college e-mailed me a couple of days ago and said that she had signed up and therefore, I had to sign up, too. It’s like a blood oath kind of thing, I think. So, I did. I succumbed without a struggle.

I have resisted Facebook and these other social networking sites since they came into existence because I’m basically a hermit. That’s the primary reason. But I also have this dread of seeing and meeting people I used to know. I never attend reunions -- not high school reunions, college reunions, or any other kind. I’m always certain that other people have become fabulously wealthy and successful and I haven’t.

That’s actually not true. I have a sneaking suspicion that every classmate who is now wealthy and successful probably goes home at night and drinks him/herself to sleep. Maybe they have marital problems or they’re about to lose their huge house. I know somewhere inside that what we see on the surface is not the true story. But when you go to reunions you see people laughing and being happy. They look successful. They look like their lives are wonderful. They drive great cars and they look slim. So, I feel like going to reunions would make me feel bad about myself, even if I know that it’s all phony.

That’s why I have resisted joining sites like Facebook. They seem like places where people put up pictures about their happy lives. But this time curiosity got the better of me. Or maybe I was just in the mood to say, “What the hell? I don’t care what they think.” So, I filled out the information. I put up a picture of myself and started adding current friends and old classmates to my friends list. I think I have seven or eight friends added now. That’s respectable for less than 24 hours, especially considering that I’m not letting everyone see my profile.

Of course I couldn’t resist seeing who else was on Facebook. I had to look up one special person -- the one that got away. I’ve looked all over the Internet to see if I could find this man. I thought I had tracked him down once but then he disappeared. Yes, he is on Facebook. I couldn’t believe it. I haven’t seen him in so many years but I recognized him at once in his picture. He has changed, certainly, but it is absolutely him.

Oh, no. I won’t be contacting him. I don’t have that kind of nerve.

I wonder if people look at me in my pictures, read my profile and think I sound happy and successful?

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Lily Allen and Drug Tests

For those of you who have been spurned, I present to you Ms. Lily Allen:

So tired. Drug test in the morning. Peace.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Post-Valentine's Day Blahs

Well, another exciting Valentine’s Day has come and gone. I guess that means that candy is half-price at the drugstore today so if you’re feeling glum you can go stuff your face. :) I hope your Valentine’s Day was better than mine. This was my first official single Valentine’s Day (notice that the shorthand for Valentine’s Day is VD?) in six or seven years. I have been alone on some of those days but it was because my intended was working outside the country. This year I had no comforting excuse. I was just alone. No flowers or candy showed up at the door. I had to go buy my own brownies to get a chocolate-induced high.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d mention an interesting story I saw online the other day: Kisses unleash chemicals that ease stress levels

"Chemistry look what you've done to me," Donna Summer crooned in Science of Love, and so, it seems, she was right. Just in time for Valentine's Day, a panel of scientists examined the mystery of what happens when hearts throb and lips lock. Kissing, it turns out, unleashes chemicals that ease stress hormones in both sexes and encourage bonding in men, though not so much in women....

In an experiment, Hill explained, pairs of heterosexual college students who kissed for 15 minutes while listening to music experienced significant changes in their levels of the chemicals oxytocin, which affects pair bonding, and cortisol, which is associated with stress. Their blood and saliva levels of the chemicals were compared before and after the kiss.

Both men and women had a decline in cortisol after smooching, an indication their stress levels declined.

For men, oxytocin levels increased, indicating more interest in bonding, while oxytocin levels went down in women. "This was a surprise," Hill said.

In a test group that merely held hands, chemical changes were similar, but much less pronounced, she said.


Cool. So, kissing leads to men being more interested in bonding? I never would have guessed that. From my experience, I have always thought that women were more interested in kissing than men were. With a couple of rare exceptions, most men seem to me to act like kissing is a toll both and they have to rush through it to get somewhere fast.

That was kind of one of my complaints with my recent ex. He started off being very romantic and the kissing was good. But it wasn’t long before the kissing went out the window. There was still lots of sex, but I like more than that. I like some personal attention. I like romance. I like KISSING. By the end I couldn’t even get him to hold hands anymore. I think you really can judge the state of a relationship by little things like that. It shouldn’t all be about sex. There’s a lot more to intimacy than just that. But it’s hard to communicate that information to someone who’s not getting what you’re talking about.

There’s such a fine line when you talk to someone about personal things. You don’t want to tell them, “Hey! I don’t like what you’re doing!” Because, obviously, you care about them. But you want to have your own needs met, too. It’s not easy.

Clearly I have post-Valentine’s Day blahs. Maybe Somewhere In Time will be on TV again today and I can eat some more brownies to cheer myself up.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

A part of something.

I'm sure that most everyone in the world feels left out at times, and those of you who have, know that it's one of the worst feelings in the world.
With that said, with the majority of society it's simply a temporary problem; isolated incidents. However, in another group, we have the people who constantly and consistently feel left out of everything. Some would term them as loners. Others would term them as rejects. And perhaps, just perhaps, in several instances both terms are applicable.
It doesn't make it any easier.
And no, this isn't a sob story cry-fest concerning Valentine's Day. It's 1:16 AM the day after. Forget it. It's a stupid over-commercialized holiday. And that's not a bitter diatribe... it just is what it is.
On occasion, I think I've found someone who actually is sensitive enough to comprehend where I am coming from. Someone who knows where I've been, knows where I am, and knows that I have no damn idea where I'm headed. And for a while, I won't feel so alone anymore. But, as with everything else that's good in my life, it simply fades to oblivion.
Which brings me to an interesting point in my past, and part of what has created my current persona in the present, and will probably continue to affect me (even it is just on a subconscious level) in the future. My fascination with the television show "Sailor Moon."
Most people just see the animated teenage girls in the way-too-short mini-skirts, cheesy seventies-esque background music, and the over-dramatized "fight scenes."
But I saw something completely different.
I saw five human beings. All completely different. One quiet and nerdy. One hyperactive and bubbly. One physically strong yet extremely domesticated. One with a fiery temper but fiercely loyal and protective. And one who saw good in everyone, except in herself.
And I saw these five individuals understand the differences that made them stronger as a team.
And I saw them be there for each other. Fight for each other. Love each other.
And I was jealous, yet drawn.
I wanted to be a part of a team like that. To feel like I belong to something.
And so, that leaves me... kind of lost.
There was this song in middle school, one that I (to this day) have sworn I would never like. Especially from this particular group. But I remember crying myself to sleep with this song on repeat, because it echoed so well how I felt then, and continue to feel to this day.

weird - hanson
"Sitting on the side waiting for a sign, hoping that my luck will change.
Reaching for a hand that can understand, someone who feels the same.
When you live in a cookie cutter world being different is a sin.
So you don't stand out. And you don't fit in. Weird."
I remember crying to that song in the shower, whilst washing the blood off of me after I was beaten moderately because I was different.
I remember weeping to that song the night two of my friends disowned me for being different.
I remember screaming along with that song the many nights I felt isolated by those closest to me, for being different.
If you've never read "The Perks of Being a Wallflower," do so. You'll understand exactly what I am talking about.
I'm 26 now.
I was 13 then, at the start.
Half of my life.
You'd have thought something would have changed.
And that's all I have to say for now.

Work-related bitching

I’ve mentioned before that I’m a writer. I do a lot of my work through online freelance web sites. That means that I am constantly looking for new work -- it’s the downside to being a freelancer. You control the work you take, which people you will work for, and you control your time but you are always looking for new jobs. Personally, I love the variety of being a freelancer. I work on jobs for a few days or a few weeks and then I have a great sense of completion. I get paid. And I can move on to something else. It’s great.

I also love the fact that I can work at home. I always hated working in an office. I used to get up every morning, do my hair and make-up, dress up, put on heels, drive to work and mostly be miserable all day. I would get panic attacks when the phone on my desk rang -- and it seemed to ring all the time. I had bosses who seemed to time the minutes an employ left their desk for a break. I did it for years, until I couldn’t take it any more.

The thing is, I did basically the same kind of work then that I do now. I was a writer. I got paid more. I had great benefits. But I was deeply unhappy. Now I make less money and I have to take care of my own benefits, but I am very happy with my working conditions.

The only times I get a little concerned are when the work temporarily dries up for a while, and that does happen. I haven’t noticed much effect from the bad economy yet, but my bids for jobs are turned down sometimes, or there is a long lag time between when someone advertises for a job and when they award it. At other times I may have 2-3 jobs going at once. So, you have to learn to ration out your money.

The other thing that gets me worked up sometimes are people’s expectations when they put a job online. Some of them make me laugh. They want writers to work for nothing. They all promise long-term relationships and expect writers to work for almost pennies per article. One buyer recently posted a job wanting 100 articles per day (500 words each) and would pay $1 per article that he selected. He would only pay for the articles that he chose. You would simply be out of luck on the others. That was outrageous. I don’t even think it’s humanly possible to write that many articles in a day. Amazingly he did receive a couple of job bids over the course of 2-3 weeks, though I don’t know if they accepted his terms. They would be crazy if they did. That’s far below the average rate of pay.

I look at a lot of possible jobs everyday and one of the things I see that always makes me roll my eyes is when a buyer writes that they are looking for a professional and that the work must be grammatically correct with no spelling errors. Hello! We’re all professionals here. Just because you can’t write or spell doesn’t mean that we can’t. Quit wasting our time and tell us what you need. And don’t just say that you are looking for an article writer. We know that. Tell us the subject. If you need 20 articles on the banking industry I won’t waste my time bidding. It would take me hours to research that subject. On the other hand, if you need 20 articles on dogs or travel or something else I know about, then I may bid. The subject can make all the difference.

I do love freelancing. I like to be able to pick and choose who I will work for. If I read a description for a job and the buyer sounds like an ass I have the luxury of just moving along. I can skip it and find something I like better. I find that it eliminates a lot of stress in life to avoid asses. I tend to avoid buyers who use words like “demand” and “insist” or phrases like “won’t tolerate” in their ads. The way I look at it, they’re paying me xx amount of dollars per article. I do good work and meet my deadlines. Either I’m respected or there’s no job. I’ve only quit a job once and that was when the buyer started moving up deadlines on me, wanting material days and weeks ahead of schedule. I would quit that job again under the same circumstances.

That’s what I do for a living. Not all of my writing is for online buyers. I write for magazines, too. They pay much better but it’s nice to have the regular online work.

I always wanted to be a writer when I was growing up but I never imagined that I would be living such a precarious life. I thought you had to have a regular paycheck and work in an office. I like security. For a long time I resisted the idea of being a freelancer because it is up and down in terms of earning a living. Fortunately the Internet has made it much easier to work at home now. Of course, it would be nice to have a huge stash of money in a savings account. I should work on that a little more.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Looking for friends

I’ve been thinking about friends a lot lately. Actually, I was watching Desperate Housewives today and Lynette told Edie that if she wanted to be friends then she had to be a better friend to Susan. To whit, she said that she had to listen to her problems and pretend to care. Or something like that. It was kind of funny because Edie wasn’t even willing to go that far, but I’m digressing.

Desperate Housewives aside, it does seem that all over TV and the movies there are adults with lots of friends. In my experience, it’s not that easy to make friends once you are out of school. When you’re in school you’re going to classes with people, you have a lot in common, you may be living on campus with them or at least seeing the same people for hours a day. It’s easy to have things to talk about and natural to spend your leisure time together. And you HAVE leisure time. Once you’re out of school you don’t have nearly as much time to do fun things with friends. It’s all drudgery. LOL Okay, maybe it’s not all drudgery, but it’s not all parties any more either.

It seems to me that it becomes a lot more difficult to make friends after you’re out of school. I can probably count on one hand the number of good friends I’ve made since I left college and some of them are strictly Internet people.

Isn’t that a strange phenomenon? To have Internet friends? By which I mean people that you may never have met in person. I have a couple of friends like that. I’ve even entered into business relationships with one of them.

I really don’t have many friends where I live now. I still have a lot of old friends. I keep up with my best friend from college. I stay in touch with my best friends from one old job -- they were great friends. I stay in touch with a couple of other people. That’s about it. But it’s not as easy to talk to friends, even old friends, about things as it used to be. We all have our own lives and worries and concerns. Even if I call up and ask them what’s going on they don’t usually dig down deep and tell me their innermost thoughts. I may send them an e-mail to tell them what’s happening with me but no one has the time to devote to friends now that they did before they were married and had kids.

I figure that most people have the same basic concerns: love problems, money worries, family squabbles, and self-doubts (“Why don’t people like me?” Why am I so ugly?” “Am I going to Hell?” “What’s wrong with me?”). There are other things that come out of nowhere -- the car accident, the tornado, a death in the family. But most of the time I think people go along worrying about similar things. It’s so good to have friends to talk to about these things. It’s just hard to find friends and develop friendships once you’re living the kind of life where you have to work everyday and you don’t see your old friends very often.

I know what all the common wisdom says -- that you’re supposed to go out, get involved and meet people. But that’s like telling people to go out and start dating. It’s always easy to tell people those things if it’s not you that has to do it. Of course you can make friends when you meet people but, contrary to what popular television says, I have a theory that most people you meet in the grocery store aren’t there to make friends or find dates.

So, how do you make new friends in the real world? Friends that are real, flesh and blood people, not Internet friends. I’d love to find out.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Stupid Birds

When my brother Daniel and I were kids, we could talk to birds. Well, not just any birds—we could talk to one specific bird. His name was Scarlet, and he was a robin who lived in our yard. All the robins around our house looked the same, of course, but we could always tell him apart: he was the one who would talk back to us. He was also whichever one was conveniently closest to the part of the yard we were playing in, but that made sense, because we were good conversation. He was just relieved to finally have someone to talk to whose every thought didn’t include eating bugs.

The secret to talking to birds is so simple that most people miss it. I had the revelation, one day, while desperately wishing I could make friends with one: all you had to do, I realized, was chirp in the same number of syllables as the word you were trying to say! It was a moment Archimedes would have been proud of, and I immediately shared my newfound knowledge with my younger brother, who went along with damn near anything I did (including, in one infamous incident, dressing him up as a woman and making him play dead on the couch while I told stories about the dead lady he was pretending to be. This apparently gave him nightmares). After that, we spent hours standing out in the yard staring intently at birds and chirping out messages. The only problem was that we couldn’t ever really tell what they were saying back; it is surprisingly difficult to distinguish syllables within bird noises. We’d kind of fudge it and I’d make something up, but this frustrated me, because I knew it wasn’t accurate, and I’ve always been a little uptight about that sort of thing.

As any reality show knows, when the absurdity factor is too high, you balance it out by adding in more drama. Which is how it came to be that we decided Scarlet had a girlfriend named Rosie. From then on, the possibilities were endless: we could talk to one or both birds, or we could speculate about why only one of them was around. We’d also try to get close enough to touch them, but of course that never happened. This frustrated me too, because it undermined the entire premise of the game, which was that these birds were our friends. If they were our friends, then why didn’t they trust us enough to let us get close to them?

My frustration with birds not allowing me to grab them was nothing new. My mother loves to tell the story of when I was four or five, and had gone out in the yard to try to catch some. I came back in disappointed, and expressed that I couldn’t understand why they kept flying away.

“Honey, they’re scared of you,” my mother told me gently.
That pissed me off. I opened the back door and shouted out into the trees, “STUPID BIRDS! I’M NICE!!”

As all of my friends and any guy I’ve ever dated can tell you, this has actually been a lifelong conflict of mine. To this day, I watch the fat little birds hopping around under my car in a parking lot and get the urge to dive under there after them. I can spend ages standing at our kitchen window watching the birdfeeder. My friends find this amusing and bizarre, and rather than trying to talk sense into me about it, several have taken to joining me. “I want it!” I’ll say, pointing at a nearby bird. “Let’s get it!” they’ll shout, and actually attempt to help me corner it, despite the fact that it’s a total cheater and can fly.

I’m not sure what I would actually do with one if I caught it, though, which is perhaps why I resist other people’s attempts to buy me birds at the pet store. The allure of a wild bird is that it is free to go anywhere at any time. It’s small and quick and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Birds do not need us and do not consult us, and have adapted to live in every part of the world. I suppose I admire that spirit of survival and envy that kind of freedom, and keeping them captive in my house would border on spite. So until the day I actually figure out how to communicate to those stupid birds that I am nice, I’ll have to content myself with watching them chirp and squabble, splash in puddles and carry twigs—wholly beyond my grasp.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Westminster and other dog matters

Ah, I’m tired. I’ve been up all night working on dog legislation things. But I had to write something about Stump. Did you get to see the Westminster KC show tonight? What a great story! Little Stump, a Sussex Spaniel, is 10 years old. He’s been retired since 2004. Five days ago his handler decides it would be nice to bring him out of retirement and show him at Westminster one more time. So the short, slow little guy parades around the ring tonight and wins the Sporting Group. I was amazed. Then he goes on to win Best In Show. Absolutely incredible. He’s the oldest dog to ever win the show.



For those of you doing the math, Stump is about 70 in dog years. LOL So he’s an old man. I don’t know if he will be out doing all of the dog publicity and charity work that last year’s winner, the popular Beagle Uno was able to do. Uno was only 2-3 years old and very active. They may have to make some allowances for Stump’s age.

The show is fun to watch. I often watch the dog shows on TV but I usually only watch the Sporting Group since I have English Setters. The Westminster show is one of the rare times when I will watch a show from beginning to end and really look at all the dogs. Even after all these years in dogs I’m embarrassed to admit that I can look at some breeds and not know what I’m supposed to be looking for. I don’t know how they’re supposed to move or whether I’m looking at a good example of the breed or not. Some whole groups are a mystery to me. I can watch the Sporting Group and pick out the best dogs but if you tell me to find the best dogs in the Toy Group I would have a hard time. I don’t know what a lot of those dogs are supposed to look like under their hair. I don’t know how they’re supposed to move or even how a judge can tell when they have hair to the floor. That’s why you can't use the same criteria to judge one breed with another. You can’t really compare a Golden Retriever to a Pug. You just don’t have enough points of comparison. So when judges are judging dogs they have to know the breed standard for each breed. They are mentally comparing a Golden Retriever to the description given for the ideal Golden Retriever, and the same with the Pug and their breed standard.

Of course, it’s not enough to just memorize breed standards. You have to have actual experience with dogs in a breed to understand how all the parts fit together and everything works. It’s a lengthy process to become a dog show judge, especially when you’re just starting out. You have to have been a breeder or handler for so many years and have bred, I think, at least four champions in ten years. Then you are also required to work with a mentor in the breed you’re applying to become a judge in. You have to pass written and hands-on judging tests. You have to do some practice judging at “matches” which are like practice shows for puppies and less experienced dogs. Some judges only pick up that one breed to judge, usually their own breed. Other judges study and add more breeds, then a whole Group. A few judges become qualified to judge all breeds and Best In Show. That achievement represents a lot of dog knowledge. That’s how you end up with judges who have been in dogs for 50 years or more. It takes a long time to work your way up to that level.

Me? I’m happy showing and breeding my dogs. I can’t think of a higher calling than trying to improve each generation or breed the healthiest, happiest, best puppies humanly possible. I don’t breed very often since my dogs live in the house with me and they’re family members, but I am dedicated to it.

Monday, February 9, 2009

The Kitchen

You know, I once heard or read something to the effect that in your dreams your house represents your sense of self. If there’s a house in your dreams, that’s how you view yourself. If the house is grand and beautiful you’re probably feeling good about yourself. If the house is run down and dilapidated maybe your self-esteem isn’t so good. And so on. If your house is swept away by a flood . . . you get the picture. So, I was walking around my kitchen tonight noticing that it was an organized mess. There are “groupings” of things on the counter -- herbs and bottles of stuff in this corner. A pile of magazines and books over in that corner. Um, some boxes and things on that counter. Some dishes that I keep washing and reusing next to the sink. Vitamin bottles for the dogs piled up on the microwave (probably not a good place for them). Oh, and just lots of other stuff. And it occurred to me that if my house represents my sense of self that I’m probably in a lot of trouble. What in the world does my house say about my brain??? Is my mind as cluttered as my kitchen? Do I have as much useless stuff in my head as I do on my counters? And, I wonder if there are expiration dates on the things in my head?

I may be cluttered but I am a good cook. It’s one of my saving graces. It’s nice the way that works out -- that even though we have failings we also have positive qualities. Assuming I can find things in my kitchen I can actually prepare good meals. I also like to be creative and adventurous when I cook. So much so that sometimes people are afraid to eat what I cook. Not because it’s not good or it doesn’t turn out well but because I don’t like to tell them what’s in the food I cook. I don’t like to tell people what I put in food because I like for them to try it first and then tell me if they like it. I don’t like to prejudice them by telling them what’s in it. But then they get the wrong impression and assume that I put something terrible in it and they don’t want to eat it. Just because I tend to not follow recipes they think I do odd things to food. Sometimes I do follow recipes, at least the first time I make something, but I think food usually tastes better when I follow my own hunches about it. Or, what I really prefer to do is read several recipes for making something and take little bits from each of them. For instance, if I’m going to make an apple pie I might read a dozen recipes. None of them will be exactly alike. So I may try making the pie a couple of different ways to see what I like. Then I may try coming up with my own recipe for it by combining some of the recipes. I usually end up with something that is much better than I started with. But I don’t want to tell anyone exactly what I’ve done. I want them to eat some of the pie and tell me what they think about it. Unfortunately, that seems to make them suspicious. I can’t win. Who wants to give away their cooking secrets? I don’t.

Okay. In the interest of full disclosure, sometimes I do put odd things in food. I sometimes think unusual things go together that other people may not think of. I have put bananas in chocolate cakes. I have put mayonnaise in chocolate cakes. And they were both tremendous successes. I put apples in quiches. I once made chocolate brownies with raspberry filling and hazelnuts -- which to me sounded like it should go together. Admittedly, I don’t like raspberries or hazelnuts, but all the recipes I read made it sound like those flavors would work together. And the person I made the brownies for liked all those things. But when I gave him the brownies (and told him what was in them), he wouldn’t eat them. He ended up feeding them to a dog when I wasn’t around. I still think those brownies should work. I think he was being irrational.

I like making bread, too, but it’s something I have to be in the mood to do. It’s kind of an all-day procedure. I don’t use a bread machine -- what’s the point of that? The fun part of making bread is all the beating and kneading. You can get your angers and frustrations out when you beat up the dough.

Even though I spend the majority of my time working at the computer I think the kitchen is probably the heart and soul of my home. It feels right that it should be that way, sort of a connection with generations before. I’m a sucker for the whole home and hearth life.

My would-be self

Okay, so everyone knows what an anime freak I am.
It's not really a secret.
But there's one particular anime that resonates with me. It's called Shugo Chara. (Literally translated: Guardian Character/Spirit.)
The basic premise is this. Everyone has a Shugo Chara, and it represents the things you wish to be, but quite simply, aren't. They show what you could be, or your "would-be self."

The story follows a girl named Amu, who has absolutely no idea who she wants to be. Because she's shy, most people see her as a silent "rebel," and gawk at her from a distance. But, deep down she knows she isn't the cool and collected person everyone sees.
Enter her Shugo Charas.
She finds three eggs in her bed one morning... (and having more than one Shugo Chara is extremely rare...) And they hatch into full-fledged Shugo Charas within hours...
First, there's Ran, a tiny pink spirit, who represents her wish to be more athletic and outgoing. Miki, the blue Chara, represents her wish to be more level-headed and artistic. Lastly, Suu, the green Chara, shows her wish to be more caring and domesticated.
It really is an interesting concept, and it got me to thinking....
If I had a Shugo Chara, what would it be like?
I guess we will never know.

Near-Death-Experiences

I love fiction, TV programs and movies about the supernatural. So, I was interested yesterday when the Chiller network showed a series that I had missed the first time around called All Souls. They showed it from the pilot through all six episodes. It was very good. Too bad the show didn’t last longer.

The show takes place in a very haunted hospital. It made me think a little of the series Stephen King’s Kingdom, though I thought this series was much better. All of the episodes were interesting but I was left thinking about the last show in which someone more or less manipulates patients into having near-death-experiences -- and not very nice ones either. In fact, they’re quite hellish. In them they meet some kind of ancient entity who, loosely translated, is known as “Roger.” (It probably loses some of its fright in the translation.) I guess the reason I found it interesting -- aside from normal curiosity about near-death-experiences -- is that my dad had an experience on the operating table when he had a heart attack. I say “experience” because he did die but it wasn’t the kind of experience that people usually describe with a bright light and loved ones coming to meet you. When I was old enough to ask him about it he said that he saw nothing when he died. He said there was nothing. Just darkness. He was just dead.

Now, that’s kind of depressing. I don’t actually know if my dad was telling the truth or not. You should know that my dad was a very lapsed Catholic. By lapsed I mean that he hadn’t set foot in a Catholic church for 50 years, so that’s pretty lapsed. Getting him to go to any kind of church or participate in any kind of religious activity was like pulling teeth. He just went through the motions if you forced him. So, he may have been dealing with some guilt and other issues of his own when I asked him what he saw when he was dead. Who knows? Maybe he had one of those bad experiences you hear about. Maybe minions from hell came to try to take him away and he didn’t want to admit it. Or maybe he had a beautiful experience and he didn’t want to talk about it. Or, maybe he was telling the truth and there was nothing.

I guess I would feel better if my dad had told me he saw a beautiful light and felt like he was surrounded by love. But somehow thinking that there is nothing else when we die doesn’t come as such a surprise to me either. I think that this life could be all there is. I hope not. But it could be.

On the other hand, I am not eager to have a near-death-experience and find out for myself.

My dad said something else interesting to me not too long before he died. He said that he thought God was a God of Love. He didn’t believe that God could cast his children into hell or let them suffer for all eternity. That wouldn’t be something that a father would do. I think my dad was worried about where he was going to go after he died. I do think there’s love out there, somewhere. I hope it was there for him.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Password Verification Form

SO... I was reminded that i needed to post on here as a guest author/author. I remember signing up for this account a few days to a week ago. I did not previously have a gmail account and i had to create one (which only took about three minutes so it was fine).

I was going to do a quick post tonight about something that has been on my mind lately. I sat down at the computer about half an hour ago with the full intention to write the blog. And unfortunately i couldn't remember my password. I tried several of them, all to no avail. Then i recalled that gmail told me i had to have numbers and letters in my password and that it had to be a certain amount of characters long.

I tried a few combination and nothing was working. I eventually decided to give up attempting on my own and asking gmail for a bit of assistance. It was glad to help, and told me that the account in question didnt even exist... This throughly annoyed me. No wonder none of the passwords were working... lol

I opened a sixth tab, trying to figure it out... went to gmail.com and was automatically signed in and didnt even realise it. It was usi9ng my primary email account as the passcode, and not the gmail account i thought i had signed up for in the first damn place.

Now, to sign into the blogspot server. The password isnt working...

The second isnt working...

Nor the third...

Im on my second cigarette by now, and totally ignoring that my phone is telling me i have a text message wiating on the charger in the kitchen. I am beyond annoyed.

I had to have my password sent to me. Gmail doesnt do that anymore... It simply allows you to reset it. Which is always fun. Now i know it... and will more than likely forget it by the time this is even posted.

2 accounts....
3 cigs...
1 blog...
2 captchas...
almost 1 hour of my life.

all for this? is the enhanced security we have to deal with these days really worth the so called convience that the sites give to us?

i have to enter my log in ID... my passcode... and answer a security question every single time i want to check my bank account. Should logging into a blog really be as difficult? Does gmail have the gaul to think that they are that high up on the interweb foodchain? Is it a good thing? or maybe a bad?

You Tell Me.

Lync

Are modern gamers spoiled?

Lately, I've been hearing more and more reports/complaints by avid gamers that video games have just become too easy. This is the major complaint I have heard with the Wii (however, on a more personal note, I still find myself struggling to beat some of the more difficult levels of Super Mario Galaxy, and I'll be damned if my body can contort into some of those yoga positions that Wii Fit believes is humanly possible... however, I digress...)
I mean, yeah, Wii Sports and Wii Play are light an fluffy games that anyone can just pick up and play, and anything from the WarioWare series is an ADD-sufferers best friend... but I guess the best way to look at the present is by examining the past.
Here are a few games from my childhood:
Super Mario Bros., the original: Who doesn't have a friend that can run through this game within a matter of minutes without losing a life? (Here's looking at you, Kayla.) But by no means is this game easy, by any standard. Who didn't get lost in 8-4, having a timer of 400 fast-running seconds counting down against you, not knowing how to get to the friggin' final Bowser? Grr. Still makes me mad thinking about it.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Three letters can summarize this game: O. M. G. I can honestly say that I never EVER beat this game. It still boils my blood thinking about it. I mean, the four turtles, although you can play as any of them, and interchange them at any point, show no significant difference other than the length of their weapons. There may be some subtle differences that I am unaware of, but they weren't major enough for the naked eye to see. So, that means if you lost Donatello (with his bo staff) or Leonardo (with his twin katanas,) you were screwed, blued, and tattooed, so to speak. Raphael with his sais and Michaleangelo with his nunchucku didn't stand a chance. Whoever made it past the Technodrome, my hat goes off to you.
Bubble Bobble: Wow, yeah. On the oustside, it looks like a cute and cuddly game where little cartoonish dragons seal enemies away in bubbles and burst them to destroy them. However, what lies behind the true premise of this game is a torturous level-after-level pit of doom. Ugghhh. If it weren't for the password feature on this game I would've given up on it mere days after I first picked it up. And how many of you made it to the end, playing solo, just to find out that upon beating the final boss that the true and "good" ending could only be attained by playing through the game with a second player, and have you both survive both the game and the final boss? What about those of us who didn't have friends, or didn't have friends that would sit through hours of sheer torture just to save your pixelated in-game girlfriends? Sigh. The hours and days I wasted trying to beat this game.
Anything from the MegaMan Series: Something I always enjoyed, but I never owned a single title, and there was a very specific reason as to why I didn't: The game(s) was (were) so hard that I probably would've ended up destroying it by running the lawnmower over it, or something. Yeah, they were fun, and on occasion I could manage to beat a boss, but I really didn't have the finger dexterity to pilot the little blue dude through eight mini-bosses on his way to Dr. Wily. I was hopeless, and I realized this early on. I am the type that can recognize my faults and shortcomings, therefore I'm just gonna leave this alone. Just too hard for me. :(
So, there are four games (or series) from my past that we can use to compare.
And I have come up with an overwhelming conclusion:
Hell yes, games are easier now.
Just compare the hardtype Final Fantasy IV (or the original Final Fantasy, really... which was much harder) to the 21st century Final Fantasy X. There is no comparison. Yes, it's flashy, and it's beautiful, and the story is great... but is there any challenge? If you want challenge, play the original Final Fantasy with only four white mages. That's masochism at its best.
Well, I feel like I have been typing forever, so I guess I will cut this short. What do you think?

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Religion...or, Paris Hilton Has My Stuff

I live in a small town. There’s not a lot of entertainment here but there are a lot of churches. I like reading the message boards that they have out in front of the churches whenever I drive somewhere. Some of them are silly: “Life if fragile -- Handle with prayer.” Things of that nature. But I saw one today that I liked. It read, “Are the things you’re living for worth dying for?” It does make you think. I suppose the underlying message is supposed to be that you’re probably not living your life right. But that’s not how I took it. I started identifying what it was that I was living for. It wasn’t too hard to do. And I thought very quickly that, yes, I was willing to die for it, too. So, I guess I must be on the right track. But it had nothing to do with God or religion.

You know, the United States is allegedly the most God-fearing nation on earth. Some incredibly high percentage of people claim to believe in God, although considerably fewer people actually attend church. I don’t know if that’s confined to predominantly Christian countries or not since, from what I can tell, many Islamic countries seem to be very fervent, too. It makes you wonder how much religious belief affects things in our country -- things like politics, monetary practices, education, and so on.

When I was teaching I know that it was impossible to discuss literature without some religious context. One time I gave my freshmen students the Yeats poem “The Second Coming” to analyze for an essay. Oh, my! That was pretty much a disaster. Some kids more or less ignored the poem completely and gave me essays about Jesus’s return based on the book of Revelation. I got much more theology than literary analysis from that assignment, which makes you feel just awful if you’re an English teacher. It’s such a great poem and most of my students didn’t get it at all because they couldn’t get past the religious symbolism and references.

So, you have to wonder what other things become misunderstood in daily life because of religious references and miscommunication. Would we have gone to war in Iraq if we didn’t have so many religious differences with the Islamic world? Would we be there if there weren’t a thousand-year history of religious crusades and fighting on both sides? (And we shouldn’t forget that it was not all the West invading the Middle East. The Moors/Muslims invaded Spain in 711 and ruled the Iberian Peninsula for centuries. The Muslims quickly conquered northern Africa.) All of these old religious influences are still at work today.

Here in the U.S. we’re the product or beneficiary of the Protestant Reformation, whatever your individual religious beliefs may be. As a whole, we have a belief in progress -- that we can improve ourselves and earn a Godly reward. This is in contrast to a Medieval belief in a steadier, less changing world. We believe in individualism -- which coincides with the idea that each person can communicate with God him/herself and can read the Bible for him/herself. These are Reformation ideas that opposed Catholic belief that you need a priest intercessor and that Scripture had to be interpreted for you. We even believe in materialism -- the more things we have, the more it is proof of our “goodness.” This comes from the Puritan idea that only the Good are supposed to prosper. Of course, that’s ridiculous. People who aren’t good prosper all the time. Some of the most materialistic people are the worst people in our society. But we still have the belief that the more “stuff” you have, the better you must be -- or you wouldn’t have so much stuff. It’s a purely Protestant idea. So, when you see Paris Hilton or some other celebrity wearing expensive clothes and jewelry and you secretly envy her, you can tell yourself that there’s a religious basis for what you’re feeling. There must be some reason that God has blessed her with all of that bling. If you are just good enough yourself maybe God will give you some fabulous clothes and jewelry, too. Totally Protestant thinking! We equate riches with goodness and God’s blessing.

I could go on but this post has already gotten very long. Religious ideas shape the way we look at everything in our lives whether we consider ourselves religious or not.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Mysteries...the kind you read

I’ve already mentioned a few TV shows that I like. I am a fan of mysteries (and comedy) so I like Monk and Psych on Fridays. Monk is probably my favorite detective show since the old Columbo series. It’s not nearly as sophisticated but I like the character of Monk in the same way that I liked Peter Falk’s Columbo.

J-Matt likes to tease me about watching Murder, She Wrote, saying that it’s proof of what a dull life I lead. That’s only partly true. In truth, I never really watched the show much when it was originally on the air. I do watch it occasionally now since it’s on cable simply because I do like mysteries and sometimes it’s the best thing on. And, really, it’s hard not to like Jessica Fletcher-Angela Lansbury. The stories aren’t very complicated. It’s an enjoyable way to pass the time but the shows are very 1980s for the most part. They’re fun if you like to be reminded of the clothes and hair and the way things were back then. It wasn’t so long ago but a lot of things have changed in a short amount of time. When you think about it, a lot of mysteries revolve around whether or not people have telephone access so cellphones change everything now.

I was always a great Agatha Christie fan. I think I read all of her books. I liked Hercules Poirot much better than Miss Marple. I always felt that Miss Marple cheated. You would be reading along in a Miss Marple mystery, trying to figure things out, when all of a sudden, with 50 pages to go, Miss Marple would say that so-and-so was just like Johnny Applegate in her village and she would solve the mystery based on that obscure reference. How in the world was a reader supposed to know what Johnny Applegate was like? She had information that she didn’t share so you couldn’t solve the mystery. However, after reading a lot of her mysteries I determined that you could solve virtually any Miss Marple mystery by counting the seventh major character introduced -- that person was almost invariably the killer.

Hercules Poirot was a masterpiece of a detective. I admired him so much. What a great character. He was drawn with so much detail and precision. Even though I think Christie was making fun of him half the time she couldn’t diminish him. She only succeeded in making him more vivid. She wrote some great stories with Poirot. Anybody who is interested in reading a great Poirot story should read The Murder of Roger Ackroyd. I thought the PBS series with David Suchet as Poirot was outstanding.

After reading so much Christie I came to the conclusion that she had a very strong sense of right and wrong. That’s possibly what made her stories so appealing. She seemed to believe that there was genuine evil in the world and that individuals could do something about it. Evil was always punished, one way or another. You may have to fight small, individual battles, but you can win. I don’t know if you find people who believe in those ideas much anymore. I like her vision of the world, including the idea that reason can prevail and that people have to take action. Miss Marple could have stayed home like other little old ladies, knitting. Instead she busied herself solving murders. Hercules Poirot could have stay retired, growing vegetable marrows, but instead he becomes a private detective in his new country.

You can’t overlook Sherlock Holmes! I read all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Holmes stories when I was 13-14 years old. I think they had a profound effect on me. I’m a huge Holmes fan. I love Basil Rathbone as Holmes in the old movies and Jeremy Brett in the later series. They’re both wonderful. I don’t know why mysteries seem to be perfect for such idiosyncratic characters as Holmes.

There are so many other great mystery writers. I particularly like Elizabeth George, though I’ve gotten behind and I haven’t read her last 2-3 novels yet. Dorothy Sayers is wonderful. I like Ngaio Marsh, too. Minette Walters, Ruth Rendell, P.D. James -- they’re all excellent. I don’t have as much time for reading as I used to. Work gets in the way now. Even when I have time I can’t seem to relax and put things out of my mind the way I used to. I need to work on that and make more time for reading again. So many books, so little time.

Housecleaning and Vegetarianism

Okay, so I am finally done with my housecleaning. I have a roommate, but he is literally never here (one of my friends stated that I have all of the perks of having a roommate but none of the drawbacks, which, is quite stunningly accurate,) and I just cleaned house last week. So how in the world does my house get screwed up again to such a great extent in such a short amount of time?
Sometimes I think I have little elves that come out when I am sleeping, and wreak havoc on everything just to mess with me. Hey, it's not that far-fetched. Stranger things have happened.
So, this left me on my day off, cleaning house for hours, making sure the laundry is put up and the dishes and floors are clean... all so that no one will see it (not even my roommate, probably.)
Someone come hang out so I feel as though my housecleaning had a purpose!
And another thing, I got attacked today because I eat meat. And it was by someone I really don't even know that well. I've never attacked anyone on their own personal beliefs. I think we're all entitled to them. All I ask is that you return the favor. I just happened to choose to be a carnivore. Yes, it was a choice, my choice, so get off my back. I have a very live-and-let-live policy. Until you piss me off.
With that said, it's Friday night and I am off of work (amazingly.) Please forgive me if I leave now to find something to do. Or nap. I'm kinda tired.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Writing

I think my dog Billie is watching Brokeback Mountain. No joke. She lies in bed all day and I - like an idiot -- keep the TV on for her. I guess I left it on HBO or one of the movie channels, so she’s lying there watching it. I really do wonder how much they comprehend sometimes. She seems interested.

She’s having a better time than I am, that’s for sure. Everywhere I look there is nothing but snow and I am quite tired of it. Somebody should make it go away. The only other place for me to look is my computer screen where I’m supposed to be writing something halfway interesting and work-related. That’s not happening yet.

Working at home is great. I have TVs, I have the dogs, I have all the coffee I can drink, I can putter around, I can read e-mail. I love it. I guess I could do some of those things in an office environment but I would feel guilty about it. This way I can do whatever I want. I don’t feel guilty at all. And, I get a lot more work done. I can write 20 pages a day if I have to here at home. I could never do that much writing in an office. People are far more distracting to me than TVs and dogs.

I have a great story I’m working on right now. I have all the research and interviews done. But I’m in a time bind at the moment. I have a doctor’s appointment in a couple of hours so I don’t really want to get launched into writing the story right now knowing that I’ll have to stop. I prefer long, unfettered chunks of time so I can write without stopping. I can write in stop-and-start units but I don’t enjoy it.

I love writing and it really doesn’t matter much what it’s about. I’ve worked in communications for a big insurance company. I’ve worked as a freelancer and written about local history, theatre, festivals and events, music -- you name it. Now I write mostly about dogs, genetics and dog legislation. It doesn’t matter. I love writing. Whatever it is I’m writing about I can usually focus on it and forget everything else. It’s such a wonderful feeling.

Being a writer is really all I’ve ever wanted to be. Okay, I wanted to be a jockey for a while but I quickly became too tall for that career. But I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since I can remember. Even before I was old enough to go to school I stole a diary from my dad’s gift shop because I loved the empty pages and I wanted to be able to write in something. I’m not even sure I could write at that time, or do more than scrawl my name. There was just always something deeply satisfying about forming words, putting pen to paper, and now seeing words appear on the computer screen. I love it.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Jenseits Von Gut Und Bose

Somewhere between good and evil. I think that's where the majority (if not all) of us lie. None of us can be wholly good... nor are we unadulterated evil. I think we all have our problems, situations, that we need to work with, and the things we do well. Now, yes. Some of us are better at playing to our strengths and downplaying our weaknesses. But evil? No. Holy? Not quite.
I guess that's all I have to say for today.
No real point behind it. Just something I felt like saying.
Peace.

But while we're asking why, why bother?

I'm really not always so serious, but serious things have been on my mind a lot, lately. I promise to post something frivolous about, like, marshmallows or cartoon bears or something soon, don't worry.

--

You know how it feels. At least, if you're anyone I like, you probably do: the feeling that you're doing everything right, but you're still getting screwed. And not in the fun way. Eventually, after enough times, you start asking yourself why you even bother trying to be nice or honest or considerate or fair. The saying that "nice guys finish last" starts edging its way into your thoughts. You look at the way the world is working, and you think, "fuck, I might as well just lie and cheat and steal and use people, because those people are the only ones getting anything out of anything."

Then someone slaps you, and you are brought back to reality.

"I'm tired of being the only one with any shame!" I cried during a discussion of someone else's recent shitty behavior.
"I know, but don't change," she replied.
"I won't. Then the bastards are winning!"

This sums up my feelings on it pretty well. The truth is that if you are one of the liars, cheaters, thieves or manipulators, there is probably no reason to change that will really make sense to you. Your moral compass is too near a magnet. You will go on mistaking possession for fulfillment, and you will imagine you somehow have one up on the people who are decent enough to try to accomplish things the right way. You will mistake their virtue for weakness.

But anyone worth a damn knows better. It isn't what you own or who you're banging or where you're from or how many damn friends you have on MySpace. It's about being able to be proud of who you are, and have that pride mean something. Not pride like "I'm proud to be an American" (I never understood this--how can you be proud of something you had no hand in?), but pride like "I did all I could, I gave it everything I had, and I'm proud of myself." It's like having a leader you're glad to serve, except the leader is yourself.

This is the best thing I ever learned: self-respect is priceless. Knowing and loving who you are--and moreover, being loyal to that knowledge and that love--is worth more than getting ahead, and more than not getting hurt. I want to be the kind of person I would follow into battle. I want to be the kind of person I would trust with my life. I want to face every day, every situation bravely. Bravery does not guarantee success, but it does guarantee honor, and in the end, I would rather finish last with my integrity intact than win the race only to be ashamed of myself. Let everyone else betray me; I refuse to betray me too.

In short, virtue is not weakness. Gandhi, Jesus, Joan of Arc, Lincoln, King--who would ever call them weak? It is faith that grants true strength. Not religion, but the basic belief that what you do matters. Perhaps it is better to be feared than loved, sometimes, after all; the people who forego virtue will never love you, but they will know enough to fear anyone who lives by and dies for what is well beyond their grasp.

Snow Days

We’re essentially having snow days where I live. This is an area that doesn’t get much snow so when it snows for several days in a row it tends to throw everyone and everything into confusion. I went to the grocery store this morning and I was completely discombobulated because there were moms and kids everywhere. Of course, kids out from school today. I was colliding with kids around every corner. The roads were safe but the grocery store wasn’t.

Is there anyone who doesn’t like snow days? When we’re kids we love them because it means time out of school. I discovered a few years ago when I was teaching part-time at a college that teachers love them just as much as kids do. When there was the hint of snow I’d get up early and pray for the powers-that-be to call in and cancel school just as fervently as any student. I know that sounds terrible. I actually loved teaching. But there’s something about an unexpected day off that really makes me happy. And going to school day after day, week after week can take a toll on anyone. I think we all need little breaks.

So, I’m enjoying the snow we have on the ground right now. There’s just enough snow to vary the routine. Not enough snow to cause any real problems. There are no power outages in the area. The temperatures are not any lower than normal. I don’t think the snow is hurting anyone. And it’s still pretty outside. It hasn’t turned to slush or become muddy. In fact, the snow is still falling tonight and more is supposed to fall tomorrow. It makes a good excuse to bundle up in the house and stay warm. I bought brownies and muffins at the store -- I also used the snow as an excuse to indulge my sweet tooth. I reasoned that since I would be cooped up in the house I should treat myself. Naps seem to be in order, too. Even though I work at home and the snow should not have much impact on my ability to work, I am using it as an excuse to work less. I really can’t explain that decision but it feels right.

On this snowy February evening I will be warm indoors enjoying muffins and watching the snow fall. It’s a nice, safe feeling to have the cold outside and to feel comforted indoors. Somehow it brings to mind centuries of people keeping the cold at bay. I hope your evening is just as warm and good.

Saltines, Sprite Zero, and Short-Term Memory Loss.

Yay for stomach viruses.
I haven't left my bed since midnight after the Super Bowl... except to, well... I think you can figure it out. And no, I can guarantee that alcohol abuse was in fact not the cause of this one.
On the positive side, I think I've lost five pounds in two days.
But it has given me quite a bit of time to lay here and think, as I've done many times before. I just haven't had the energy to type it all out, and what I fear has happened is... I've forgotten what I thought about.
And here I thought I was making progress.
So, instead of my epiphanic revelations of self-truth, I'll post something mindless instead.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Why ask why?

"You cannot judge any man beyond your knowledge of him, and how small is your knowledge," Kahlil Gibran writes in Sand and Foam. When I first read this line, years ago, I remember sitting there, feeling both moved by the truth of it and lonely. How small is my knowledge indeed. And, on the flip side, how small is everyone else's knowledge of me.

When you're faced with terrible things in your life, when someone does something to you that is beyond your comprehension, the instant reaction is to ask why. Why and how could you do that to me? What does it mean, that you could do that to me? Asking why here, though, is like asking any other kind of why: the answers can split and branch off in a thousand different directions, and you start the search knowing, deep down, that no answer you find can ever truly console or satisfy you. It's like asking why you're in the situation at all. Are you here because your parents happened to meet in 1979? Are you here because you grew up feeling out of place and lonely? Are you here because you applied to your current job on a whim and they were the first place to hire you? Are you here because of alcohol, too much compassion, a reckless disregard for the future?

Which is how I ended up remembering Mr. Gibran's words of wisdom about the other 6-odd billion people on the planet: their actions are the blend of every previous thought and experience that their lives have brought on, coalesced into that one more thought and one more action which crossed my life. If I was not enough to deter them from hurting me, then it is not my fault. Their knowledge of me is too small, even though I had assumed it was larger, and the portion of me included in the great book of Everything There Is to Know about them is not great enough to weigh out what has come before it.

This is not to say that when people are cruel that it is excusable. Everyone chooses how to use their experiences, chooses what to make of them. But the truth of the matter is not the questioning anyway. It is that "the bitterest thing in our today's sorrow is the memory of our yesterday's joy." It is grieving that what brought you happiness has caused you pain. Rather than asking why--rather than trying to actually answer why--perhaps it is better to know from the outset that you can never wholly understand. Your knowledge of the other person is always a little too small.

Why Warm and Fuzzy Is Bad

I can sympathize with J-Matt. It seems I never sleep much either anymore. Maybe it’s all the soft drinks I’ve been drinking. Or the pot of coffee I drink everyday. Or the TV I have on all night. Or maybe it’s the dogs that want up and down on the bed all through the night. But I just seem to sleep in pieces. After I’ve had a night like that I sometimes get the feeling that I’m only sleepwalking through the next day. Not a good feeling. It’s like being one of the walking dead.

I was watching the game last night (Didn’t I tell you the Steelers were evil?) and I had this thought -- more of a realization -- that what I want in my life more than anything else is that which is REAL. Maybe it was the football players putting big hits on people, or the way they hit the ground, or the effort they were putting into the game. I don’t know what it was. But it made me think that there was something real about it and that’s what I wanted, too. That’s why I liked it.

I want everything in my life to be real. I want facts over theory. I want evidence. I want experience over idealism. I get tired of people with good intentions who don’t know anything. I get tired of idiots. I get tired of the world being run by people who are all about warm, fuzzy feelings.

All through my life I was told that if you worked hard and got a good education that you would go far. That’s what I did. Now I’m here and the world is being run by people who have big hearts and no brains. Or, worse, it’s being run by manipulative bastards who use the people with hearts and no brains. So many people don’t care about the facts of a situation at all. What matters is personality, looks, public relations, money, catch phrases, easy answers that can be understood by the dumbest people.

Sorry for the rant. We probably all know a situation where this applies. And, it’s probably hopeless.

I’m not usually so depressing. I’ve just been fighting one particular battle for a long time and now it’s on my doorstep so I’m a little edgy about it.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Why The Steelers Are Evil

I hate to post twice in one day but since the Super Bowl is tonight I have to hurry up and post a few reasons why I will be hoping the Arizona Cardinals whip themselves into a frenzy and beat the Pittsburgh Steelers. To put it bluntly, the Steelers are evil.

Now, I don't say that lightly. No. Not at all. I say that as someone who has been watching the Steelers play since Franco Harris caught the Immaculate Reception. At first I had no real interest in whether the Steelers won or lost but it wasn't long before they always seemed to be winning -- playoff games, Super Bowls, you name it -- at the expense of one of "my" teams. Whatever team I happened to be supporting, there were the Steelers to spoil the party. Whether it was the Minnesota Vikings for years and years when I was a kid, or other teams later, the Steelers were always there in my way.

That would be enough to make me dislike them. But I have personal reasons, too. When I was a kid my younger brother (my obnoxious younger brother) hero-worshipped the Steeler teams of the 1970s. If you had to live with a brother who was constantly in your face boasting and bragging about the Steelers, you would be sick of them, too.



So, for every Mean Joe Greene who blocks a QB's pass, I want revenge. For the defense people rave about, I say push 'em back. For all the great receivers, send great coverage. And for the Terry Bradshaws and Big Bens, we want sacks. Stomp those Terrible Towels!!!

That's my Super Bowl message today. Go Cardinals!

Astrology

I just got through reading my monthly horoscope at AstrologyZone.com. Susan Miller does these horoscopes and they are the best I have ever seen. I’ve been reading them for years and they are so accurate they are almost frightening. In fact, I have sent these horoscopes to people who don’t believe in horoscopes at all and made believers out of them.

My current horoscope (I’m a PIsces so this is my birthday month) sounds great. It’s supposed to be a good month creatively, financially and romantically(!!!!). I’m just a little confused because I’m supposed to spend the first three weeks meditating as a recluse. LOL Well, those aren’t the words used in the horoscope, but that’s what they amount to when you put it all together. Hmm, so three weeks alone, thinking and being very right-brainish. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to get so much accomplished if I’m all alone letting my brain roam free. If I start lying around dreaming and daydreaming my brain could end up anywhere and it might not want to come back.

If you’re one of those people who doesn’t believe in horoscopes you may be wondering how any semi-intelligent person could put any stock in something so archaic. Well, why not? What does it hurt? And, if you read books about astrology, I think there’s at least some validity to it. Haven’t we all known people who did seem to fit their astrological sign? I’ve learned that the more you know about someone’s birth horoscope, the more insights it does seem to give you into their character and behavior.

(You can get a free Birth Chart at this web site.)

Okay, I know by now you probably think I’m nuts but it really doesn’t matter. I think astrology is interesting. Being interested in astrology does not have to mean that you believe in predestination. Quite the contrary. Knowing the currents of events can give you warnings about things before they happen so you can change them. That’s what I think anyway. You can even change yourself and your own personality. You can become aware of some of your own weaknesses and improve yourself.

Those are my thoughts on the subject.

First post of the new month, and it's really more of a question.

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090201074633AA50gf2

There ya go. Any answerers?

Happy February to all.