Just this morning, I have read two separate cases of people buying sealed electronics only to get robbed. How did this happen? At some point between initial construction and the sale, the electronic item was replaced with rocks or a brick and then the package was sealed or resealed.
1. Anyone who thinks a seal cannot be removed and then replaced without anyone noticing is grossly naive and/or has never hired a professional mover.
2. Are people really that optimistic these days, or have I been a pessimist all these years and just not been aware of the fact?
Open your electronic items before leaving the store, people! Even if it is a gift, at least you will spare some poor kid the pain of discovering that the DS he thought he was receiving was in fact a pile of rocks. By opening your 'sealed' electronics in the store, even at walmart, you will get instant satisfaction rather than have to go round in circles between seller and manufacturer, because each will do whatever they can to avoid issuing a refund. It is probably easier to return an automobile than it is to return electronics. (I've never returned a car, so I'm just guessing here.)
Honestly, I wish they'd just set up a table right at the door for just this purpose, especially the electronics retailers.
1D10T
It's just like those bloody peasants
I attended the funeral of my beloved step-grandfather, the only "grandfather" in my life who acted the part. Both my "real" grandfathers had died long before I was born, and both my grandmothers had remarried. My father's mother married a bitter man whose soul was completely cheerless. My mother's mother had married again twice, first to a friend of her first husband who was a greedy, thieving bastard, and then to Earl, who was The Last Real Gentleman.
Everyone loved Earl. The whole community, most of whom are related to me, embraced him, an outsider, as one of their own, adopting him as their own grandfather, uncle, or brother. I have had occasion to wonder if this did not perhaps perturb my grandmother a bit, a woman who was not well-liked even by her own children.
It was a lovely service. The rain stopped just enough for us to return him to the earth. The sun had even blessed us a bit, encouraging us to smile through our loss. I felt reassured.
And then, I became a tourist back in my home county of Guernsey. I snapped pictures of our local library, a gift from Andrew Carnegie. I also took pictures of our courthouse, a triumph of architecture back in the late 1880s, placed not in the county seat but in the biggest town in the county. (The seat was moved to accommodate the courthouse location later, and the original seat dwindled away to just a village.)
Tucked into a parking lot, I found this sign, and thought you all will laugh as mightily as I did:
I hope this post finds you well and in good spirits. For those who embrace the possibility, there is a most excellent man watching over you, purest of heart and soul. Do much to deserve the honor. For me, it is enough to know that in life, my grandfather was well-respected and loved not because he demanded it but because he earned it.
a bleak and rimey day
In November of 2007, my mother's mother passed. I hardly noticed. I no longer cared for the woman. She was greedy and cruel to us, her grandchildren, when she should have been kind, at a time in her life when she did not need the money she took from us but we were hungry and with holes in our shoes.
Today, her 3rd husband and the only "grandfather" I ever knew, passed. The news was such a great shock to me; I've never--never--felt such a pain. It gripped my heart and my guts, my mind went completely blank, and I had no words, not even to comfort my mother who had loved him as much as she had loved her own departed father.
I will be taking about 11 days off from writing to you, my dear readers. I need time to myself; I just can't bring myself to share more. This weight I feel, I can't describe it. I feel a certain selfishness, a need to withdraw. Please accept my apology and my promise to return, hopefully refreshed and ready to engage you in [whatever].
Tender regards,
Soo
And the winner is....
I'm overweight, but we've discussed that before.
In two days, I'll be among the unemployed. That'll be okay, because I've managed to use most of my pay wisely. It's a lovely feeling.
I'm going to have some time on my hands, and I really don't want to do a lot of what really needs to be done: final unpacking and jettisoning useless crap.
Instead, I've decided to exercise a film away every single day. I bought Mister a stationary bike with my first paycheck, and plan to "bike" my way through a new film every day. I'd like to watch films I've never seen before, although watching all the Star Trek films in order must be done, as it's never been done (by me) before.
Mister has lists of films I've asked him to produce, based on the American Film Institute's "top films" list, as well as access to lists of Oscar winners and nominees for best film. Before I troll those lists to kit out my netflix queue, however, I'd like to ask my lovely readers for their input.
Which films would you recommend? I do have some "don't go there" issues!
- No extreme comedy. Giggling + biking = big girl falls.
- No extreme weepy stuff. Let's just say I'm an moody rollercoaster and Mister gets disturbed when he returns home to a weepy blob.
- If it's anything like The Big Chill, I probably won't like it.
- Videodrome is right out. No exceptions.
PS... One more thing: no porn. I'm just not a porn-before-lunch kinda person, you know?
Eleventy minus thirty eleven equals.... ?
It's a two-fer-Tuesday!
Learn more about me, in twos, than you ever wanted to know. And then, if you want, cut-n-paste and then do one of your own. Link me, if you'd like, just as I linked The Beav, who brought this up in the first place!
Two names you go by:
1. Soo
2. Suzanne
Two things you are wearing right now:
1. a smile
2. glasses
TWO OF your favorite things to do
1. Compute
2. Sing
Two things you want very badly at the moment:
1. silence
2. another Date Night
Two Pets that you have or have had
1. Sarah - the psycho kitty
2. Gigi/Jigs - The girl cat that turned out to be a boy cat.
Two people who will fill this out:
1. Beav already did
2. Possibly Keith
Two things you did last night:
1. Watched my son kick ass in soccer
2. logged in to facebook
Last thing you ate:
1. chicken-bacon-swiss from Arby's
2. meatloaf
Two people you last talked to:
1. The Baby
2. Mister
Two things you’re doing tomorrow:
1. Work
2. Trivia/karaoke
Longest trips taken:
1. Plane/Distance: US - England
2. Car/Time: Atlanta, GA - Monterrey, CA (took us 6 days, thanks for DFW & its 10 miles of malls--tks, Mister!)
Your favorite holidays:
1. Halloween
2. Thanksgiving
Two favorite beverages:
1. Pepsi
2. Pepsi
TAG, YOU’RE IT!
Maxwell's Silver Hammer
This past weekend, the in-laws came for a visit. At one point someone noticed that a little up the street there were several police cars with lights going. I brushed it off because I was aware of two things: another police officer lived in that area and that in one of the houses in that area the couple did not exactly get on peaceably.
Earlier in the week, a news report informed the local area that in a neighboring town, a woman was bludgeoned to death when she interrupted an alleged burglary in her home. There were no suspects at that time. Her neighbor/coworker was very concerned and disturbed by the event.
The day after that, the concerned neighbor needed medical attention after being shot by an alleged burglar that she interrupted. There was a crime wave in the making, and it was quickly getting very violent!
Only it wasn't a violent crime wave. Turns out this concerned neighbor was [allegedly] covering up for her son, who [allegedly] committed the robbery/murder. She [allegedly] allowed herself to be shot and her house ransacked in order to make it look like another crime scene. The irony was that in fact it did become a crime scene, just not the way she anticipated.
And so mother and son were arrested, him for murder and her for conspiracy, plus a few other things. Only he lived just up the street from me. Two houses up, as a matter of fact, exactly between me and the resident police officer.
Holy crap.
In which I proposition a dinner hostess
Back in March, Mister and I created a fantastic chili recipe which won 2nd place in a contest. First prize was a gift card to an electronics chain store for $100. Pretty nifty. We won a one-night stay plus dinner for two at a local ultra-posh hotel. We guestimated the value of that to be over $200, if one used the 'government' rate instead of the 'civilian' room rate.
And so we went.
We checked in, dropped our bags in the room and checked everything out. I don't know about anyone else, but I've traveled a lot and first order of business is to lay down on the bed to determine how badly I'm going to sleep. Second is to check out the bathroom.
Well, I can say with complete confidence that for room 407 of the [name redacted] Hotel, the bed is ultra-soft, the duvet is so soft you will never in your life experience a nicer blanket, and the bathroom is a dream: super-size whirlpool tub and a roomed-off loo. It is also a two-room suite with a little living room, and they gave us the most delicious, warm chocolate chip cookies as a treat for staying with them. Woot!
We dressed for dinner. I really felt like making it special and so we went posh. I even wore nice sandals! I'm so glad we did, because it really was a fancy dinner, even if it was a buffet, only occasionally marred by the locals who came just for the dinner in their sweatpants and flip-flops. While waiting for our table, the dinner hostess, a pretty young woman, chatted with us. I mentioned it was our first time at the hotel, and she asked us how we liked it.
Our conversation went something like this:
H: ...Welcome to [name redacted]! How do you like it?
S: Wow! The bed is so soft and the room is just great!
H: That's what I had heard.
S: You really should check it out. It's fantastic!
H: ... Um, /hushed voice/ employees aren't really allowed...
S: Oh. Maybe not tonight, but some other time. It's really nice.
H: Perhaps you go to Hilton Head? We have another hotel there that's right on the beach.
S: Oh, I love the beach! I really miss it. I've heard Hilton Head is lovely. /to Mister/ We should go this summer!
M: I think you need to stop.
S: ....?
As we were sitting down to dinner and ordering our wine, Mister explained what he got from the conversation, but said that I showed good taste, considering she was very attractive. I, on the other hand, was mortified. I really had no idea.
George Lucas is a whore
George Lucas started a good thing with Star Wars, A New Hope back in 1977. Things went well with Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, in spite of the Ewoks, and is hereto known as TOS. There were a few hiccups with the Ewoks cartoon and an unfortunate "holiday special," but fans like me were willing to forgive and forget.
And then, Lucas loses his ever-loving mind. He developed episodes 1-3, hiring some of the best (McGregor, Jackson, and Neeson) and some of the worst (Portman, Christenson) actors available. The plots of 1 and 2 were sketchy, although eventually 3 was intense and in line with episodes 4 through 6. In the meantime, he digitized TOS. Oh, and then he added extra footage to the digitized versions of TOS. By this time, we had 3 different versions of TOS, some on VHS, some on DVD.
And then there was Clone Wars.
First, Lucas created a little serial sketched out by the Samarai Jack team. Presented on Cartoon Network, this was a hard-to-follow series simply because it was run in three-minute segments sporadically throughout certain regular shows on the network. First, one had to enjoy the regular show enough to stay focused. And then one had to remember it was on in the first place. Oh, the joy when it was finally put out on DVD. The whole series, on one DVD. Yay!
Next, Lucas decides that the orginial cartoon series, hereto known as TOCS, just wasn't enough. He created a CGI film, and the actors from episodes 1-3 voiced their animated counterparts. It caused something of a geek squee in anticipation, but did not entirely live up to its expectations.
And then, Lucas decides that the film must also have a CGI cartoon series to fill in the CGI film, introducing new characters that were not part of the live-action film series, even in flashbacks, or even part of the TOCS. This new series, hereto called Teh Stoopids, was also hosted on Cartoon Network as a regular show, rather than the ill-advised three-minute serial. Shortly after the last episode of the first season finished airing, a commercial reminded us to buy Teh Stoopids on DVD the following Tuesday. As this coincided with the release of the next installment of Daniel Craig Walks Shirtless On The Beach, I decided to surprise Mister with the next addition to his Star Wars collection.
I bought Daniel Craig. I did not buy Clone Wars.
Why? Because instead of the entire series of Teh Stoopids on one DVD, only the first four episodes are available at this time. And so in order to get the entire series, we must shill out $14.00 per DVD for a total of six DVDs. Nearly $100, if you include tax and then round up, for one flaming cartoon series, and it's not even the end of the story.
And so I say, George Lucas is a whore.
Editor's note: Daniel Craig Walks Shirtless On The Beach part 2 did not in fact feature Daniel Craig walking shirtless on the beach, unfortunately. He did in the first of his James Bond films, and I was really hoping for a repeat. What a disappointment in that respect, although the writers, with much kindness, did find other ways for Craig fans to glimpse his well-tanned features, bless their hearts!
To Thine Own Self, Be True
This morning, after The Teens dashed off for the bus, I remembered her key ring had been sitting on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, along with her art portfolio. Hoping she remembered her key, I went to check.
"Oh good! She remembered her key.... Gah! I forgot about that damn throwing star! I hope she took that off.... Oh for the love of... Will those kids ever clean up after themselves? [The Girl] left her Gwee dragon and her coffin candy case *right there.* I'll have to talk to her about that..."
Yes, mine is a strange household. Someday I may tell you how The Boy spent this weekend piecing together old audio equipment using masking and packing tapes to make a headset for his XBox.
that'll leave a mark
I also believe there is a time and a place for everything. Certain discussions just shouldn't be public. One example was the wedding proposal from a few weeks back.
Yesterday, I was minding my own business in the grocery store, checking my list to make sure I'd bought everything I'd intended. A raised female voice floated toward me from behind, and my radar ears perked up. This is what I heard as this young twenty-something couple strolls by:
"...blah blah even before we started dating, I thought you waddled..."Really? Wow! I'm sure glad you shared that with the world, miss. I'll bet he is, too!
I got me a Chrysler, it's as big as a whale!
I'm not a t-shirt buyer, although I want to be. I'm large and forever thinking that "someday," I will be thinner, so why waste all that money on stuff I won't be able to wear without looking dumpy, later? However, Wheaton's shirt is so full of win, I decided instantly that I. Must. Have. It.
The deal was sealed when I learned two things: one, it was only $10, and two, for another $5, I could have "overnight" shipping.
And so I ordered one yesterday (Thursday morning). I'd never before purchased anything from Woot, so I was unaware of this lovely little caveat of theirs that warns its customers after their cards are processed that the actual processing of their order may take as much as five days.
WTF?!
But guess what was on my doorstep today? Uh-huh, that's right. My. Very. Own. Wheaton. T!
**Will be updated with the photo of me, wearing my Wheaton Shirt, once I find that damn camera!
Perhaps not.
Here in the asscrack of America, Mister is into trivia. There are literally a dozen or more places to go, and there's trivia every flaming night of every flaming week. He even has a favorite trivia master, a guy who used to be (or may still be, I can't get a straight answer) a radio DJ.
We used to go out on Wednesday nights for "miscellany" trivia to this restaurant that specialized in Argentinian cuisine. It was open for precisely one year. Unfortunately, being the buckle of the bible belt, the liquor license was more than they could take, and they closed rather than renew.
A few weeks later, Trivia Man finds a new Wednesday spot, a little redneck dive on the south side of town, past the "Motor Mile" and just before the ghetto. They host karaoke every night as well. Yes, even Mondays. Mister likes this, because on Wednesdays he can get both trivia and a song! This bar also serves food, but after this week's fiasco, I think they just need to stick to beer, even though their beer list can be recited by the waitress. Yes, it's that short. You better like Michelob.
This past Wednesday, I was witness to a horror no one should ever experience. It was such a nightmare! There was pain and humiliation, a big chick and Ichebod Crane, bad food and an announcer giving a play-by-play as the whole thing unfolded.
At the half time of the trivia game, Trivia Man gets everyone's attention as Ichebod goes on one knee and produces a ring box for his girl. She immediately responds with, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! OMG!! STOP EMBARRASSING ME!!"
There was absolute silence in the place as Ichebod just looks at her like a deer caught in the headlights. A few moments go by, and he finally accepts the situation. He gets up, puts the box back into his pocket, takes out his wallet, throws some money on the table (I assume for their meal) and walks out.
The silence is now very heavy. Big Girl gets up a few minutes later, says a few words to Trivia Man, and leaves as well. Finally, people start talking, and the game slowly resumes.
That was, most definitely, OMG.
spit take **possibly NSFW language
You know me. I'm always on the lookout for badly-planned license plates. My favorites are the personality plates that people think up themselves, thinking they're cute, cunning, or funny but really aren't.
On the other hand, occasionally the state can think up a few doozies themselves.
I was following a car recently whose license plate read, among other things, "DPSH9X."
Obviously, I thought it meant to say, "Dipshits."
Considering that the plate was a disabled-driver plate, that actually pissed me off initially. I got over it, however.
I will say, though, that while Virginia's need to encourage everyone to think up their own plate went too far, Georgia practically stifles the creativity of its citizenry. I'm so bored on the road now. No sense in going out some days.
Interrogation Room
My friend, The Beav, offered up himself for information slaughter. In honor of his sacrifice, I have done the same. These are the questions he asked, and my responses:
1. When you were a little girl, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Happy.
I wasn't, but I wanted to be so very desperately. My parents hated each other and fought constantly, vicious battles that always ended in a visit from the police or my father storming away, leaving us stranded in the middle of nowhere with no help from neighbors who kept themselves to themselves, even when my mother lay helpless and damaged.
I wanted what was advertised on television: parents who were in love, who adored their children and lived to sing their praises, a happy family. It never truly happened, but we got close enough when my parents split, and finally we could breathe without fear. We were cold and hungry most winter nights, sometimes we went without power or water for a few days, but it was better than the fear and disappointment.
I know this isn't what you meant. And so, to answer that question, I wanted to be an astronaut. I was very good in science and math, with a thirst for knowledge of the universe. Enter my parents, or more specifically, my father. "College?! Are you nuts? What the hell does a girl do with a college education anyway? You're just gonna get married..." My mother never contradicted him, and I was never praised in my math and science achievements until they began to not matter anymore. In the end, I only wanted to escape and be "something, anything, but married and pregnant."
Irony is a bitch.
2. What person whom you have never met has influenced your life the most?
My father's father. He died in a car crash of his own making after having had a few beers at the bar with his workmates before setting off home. My grandmother always blamed one of her sons for denying her husband much-needed sleep by being an obnoxious little asshole--and he probably was; all of her sons were--but in truth he bought his death on his own. Unfortunately, he also bought the deaths of innocents.
I will never drink and drive, and I will drive to the ends of the earth for anyone who calls me to their rescue. I also will never forget that I am part of a family, part of a team, and that there are many people who depend upon me; I am not an island, nor am I more important than anyone else.
3. What is your biggest life-goal/dream?
To never go hungry again, or to be cold and miserable, or dirty. And to also find myself at the natural end of my life without an arrest record. That would be spiffy, I think.
4. Choose a moment in your life that you feel set you on your current course, and describe the moment and what it meant to you.
The quiet afternoon hours of a Spring day in 1991, I saw my dreams of college wash away with the dawn and the receipt of a denial of financial assistance. A few days later, I lied to a police officer to protect a person dear to my heart from getting arrested for drunk driving. Hypocrisy, thou art an unkind mistress! I knew then I needed to escape my life, or I would never be more than my upbringing--a kept woman, dependent on the generosity of my partner, and forever pregnant.
In a very low, morose state of mind, I scruffed on the sofa for the entire day. At one point during my wallowing, a commercial for the United States Air Force Reserves came on the television, slowly filtering into my foggy brain until it fully registered that here was my out: employment and a college education, in a land far, far away.
The very next day, I went to the recruiting station, and before the week was out, I was delayed-enlisted into the Active Duty Air Force, awaiting that call to get me the hell out of Dodge. I told no one, afraid someone would guilt me out of my plans, as was the usual routine. Even the day I left, I still kept my secret. No one knew the truth until I was safely tucked away in Texas, a thousand miles (literally) from everything I knew and everyone who could influence me.
I was free!
5. If you could choose your name, what would you choose? Why?
When I was in elementary school, I spelled my name every which way I could think of, because I hated it. I wanted to be called "Tracy." It just seemed so pretty and girly, and I was anything but. My name was old-sounding, old-fashioned, and it made everyone want to start singing one of several insipid songs. Plus I was chubby, and many people would point out the similarities between me and a certain snack cake that (sort-of) shared my name.
However, as an adult, I prefer my name as it is, because it's old-fashioned and very rare among my generation. I am relatively unique, and old enough now that most people don't bother busting out in song because it would just make them look pretty stupid.
I've come to terms with me, even Fat Me. I'm good, you know?
---
And now, here's the deal: If you, Dearest Reader, would like me to interview you, just leave me a comment and I'll send you your very own five (5) questions. But you have to follow Da Rules (see below).
Thank you for reading my blog.
Soo
Da Rules:
You have to link back to the original post (http://immoralmatriarch.com/questionsagain) and include the following in your post:
Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.”
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
Found a Peanut
In the these great United States of America, we are in the midst of a conundrum. Most people agree that we have "too much government." Unfortunately, American businesses have shown that they will not check themselves against greed and stupidity. If certain businesses were not greedy and stupid, they would not have asked the American taxpayer to bail them out of the messes they created.
Another example of stupidity is the Peanut Corporation of America, a factory in Georgia that makes peanut paste among other peanut butter products and which is in the midst of yet another massive salmonella outbreak which is linked to eight deaths and hundreds of poisonings across the US.
Obviously, it's causing no end of hysteria among peanut butter consumers. However, PCA does not produce all the peanut butter used in our nation's peanut butter-based products. This fact has done little to allay the concerns of our nation's peanut farmers, who feel that this latest outbreak is going to cripple their industry.
A father-and-son farming team in Burke County, Georgia, was interviewed by our local news channel, and expressed their concern about the overall price of their harvest. The rumor mill has reached them that the nationwide price of peanuts is going to drop nearly 30% per ton, all because of this one factory. The astute father had this to say about it: "Truth has nothing to do with perception."
I thought that that one statement was probably the most profound thing I'd ever heard. Granted, that was at about 5:30 am this morning, after a rough night's sleep dreaming of geriatric vampires trying to gum me to death. Again. Still, I think that statement is accurate for nearly every situation.
If it's all right with you, Mr Farmer, I'd like to borrow that phrase. It's one that needs repeating regularly.
newslink credit the the Los Angeles Times
...or a flying pteradactyl
There is a store at the mall called, "Hot Topic," which caters to the emo and goth crowds.
...
...
It's just so... I dunno... Ironic.
I'm "IT"
Mister's old laptop was taken over by the children, since I've been a lazy cow and not replaced the power supply to one of our desktops. The Boy is a dabbler who's afraid of nothing thanks to the fact that his mom is the household's I-T Guy. He's also known as Mister Impatient around here, because of his massively annoying super-clicks when our systems slow down.
Not too long ago, he decided that Ye Olde Laptop was running very slowly because of all the games installed and the "extra files" Mister left on it. Obviously, he should start deleting stuff because he's so smart with computers for a 13-year-old, and then it would just go-go-go. The end result was no-no-no.
In fact, the problem wasn't with the stuff his parents had installed, it was with the stuff he was installing without our permission. Even with pop-up blockers and anti-virus software, he managed to download a trojan which infected the system--thankfully it didn't escape across our network--and annoy the hell out of anyone who used that laptop.
And so I spent a lovely Saturday saving individual files to CDRs (no, it's old enough it's not a dvd writer) so that I could wipe the hard drive and start fresh. My adventures began just after breakfast and carried me well into the night before I paused the operation in favor of a little sleep.
Morning found me installing the second recovery disc, the one full of drivers and additional software. The rest of Sunday was devoted to installing security patches, technical updates and a new anti-virus program.
Unfortunately, this is only System One of the Great I-T Confabulation of 2009. I have two other systems to repair before our network is running tip-top.
And people wonder why I don't do this for a living.
imagine all the people
I was sitting at my little counter today just staring off into space and time, thinking about nothing in particular and feeling nothing in particular, when something caught my attention.
A short distance from my office is an overpass, and I noticed a police car moving slowly with its lights on. There was a hearse following behind, and, for some reason only known to my subconscious, I started counting the cars between the hearse and the tailing police escort.
It was a short count.
There were five cars in the procession. There was no limousine, no fancy funeral home car, just the hearse and five vehicles belonging to friends and family.
After fielding calls from people "absolutely desperate" to get their refund back, people willing to risk hefty fines and possible jail time because they insist on "borrowing" someone else's kids so they can get certain tax credits, that sad little procession reminded me that life is too short, too precious, too full of other pains for me to worry about "small stuff."
So the Mom-mobile needs new tires up front? It'll be all right. The engine light keeps popping up on Mister's car. It's not overheating and the oil light is not on, so just keep smiling.
It's a cruel thing, is life. One day at a time, that's all we should ever need. Nobody is more important than anyone else, but neither is anyone less important. If you have nothing else, then just smile and wave, because no one can take that away.
In the can? Yeah, probably.
And so I began my temporary employment. The actual location is not the most secure in town, and its clients are not the most upstanding. In fact, this is an area of town in which certain of its residents are not so modest they use euphemisms for having been sent to prison, and most lack the modesty to keep the reason to themselves.
I am keenly observing The Great Human Experiment and my part in the grand scheme. My fear is that, by the end of my contract, I will have become jaded toward the indigent and cease to care for their plight. I have seen a cynicism that was, at first, rather shocking to me. Unfortunately, after just a few days, that cynicism is slowly beginning to make sense.
How does one break one's heart day in and day out when one is a constant witness to willing failure yet remain whole?
I am not religious; you all know that. I do not believe that one must trust to some higher power in order to find meaning or truth. We are our strength as well as our weakness. When we lose our ability to empathize, when we cease to be affected by the obscene misuse of public trust and funds at the expense of those who are easily and quickly pushed aside by those who misuse our trust, then we cease to be. To lose our connection with those who are left behind by society is to lose our connection with our inner goodness.
And it's clear to me that humanity could use more goodness.
At least she has a pretty face
I've been enticed into joining the big, bad world of Facebook. Thanks a lot, friends.
I've reconnected with one lost friend as well as with my nestlings. The love I feel is tremendous and reassuring. I miss my nest. I rarely let people in, and when I do, it's forever. Some nestlings will be lost to me forever; although it hurts, it's for the best. Sometimes you just can't go home again.
I noticed that some of my nestlings are "fans" of other people. I quickly discovered how to become fans of my own favorite celebs. Here are some quick stats so that you may judge me at your will:
First fansite joined: Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail
First American fansite joined: Wil Wheaton (fan #444)
Total Brits and Scots on my list: 14
Most unusual search: "Weasley Twins," resulting in my becoming Fan #69 of James & Oliver Phelps' fansite
Why was my search of "Weasley Twins" unusual? Well, go to facebook and use those two words in the upper right search box to see what you get. If your first option was the same as mine, I'm sure you'll wonder along with me why anyone would create a group called "I wouldn't mind if I was double-teamed by the Weasley twins," as well as wonder twice as hard over whether you've got the balls to find out what is on that site that might make someone want to unjoin the group.
For the record, I don't, so I didn't.
I'll be searching my photo files to upload a history of me, although anyone hoping for a fast response time will be sorely disappointed. I'm a bit lazy like that.