Nancy's Journal: Or, a day in the life of a low-income American

2006-06-16T18:30:00.000-04:00

CIAO, ADIOS, VAARWEL, ISTENHOZZAD, ADIEU, HWYL, BLESS, GOODBYE.

I've enjoyed writing in this blog, very much. Unfortunately, it's time to part ways with blogger and blogging in general.

I did not make the decision lightly, and have several reasons for doing this. The one's I'm willing to make public are:

1. The amount of spam I'm getting on my e-mails has almost doubled since I began blogging, and is now beginning to include deceptive porn e-mails...not my cup of tea, those.

2. Out of several dozen or more entries, I've received only five comments...one of which was not printable, if you know what I mean. I'm assuming this means nobody is especially interested in my blog, which is okay. However, I realize that I'm using valuable time writing stuff that is totally uninteresting, so...I'm going back to a private hand-writtten journal.

3. I started this blog as an theraputic aid to help me through some tough times, but it really isn't helping me all that much, any more than when I was keeping a private journal at home...so what's the point, ey?

You can, of course, always let me know if my assumption regarding #2 on the list above is wrong. In which case I will re-consider my decision.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DID READ, AND ARE READING THIS BLOG, I THANK YOU AND HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY.

2006-06-16T11:08:00.000-04:00

Time flies--but I'm stuck walking.

Seems like I just got home from work a few hours ago...well, okay, I got home around a half hour after midnight, but, as usual, didn't fall asleep 'till after 2am. Hauled my sleepy self begrudgingly out of bed, nothing for breakfast today, I'm afraid--no bread, no eggs, no butter. I do have some bacon, but...just bacon. Not much of a breakfast in that, I'm afraid. If I had the money to spare, I'd go to the diner for breakfast. Guess I'll just have to go hungry 'till I get get to the grocer's.

If things go well, I'll have about $65 to spend of food and gas this week, if I'm especially thrifty and don't buy anything else. I went through $40 yesterday, and all I got was gasoline, lunch and dinner (cheap Taco Bell and KFC), a bottle of generic Ibuprofin, a tube of generic linament, a package of soap, a 99 cent body spray--which was surprisingly nice smelling ("New Musk"), some cheap cushy shoe inserts for my poor beleagured feet, and one load of laundry, and a bottle of Arizona brand sweet (iced) tea. God, how do I manage? I am thinking about putting a hair dryer and a pair of jeans on layaway at the department store...I am sick of going out with wet hair, and I've lost so much weight, my jeans are quite literally starting to fall off of me (can't walk without constantly pulling up my pants--if I'm not wearing my stirrup leather/belt, that is). Did I mention that poverty stinks?

Didn't do much last night...of course I wrote a bit before bed, to help me sleep (same effect as reading before bedtime has on me--or a glass of milk). I spend about anywhere from 40 to 60 percent of my working day, just picking up trash and hauling big bags of garbage around, and boy--do I feel beat by the end of the night. When I say that I have no future, think about that.

Well, the nice thing for me is, is that there's a Dr. Who mini marathon on tonight...and maybe...no ball game. We'll see if I can manage to get to a TV set for a bit. Never seen most of the new DW episodes, so this could be nice..or I can spend the night in misery, know DW is on, and I can't watch it. Ah well...I'm afraid I'm getting a little use to disapointments, nowadays. I almost don't even care about anything much, anymore. Not feeling sorry for myself when I say that...it's just the way I honestly feel...mom got that way, in the last few months of her life. When your future looks hopeless, you begin to not care so much about the things that used to matter to you...it's true.

I know that I shouldn't obsess too much with writing, or DW, or this blog. It's just...well, it's literally all I have. That and the cats. I feel so...empty, inside. Used up by life and spit out again. I've become everything I swore I never would be, and it's a sickening feeling, I must tell you. I watched my dad hate his job, hate his very life, day in and day out for decades, and I swore that it wouldn't happen to me...so, guess what? Yep.

Well, at least the cats are happy. They're running around the flat today like a bunch of kittens. I understand that I am, in many ways, luckier that a lot of other people. I've had some true life adventures, been places, for 6 months I worked in my dream job once, and I've had some wonderful opportunities in the past...but sometimes, I think this knowlege only makes me feel worse...does that make sense? I don't know...

Nancy's thought for the day:

If humor is the "sunshine of the mind," then sarcasim is the mushroom cloud.

2006-06-15T10:56:00.000-04:00

The key to happiness: Retire!

Actually, what I mean is, to me, the key to true happiness is quietude. To me, happiness has more of a retired nature. It is an enemy to noise and haste. I more or less believe that true happiness is mostly one's state of mind. To me, true happiness has its foundations within the heart. For me, some of my greatest moments of peace and serenity, contentment and love, have come from the simplest sources---a lovely sunset, playing with my dog or one of my cats, a good conversation with a friend over a truly great cup of coffee, sitting outside listening to a soft rain, having dinner with my mom, riding a horse, fishing by the lake in the morning, going for a Sunday drive...little things. These moments are usually too short, and pass on through your life rather quickly...but they stay inside your soul forever...they almost, in a way, become a part of who you are as a human being.

I do my best to find little bits of happiness in the course of my day--sometimes it can be a bit of a challenge. Last night at work, I talked for a little bit with my friend--shared some jokes and laughter. I came up with some more ideas for my short story and paused for a moment going between buildings to enjoy the sounds of the water playing from the infield fountains, and the frogs singing and a distant meadowlark singing (or was it a mockingbird?). When you hate your job, it's hard finding pleasure some nights...so I take it when it comes and try to appreciate it.

Last night wasn't a great night, but it wasn't awful, either. I got a hernia bending over picking up trash in the judges stand on the roof. Then, towards the end of the night, I kept popping a tendon in my foot--both very, very painful. Hernias feel funky...it can be very disconcerting feeling one's inards moving around inside you. But at least the rain was minimal, for a change and I got home in good time for once. However, my horoscope in the afternoon paper was rather dismal, to say the least. But, at least it didn't say something stupid, like I would be going out an having a good time with friends this weekend--yeah, like that's ever going to happen any time soon.

Well, made myself a nice lunch for a change, anyway. Steak and eggs and homefries, with sweet (iced) tea. My computer's been acting all wonky. I went into MS Word to make a slight change to my story, and a message came up that there was a serious error and it was closing the program...damn--just when I was getting to the part about introducing another Galifreyian survivor...oh well, no use crying over lost work. Maybe I'll just write something else, unless I can figure out a way to recover the lost file. Not that big a deal honestly, truth to tell, I'm not much of a story writer anyway, but...I was rather enjoying myself with this one. Maybe I should just stick to bad poetry, ha-ha.

I'm desperately in need of finding some insurance. The fine my lovely state imposes on non-insured vechicles in horrendous...and me in the poverty-level income bracket...(very huge sigh).

God...please, if you really do exist, why can't I get a REAL job? Something where I can support myself and pay all my nasty bills on time? Is that too much to ask? I guess I don't care if I don't get to go out, really. I guess I can live without televison or new books to read. I don't care that much, if I don't have decent furniture or regular hair cuts or a reasonably new pair of jeans, but I do care about not being swallowed up whole by my debts and eating decent meals every day (as oppsed to once every few days now), and having enough gas for the car to go to work with... How 'bout it, God, gimme' a break, ey? (Somehow, I'm not sure he's bothering to listen to me, anymore.)

A quote for today:

"The ugliest of trades have their moments of pleasure."--Ralph Waldo Emerson

A quote by someone who obviously never had to stuggle to lift a very heavy, very leaky bag of garbage shoulder height into a very tall dumpster, or who ever had fallen into a manure spreader (don't ask), ha-ha. NBG

2006-06-14T10:55:00.000-04:00

Tho' I haven't had a plethora of friends in my life, the ones I've had, have enriched my life completely, and filled an important space inside my heart.

Friendship, to me, doesn't always come easy. I'll talk your ear off if you let me...but I guard my true self very jelously. It's why in college, I suppose, that I found writing to be ten times easier than acting. In print, for some reason, I can open up much more easily (still hard, though) than if I have to just stand there and dig it out of myself johnny-on-the-spot. so it's hard for me to form close ties to anyone.

To me, an intimate friendship is like a sacred trust, one that should never, ever be trifled with. A deep friendship is one a don't take lightly, and one I tend to persue in infinitesmal care--and one I'm afraid I haven't persued very often. ----what the heck was that noise????

Sorry, just heart a weird howling-type noise from somewhere outside. Be right back. No worries. Just a truck...looks like a problem with his brakes or something, he's out looking under his tires...totally odd noise though. Grew up near a four-lane highway on a hill, but never heard a noise like that. Those logging trucks aren't the safest things on the road...or so I've heard from guys who have driven them.

Where was I? Oh yes...friendship. Forming friendships is a tricky business for me...I tend to be very cautious. Maybe too cautious...but I've had things go sour occaisionally, or been taken advantage of, and simply have had a lot of people leave or die, and I'm afraid it goes hard on me, when that happens...although my skin is a lot thicker than it used to be. Ideally, I suppose, one should choose close friends who have the qualities you would like most to see in yourself (whether you have them or not, is another issue altogether). The worst kind of friendship is that kind where one or the other party only forms said friendship with their own personal gain in mind. I've experienced that quite a bit...don't like it very much. It's not true friendship, is it? It's...just a "fax" type of friendship...a carbon copy, if you will. That's the kind of association that blows away in the wind, at the first sign of one of life's storms.

Ah, but I'm getting a little too serious, today, aren't I?

I write about friendships because one of my friends called me this morning. She in the hospital. Was thrown from her horse, has a couple of broken ribs and a broken leg...compound fracture, no less. Can't visit her, because it happened while she was at some horse show in Ohio, and now she's stuck there for a few days. I don't see C___very often, anymore. In fact, haven't seen her at all since I went out to dinner with her and her guy friend well over two years ago, in New York City. In fact, this is the first time we've spoken since just before my mom's funeral. She's quite busy, doing the horses and she also runs a home business and is on the road a lot, between the horses and selling stuff. We got to chatting about things, the race track and accidents we'd seen or heard about. I told her the story of how this race groom walked up to the EMT on the backstretch one night, the groom's head completely covered with blood--how the EMT panics and calls other emergency medical people and the ambulance--only to find out that the groom is covered in red iodine, not blood! Oh, we had a laugh over that one, and shared other funny stories relating to stablecare and it's pitfalls. Talking with friends always makes you feel better, no matter what the situation.

Well, have to put the blog away for the day, loads of things to do. I made a slight faux paux last night. Left a few comments on some different blogs I was reading, only put the URL of this blog down (I was rather tired last night) instead of the URL of my formal web page. Ah, well, the chances of anyone actually persuing my URL are probably pretty much between slim and none, anyway. Still, I don't want people to read this and think I"m totally fruitloops...or am I? Maybe I should have called this blog "Insights from a fruitcake," ha-ha.

2006-06-13T02:16:00.000-04:00

Like a huge home-grown tomato nutured from one tiny seed, perhaps some good times will grow out of my bad times, someday.

Maybe the VCR breaking is God's way of saying I'm too idle, or maybe it's just more bad luck...who knows? Another thing to add to my fantasy "wishlist," I guess.

I wish my life was a fantasy. If my life were a reality show, it'd be a real doozy. Or a real snoozy, ha-ha.

The DW story is rolling along--except that I'm stuck on finding a name for the EB (evil being). I suppose I'll think of something, eventually. And if not---maybe I'll name it an "EEBEE", ha-ha. I love writing fan fiction--although I haven't actually done any, in over 15 years--because the main characters are already there...I only have to worry about captureing their essance, and don't have to work a character from scratch, like a regular short story. Worked on re-vamping my resume--not that it'll probably do much good, but gotta' stay in practice. Anyway, I don't write much fiction at all, as a rule. About one short story a year or maybe one every other year. Mostly I've writen essays and feature stories, short plays...some poetry and journal entries, plus some press releases and speeches. But not much fiction, not very good at it--at least that's my belief.

My fiction tends to be the opposite, strangely enough, of what I actually like to read. My fiction can sometimes be dry and tedious...at least I think so. But fan fiction is different, because the characters and even some of the settings, are already there--I'm so familar and comfortable with them already, that the story almost writes itself. That's a big plus for me. I've mostly written Who fiction, but also a couple of stories from the 80's CBS detective show, Simon and Simon, and, once, a fan piece for the old show, The Hardy Boys--my first, when I was in high school. Oh yeah, and a fan fiction piece for Battlestar Galatica (the original series) and also the 80's show, The Equalizer. I write original stuff, too, but it's really dry and not very good, and lots of times I don't even bother finishing it. I have a short story, a mystery, that I've been stopping and starting on for over a year, now. Don't think it'll ever get done. :) No one--I mean, no one, has read any of my fiction since 1987. Except for schoolwork, of course. But I only had to write one story in all of five years of college, so that doesn't really count. Do plays count?

One of the highlights of my college years, was during my broadcast writing class. For my final project, I choose to segway my playwriting class with my journalism class. I wrote, directed and co-produced a 20-minute radio play, a comedy. It was kind of lame on the humor, but my acting buddies did a simply incredible job--even my sound effects guy did great. The head of the college's radio studio was an unbelieveable help--with NO rehersals and only 15 minutes prep time, we only had to do two takes, and I find that simply amazing! Plus, and I and all my people all had a great time--I got an A in Broadcast writing and playwriting..and won a scholastic award in theater for my efforts. It was a great semester, that year, the best I ever had. Broadcast writing is the hardest thing I ever had to do--writing things down--and recording them-- quite literally, to the very minute--hair-raising. As a matter of fact, I think that's when I started noticeing those grey hairs at my temples, ha-ha. The only writing that ever gave me a migrane was broadcast writing--and, sometimes, when I was writing a story for my other college's newspaper, trying to write a catchy lead...ugh! I hate writing leads! ...but, that's another story.

I have to try and get some sleep. Why is it, when you know you have to get up at the crack of dawn, you can't sleep? Happens every week. When I know I can sleep in a little bit---bam! I'm asleep. I have to get up at 4:30 am (EST), and...WIDE AWAKE, thank you very much. Murphy's law, I guess--when you need to sleep, you can't. When you can sleep in--no problemo.

It's been hard on me, lately. Over the last few years, I had the care of my sick parents and college, and other things to occupy me and help me feel like I was doing something with my life--going somewhere. Now---nothing. It's hard. On top of that, I'm trapped in poverty, like never before. Before, I had relatives to lean on...now, no one, really. My sister's nearly as broke as I am--her guy won't let her work (the same guy that made her get a boob job--don't ask). My friend, L___, has been a peach, but, she's not that close to me. We haven't even seen each other in over a year. I am blessed to know her, but I don't feel--will never entirely feel--comfortable sharing my burdens with her. I really am tired of my life, and I wish I could just make it all go away somewhere--but, this is the real world, and I can't.

On the news front: Old GB wants Iraqis to "take more responsibility." Ha! This from a man who went AWOL from duty in the military, did drugs in college, refuses to read a newspaper, lied repeatedly about reasons for going to war and can't even admit he's made a mistake until he drops below forty in the polls...in the words of Austin Powers, "Riiiight." The National Weather Service told Florida not to panic, that the storm was only a tropical storm, then they issue hurricane warnings...now it's a tropical storm again...make up your minds, fellas! Talk about trying to cover all the bases, sheesh! Locally: another guy killed from my old town of Corinth. It's a small (former) mill town in the southern Adirondacks. Strictly blue collar, still...although they seem to be trying to yuppie-fy lately, with some fancy stores and such. One building is entirely decorated with snowshoes, porch to eaves. Anyway, with bars outnumbering churches, there's a lot of drinking problems. So, there's also a lot of DWI deaths. Didn't know this guy, though.

Have to sign off, my blog is acting weird again. Just froze and then started publishing or something, then went back to normal again--entirely on its own. Too weird for words.

4:24 PM (EST):

Honey, I'm Hooome! Whoops, no one here but me...well, at least the cats are glad to see me, anyway. Landlord left a note pasted to my door--"garbage pick up is at 7 am tommorow!" Guess I'll have to do the nasty tonight then, won't I? I'm noshing on some chicken and spaghetti for dinner--yum! The sauce is fab. Tuesdays is my only 1st shift day, so I always try to put something in the slow cooker before I leave the house in the morning--that way no worries about cooking dinner. This sauce is a bit spicer that what I'd normally like, but it works...it's really good. The local butcher shop up the road makes it's own sauces, marinades, salad dressings and preserves. The sauce is not too chunky nor is it too thin. Nice blend of spices, too. Goes great on chicken. With the addition of a little mozzerella cheese on top, and a demi-loaf of fresh baked Italian bread and a tossed green salad--I've got a meal fit for a queen!

I was reading this blog by a guy (assuming he's in the U.K. by his blog) about cafe's in England. It's really interesting reading. I had no idea that the English felt about their greasy spoons, the same way we here in the states do--it's nice...they even call them "greasy spoons, too." I had no idea. I grew up eating in "greasy spoons," heck yes. The one I remember most, of course, was Lou's Diner--even wrote a poem about it, once, a long time ago. It was on the northern border of our village, bordering the 'burb of Port Schuyler. It was one of those vintage 1930's-40's trailer (caravan) type diners, that have suddenly become so chic again with certain types. It came complete with greasy hamburgers and fries (chips), and the scambled eggs were great. My dad used to take us to a place called Cocoa's a lot, It sat next to the railroad tracks, in nearby Watervilet. The diner was a typical 60's establishment. It was awful. They put the greasy, in greasy spoon...but dad liked it 'cause it was cheap. I remember first hearing "King of the Road" playing on the jukebox in there, and buying my dad a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes from the vending machine (60 cents, back then). Later, another diner was put in, just a few doors down...can't recall the name right now...they both were on 21st street---oh yeah, it was Bob's Diner--how could I forget that? The whole family used to eat there(me, sis, mom, dad, brother-in-law)--either altogether, or by pairs or whatever. I loved their turkey club sandwiches...and their homemade pies were to die for. But, sometimes, the food stunk, too--depended on who was doing the cooking and what time of day it was. My cheapskate dad even took us there for Thanksgiving Day dinner once--it was really bad, that time. Bob's was just a little hole in the wall, but the people were friendly and the food was mostly homemade. Speaking of homemade, there used to be a diner called "Home Sweet Home" in Halfmoon, NY. It was torn down, eventually, but they made everything from scratch, and their bread pudding was to die for.

The Miss Albany Diner on broadway in Albany (still there, I think, but different owners now) had great breakfasts--real dockworkers breakfasts. The diner was pretty run down when I used to eat there as a kid, but later it was refurbished for a movie (Ironweed? or some gangster movie? Can't remember) to it's original grand appearance. There is another refurbished diner, the Birdseye Diner on state route 4-A in Castleton, Vermont--don't eat there...it's awful and the prices border the ridiculous. They are nearly the only resturant in town, and you pay for that and the decor...certainly not for the mediocre food...it's a nice place from the outside though...very Norman Rockwell.

One place in Vermont that I love the most, is a little cafe in Fairhaven, right across the street from Carl Durfee's Clothing Store, and just down from the village green. It's called "The Wooden Soldier." The has got to be the #1 very best greasy spoon I've EVER eaten at. They make everything right from scratch. The cream of tomato soup is lovely--smooth, creamy and just a tiny bit sweet, not too tart. They roast their own turkey, and the turkey sandwiches are made right from the roast. The prices are excellent, as well. The wonderful breakfast selections would fil the stomach of the heftiest New England farmer. The resturant has been there for years, and is just off of Exit 2 of Route 4, just across the border from Hampton, NY. And, there's another pretty good truckstop in Hampton, that I used to go to, sometimes..especially for breakfast. It's the Big Apple Truck Stop, right in the heart of nowhere. They've also got good homemade soups, great pancakes and sausage, and fairly good burgers, too. I really like little mom and pop diners, sometimes they're awful, and sometimes--sometimes they are a true gem.

Food here in the north country (Southern Adirondacks) can be pretty bad. There was a diner within walking distance where I lived in Lake Luzerne. It was called simply "Forth Lake Diner" (probably because it was indeed, in Forth Lake). They used to serve the very best breakfast--2 eggs any way you want them, kilbasi, bacon or sausage (your choice), with toast and homefries (potatoes)...all for under $5. Unfortunately, someone new took it over, and, quite frankly, she can't cook worth a darn. It's really, really bad, now, even though the menu's basically the same. We had another diner in my hometown that I sometimes went to as a kid--I don't know if it even had a name--it was (and I believe, still is) at the Regional Farmer's Market. Very good hearty breakfasts, cheap, too. My hometown had another diner, but it was a typical Greek diner--a huge multi-page menu featuring practiaclly everything--from gourmet, to ethnic, to junk food to diet plates--along with a cranky old Greek couple to go with it. Most Greek diners are exactly the same, around here: Menands Diner, Latham 76 Diner, Halfmoon Diner, Spa City Diner--all are carbon copies of the other...go to one, you go to them all. The food usually isn't half bad, and portions are often generous--but beware of food poisoning (I speak from actual personal experience).

I'd like to find a book someday, that this Davies fellow has written. It seems he's some kind of writer over across the big pond...I think. His blogs are quite engaging. His name sounds remarkably familar, but I don't recall ever reading anything by him...well now--I suppose it will come to me, eventually. Anyway, reading his blog, made me take a short stroll down a culinary memory lane--and I enjoyed it...but pork and beans, thick french fries, eggs sunny side up and thick slabs of bacon for breakfast? Hmmm...sounds...intriquing. Not as odd as some of the stuff the Dutch eat....chocolate sprinkles on bread for breakfast? Hard boiled eggs, not cooked eggs, too. But then again, the Dutch like mayonnaise ("sauce" they call it) on their French fries (chips), and put curry in their catsup...what does that tell you, ey?

Anyway, boring day at work. Tuesdays usually are. Not much trash on Tuesdays...and throwing out trash takes up probably a good 45 percent of my day--if not more. So Tuesdays, I usually dawdle around a lot--not 'cause I want to, but they (mgt.) don't need me in the casino, and there's only just so much you can do in the offices in the daytime, when people are working. Usually, I just sweep and vaccum and dust on Tuesdays...I have two offices that I don't do the rest of the week, just Tuesdays, but today I couldn't get in to clean the casino's security office, so that made my day drag out longer...and the folks in the racing office said not to bother vaccuming today...so that dragged out my day even further...(sigh). It was a lovely day, weatherwise, so I spent some of my "free" time sitting on the benches trackside, catching the warmth of a sun none of us were sure we would ever see again, watching the grooms excercising the horses around the track on their jog carts and the trainers in the bucket of their racing bikes, schooling at a good clip around the track. (Both workouts and racing are counterclockwise around the track in harness racing, slower gaits are done clockwise, so you have horses going in both directions on a busy day/night.) We were talking about a big chesnut horse that was really beautiful and going great guns around the track. One of the other workers asked, "Which one is that? They're all brown to me." I found that hilarious. (Standardbreds are mostly bay, brown or black. But there are also plenty of chesnuts, roans and greys.) Me and an office worker in the race office were talking about a certain driver. I like the man, but I take it he can have a bit of a temper, when he wants to. I told the lady in the office, how my friends mother calls this driver (like quite a few race drivers, he's kind of a hyperactive little guy) her "little butterfly." She laughed and said, "oh, he's a butterfly, alright. But he can sting like a bee." (Bit of a paraphase on Muhamad Aly (or however you spell his name--the boxer, I mean).

I was tired when I got home. Think I got all of about an hour's sleep, last night. Had supper, fooled around a bit on this blog, wrote some more stuff into my short story, took out the garbage and went to bed for a long nap. My bad foot hurts like the devil. The break is indeed feeling better, and I'm actually just beginning to walk somewhat like a normal person again, and not like Festus from Gunsmoke. I was hoping to find someone with a VCR to charm into taping the Doctor Who marathon for me on Friday, but no luck. :( Am I EVER going to get to see an entire uninterrupted hour of DW? Guess not. At least, I'm not going to hold my breath or anything. Ah well, I can maybe catch some of it at work--never seen several episodes at all, and never the first one, "Rose," and only bits and pieces of a few others, five or ten minutes snatched on the sly at great risk to my employment, I may add, from TV's in the offices. Think the only episode I saw the whole way through, so far (kind of, anyway) was part one of the Unknown Child. Of course, seeing DW on Friday all hinges on whether or not the Yankees or Mets are playing or wheter there's some sports playoff...the guys totally hog the employee lounge TV set when it comes to sports--but many of the men around here are pigs, anyway, so no surprise there. But I have to be careful not to get caught watching TV in the offices..even though I do actually work while watching...don't just lean on a desk staring at the screen, honest. I managed to see the famous naked Captain Jack scene and the flying Daleks this way. But, I don't want to become so obsessed with the show out of my longing and boredom, that I really do lose my job--how lame would that be, losing your job over a TV show? A great TV show, but still, not a wonderful thing to show up on a prospective new employers inquiry.."why was she sacked?" "We caught her watching Daleks." No, I don't think so. Though, that would be one of the more...unique reasons for losing one's job, in history.

Well, suppose I'm just rattling on now. But, since less than a dozen people a week read this, I'm not going to worry about my writing or my writing style, or about talking about nothing special...it's something that makes me feel less isolated and helps aleviate the boredom, so who cares if this blog is hopeless boring. I like it that way...it's....me.

Quote for the day:

"Bore: A person who talks when you wish him to listen."--From: The Devil's Dictionary by Ambrose Bierce.

2006-06-12T12:12:00.000-04:00

What if one day of your life could be like a James Bond movie? Or, in my case, I'd probably settle for On Golden Pond, ha-ha.

What if, for just one day, you didn't have to pay a bill, or do laundry, or go shopping or go to work? What if, just one day, you had to fly to casino in Monte Carlo to retreive a vital document from another gorgeous spy, all the while, dining on exquisite food, driving expensive cars and wearing the trendiest clothing? Or, in my case, what if I just spent the day in a rowboat, chatting about nothing special with some other old fart?

Yes, it's Monday. A day off that's not really a day off. Have to pay a bill, do the laundry, go shopping, go to the post office and several other things. Gosh, I hate Mondays. Does anyone really like Mondays, I wonder? I suppose you might, if you really loved your job, but I'm talking about the rest of us.

I'm tired, I still hurt all over and I have to go back to work tommorrow morning. I'm feeling a tad grouchy today. I would love just one more day's rest, but not going to get it. Even the smooth jazz I'm listening to is giving me a headache. Ah well, life's not fair and I guess that I'll just have to live with it, right?

I was thinking about how when I was in my teens, how I'd get up at four in the morning in the late Spring, and walk out to the field next door, and just stand there watching the sun rise over the hills of the Upper Hudson Valley. I'd go out barefoot, the dew soaking my feet and the bottoms of my jeans. A few crickets would be chirrping for all they were worth, but no other sound, except maybe the occaisional car whoshing by up the hill on the distant highway. The lights would all be on, at the regional farmer's market, down the hill in the village proper. I might stroll over to one of the few ancient apple trees that were still left standing, and sit in it. From near total darkness, the sky would gradually get brighter by inches. Then, one robin would chirp tentitively...followed by another, and yet another...then, the chirrping would burst simultainiously into full-throated song. It was friggin' fantastic. Later, maybe a mourning dove would coo, or one of those big ol' pileated woodpeckers would start it's loud tapping on one of the long dead elm trees. Then the sky would change from pale blue to pink to fire engine red, as the bold summer sun came bursting from the bottom of the earth. And I alone, was witness to the wonder.

Now, I sit inside on a sunny day, writing in my boring blog, feeling tired and worn and not caring if it's a nice day outside or not--other than the fact that at least I don't have to worry about not having windshield wipers....what happened to me? I'm genuinely getting old before my time, and I haven't a clue what to do--if there is actally anything I can do--about it.

I'm afraid I'm not much of a night person, never have been, really. It's rough working nights, especially at a worthless job that's doing nothing for me (or anyone else). I'm listening to Bella Fleck's piece, "Big Country," and I feel like crying. This song is how I used to feel...wide and open and free...full of hope and promise and caring. My life seemed like a never-ending open road. Now I am living in a shadow world, full of crushed dreams and no promise for a better tommorrow. I can't even go for a drive in the country, without worrying about the cost of gas. I am a prisoner in my own life and its wearing me down a little each day. Every road seems a back alley or a dead end.

When I write, sometimes I get a tiny touch of the old feeling back, like this stupid DW story that no one's ever going read or care about. Even then, I wonder why I bother. Why? No one reads this stuff, no one ever comes to visit. Seldom does anyone invite me to join them in conversation. I am not much fun to be around, I guess. I've gotten very negative lately, and can't seem to stop myself. My negativity brakes aren't working properly. Who wants to hang out with a depressed, negative and generally unhappy person? I'm getting so, I don't want to look for a new job anymore, or even go outside. I don't like myself anymore, don't like what I'm turning into. But, I feel like someone whose foot is caught on the railway track and is staring down at the headlight of an oncoming train---helpless to stop disaster.

I do try to find little positives in my life, but lately, it's getting to be more and more of an effort. I mean, I say, I hate my job--but at least I get to be close to horses/horse people...I hate what I'm having for dinner, but at least it's not frozen turkey burgers again (unless, of course they are)....I hate my hair, but at least I own a pair of scissors...stuff like that...but it is a perpetual challenge trying to keep from going off the deep end, some days anyway.

For the last 5 or 6 years, I've been striving to give myself a chance at a future--and it was entirely in vain. Five years for nothing. For the working poor, there is NO future...only more hardship and suffering until you finally breathe your last. It never stops--at least, not for long. There's always something going wrong. You get caught up with one problem...and a little while later, something just as bad, or maybe worse, happens...over and over again. It never stops.

The working poor live on a tightrope: one side is hell, the other homelessness, and beneath you...an eternity of nothingness. Someone once said that poverty wasn't a sin--but it ain't no fun, either!

Unfortunately, I live in a country that's all about outer images: beautiful bodies, trendy clothes, fancy cars, the latest gadgets. And, I'm fat, ugly, haven't done any serious clothes shopping since 2004, haven't had a proper haircut since Christmas eve, have no clue as to proper makeup these days, I drive a broken-down 95 New Yorker, don't own a CD player or a cell phone or an Ipod, and have no clue what the heck a blackberry is, get one TV station (sometimes), don't own a couch or matching chairs (one of my chairs is, in fact, a plastic lawn chair with a fancy cushion on the seat), and my dinnerware is only for two--because I couldn't afford a set of four. I have a college education but clean urinals for a living, I haven't been to a movie since August of 2005, Not gone out with friends since April of 2005, Haven't sat down for a proper meal in a resturant since New Year's day, I've never been out dancing, or have been for a manicure, or anything normal women are supposed to do. I sometimes feel like an outcast in my own country.

You know, because of the way I dress, I've been followed around in local stores? Even though it has never in my life, EVER occured to me to shoplift. I'd no more shoplift than I'd smoke a joint. Oh, yeah, and many of my peers look at me funny because I have never had the desire to drink or smoke pot. Hey, I just don't want to. It's that simple. But, it's not trendy in my generation to "just say no." I've actually had to lie about pot, say "yeah, I tried it, but didn't like it," just to get them (peers) to leave me the heck alone about it! I'm not sure why it was so important to them to get me to transgress my own common sense, but...sometimes my fellow Americans are a little shortchanged in the common sense department, these days. The thing is with me, I just am not comfortable, unless I can just be ME. I've always made my own paths to follow--maybe that's my problem. I can't find my path, anymore...I don't know entirely just who I am, anymore...if that makes any sense, I don't know.

Because I've chosen not to date anymore (don't ask--but believe me, I've got my good reasons), I had one person insist that I should "come out." Excuse me? Trust me, I'm not coming out, anytime soon. It's true, some of my best friends have been gay, but just because someone doesn't want to date a guy, and hangs out with queers sometimes, doesn't a gay make. I just have had enough and decided to quit while I was ahead. Although, I did get an e-mail today, that said, "women in your area are waitning to meet you:" Either they are confused about my gender or there's an Avon lady convention in town, ha-ha.

My sister and her guy are both ultra-conservative, security paranoid, racist, narrow minded homophobes...I made a joke about coming out, and you should have heard their reaction! Her guy friend is nice in his own way, but I'm glad he doesn't like driving in New York (can't take his gun with him--no joke). Let Vermont have them both, I say. Stay home on your mountain and vegitate, for all I care, just stay away from me....I'm alergic to conservatives!

Well, I've said my bit for now. No one reads this, so I can just let it all hang out today, and say whatever I feel. And that's how I feel, today. I'm worried about money, my car, my job, my homelife (losing my place to live), becoming far too obsessed with writing and Dr. Who, my future, my health, having enough food to eat, the cats...is there nothing to NOT worry about, anymore...good God! I realized just now...I'm turning into my mother! She was a professional worrier. She'd worry about things that hadn't even happened and might never happen...am I turning into her? Yikes! Think I'll leave my thoughts there, for now...not sure I want to carry this on, any further, ha-ha.

Oh, and every once in a blue moon (have to wait 'till late fall or the dead of winter for one of those again) I place links to favorite blogs in my entries...today's no exception. Here two links to blogs that I only recently discovered....they're wonderful, and I've enjoyed reading them to no end.

http://russelldavies.typepad.com/eggbaconchipsandbeans/2006/03/audio_breakfast.html

And...

http://loggedhours.blogspot.com/

Well, guess it's time for my thought for the day.

If your soul only has one dimention, it will become very flat indeed.

ADDENDUM:

You (assuming some soul is actually reading this far--- or even reading this, period) may not want to read this on the bottom. But, I need to vent--right now. Because if I hold this in, I'm only going to make myself ill.

All I wanted tonight...all I wanted...was to watch a used VCR tape that I bought for a buck at a going out of business sale today...it's not like I haven't seen the movie before, but it's one I hadn't seen in years, and not one of my own tapes (that' Ive literally seen dozens of times before)--only, the VCR my friend gave me, suddenly it isn't working anymore. Oh, it turns on and plays...just no picture or sound. Tried everything I could think of...checked connections, batteries, etc...nope. It's broken. I hate my life. I really would just like out, now, God, if that's not too much trouble for you. I can't even watch a frickin' movie for pete's sake! I feel so utterly trapped. I honestly know how a prisoner feels. I am so incredibly bored and feel so totally useless. Taking out trash for a living just isn't cutting it for me, anymore. I go to work, I come home, I write stupid stuff or read or pick up the flat or do dishes or run errands...and every single day is just the same as the other...there's nothing there anymore. I really want OUT God...please. Please God, get me out of this life! I don't know what sins I committed to deserve this, but I'll repent, anything, just get me out of this horror. I've become everything I never wanted to be, and I hate every second of every day. Please God...oh and God, thanks for letting me hurt yet another part of my body, I really appreciate you looking out for me. I think mom, when she passed on, got the better end of the deal.

2006-06-11T01:26:00.000-04:00

Definately a Ying-Yang day on Saturday.

Why? Well, let's see....it started with a bad nightmare...followed later by a good dream. At work, I finally got to be treated to a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy episode--my first in over a year (don't have cable, remember). But later on, got saddled with carting out over 200 lbs worth of racing programs and papers to the dumpster and didn't get to finish my work (they don't pay for overtime at my work). For the first time all week, I had a dry night at work--(no rain, no puddles, not too hot or too cold)...only, literally---the minute I get on the interstate going home, it starts raining, and rains all the way home. Most certainly both a good and bad kind of day.

I do enjoy watching the guys from Queer Eye. They are just so much fun and seem so charming and engaging. I've really really missed this show. It was about the only show on cable where I used to drop everything just to watch it...I generally dislike a lot of the TV that's on these days--and I positively hate most reality shows, so that's saying something about these truly cool gentlemen.

During my dinner break, clear out of the blue, I came up with some great brainstorming ideas for my Doctor Who story. I haven't written fiction like this in quite long time, and forgot how fun and exciting it can get--especially when you have a million ideas popping into your head, and no writer's block to contend with. Initally, I had planned on simply deleting it from my files when it was done...but don't know now...have to wait and see how it turns out, I guess. I may save it just to have it to call my own. I think the Doctor and Rose are going to be in for a few surprises...I know I've been surprising myself with some of the ideas that have been popping into my head.

You see, as a writer, although I enjoy it always, I do frequently find writing an awful lot of work, sometimes..quite often, there's no inspiration, you just do your best to grab a reader's attention with good descriptions, good flow and good copy. And yet, once in a while, sometimes...well, sometimes something very special happens: you start writing a piece, and zap! Suddenly, the work almost seems to be writing itself. You don't know where it's coming from, it just...is. The story seems to take on a life of it's own, it becomes almost like a living thing...and the wonder, the real wonder of it all, is that it's coming from somewhere inside you. The feeling, umm--well, it's brillant! It's utterly fanstastic and amazing. And the work may not be a Pulitzer Prize in the making, but it's coming from your head and your heart...and possibly your soul, as well. And it feels absolutely fantastic when it's happening. Gosh, honestly, I haven't had this much fun writing a story since I was in high school. It's the one thing that is truly positive in my life right now. About the only thing, really.

I am so incredibly worried...I just know something really bad is bound to happen. It's been more than 2 years of bad stuff, bad stuff and even more bad stuff...and with this black cloud seemingly perpetually over my head (pun intended), I just can't bring myself to feel positive for any long stretch of time these days--as hard as I genuinely do try.

LATER: (1:36 PM EST)

I just now read an E message from a reader. Don't get many of those. It seems that I've attacted a fellow Whovian--or anorak, if you're a Brit. I wasn't expecting that, so I was a bit surprised. I didn't think that many people knew what I've been talking about, when I mention the show on this blog, (didn't even know anybody in particular has been reading this blog at all, honestly) guess that asumption was incorrect. But, anyway, to get back to the point, this young man has asked if I was going to put my Doctor Who story on my blog or some other website. The answer is, no. Sorry, but no plans for this piece, other than I might save it rather than delete it like I usually do with most of my stories when they're done. But, on reflection, I've decided that I'll compromise. I will put here, just this one time, literally the last paragraph that I wrote--fresh from MS Word, written about 30 minutes ago. Here it is: (It's a short paragraph, so if you don't like Doctor Who, or aren't at all familar with the show, just skip it.)

The saloon was not only empty, it simply didn’t exist. The Doctor stared down at the brush and tumbleweeds at his feet. He looked up and saw dun-coloured rocks and the hazy blue outline of mountain peaks in the far distance. Suddenly, he felt the ground tremble. A sound like thunder reverberated in the distance, a growing rumble that began to shake the very ground on which the Doctor stood. “An earthquake?” He asked himself. As the rumbling grew increasingly louder, it was punctuated by wild bawling. The Doctor gasped with sudden realization. “Rose!” He whispered with growing horror, and bolted out the door. Through the mounting clouds of dust that filled the air, the Doctor glimpsed Rose, standing fixated with shock, staring down the street. Some forty brindle coloured steers were charging wildly towards her, less than fifty meters from where she stood. And with a cold dread in his hearts, the Doctor knew. He’d never get to her in time. There wasn’t even time to yell at her to run.

Hope that satisfies the young man's curiosity. Honestly, this is just a fun project...like doing the crossword puzzle, or needlepoint (neither of which I'm very good at). I have no illusions as to my writing abilities. I'm an adequate writer and that's okay. I'm not trying to be modest or humble, just totally realistic. In truth, my writer's ego was shot down by someone I deeply respected (as a writer and an aquaitance) a long time ago. I not only got over it, I've learned to simply accept reality, and adjust my attitude accordingly. Nowadays, I just let myself enjoy writing, without the bothersome burden of a massive writer's ego--(well, precious little of that, anyway). Wrting is also a tool, for me. Usually, it's an outlet for my emotions and a pleasant way to pass the time, and...most importantly, it makes me feel...well, like I'm actually doing something. Even if I"m not, really. It's hard to explain, I guess. Anyway, With this story, I am trying to capture the flavor of the show--even to the point of trying to keep the wording and even the words themselves, as close to British as my limited knowlege of both the "new" series and the culture, allows. Only because this makes the piece an added challenge for me...and I do love a writing challenge....okay, usually. I chose a western setting because I grew up adoring westerns...so the story is an amalgamation of my two favorite types of story...which is an added dimention to the fun. If I publish stuff on the net, or anywhere else, it's not so much ego, as it's just trying to reach out to the world, to feel less isolated, I guess. It's why I write this blog. While I really am used to being alone, and have long since learned to live with it...I'd be lying if I said I didn't ever feel lonely or isolated from the world at large. Hey, I'm human. Human beings are like horses...herd animals.

Gosh, I love my Sunday's off. I usually can just sleep in, write, catch up on my housework, if the tourists aren't too thick I might go into town for a stroll, make myself a decent meal for a change, read a book, it's...very pleasant. I do miss going for drives, or checking out out yard sales. But, I have what I have, and must be content with that. Of course, the nicest thing about Sunday is: no job woes (usually), no mail, no phone calls, no bills, no errands (usually)...just can do what I want, and have no worries (because I can't do anything about them on Sundays). Okay, I'm trying very hard not to think about that bad dream that I wrote about, yesterday, too.

Was listening to some jazz while soaking my bad foot, and heard David Sanborn's "Sunshine." You know, not to belittle Sanborne, but the song sounds remarkably like a slowed down version of the Odd Couple theme, by Neil Hefti. Really, I'm not kidding. By the by, here's some bit of TV trivia for you. There's lyrics to the Odd Couple TV Show. They can be found, if you're at all interested, at this link:
http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/televisiontvthemelyrics-50s60s70s/theoddcouple.htm
The deejay must have a thing for TV tunes, as a previous song was a jazzed up version of the Bewitched TV theme. I liked that, it was kind of neat. I haven't heard my fav song lately, by Ramsey Lewis, his jazz rendition of "Oh Happy Day," too bad. I really like that, it makes me feel good just listening to it. Would adore hearing a jazz version of the Dr. Who theme, ha-ha. I heard an nice album today, as well, that I'd never heard before, by Accoustic Alchemy: The Best of Accoustic Alchemy. It's really nice, and would make a great "driving" album, especially for those long drives down country backroads...at least, I believe so.

It's partly sunny for a change, the 50,000 bikers are beginning to putt-putt their various ways out of town, and I had a nice relaxing lunch. Got some writing done. I guess things aren't too bad, today, right? And, I'm happy to say, a friend of mine is planning to call me long distance tonight, someone I've not talked to in a long time. I'm looking forward to that.

While am thinking of it, here's some more links to some of my other favorite blogs:
http://www.doctorwhoblog.com/ (Dr. Who TV show)

http://blog.liberalvoices.com/ (American politics)

http://blog.tcpl.lib.in.us/drupal/ (Books)

http://blog.360.yahoo.com/blog-A7K31ro1fqRdomHQh6oeQ5W59XX0dmFW1w--?cq=1 (Model horses)

http://topicdrift.blogspot.com/2005/02/antiques-roadshow-deceivers-liars.html

(Humor)

And finally, (I nearly forgot) here's a wonderful Dr. Who fan fiction site. I go to it whenever I feel starved for a DW fix. It's got some wonderful writing by fans of the show. http://www.whofic.com/

Just a few, anyway...don't get much chance to read a lot of blogs, but once in a while I find a couple that grab my interest.

Thought for the day:

One rainy day with a good friend, is better than a thousand sunny days alone.

2006-06-10T00:51:00.000-04:00

I've always felt that wanting less was better than wanting more. Greed is the feeding ground of evil...or so it seems to me, sometimes. Not meaning to get all religious or anything, I mean, the more you have, the more you seem to want, right? It's the nature of the human race....look at Caesar, or Genghis Kahn, or Hitler, or Corporate America.

Still, it's hard when you have so little, and you desperately need stuff...and when you're surrounded by rich people who take everything for granted...it's hard. I am sooo tired of poverty. You have no idea.

Took me over an hour longer to get home tonight, due to the rain, and several times I went off of the road. I've driven 50 miles home from Vermont on a narrow two-lane blacktop in a blinding blizzard, and tonight, was just as bad, believe me...in fact, worse, because I never once lost the road in the blizzard--even though visibility was down to a foot or two...tonight, the windsheild got so bad, I could see zero. The way the rain was, sometimes, it was like trying to look through pebbled glass...rough trip. Sometimes, I don't know how I keep going...

When we were kids, my mom gave us a pile of old 45 records to play with. There was one, that was a favorite of my sister's, the flip side of the single "Johnny Angel," titled (I think) "When's it gonna' get me?" Well, I'm starting to feel like that song should become my own personal anthem. Just once, just for one more time...I would love some good news...I mean REAL good news. (Huge sigh.)

My student loans are coming due, and I've no money. I still owe $500 for mom's funeral, no car insurance in a few more days, unless I can find something....car wouldn't go in reverse at first, this morning..it's really starting to go...and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it, I still owe the landlord's $650, I'm only supposed to have 2 cats--I still have all 7, my body (and spirit) is really taking punishment from this job--some nights I can barely walk to the car afterwards. Why am I here? What's it all for? Why do I even bother? Is this living? Who cares, right? Why care? Nobody reads this stupid stuff I write, why should they? Who am I? Nobody. Just Nancy is nobody. I can't say just how much I really do hate myself tonight. I just don't see anything ever getting better. I'm going to die penniless and alone in a pauper's grave...almost like my mom did..and that's not anything to look forward to.

I mean, look at me. I'm just a fat, dumpy forty-something, with no future, no lovelife (ever), no money, a lousy personality (sometimes, like right now), no family(to speak of), no possessions of any real value. Nothing. Who the heck wants to read what I write? This is reality. It ain't no TV show. Reality is hard, it hurts and it's just bad news.

I feel so incredibly useless. I am so good on the phones, and with helping people==but can't get a job doing what I do best, because---and let's face it, they're (employers) right: I'm a loser. Right at this very moment, I honestly feel like garbage.

Someone told me tonight that I needed a haircut...time to break out those kitchen shears (sigh). Only problem is, I can't see the back of my head too good, and my hands aren't as steady as they used to be.

I don't have much in life to look forward to, so I take things as I can get them. I did catch a couple of minutes of Doctor Who tonight. Only a couple...just wanted a glimpse of a flying Dalek...great special effects and superb acting. Even gave me some tiny bits to add to my current efforts at a DW short story. And, I play cards on the computer: cribbage, euchre, whist, Texas Hold-em, Spades and 7 card stud. I have a little picture puzzle and a train puzzle to fool with, when boredom overcomes me, I have a few DVD's for the computer and a handful of tapes (which I've seen a zillion times already) for the VCR...and I often get one local station on the TV, and, of course, there's my books as well as the internet. So, I do have some more entertainment than I've had at other times. And, sometimes, if I watch my funds, I can treat myself to an ice cream or McDonalds hamburger. And there's always the park on the lake to sit and watch the boats/tourists. I suppose that's more than some people have...still, I do get terribly bored, sometimes. But, I've had my adventures and travel in this lifetime, already, which is more than a lot of people have had...so, maybe I'm just being a spoiled brat for complaining, I don't know...don't know much of anything, anymore.

'Fraid this isn't a very cheery blog, tonight...it's the rain thing with the car..and my job and the money...it's just depressing the heck out of me tonight. Sorry. Maybe tommorrow I'll feel completely different about things, who knows?

ADDENDUM:

7:15 AM:

Well, I had an omen. Don't know if anyone believes in signs, but I've been getting this particular type of "sign" for over 2 decades--and it, unfortunately for me, has yet to be wrong. I have one kind of bad dream...and it is invariably a harbinger of really bad stuff. Since 1983 (the year my parents divorced, all our pets died, my best friend died and we lost our childhood home) I've been having a dream about tornados. I am definately not kidding. Every single time I dream that a tornado is coming....something bad happens...and the more this dream is repeated, the worse the "bad" is. For instance...in the months leading up to my mom's death, tornado dreams...loads of them. Shortly before I lost our home...tornado dreams...multiples. Now, I've had 2 tornado dreams....they always happen in the morning. In this dream, I was at work, doing my job, everyone was happy with my work...next thing you know, me and the EMT's (they employ them where I work) are looking at the radar for our area...everything's fine, just some rain--until: it shows a terrible tornado on the screen. It's headed: naturally, right exactly for us. Next thing I know, I'm packing the cats into some kind of storm shelter, and the tornado/storm is right on my heels....and I wake up sweating and scared, 'cause I know what this dream means and I know from long experience that there's nothing in the world I can do to prevent whatever's about to go down. It may not be today or tommorrow...may not be for weeks, but it IS going to happen. And God, I'm terrified. I'm not joking about this. I'm not making this up, I'm not exaggerating, and I'm not imagining things. This really has beein happening for a long time. I haven't had any bad dreams in many, many weeks. Now, wham-wham! A one-two punch in the space of a week, same type of dream...something really awful is about to happen to me. Eviction? Car gone? Violence? Accident? Am I going to lose a cat/cats? Job loss, heavy bill and/or fine, homelessness, jail (you never know with these dreams), fire or a natural disaster, robbery, death of a close relation or friend, a serious medical problem with me...it could be anything. Maybe the world won't come crashing to its end...but for me, it's the waiting that's hard...and the knowing. This dream has never been wrong...I wish to heaven that it was just a bad dream, oh how I wish....but in over 25 years, it hasn't lied to me yet.

Maybe I'll get lucky and the dream will be prevented from happening, but....I just have a hard time being optimistic with the knowelge of this dream's track record, and of course, everything that's been happening to me.

News: Well, the courts are backing GB all the way...no surpise there, the right-wingers own the country, the courts, the constitution....sieg heil! Heil Bush! Well, that's how I've been feeling about this idiot for years. The man just has no conscience or backbone or tact or much of anything. A vain, immature, shallow person. Worst pres. this country has ever had...and I thought that fruitcake Regan was bad...geez. Almost makes me long to have Nixon back...almost. At least I think Nixon would deal correctly with Iran, which is more than any of the presidents of the last 25 years could do. But hey, that's just my free opinion.

12:13 PM:

Well, another day. Went back to bed for a bit, after writing the above entry. My left knee was hurting, so I took some asprin and propped it up for a few hours. Bursitis I guess, the rainy damp weather is lovely on my joints. Fell asleep, had an interesting dream this time...maybe my mind's way of making up for the nightmare, earlier. Dreamed I'd traveled to an alternate Earth...was boating in the Congo and just lots of weird stuff like that...it was the same time and place, just totally backwards and different, people all had supernatural powers...weird dream, but interesting nonetheless.

Well, was going to put another entry on my playwrite27 tiptop page, but changed my mind. the piece isn't ready yet....a poem. Anyway, around 7 people--total strangers-- have checked out the page in the last day or so...huh, well, whatever. Mr. Happy Hammer is back on the roof today. He'd better not be doing that too early tommorrow, or I'm going to have to ask for a reduction in my rent...this gal is tired and desperately needs to catch up on some sleep.

The motorcycles are roaring by the house in a constant steady stream...they estimate some 50,000 of them are in town this weekend...a town whose normal population I'm told (October through May, roughly) is something close to 15,000. The noise is just awful. I don't blame people for going away for the weekend. The Belmont Stakes is today--won't be the same without Barbaro. I favor Bluegrass Cat. I picked him second for the Kentucky Derby, and was right...think he may have a good shot today, don't know though. Steppenwolfer is looking okay, too, as well as one other horse. I haven't heard about Barbaro, lately. Hope he's recovering okay. What a wonderful horse. The big library in Glens Falls is having their booksale this weekend, want to go, but not sure I can spare the cash, right now. Would be lovely to have something new to read, though. I was trying to save $10 every other week, so I could buy the New Dr. Who videos when they come out, but now that money has to go towards the car. :(

Maybe I shouldn't wish for something good to happen. Maybe all I should do is simply be thankful nothing bad is happening to me right here and now. Maybe that's all there is for me, in this life. Maybe that's all I can hope for. Sometimes my life feels shrouded by perpetual darkness, but hope is a candle that illuminates the musty corners of my soul.

Quote from Keats:

..."When dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope! celestial influence round me shed, waving thy silver pinions o'er my head.---from Hope.

2006-06-09T11:16:00.000-04:00

If nothing else, I can safely tell you that nothing is so valuable in life, than a simple smile.

It's true. Here I was yesterday, feeling down, then my friend E'd me a good joke, and I temporarily forgot my problems--well, and getting a good paycheck for a change didn't hurt either. And, additionally, a smile is the most powerful thing in the universe--besides God and nuclear weapons and mother nature, I mean. You can disarm the most grumpy person with a sincere smile. Smile at someone you don't even know, and chances are, he or she will smile back at you--unless he or she is from New York City, or one of those guards in bearskin hats outside of Buckingham Palace.

I seldom have heard many songs by Sting, outside of top 40 stuff on the radio--not really stuff that I listen to, normally, although I'm sure he's an excellent singer. But today, I heard a song by him that I rather like a great deal. "The Book of my Life." It was on the smooth jazz channel, of all things. Didn't even know who was singing it, until I looked it up. The song had a distinct Arabic flavor. It (the song) reminded me of my time in Egypt. We (the group from the college I was traveling with) were at the Cairo Opera House one night. I kind of like the Arabic music, very melodious, and I watched a movie with a good male singer (a movie with subtitiles) that was funny and had very nice music--I found out that a lot of the musical phrases are repeated, lots of repetition in Arabic music, so the movie gave me a handle on how the music was sung/written...also, I especially enjoyed hearing the various calls to prayer that wafted on the breeze at certain hours of the day--very peaceful and serene. Anyway, there we were, at a live concert of contemporary Arabic music, in this beautiful fancy opera house...and none of us could understand a word of it. Well, the first hour it was fairly pleasant, there was a variety of musicians and dancers to go along with the singing...but the second hour, I must admit, I was getting a bit bored. This guy in an old-fashion tux with slicked back hair comes on stage, stands in front of a 1930's style mic and starts crooning. Now, he was good, but, as I just stated, I was getting rather bored...and tired after 12 hours wandering around pyramids in the desert and riding a bus all day...and hungry, as we hadn't had any dinner (yet again--don't ask). Anyway, I began, quite innocently, substituting English words for whatever the guy was singing, inside my head. It went something like this..."I love you, I love you, why did you leave me darling, why did you leave? My heart is breaking like a chocolate orange...my heart is a chocolate orange..." well, you get the drift. My friend sitting beside me, nudged me and asked what I was smiling about...I explained what I started doing, then she started doing it...next thing you know, we had all we could do to stifle our giggles. Try it sometime, it's actually pretty fun...well, when you're incredibly sick (don't ask) and exhausted and hungry, I guess you learn to take your amusement where you can get it. It's true.

While it's also true that I've not stopped being scared about my financial situation, or ceased being lonely, or stopped hating my job, for today, I'm going to try and just relax and go with the flow.

On the agenda today: (before starting work at 3pm) bank, store, social security office, gas station...and probably won't have time, but try to go to the state employment office to print out some more resumes. It's going to be bad again tonight....last night I was exhausted by 9pm. I'm tired as heck now....working till 11:30, I'm gonna' be toast by tommorrow. Last night, I was soooo incredibly tired, and had to go get gas for the car and shop for groceries before I went home, and the driving was mostly the pits: fog and misty rain that clung to the windshield, making visiblility near impossible sometimes. My friend suggested wiggling the wipers, or hitting the motor box, and that may jolt the wipers back to life--it worked on her truck, anyway. I used to have an old '76 Dodge pick up I was fond of, back around 15 years ago...it was a 3 speed, used to get the gears stuck a lot...till I opened the hood and banged on them with a hammer...seriously. I loved that truck, but the electricals finally gave out....and the body was pretty far gone, too....you could see the ground from the floor of the cab. But that ol' truck ran like a bear...never once had to repair anything, until the electrical problem...oh, except for the muffler, but, that happens.

So, here I am in the lovely Adirondack mountains of northeastern New York state. Elisabeth Brook is babbling merrily away beneath my bedroom window, the birds are singing cherrily, the leaves of the trees wave in the soft breeze, the rain gently drips from the eves... all is quiet and serene--until what seems like the world's loudest fart (forgive the crudeness) rips through the air....Yes, yet another batch of motorcycles...cockroaches with motors..(.sorry if you're a motorcycle fan)...but motorcycles en masse are not conductive to either deep thoughts or a good night's sleep. Did I mention that I hate the Americade rally?

In the news: So Bush got rid of that guy Zarqawi. Greaat...now we'll have one more martyr for the opposition to look up to. The guy wanted to become a martyr against the Bushites, guess he got his wish...more death and destruction, coming up. Not being flip, just disgusted with all of this un-needed nonsense. If they (the Bushites) spend even one tenth of the money here (like in New Orleans or on food pantries or national health or stuff like that) that they spend in Iraq, America would rock, baby, let me tell you.

Well then, I'm sitting here writing in my admittedly boring blog and noshing on frozen Chinese food, when I guess I should be getting ready to go out, so I'll say adios for now.

2006-06-08T11:25:00.000-04:00

What is it they say? Can't win for losin'? I guess that's true. Welcome to my daily glass of whine:

Went into work yesterday, happy to be on time, and not delayed by rain. Called into the manager's office. Now, the day before, someone had gotten into one of my cleaning closets and made a mess...okay, it wasn't absolutely neat as a pin to begin with...but not a disaster area or anything bad like that...until someone knocked some stuff on the floor. I was a bit behind schedule that night, so I left it to be sorted out the next day...only the boss saw it first--figures, right? So I got dressed down for having a messy cleaning closet. The same day the closet incident occured, I had gone to great pains to vaccum every inch of that particular office--only some office worker prig must have found a paper clip or something that I'd missed, and complained loudly..so, I got dressed down for that. Mind, there is one corner of that office, that has no electrical outlets--so I usually have to clean that part literally by hand. This bit of information was imparted on my boss over 2 months ago. I told him again, yesterday. "Why didn't you tell me?" UGH! This guy is really, really nice--but not too swift on the uptake, I gotta' tell ya'....and I'm the one that always pays the price---the boss NEVER listens to a word I say, it's just in one ear and out the other! Next, I was told that I shouldn't leave dirty rags under the Human Resources office sink---only I NEVER have! Those rags have been there since before I ever went to work there! And one of the HR people complained that the cabinet smelled bad--I have no idea why, because I only open and close it when I'm retreiving the toilet bowl cleaner out of there. I never put anything in there, but what was always in there to begin with....but I got nailed for it, anyway. It's bad enough getting dressed down for things that you did---but, I can live with that. It's getting yelled at for things I didn't do--or problems that I told mgt. about ages ago, that really ticks me royally off. Gosh, what I wouldn't give for a different job! I really, really am starting to hate my job--and to think, two months ago, I was okay with my job...didn't mind it at all...now, it's getting to be just like torture. And last night was awful--it was pouring rain, and I have to wear this stupid open-toed sandal-like thingy on my bad foot--my right foot was soaked through for hours. I was pretty wet too, because someone took the last of some supplies out of one of the closets without telling me, and I had to make an extra trip, all the way across the facility in the rain, to get what I needed....did I mention that I really detest my job?

But, it's not all bad news in my life:

Anyway, I am not so bad off this week, anyway. For some reason, I got a bigger check this week, than ever before. Weird, huh? I didn't even work overtime...must've not taken something out this week, that they took out before. Hooray! I was actually able to buy $40 worth of stuff at the store...and a variety of stuff, too, not just whatever was cheapest...so for the first time in months, I really did buy some things that I do enjoy eating, and not stuff that I only sort of like--or hate outright, or that I have to brainstorm recipes for, in order to make the food more palatable. This is great...couldn't get a lot, but it will carry me for about a week, week and a half if I'm very thrifty...and believe you me, I'm becomeing very thrifty indeed. I even had enough left over for some dry cat food that the cats love, and some epsom salts for my bad foot & the bursitis in my knee, and my bad back. Boy, am I gonna' soak in the tub, tonight!

I don't enjoy being cheap. In America, there's three kinds of cheapakates: those (like myself) who are cheap because they have no choice in the matter--and those who have no money woes, and are cheap because they are simply petty tightwads...or, those that may have been poor at one time, and never got over the need for penny-pinching, even though they've got plenty of money to spare now.

Got a great E-mail from my friend, L___. She's the best! She makes me laugh, and we sometimes have a lot in common, and she's really got an interesting life and is caring and sympathethic when I need someone to be...she's listened patiently to my problems, offered advice, and support, too. Even though we haven't physically seen each other in over a year--I am truly, truly blessed to have a friend like her.

I'm told that Paul Newman was at the place where I work tonight, but I didn't see him. Not a fan, anyway, though I hear he's a really great guy. They get occaisional celebs there, sometimes. I walked by some guy that was on Saturday Night Live---or so I was told by a co-worker...haven't watched the show in years, and don't have a clue who the guy was. I'm not much into celebs...there's a few I'd like to meet...and a couple that I am awed by (Derek Jacoby, for one) but overall...I just see them as people, just like you and me--only they're well-known--and usually very rich. I've met a few celebs, but never got all excited about it, the way some people do...guess I'm just not into that kind of thing.

Little Flamey is sitting staight upright in a box, staring at me. She wants me to go to bed--now. I really don't know what gives with her and bedtimes...she hates it when I stay up past what she thinks is a decent hour. This is the most human cat I've ever known. She's partly blind and has a difficult time jumping down from things...and lately has taken to perching on the top edge of the bathroom door...and then whines exactly like a small child, when she can't see to jump back down again. It's the only time she'll let me pick her up without having a major fit about it.

I am having so much fun writing my little Doctor Who story...haven't had this much fun writing anything in nearly a year. Even though I plan on deleteing it from my files when I'm finished, I went ahead and put a sample paragraph on my writing portfolio website...and got a major shock in the process.

You see...and this is very difficult to admit to perfect strangers--and until this very moment, only L__ knows this....I came dangerously close to doing away with myself, shortly before Christmas last year...it was my very first Christmas totally alone, and I was losing our home and couldn't find any work at all, had to drop out of college when I was so close to finishing, I had no heat for the furnace, the hot water heater broke, I was still reeling from mom's sudden death, I was all alone at home (except for the cats) with absolutely no entertainment whatsoever--outside of a radio and my books)...I was just a basket case. L___ came to my rescue, out of the blue, like an angel in one of those sappy TV shows. It was then, though, that I realized that I would be leaving absolutely nothing behind me...no one even know I was gone, and I would have nothing to show for my ever being here. In other words, I was seriously feeling sorry for myself. That's when I dug into all of my writings, and began of series of webpages, as a writing portfolio.

I only did it, to leave something of myself behind, in case anything ever really did actually happen to me. I never intended for anyone to visit the sites on purpose...but somehow, people did. Not many, less than 40 per page, per month...until recently. I haven't put any new stuff on the sites in a couple of months...so, I pulled a single paragraph out of my Doctor Who story, to put on the main writing portfolio page===there have been not hundreds, but over 1000 hits to that particular page ( http://www.tiptopwebsite.com/playwrite27 ) and I am completely speechless! I'm not being modest when I say that my writing is okay, but not super. It's....average. I used to think for a bit--only a bit, mind--that I was a pretty good writer, then one day I woke up and realized with a jolt, that I was merely average. It was hard to take, at first...but I really am okay with that, now. Doesn't bother me at all, anymore...in fact, I'm not sure why it ever bothered me in the first place. I'm just one little guppy in an vast ocean of writers. And you know what? That's just fine by me. I'll keep writing for as long as I enjoy it...and that's what's really important, isn't it?

To close, here's another fine quote from Byron's Don Juan:

"But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thougt produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

I loved this quote, by the way. If you ever get a chance to read Don Juan, do so by all means. It's brillant, terriffic, fantastic!

2006-06-07T01:10:00.000-04:00

They say the best apples are in the highest tree. Maybe I should be aiming higher in my life goals. However, I'm afraid that I'm not sure any longer how I'm supposed to do that. I seem to be pretty much stuck where I am, at the moment, and nothing is looking good for positive change any time soon. Someone told me today, that I should "have a job where I use my mind more." Not sure that's a compliment or not...I do physical labor, so I guess that could be construed as a way of telling me that I stink as an office cleaner, ha-ha? I've had people tell me I'm smart, but I'm not at all, really, honest and truly. I've had to fight tooth and nail to learn things...and I have a swiss cheese memory, so it's doubly hard, sometimes. I do read a lot and am very curious about the world, and not at all afraid to listen, or to express my opinion...but smart? Nah. Actually, I believe in reality, I have a below average IQ.

I've started working on a personal page, My Story. If anyone reading this wants to see my biography of sorts, here's the URL: http://www.ourstory.com/story.html It's a work in progress, but you'd get the general gist of things, anyway. It's something to occupy the lonely hours, anyway, since I'm trapped in the flat until the motorcycle rally leaves town. It's at times, very personal, and sometimes very trivial...just like this blog, in a way...boring, ha-ha!

I don't know, I'm so utterly jaded regarding jobs, right now. The only thing that keeps me going sometimes, honestly, is my own hard-headedness. I believe me, I'm hard-headed...have had more than my fair share of concussions in my life: a metal swing when I was a toddler, one time didn't duck low enough under a low-hanging tree branch (learned to look up when I'm ducking, the hard way, on that one) the lid of a car's trunk (boot) crashing down on me, a horse that was a weaver (swings head back and forth out of boredom)==gosh, that one really did knock me out, my bike accident (thrown clear across the road and landed on my head/face), and one time, when my club was working the BBC's traveling Doctor Who exhibit, I ducked under the exhibit trailer to fetch something, someone called me, without thinking I raised my head up too soon before I cleared the underside of the trailer...you should have seen the goose-egg I got from that one...was dizzy for hours...said, "Oh, I'm fine," as I wobbled around, ha-ha. So anyway, yep, when folks tell me I'm stubborn, I say, "oh yeah, I am rather hard-headed, aren't I?" I sometimes feel I've been knocked on the head more times than a TV dectective! Ever notice, these guys on television, getting knocked on the head all the time with guns and pipes and other hard objects, yet still having the brains to solve intricate mysteries? Brillant!

10:15 am:

In the news: Now they say that a petroglyph in Arizona is a record of a supernova around the year 1006...huh, that's interesting, but can they prove it? Though, I suppose it's quite likely, what with the fact that the native peoples probably spent a great deal of time looking at the sky...I know that when I was working outdoors all day at the stable, I became almost obsessed with the weather...well, you kind of have to, don't you? You have to know how to dress for the elements and what to be prepared for--especially in the case of extreme weather conditions. It's ironic though--at least, I find it so--that here in the states we have the 24 hour "Weather Channel" and most people nowadays hang out indoors on their computers or work in offices, fly in climate controlled airplanes, work with air conditionng and central heating, and drive cars and seldom have to deal with the outdoors all day, every day like farmers, horsemen and fishermen and such.

Speaking of weather, they say that post-hurricane New Orleans is getting "whiter and wealthier." Is that such a big surprise? When the rich white ultra-neo-conservatives are in complete control of our country/culture? If this is a surprise to anyone, that person needs to get out a whole lot more. Those people in New Orleans that are being left behind by the neos are problably going to leave this country with a legacy of poverty and despair that America may never recover from. And the neos and EC's (Extreme Capitalists) better wake up, or this legacy may someday prove to be Ameica's downfall. But so far, the neos and EC's and the entire Bush administration seems to be still in their own little dream world. What? And Bush and his EC's should actually worry about America falling apart at the seams, when there's terrorists in Canada? Yeah, right. Persoanlly, I think America is more in danger from her own deteriorating society and neo-conservatisim, than from any terrorist--but, that's just my opinion.

I have so many worries to juggle, sometimes it's impossible to sleep, like last night. I can't find affordable car insurance, the guy who bought my trailer still owes me $500...which I still owe my landlords (plus an additional $150) for my security deposit. Thank goodness the landlords are being so nice and understanding. But gosh, I'm genuinely scared. I owe so many people so much money...I'm so buried in debt that sometimes I wonder if when my life is going to just crumble into little tiny bits...already is happening, sometimes, I think. I don't know. My student loans are due and I have absolutely no money to pay them. I gotta' fix my car, but there's nothing to do about it, no cash. There's no public trans. here, without a car, I'm sunk. Taxi's are around $60 round trip to the nearest city from here. I have no money for a down payment, and lousy credit, so there's no way I'm ever going to get another car right now. I am so worried that I"ll have an accident with no windsheild wipers on my car--30 plus miles to work, it's bound to happen, and me with no insurance! Or--literally, one of my worse nightmares--that I'll break down on the highway when I have no money on me...I'm not joking about being scared. Once again, I may run out of food by next week, and no food pantry trips...can only go once every 2 months, that's the rule. My new town has no food pantry, so there's no where else to go. The wolves are howling at my door and the door is splintering a little more every day.

As for this day, it's just another working day for me. Clouding up a bit, so I've gone online to check the forecast/local radar. Without windsheild wipers, I really have to re-adjust my travel times. My bursitis is acting up a bit...can only just bend my left knee..going to be a fun time at the old race track tonight...climbing up to the pressbox & judges stand on the roof, walking back and forth from one end of the complex to the other, going down into the basement to mop the long hallway and bring up the trash...not a gay life I"m leading, is it? I spent about 20 minutes today--while simultainiously trying to eat my lunch consisting of some leftover soup and a turkey sandwich, writing another paragraph for my Doctor Who story...I haven't had this much fun writing something...('tho it's going very slowly)...in a long, long time. I trashed half the story and am doing a re-write, as the previous story was just too tedious..not enough cliff hangers...can't have a DW story without plenty of cliff-hangers, can we? Oh dear, the radar for my area is all green....rain again? Oh come on. Really, what is this, England? I don't remember a rainy June like this one in quite a while...but at least it's not another drought, like last year....and the year before. According to the radar, the rain is light to heavy, depending on the location. Looks like it's going to rain for hours, so I'd better leave soon...I hate my job...but, I hate having to leave for work earlier than neccessary, even more. Wouldn't be so bad if I was doing something interesting...or at least reasonably productive to society...but my job never changes...still, I suppose somebody has to take out the trash...(huge sigh.)

Thought for the day:

The treasures you store within your mind and heart, are yours to keep forever.

2006-06-06T05:32:00.000-04:00

When Shakesphere said that the rooster was the "trumpeter of the morn," he surely was correct about that. The rooster across the street won't-shut-up! My big ol' orange/white tabby, Bootsie, loves it, though. I have a box in front of one of the living room windows. Every morning, Boots perches on the box and stares out the window at the henhouse across the street, at the rooster strutting around in the driveway. As I walked through the living room this morning, I asked the cat, "having fun, are we?" He turned around, looked at me, wiggled with delight, sat up straighter and went back to looking out the window. Gosh, cats are so easily amused, aren't they? Lucky kitties.

All I have time for, right now. Made dinner in the slow cooker. Recipe: 1/2 lb ground chuck, browned, 1/2 package cole slaw mix (shredded cabbage & carrots), 1 can tomato sauce, 1 can chicken broth, juice 1/2 lemon, 1 bay leaf, a little thyme. Hope it comes out okay...if it's too thick when I get home, I can always pour it over some white rice or something, I guess. Suppose I'll have to make a sandwich for lunch. Didn't have much of a breakfast--but not much of an early morning eater, anymore. Used to be able to eat cold spaghetti or pizza, when I was a teen (but when you had to leave to walk to the school bus stop at 6:15 am, you'd shove down anything in the morning)...those were the days when I still had a cast iron stomach, ha-ha!

Have to leave for work in a minute or two. My one day working 1st shift...loads of work today, do offices that I only do once a week, plus my regular, plus one trailer that I missed, last week, due to being sick...ugh! Boy, some of these people are messy! One office had a birthday party...confetttii all over the floor...what a mess! Anyway, at least it's not raining, and the tourists are still asleep yet.

2006-06-05T19:16:00.000-04:00

"I'm back in the saddle again..." Whew! I couldn't get into my blog this morning! Something was royally messed up with either the site or my computer...but, if it was the site, they did a good job, I guess, 'cause here I am. Brillant!

So, if you're interested, here's one of the things that happened: When I clicked the Blogger site on Google, I kept getting hijacked to "My Web Search!" Never even heard of them, geez! If anyone reading this has had similar problems with "My Web Search" hijacking your Google search, here's who you write to: pcrispo@iacsam.com He's the PR guy. Tell him you know that their site is using spy/ad ware and that you'll pass on that info to anybody on the internet who'll listen, and steer them clear from using "Ask.com" and other sites that use or promote "My Web Search." I wish the feds would leave the illegals alone and start dealing with all these internet creeps a little better. Anyway...

A remarkedly quiet day at home this morning. My big day out this afternoon: Did laundry, paid the utility bills ($160), went to the butcher's and bought a some cheap meats: 1/2 lb Italian sausage, 1 lb. ground chuck, 1/2 lb of sliced turkey cold cuts, 6 slices of bacon...that's about what my $9.00 would buy. Spent $10 at another store buying toilet duck, furniture polish, laundry soap, TP and a bottle of Coke-a-Cola. And $7.00 on cat food for 2 days and cat litter. The laundry ran me around $12 for 5 loads. Despite my trying to keep the shopping budget down, I probably won't be able to get that oil change for the car, afterall. Don't think I'm ever going to be able to fix my windshield wipers. So, what else is new? At least I won't have to trudge up and downstairs with laundry and/or groceries for another week. (Sigh.)

I wish I could think of something really brillant and inspiring, or at least funny, to say...but honestly, I'm just too tired right now. Thank goodness whatever illness I had seems to have left, but it's left me feeling a bit...I dunno', a little listless and washed out, I guess. Spending money hasn't helped my mood any...it nice to spend money when you have it to spare, but when you don't: It really eats away at you, you know?.

I played with my Doctor Who story this morning, since the internet was acting so wonky. Kinda' having fun with it, even though I'm not much of a fiction writer. Hey, cheap entertainment. It doesn't cost me anything but my time and effort, ey? I suppose I still am a bit of a Whovian--or anorak, as the Brits say. I do have an old Who poster hanging on the back of my office door, plus Tardis wallpaper and a homemade Dr. Who screensaver on my computer...so, maybe I am a bit. I tried a trivia contest for the show...got all the answers...yikes! Am I still that much of a fan? I didn't think I was much of a fan of anything/anyone, anymore. I very much like shows such as Queer Eye and Ellen, but not to the point of turning them into a screensaver...huh. Well, as long as something makes me happy, I say. I need all the happy I can get these days. Even though I can't afford cable, and seldom see DW all the way through--because I only see it at work---I still enjoy reading blogs and interviews, and fan fiction, as well. But...not the same, really, is it? Danged if it doesn't make me wish I was British (well, Bush and our health care/social system kinda' pushes me in that direction, too). Anyway, the new Doctor, this David Tennant, seems personable enough in photos and the few interviews I've read...don't know about the hair, though, ha-ha.

Motorcycles, motorcycles, motorcycles. Thousands of them--you can't move in town without tripping over them! Had to go into town for some milk that I forgot to get...ouch! People are plentiful, but the motorcycles are like cockroaches....everywhere! Think I'll studiously avoid going into town for the next week. Hey, being a hermet can't be all bad...hermets don't have to deal with tourists? Right?

Lost power a couple of times this morning..my guess is that someone probably went off the road and struck a utility pole..guess I'll have to read the paper tommorrow and find out if I'm right. The motorcycle rally isn't complete unless at least one person is seriously hurt and/or killed. Happens every single year. People are beginning to threaten to boycott the town if they don't get rid of the rally, but local businesses are dead set against that.

Have to go back to work tommorrow morning. Applied for some jobs today, hope I get a taker soon, but hope is kind of in short supply around here, lately. The job market is terrible...despite what non-job searchers are saying to the contrary...the feds finally owned up to the poor job market the other day...only people who don't seem to be aware of the true state of the economy are the wealthy and the conservatives.

Well, now over 240 people have looked at my wish list. I was thinking, last night about it. Truth to tell, if'n I had my druthers and some real spending cash, I might not actually buy a lot of things on that list....I think it's because when you have loads of money...you don't feel wants and needs like when you haven't got any cash at all. What I mean is, I think maybe I miss more of things I don't have, when I know that I absolutely cannot have them, then when there's a distinct possibility of me getting those very items. Does that make sense? Beats me...

I do miss going for a drive, though. But unless I get a well-paying job or at least, a second job, no more Sunday drives for a while. Washington County is so beautiful this time of year, as are the Adirondacks and Green Mountains of Vermont. But I love Washington County. The rolling hills and wide panoramic valley's, charming farmland and quaint small towns, winding roads...yard sale bargains, too, sometimes...From the Champlain Valley to the Upper Hudson Valley, it's a great place to drive.

I wonder if I am a fool, for feeling so down all the time, when there's so many other people out there, worse off than me? Who is the fool and who the foolish, and where does foolishness lead to? And why am I asking such a stupid question? Well, with sentences like that, I can see why so few people want to read this blog, ha-ha. Ah well, as I've said before, I am who I am, nothing more. To quote Don Quixote: "Everyone is as God made him, and often a great deal worse."

I must say though, sometimes it feels like time is just stealing past me, like a white wisp of vapor in the night, sneaking around the doorway, past the corner of your eye, a ghostly apparition..and believe you me, I know bit about ghosts (don't ask). Really, sometimes I can almost feel time slipping away from me...more and more lately, my thoughts turn to moments of my past--childhood, young adulthood...seemingly trivial, insignificant moments...and I think, "What happened? Why didn't I hold onto that moment for just a little while longer? Why did I let it go? Why didn't I realize what that small moment meant to me?" And of course, now it's far too late--except inside my heart, I guess, the moment is still there. Inconsequential things, you know? Like a perfectly mundane trip in the car with my mom, or a visit with my nana (my late Aunt Ann--couldn't say it as a toddler, came out "na-na"), or just a walk in the woods with my dog, Shamrock, or simply lying on the bed in my room at home, daydreaming and listening to music. How was I to know that those little moments would one day feel so huge to me? When the realization hit me that they were lost to me forever? I don't know. I wish I did.

But I swear, sometimes I don't even have to look at a clock...I just know how much time has passed...sounds odd maybe, but it's true. Like when I was a teenager/young adult, I used to travel down unfamilar roads....and know just where they would come out--used to sometimes freak out my friends a bit, when I was able to do that...seriously...I have no idea how to explain it--except that the direction felt right to me, somehow. It was strange, I'll give you that...like how did I always know...just know, mind, which way was north--without a compass or even sunlight? A friend, when I was around 20, once tried an experiment with me on that one, blindfolded me on a dark cloudy March day--I still pointed my finger (according to him) almost directly north--not once, but several times--after being spun around...I tell you, it kind of almost freaked me out. I don't think I can do any of that, anymore...might have had something to do with my close ties to the land/nature, and all that...or maybe I was just going through a phase? How about the time I was working our flea market stall in the hallway of a local school, and two hours into it, the phone in the phone booth down the hall rang--and I said, "Oh, that's my mom" without thinking--and it was!(Before I left, she said she wasn't going to call me while I was working.) My mom hated roses. I finally got it out of her, why. It seems, like me, she too was close to her mom. A few days after her mother passed away suddenly, my mom walked into her basement flat after work--and was greeted with the strong odor of roses. "It was my mother." She told me. "I just knew it was her. It startled me." She told me that she was so afraid, that she went and got her cousin, Ralph, and he went in...and smelled nothing. The smell was completely gone, according to my mother. It was probably one of the most disturbing things that ever happened to her---

--and my mom was a brick fortress when it came to weird stuff--she worked in a lonely creaky old building alone for years with a spirit...not kidding--didn't phase her a bit...only time she got nervous was a time in the cemetery when she got the sudden uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't wanted in a particular spot--happened to me too, twice, so I can understand that. We saw a UFO once, she said, "oh, isn't that interesting?" I said..."Holy, S__t!" (Which earned me a dressing down from dear old mom, by the way.) Her take on the whole UFO thing was that if it either was, or wasn't, and there was nothing she could do about it, either way, so why get all excited or nervous? This is the same mom that found a bat in her bookshelves at the library. Did she get scared? No. Did she freak out about rabies? Nope. She felt sorry for it, picked it up and took it outdoors. My mom would save a wasp that stung me. She was an old softee. Bad storms seldom phased her--when a tornado was in the area...she had to be coaxed to the basement...When she was dying--and she knew it..she was scared, but still, she smiled at me. She loved saving living things. Doctor Who has nothing on my mom, ha-ha. We took in so many strays in my lifetime...ahh...but that's another story, isn't it?.

I'm just rambling now, time for bed, I think. It's nearly 11:30pm (EST), I have to start at 6:30 am, so I have to get up around 4:30 in the morning to get ready and all that. I usually put something in the slow cooker for the one day I work 1st shift, so I'll have something ready to eat when I come home...tommorrow is polish cabbage soup and bread. Anyway, I leave you with this quote, tonight:

"Nothing is farther than earth from Heaven; nothing is nearer than Heaven to earth."--Hare.

2006-06-04T00:35:00.000-04:00

In my poverty, I sometimes worry, that perhaps I might become so envious of the wealth of others, to the point of my becoming nothing but a bitter old shrew. I'd rather that'd not happen. Who knows? Perhaps I am an old shrew now and just don't realize it. Anyway, you can't find contentment worrying about keeping up with the Jones'...or Smith's, or anybody else, for that matter. I've been blessed, in the past, with being totally content--sometimes for days, sometimes only an moment or two.

The nice thing about being content, is that it's just so...simple.

It doesn't always take much for contentment to steal upon you. For me, it might be a pause in a busy day, to sit and listen to the sympathetic rain softly falling, the collection of glad birdcalls, the wooly clouds scattering across the sky, the rich green trees slowly perculating crystal rain drops from their verdant leaves. Or, it might simply be taking a moment to sip some chocolate coffee late at night, while listening to some smooth jazz and watching the cat curled up in a ball, fast asleep, in a box he/she had found to call its own with his/her own, the eyes shut tight and a little cat smile on its face.

Alas, I can only imagine contentment tonight. I really must find a better job...not neccessarily a better paying one...just somewhere that I am at least thought of as a human being, would be nice. The racino, SGR, yuch! What a bunch of underclass louts run that place. They may have the money..but brother...they never had the class to go with it...they run that place like a bunch of thugs from Brooklyn (beg your pardon if you're from there, nothing personal) who suddenly have money, I swear, they do not have the wherewithall to know how to run an establishment with dignity, courtsey and just plain basic common sense. They run that place like a bunch of kids left with the keys to mom and dad's candy store. They can buy six big screen TV's...but the backstretch area never has enough TP, and I can't get a new sponge mop for one of the offices...and forget about new vaccum cleaners, or roof repairs for some of the offices...not gonna' happen. Some of the race-related offices have roof's so bad--they look like they're going to cave in at any moment--but casino offices are nice and spiffy, you bet. They (mgt.) only want to spend money on the window dressing, they don't care if the rest of the place falls down around everyone else's ears--no class at all. (Sorry, but my job is all I have at the moment, and it goes hard on me when I see stupidity and can't do anything about it.)

Anything worthwhile, to me, has to start from the bottom up, anything that you really want to mean something, that is...I don't know if that makes sense or not, but...anyway, that's just how I feel.

I used to give this place 110%...now I just do my job, and no more. Why bother? I told them about a dangerous situation, involving a raised cement loading platform and guests using that as an exit--some of them drunk. I use this self-same platform to haul bags of garbage and boxes to the dumpster. What did management do? They locked the gate...and blocked my only reasonable access to the dumpsters...now I have to go way, way, way around, get in the guests way, etc...and, I never got any thanks for bringing the problem to management's attention, either. Big raspberry for SGR and DN. Make it a double...and throw in a little bit of sign language, too. Inconsiderate ba__d's. Did I mention that I hate my job, by the way, ha-ha?

I lost my wallet at work, but it was found, only problem is, that I have to drive down there tommorrow on my day off. Terriffic. But at least my med cards are still in it...hope no one took the blank check...the one time...in fact, the only time...I actually put a blank check in my wallet...something I never usually do...figures, right? And I just made a large deposit at the bank yesterday, to cover my bills, car payment, part of the month's rent...(huge sigh).

I think Flame wants me to go to bed...she's perched on the desk, staring at me with this disgusted look on her face...she used to do that a lot with my late mom...get unhappy if mom didn't go to bed by a certain time...little Flamey loves to cuddle up to people when they're sleeping. She's a smart little cookie, she is.

10:25 am:

My life sometimes lately, seems to be trickling past me, like sand sifting through fingers. Sometimes, I wish I could make the minutes of my life go slower...and sometimes the days drag on so tediously, I wish the hours would go faster. Life can be a series of contradictions, can't it?

It's hard, not being able to do anything, especially when you've done so much in your past. Now, I'm stuck in one place, going absolutely nowhere, and I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I'm never going to get out of this mess. I'm even more afraid that things will get worse--and I know from long experience, that if things do indeed grow worse, it will be quite sudden...and most likely will not be pleasant, as there probably won't be any way out of the situation but to make things even worse--that's usually how it goes, sometimes, it seems: bad to worse to just plain living horror.

The terrible thing is, things I used to take pleasure in--small pleasures, I mean, like writing or reading or just enjoying nature or going for a drive in the country--just aren't doing much for me anymore...and that puzzles me. The last time something like this happened, was when I was 23, shortly after my dad left my mom, and we lost my childhood home--basically everything I ever knew and loved--gone, poof!, gone forever...I remember, that last walk I took in my woods that I'd always loved so well, that rainy November morning...it left me cold and empty...I felt nothing. It wasn't until years later, that I realized why that last walk felt so strange to me: For the first time in my life, I had walked through my woods and fields, and felt--nothing. I'd always felt something before, always. I loved that place with all my heart, it was as much a part of who I was as a person, as my own soul, it was a part and parcel of my own being...and for the first time that bleak November day, my soul was empty, there was nothing there inside me. I didn't belong there anymore, in that place. Not a pleasant sensation, I must tell you...and now, I'm starting to feel that way again. Why?

I wish that I had something that I could grab on to. Something that could make me feel whole again, like I was actually worth something, that I actually belonged somewhere. Honestly, I don't know that I ever will.

8:13 pm (EST):

Gosh, I'm bored. I hate to admit this, but times like this, I really miss cable TV. Wish I could afford it---even with the cable nazi's like Time-Warner to deal with, at least it would give me some entertainment. I heard that there's a Queer Eye marathon today, and also that Doctor Who is repeated on Sundays...ah, well.

I went surfing on Amazon, to see if they had any cheap (under $10) Dr. Who videos--found one, the Horror of Fang Rock, which was a pretty good one of Tom Baker's...but then found out I need a credit card to order, and...no credit cards. So much for that.

Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is a fun, fun show, and I miss it a lot--haven't seen it in over a year. Those guys are terriffic and I'm glad to know they're still going strong. Maybe someday I can get hold of a VHS or something from the show....not holding my breath, though.

I was reading some Doctor Who blogs (Am I still a "Whovian"/"anorak"? No idea...haven't followed the show in years, but read the books when I could get my hands on one.) As I was saying, there seems to be mixed reviews regarding the current season over there in the U.K. Guess I'll have to wait a year, or two, or three, to see what's going on with the show. Most people seem to like the new Doctor, which I guess is a good sign, anyway...not sure how I feel about the love interest thing...big departure from Who tradition there...guess I have no choice but learn to live with it...after all, as much as I love the show...it's still just a TV show, not real life or anything...just good fiction...usually, anyway.

Tried going into town, but cannot stand some of the motorcycle people--I'm sure many of them are nice enough...but the few that I encountered had a serious attitude problem (as in the kind of attitude that's inserted via suppository, and never quite matures to the level of adulthood). One bunch was parked illegally, then grumbled, bit__d and moaned when they thought I parked too close to their precious bikes (I was not only parked legally and a decent enough distance from their bikes, but well within the parking lines). I felt like telling the little tourons in their New Jersey biker jackets, to kiss off, but decided to give them "the look" instead. (This is very successful for me. Basically, I look the offenders in the eye with a mother's not happy with you-type disgusted look and shake my head at them, and walk away. Surprisingly, it usually works--though thankfully I seldom have to employ it.) At least acting class turned out to be good for something. But gosh, like many non-bikers and non-business people in this area, I dread Americade--loads of people go away for the week, what does that tell you?

So, I toddled myself off up the road to the ice cream stand in Warrensburg for a bit of a treat. Felt I earned that, at least. Only some idiot touron from downstate (according to the dealer's address on the lic. plate holder) made an illegal turn right in front of me, and I had to jam on the brakes and almost crashed right into her/him/it...and then the idiot proceeded to give me the one finger salute (why? no idea, because he or she is a neaderthal and can't think/vocalize properly?) and to drive 20mph in a 45mph zone--then, after a block, started going 50 in a 30 zone, dropping a beer can out the window in the process...ugh! Did I mention I am not thilled with tourist season? Anyway, one good thing about being a "local" is that you get to know the back roads real good before the season starts..so I got my ice cream eventually (cream and coffee fudge, if you're at all interested.) I moved up here to get away from these cardboard people...can't win for losing, eh?

I did get a chance to introduce myself to a charming lady this morning...she's in her 90's and the sweetest soul you'd ever want to meet..still very active and caring...and just a lovely, lovely person...I hope we'll have more time to chat some other time soon. But right now....

Now I'm sitting here, writing not much of anything in a a blog that hardly anyone ever reads. Did I mention that poverty stinks? What're ya' gonna do, ey? Make dinner, ha-ha! Think I'll make some potato salad and some BBQ hot dogs or smoked sausage for dinner. Anyhow, I hope if anyone has read this far, that he or she isn't bored and is having a good day off.

I wish I could do something different with my life...anything, really....write features for a newspaper, drive a big old tractor trailer down the highway, be a BBC television presenter, ha-ha. Heck, I'd just settle for a job where I'm actually doing something that matters to someone--anyone!

I don't mind being a nobody, really, it's perfectly okay with me...it's not doing anything with my life..being stuck in the mire of a low-wage dead-end job for the rest of my life, that bothers me to no end. There's nothing wrong with what I do, honest, it's just not what I want to be doing...I went back to college at 39 years of age, to get out of this trap...and ironically, I'm actually worse off than before--when I only had a small disability check to depend on, no transportation out of the tiny rural town I was living in, and nothing to do but deliver food once a week as a Meals-on-Wheels volunteer and take my mom to bingo at the emergency squad building every Saturday night. I was better off, financially and mentally then, than now. Sure, through college, I got to travel overseas and learn about theater and anthropology, news and creative writing, politics, and the like--I learned to get over my shyness in front of groups, to be bolder and not afraid to try new things, to be creative and to think more openly...but, future-wise, income-wise, I'm worse off than ever before in my life...Basically, in the terms of jobs, I'm right back where I was as a teenager...and it hurts like you wouldn't believe! And it's the waiting that gets most on my nerves.

Waiting for what? Waiting for the other shoe to drop, as they say...waiting for the next really bad thing to happen, for the next minor/major crises...it's very much like torture...especially when I know that I'll most likely have to endure it alone. I do have a few friends--but I NEVER see them! We just e-mail each other when we have the time. Sometimes go weeks or even months without any contact with my friends...and I don't have many...but quality is better than quanity.
I mean, I eat alone, write this blog alone, sleep...well, the cats sleep with me, but you know what I mean. I don't mind aloneness...been a loner all of my life...but when you've had the care of a parent in you home/life day-in and day-out for years on end...and suddenly, there's no one there to care for, no family, no one but you...it's quite an adjustment, to say the least. I still have my dreams, though now they seem laughable, they are so very far away....ironically, one of my dreams, for many years, was to visit the U.K.--and while I've visited other countries: NL, Iceland and Egypt--ironically, my only time in the U.K., was flying over Scotland/London in the fog, and 3 hours stuck in Heathrow...now, I know that it probably just wasn't meant to be. But, dreams are free, so I can file the dream away on the back shelf of my heart and leave it there in good keeping. I leave you with a poem, from Don Juan by Lord Byron:

A mighty mass of brick and smoke and shipping,
Dirty and dusty, but wide as eye could reach, and
here and there a sail just skipping
In sight, then lost amidst the forestry
Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping
On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy;
A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown
On a fool's head--and there is London Town.

PHOTO ABOVE:

Never saw this episode of DW, but I laughed at this photo: maybe he's chasing down one of my messier co-workers, ha-ha!

2006-06-03T00:45:00.000-04:00

"White bird in a golden cage..." Friday, I was feeling a bit like the bird in the song. Sometimes I feel like if I don't get out of my cage (of poverty and backbreaking labor), I'm just going to wither away...shrivel up inside and become so insignifcant in my own time, that no one will ever notice when my soul becomes dust and simply blows away on tommorrow's wind.

Oh, I dunno'. Maybe I'm perhaps being a touch melodramatic, ey? Seriously though, I'm feeling much older than I actually am, these days. Oh, I don't mean my looks--heck, when you seriously look just like your late Polish aunt and grandmother--looks...you tend not to obsess with overmuch. No, I mean inside...I feel like I've lived twice as much in the last few years than I have in the last 20. Some of that living was quite nice...but most--especially in the last 2 years--just awful.

I mean, I could probably deal with the current dead-end situation...if I hadn't had all the other bad stuff that went on long before this to deal with, as well (getting ripped off for several thousand--my only savings--dollars, my dad's death, losing out--right at the last minute--on our (mom's and my) dream home, my mom's sudden death, having to drop out of college after 5 years of hard work, not being able to find a job right off for the first time in over 30 years, losing my trailer that was the only home I've ever owned (caravan if you're European)...ah, the list is actually much, much longer than that, but those are some of the "highlights," as they say. Any idea how it feels to work full-time, at a hard, dirty job, and have to go to a food pantry for hand-outs every month? Well, I will tell you--it feels lousy! Because of my weird hours on this job (different shifts), I haven't been able to find a second job--been looking for 3 months with no success.

I must say, I really, really, really HATE it, when someone comes up to me, and breezily says, "well so and so is hiring, why can't you get a job there?" Yeah, like I'm just going to waltz in the door and say "here I am!" and the employer is going to jump up and say "Great! You're hired!" Nope, don't think so... Been working since the winter of 1975, that little scenerio has yet to happen...but, that said, until my 45th year, I'd never had a problem finding work that I liked--okay, usually liked. Until my 45th year, as a matter of fact, it never took me longer than 2 or 3 weeks to find employment--sometimes I simply went from job A to job B without a pause. I absolutely despise the post-9/11, post-internet, post-republican world. I want to time travel, go back to the nice, safe, sane (well, almost sane) Seventies. No republicans (mostly), hardly any computers, (virtually) no cable TV or video games, no AIDs, no ultra-conservatives, hardly any religious fanatics, Mc Donalds still made fries with animal fat, everyone happy to be themselves--no Livestyles of the Rich and Famous yet, no obsession with health--Okay, so we had to deal with polyester and big hairdos... Far-out! Disco lives! Rock on!

Anyway, speaking of time travel, I only got to watch about 10 minutes of Dr. Who tonight. I really didn't get much out of it, on account of the fact that there seems to be more commercials than show on the Sci-fi channel, but it seemed nice, what I saw (the now infamous naked Captain Jack scene, the Doctor in Big Brother house)..but I almost got caught watching TV in the big bosses' office...I was actually working, by the by, one can dust and watch television too, you know. Quite frankly though, I'm so fed up with the management's attitudes at SGR (towards employees) that I feel like saying, "Fire me--please!" If I didn't need the job to keep the roof over my head...but alas, I do.

I'm still sick, got dizzy several times at work tonight. On top of that, I strained my foot lifting stuff, and that hurts, too, very much. It may seem I'm obsessed with Dr. Who, but the truth is...the show just makes me happy...I can't say why...I just find it so terribly entertaining, I always feel better after watching the show. So if I'm obsessed, I think that it's a healthy obsession--although I draw the line at dressing like the Doctor, or making my own Dalek, ha-ha. I was reading that Bush's ratings are at an all-time low....the guy's been pushing the stupidity envelope for years...now John Q. Public is starting to push back. What is it Seneca said? Something like "a govenment who's hated doesn't last long." Or something near to that, anyway. Those ancient Romans weren't stupid, that's for sure. Bush didn't graduate anywhere near the top of his class...maybe he should have stopped doing coke or getting drunk or whatever and started reading more...the guy doesn't even read a newspaper...what's that tell you? Me, I'm just the librarian's daughter, and you know what? That's okay with me.

11:16 am:

I was thinking about the fact that I've not been to chruch lately. During the summer before my late mother's death, and for months after, I prayed profusely. It seemed to me though, the harder I prayed, the worse things got...I stopped praying--except for the sake of others. But I wonder if I'm wrong...still, I guess that's for God and me to know, I suppose.

I would never try to force religion on a person, and I believe that anyone who does try to do so, is horribly wrong. I think that each indivdual should embrace--or not--their religion on his or her own terms. Thomas Jefferson once said: "I am for freedom of religion and against all maneuvers to bring about a legal ascendancy of one sect over another." Which is one of the reasons why I'm all for gay marriage and partly why I don't give my complete respect to religious-based pro-lifer's. It pains me to see anyone try to shove their religion/religious views down anyone's throat. I totally repect those with strong religious faith...just have a problem with people who try to foist those beliefs on others--without their express consent. There are ways to show your faith, without ever having to say a word about your religion. I think it's okay to pray in public, or bless God in a sentence, stuff like that...just don't want someone to grab me and force me to kneel against my will---which is, in a way, what people who try to change laws based solely on their own religious belifs--and nothing else--are doing to the rest of us. But, that's just my own personal opinion.

Well, Saturday and...big surprise--more rain! Hooray! I guess this has been one of the rainiest several weeks on record. So then, at least it will keep the tourists indoors mostly, ey? Today in my town, there's a tow truck convention (not kidding) and (also not kidding) the "official" Elvis Festival--sanctioned by the Presley estate itself, oh gosh oh golly gee whiz. Next weekend is the Americade motorcycle rally---ten thousand plus motorcycles converging on one small resort town with a total of three traffic lights in the whole place--yippee skippee. And the third weekend, there's the state-wide fvolunteer fireman's convention---thousands of firemen and their families and hundreds of fire and rescue vechicles in a huge parade...oh joy, oh rapture. Oh damn...gonna' take forever for me to get to work through all the traffic! Then we have a weekend's pause (I think) before the Forth of July holiday crowd comes pouring into town...ah well, no one forced me to live here...and at least I'm just outside the village limits. (Small sigh).

Spent the morning pouring over my checking account...with dyscalculia and numerophobia, balancing the books is not only a major chore--it's a genuine nightmare. If I'm right in my calculations, and I'm very careful indeed with my spending and nothing bad happens...maybe I can spare some cash for a much-needed oil change for my car. As usual, it's a wait and see situation. Not holding my breath or anything. Long to be able to get my hair cut, buy a hair dryer or a new pair of jeans...not in the cards though. Miss being able to buy a paperback book, but I settle for re-reading the books I have...better than nothing, I say.

Thought for the day:

Spend more time appreciating what you have, and you'll have less time to miss the things you don't have.

2006-06-02T11:19:00.000-04:00

"If heaven sends no supplies, the fairest blossom in the garden dies."--William Browne.

Well, we've certainly been getting our fair share of rain, lately. Maybe we won't have a drought this year, like last year. Last year we were faced with the worry of forest fires and such, although forest fires here in the northeast are nothing like what they have out west--our fires sometimes tend to go underground, into the root system...and they don't generally burn miles of forest, like out west....however, that said, our fires can last for months, underground.

Anyway, on a personal level, my car's windshield wipers picked a fine time to break, didn't they? And absolutely no cash to spare to repair them--none. I can't get another car, either...between the world's worst credit and no down payment...and possibly no insurance, either. The thought makes me even more ill than I'm feeling already. I feel so trapped by my lack of cash flow. I've been looking for a decent job since mid-November, and here it is June, and still nothing....is it any wonder I'm so darned depressed and feel totally worthless as a human being?

Lost more cash out of my paycheck last night. Had to go home sick. I was quite ill at work...even worse when I got home...have to make another appt. with the doctor, I suppose...don't know where to come up with the cash for the co-pay. It's easy for people with money to spare, to say this new govt. drug plan/insurance is great...they haven't the worry about having their electric turned off, or having enough food to eat, or finding enough cash to feed their pets, or fuel for the car to go to work with, or cash for asprin or prescriptions...have they, then? They have theirs, so to heck with everyone else who's suffering. Co-pay used to be $3--and I didn't always have that to spare, and neither has thousands of others, now it's much, much higher--& my monthly income is actually lower, so thanks to the lovely sub-human pro-big business republicans, a doctor is truly a luxury item now, gee thanks GB! Ahh...really, that's neither a joke nor is it any sort of exaggeration...if you haven't, at least once in your life, literally had to count pennies to buy a quart of milk or a loaf of bread, you don't truly know what reality is...(not intended as an insult, it's just that a lot of people in this country, just don't grasp the concept of poverty in America very well--if at all.)

There's definately two America's now: one half who has, and the other half who hasn't--or, to be more blunt: one half who's totally oblivious as to what hard-core reality is, and the other half who lives in nothing but hard-core reality.

I wish this entry today was more cheerful, but I just feel lousy and not positive at all today. Such is life, eh? I wish heaven would send me some supplies...or at least, some GOOD news, for a change...something, anything... :(

2006-06-01T01:57:00.000-04:00

In the pocket-sized hours of the morning, I'm weary from my night's work and the commute seemed to drag, for a change, even though I had the road virtually to myself.

When leaving for work, an ambulance, the town's Water Rescue truck and another truck hauling a rescue boat went tearing by, headed north. Virtually simultainiously, within roughly 10 miles of each other, three kids drowned today. One drowned down on Stony Creek, two others jumping off the Batchelorsville Bridge into the still very cold Sacandaga Resevoir. Strange, huh? Tragedy happens in bunches...another boating accident here on the lake the other day, killed someone else. Guy was piloting his boat along the shoreline at 2:30 in the morning, when he struck a diving board on someone's dock, knocking the tower off his boat, which hit him in the head, causing fatal injuries. Kid from a group home out on a picnic at an island adjoining the Hudson and Mohawk rivers jumped off a clif to swim and was drowned. What makes this worse, is that apparently two of his friends that were with him, got frightend that the police would arrest them for some reason, and the two boys have run away and no one knows where they are--they are only around 14 or 15, I think. That's awful, I think. Poor kids.

My feet are aching so bad tonight that I'm not sure that I will be able to sleep--especially my bad foot. I dearly wish I could find a decent job, but if wishes were horses, I'd own the Kentucky Horse Park....as it is, I'm at where I'm at, and all the horses in my life are plastic models, ha-ha.

By the way, here is a link to a lovely blog...I personally give it five marks for humor: http://duckingforapples.blogspot.com/

You know what I miss? Junk food. Eating out. It's not as pleasurable as when my mom and/or dad was around--especially my mom, to talk to. Eating alone isn't much fun, but eating alone out is a lot better (sometimes anyway) than eating in silence by yourself at home. I miss shopping, as well. You know, going to a store, buying clothes, appliances, furniture and whatnot. Haven't done any shopping like that in many, many months now. Now, before I even hit the checkout, I have to weigh stuff in my mind...last time, I desperately wanted some cookies or pudding, got neither, because I needed cat food and ant traps a whole lot more. That's what low-income living is about on a daily level....making little decisions that could affect you in a big way...not buying the cookies meant that I could strecth my gas (petrol) money just a bit farther, or do one extra load of laundry at the laundromat later. So, I seldom eat out--if I do, it's usually a slice of pizza, or the $2 "all American meal" at McDonalds...but I don't knock it, 'cause what can I say? I love my junk food....if you are what you eat, I'd probably be a sliced sausage pizza--come to think of it, I am a bit on the rotund side, ha-ha.

11:47 am:

Little miss nosy at work wants to know what I put in this blog...she's hinting at my telling her which blog I use and the title....but I figure it's none of her business. I don't really mind total strangers reading this now and then, because they don't know me from Adam...so no harm done, right? And since by rough count, only 0 to 8 people (by my estimation) a day--out of potential millions of internet users--read this thing, no harm done at all...and maybe one of my readers might feel less alone in the world, if he or she is also a low-income person? Maybe, I don't know. It would be nice to think so. But Miss nosy thinks I'm nuts, aparently--and who am I to dispute her, ey?

My illness is back, today. Trying to eat, as it's a long day...extra work for me tonight...but it's hard when you feel so run down and weak. I've lost quite a bit of weight, I think, not sure how much, as I don't own a scale anymore, but my pants are literally falling down, and I'm resorting to using a stirrup leather from an English saddle, in lieu of a belt, as I haven't yet located any of my regular belts--I packed to move in a major hurry, and perhaps they got missed? Dunno', just know that, unlike some of the younger girls nowadays, I really don't find the plumber's butt-crack look attactive...just the opposite. I once got stuck in a computer class at college, spending the entire semester looking down some girl's butt crack--even in the dead of a Vermont winter...gross. But I'm old-fashioned, I don't think tatoos and nose studs are attractive on girls, either...unless you like looking like a slutty punk thug merchant marine, I guess. But that's just me. Ah well, such is life.

As I said, trying to keep down lunch, I figure baked fish & chips is mild enough, maybe, we'll see I guess. Today is payday, trying to pay bills. Wonder if they've canceled my insurance yet? Going to try the insurance thing tomorrow. Gotta' get another job! This constant juggling of bills and trying to subsist on a weekly food budget of $20 to $30 is nuts! (Around here, the average weekly expenditure for food for one person--known by comparison with my co-workers, and what I used to spend when I had cash to spare---is around $50 to $75. Food is getting very, very expensive, just like the cost of gasoline, electricity and heating oil....and big business is pressing Washington and the states, not to raise minimum wage---they won't be happy 'till they have us all working for nothing for them in concentration camps, I swear. Hmmm...again, an idea for a second Dr. Who story of an alternate U.S.?

I figured out how the corporate cheapskates are keeping down our wages. It occured to me that they call our department "housekeeping." In reality, we're janitorial staff. Housekeeping truly applies to hotels--making beds, cleaning showers, etc. We do clean bathrooms, and we vaccum and dust..but we also do stuff that "housekeepers" DON'T do--mop floors, take out huge bags of garbage, clean eating areas, pick up cups in the casino--that's all stuff that JANITORS do!! But janitors make much more money than we do. They (SGR) base our salaries on what maids in hotels are getting, not what other casino's staff get...$1.50 to $3.00 more an hour. I'm told the new Tioga Downs racino pays it's cleaners as much as $12 an hour! (We get around $8.25). Gosh, a person could actually LIVE on that kind of salary...But the bas___'s are cheap...they will never have truly excellent customer service because of it, and they just don't understand this, 'cause they're ignorant and stubborn and can't get their collective snoots out of of their bank accounts long enough to see it.

They want the place to be pristine, but don't pay the wages, have enough help or have the decent equipment to do it...they want US to take pride in the racino...all the while D&N/SGR have NO pride in us! They don't care about or respect us, they don't care, period. They are ignorant savages scrabbling after the almighty dollar...I'd be fired for saying that to their faces, but it's true. Basically, the men that run SGR have NO CLASS. Period. They could have...we, the employees, could make that place ROCK! But they (mgt.) don't want us to, obviously..they are more concerned with making/saving money, than with making the place be a paragon of employee satisfaction. And a good busniness begins with happy emloyees--but EC's are oblibious to that. Well, I say---big business sucks and extreme capitalism is ruining not only America--but civilization itself. But....that's just my opinion...I'm no communist, I think communisim is just as stuipd as extreme capitalism, but maybe, in his own way, Karl Marx was right about some things...I dunno'.

Well, not much housework needs doing this morning...not feeling well enough to vaccum today. The dishes are done, anyway. I love looking out my kitchen window over the sink, at the hackberry trees and Eastern white pines...reminds me of home, it does. Where I grew up, we had two enormous hackberry trees in our front yard, and one in the backyard, just outside the kitchen window...and there was the grove of white pines bordering the back yard, too. And the birds were always singing, like they do here, as well. My mom would have loved this place, I think. I love trees very much. Someone once told me that she didn't like the Adirondacks because they were "too green." Is she crazy? She should spend 3 or 4 months of a bleak winter, with nothing but whites and browns and varying shades of grays...besides, the colors are there--they're always there--for those who choose to see them...they're just more subtle, and you just have to plain make the time in your life to stop and look and see.

"Nature is a volume of which God is the author."--Harvey.

http://www.blogexplosion.com/members/surfdesc_main.php

2006-05-31T10:50:00.000-04:00

Nobody said life had to be fun, and sister, they weren't kidding!

Woke up, after a night tossing and turning. I was sick with chills and sweats. Feel a bit weak this morning, but better, I think. No idea what was wrong with me...maybe all in my head? Or maybe something I picked up at work? Beats me. Anyway, after dressing, I took the garbage downstairs and across the street--how exciting for me. Yippee. Then I made lunch--in this case, I used the stew beef, zucchini, cauliflower and garlic that the food pantry gave me, tossed in a little canned diced tomatoes with their juice, some sliced sweet onions, a little thyme, some jasmine rice I had sitting around in the cupboard and some beef boullion cubes/a little water. We'll see how my little ragout comes out...maybe okay, maybe rotten, but it'll be a nice lunch, for a change...and I'm stuck taking a bologna and cheese sandwich to work for dinner, so a good lunch is in order for today.

Weather is muggy and stormy looking--more like July or August than early June. We joke around here, that we have two seasons: winter and August 15th, ha-ha. Honestly...last few years, we seem to go right from winter to summer. Spring used to come in late March, last to early June. Now, maybe 2 or 3 weeks of Spring...then straight from "oh darn, it's snowing/raining again," right to the "thank goodness for air conditioning"/you can cut the air with a knife kind of weather.

Last night I was exhasted, tried to go to bed early, but 10 minutes after turning in--I was wide awake again. So I went into a book I bought at a yard sale on PowerPoint techniques, created several slide shows--one on Friesian horses, one on ancient Rome and one on Doctor Who...learned some interesting new stuff that you can do, but some stuff I'm going to need to work on. I liked learning about sizing pictures and stuff, that was okay...and it was sort of fun, kind of, anyway.

It's been a year of firsts, for me. First time I ever sat with a dying person, first time I couldn't find a job right off, first holidays (except for July 4th and Labor Day) alone, First birthday alone, first place I ever lived (minus the month I was homeless) where I didn't have a room mate or relative living with me, first time I've ever been virtually alone in the world. It's been a tough row to hoe, this year. No, life is definitely not fun anymore.

I've been stuggling, for more than 6 months, to bend without breaking, but sometimes my soul just feels like it's getting so very, very brittle...I can't help but wonder sometimes, if I'm truly going to break one of these days. I don't know.

According to the radar, there's a kind of nasty thunderstorm only about 30 minutes north of my location...but doesn't look like it's headed my way. Usually, storms here in the north travel west to east, but sometimes, like yesterday, they go north/south. In this case, I think the storm's following the usual pattern. I worry, because of the lack of wipers on my car. Took me over 2 hours to get home through the rain/storms yesterday. When you're poor, life's not just a hassle, it's also a pain in the backside.

News: Still bad stuff coming out of Indonesia. I really feel bad for them...I think I have it bad, but then realize just how much worse it can be, when I read about stuff like that. Also bad news out of Iraq again...what else is new? I ask people to think---I mean, really think--if we were so very intent on re-building Iraq, why did our govt. take money away from the clean water project and use it to turn Saddam's palace into our embassy? Babies die from lack of clean water every day over there...that's not a story...merely f-a-c-t. But, to some Americans, I guess a grand embassy is more important than saving babies. Where's the Ultra-super-duper Christian fanatics and anti-abortionists on this one, ey? Whoops, I forgot, they're not Christian or Anglo babies, are they? Yes, that was meant as sarcasim. Sorry, but sometimes the selective logic (or total lack of any, whatsoever) of some of my fellow citizens completely baffles me. Okay, okay, I'm on my soapbox again, ah well....

But let me ask this: Is a grand palace an honest and true symbol of democracy? Is it really? Has it ever been? I'm just asking, I don't have the answer, really, it was just a thought. I'm sure King George thinks it is, anyway. Personally, I think we could have found a cheaper and more practical structure...raze the palace or give it back to the Iraqi govt. to decide what to do with it...it really belongs to them, anyway, doesn't it? Or does it? Beats me.

Anyway, have to go to work. It's an easy day, sort of....at least I don't have to do the office trailers tonight. Going to be a long night, though. I'm worried so much about my car. I lose the car, I'm sunk, done for. I just feel....well, I feel like I'm just banging my head uselessly against life's walls. I sit here and write this blog...for what? Who cares? And do I care anymore, if anyone cares? (Big sigh.) Who knows? Who knows what tommorrow will bring...just another day, more bad stuff? Good news (what's that)?

"Dreaming of a tommorrow, which tomorrow will be as distant then, as it is today."--Tome Burguillos.

2006-05-30T05:12:00.000-04:00

On the feather-soft wings of a late Spring morn, I stuggle with waking.

With that said, I'm danged tired! Woke up an hour and a half early--in this case around 3:30 in the morning. It was so hot and stuffy in the bedroom that I couldn't get back to sleep, then, as I nodded off--finally, Flamey decided to walk over my face...and lick it too. Cat slobber in the wee hours of the morning..lovely.

The birds are twittering, the rooster across the street is crowing, the sky is going from black to a very pale cobalt blue...and I'm trying desperately to keep my eyes open. Wish it wasn't Tuesday. The start of another work week for me. To make matters worse, and every lady will understand this, I'm getting my "friend" again...just had it three weeks ago....intervals getting shorter lately. Unlike some women, I can't wait for MP. Ah well, such is life....well, my life anyway.

I'm dreading giving my notice today...really, I am. But I just can't do this crap anymore. My job is making me miserable...I try really hard not to let it get me down, but it's just not working anymore. I give 110% to this company, whenever I can, and like many big companies, they don't care and what I do each day just doesn't matter. I literally---I do mean, literally do the job of 2 people every day, for the salary of 1/2 a person...and this is not living. There is no future in this, I'm just getting older faster. I decided that if I'm going to be poor, I might as well be poor working near home, than driving 30 to 40 minutes away down the interstate to do it. I know now that I'll probably never have a good job...the chances of that happening are about the same as me winning a big lottery (a real one, not those fake e-mail one's from overseas). I am sooo--tired of looking for that great job...or any decent paying job, that I don't even feel like surfing the job listings on the net anymore. I'm nearly--not yet, but almost--at the "why bother trying?" stage.

I live life so much on the financial edge, that suicide really isn't that far off from my mind sometimes...and what makes that worse, is that it doesn't bother me as much as it used to. Honestly, if I didn't have the cats, or a decent place to live, I'd have nothing much to live for. I can't pay my car insurance, don't know where the money's coming from to pay the electric bill next week....I can't stand much more of this...this has been going on for months...years, even--what with mom's medical expenses and all. I'm just so damned tired--emotionally and physically--it's not hardly worth it, anymore.

If I had a good job, it would give me hope...an actual future...I have no future, I have no life. This blog is stupid, I'm stupid, my life is stupid....(sigh). I don't blame anyone for not liking me. I deserve to be alone. I'm a loser.

Later in the day (after work):

I was rather depressed this morning. Still am, but not as much. I'm not saying above, that I"m contemplating suicide, by the way. What I meant was, my life has gotten to the point where even contemplating that act...well, let's just say that the thought doesn't nearly distress me as much as it used to--and I'm not sure if this makes sense at all--but the fact that these macabre thoughts don't bother me much....bothers me. But no, I'm not planning to hang myself from the rafters just yet---that would be the simplest and easiest solution to all this worry and pain, and I'm afraid I'm just too used to doing things the hard way. I'm rather hard-headed, the fact that I've had several concussions in my life and am still walking around (don't ask) is testimony to that. I still feel like a major loser, but I guess there's not much I can do about that, either, right now. I really don't belong anywhere, anymore...maybe I never did....except when I was a teen/young adult, meandering through my hills--but that was only less than ten years of my life.

It's hard being around people talking in a group. Sometimes I'm accepted in, and sometimes--too often in my life--I'm shunted aside, or worse, ignored altogether, like I'm not even there. Why is it, that I can give a speech that people actually listen to, in front of dozens, even hundreds of people, and I can't talk to people one-on-one or a small group without feeling like a fish out of water most of the time? I've made a total fool of myself onstage in front of a live audience and not felt at all foolish--or at worst, was okay with it after a bit. But everytime--every single time-- I talk to someone on a personal level--I feel like a total idiot. I keep saying to myself, "shut up, you moron!" But I don't always seem to listen. I mean, on a professional and /or educational level, as long as I have a definate purpose to my conversation, I can talk to virtually anyone and be comfortable--you know, feature article interviews or customer service, stuff like that. But switch gears to casual conversation--it's not that I'm shy, mind---it just that I talk too much. I wind up saying more than I ever originally intended to say...and sometimes I reveal personal stuff...I HATE that. I keep saying inside my head..."Close your mouth, idiot!" But my mouth doesn't listen to head often enough, it seems. Damn.

I do hear some interesting conversation at work. As a writer, I habitually listen in to stuff, never know where an idea will come from--once based an entire ten-minuute play on one 5 minute real life conversation. For instance, one girl told the tragic tale of how she lost her grandmother and several cousins in a fire. It seems the house they lived in was prone to neighborhood vandalism--broken windows all the time. So the grandmother put chicken wire up to the windows. One night, the kerosene heater tipped over, and no one noticed. A fire broke out and the family all burned to death because they couldn't escape through the windows. Another person told how her brother and his friends were walking down the railroad tracks, and one of the boys decided not to wait for the train to pass and ran across anyway....there wasn't much left of the boy and the brother has been in therapy ever since. On the lighter side, some male co-workers were trying to decide what TV show had the best theme song--up for grabs was Starsky and Hutch, Giligan's Island, and the Theme from MASH...and one odd-man-out with a bid for Barney Miller. Worst: hands down, it was the theme from the A-Team. Another young guy was complaining about finding a decent place for drum practice--if his thrumming fingers on the table were anything to go by, he isn't half bad--apparently though, it's considered poor form to practice one's drums on one's back porch at 10pm at night---especially in a trailer park, or so one of his workmates informed him. The conversation then turned to the national economy--the majority saying it stinks, the minority saying it's better than ever--wonder who's really correct, if anyone? Then while discussing Hurricane Katrina, Florida somehow entered the picture. The conversation got round to the launching of the new space plane (the XL38 or something of the sort). One fellow said he had a relative living near the launch pad. Said relation was supposedly there that day John Glenn tested the new space plane---and exited the plane only a minute after a malfunction sign went off, and the darn thing blew up into smithereens--and nearly melted the launch pad in the process. When asked "How'd you like it?" by the relative, Mr. Glenn allegedly replied, "Never again!" Our (millions of) tax dollars hard at work, yep. And in the "news to me, but not surprising" line of conversation: One co-worker explained that the Marines had rigged the underground passenger train tunnel that runs under the mountains near Burlington, VT (to the Canadian border)that it is wired with explosives...(so that if we're attacked, we can't get to Canada???) He went on to explain that if we are bombed, to travel east-west, as the bombing (in the northeastern U.S.) will happen north-south. Always reassuring to know that.

And once again, I step onto my soapbox:

Personally, I think we're more in danger from North Korea, or from obsessively extreme capitalism/conservatism, than from the Middle East, but what do I know? We were stupid to ever get involved there. Back in the 50's, this all started. We put the Ayatollah into power, we put Saddam into power...now radical Iran is becoming a controlling force in Iraq, once again upsetting the delicate balance of power in the Middle East and parts of North Africa...when's it all gonna' end? Look where all this devious--and not so devious---manipulation has gotten us...and it the meantime, America has become one of the most violent, racist, ultra-conservative..need I really go on? We do such good things, then we turn around and do horrible things. We give billions in aid to foreign countries, but virtually starve our own people (if people aren't hungry here, why are food pantries running out of food all the time?) and force millions to be without proper medical care or affordable public transportation, or decent affordable housing? I agree that we need to be gloally active, but we need, even more so, to start taking care of our own a little better..before our govt. finds itself one day, with another Russian or French type of revolution on it's hands....and least I've been saying that since the mid-1980's...thank goodness I've been wrong so far. (I don't really want to be anymore right about that, then I was about the Iraq War three plus years ago...I was vindicated in my statements about Iraq..I don't want to be vindicated about civil war...but as long as our govt. and big business keeps taking...and taking..and taking from the poor to lower middle classes...something's going to break...someday, people are going to wake up and smell the stench of greed wafting over their heads from the direction of Washington D.C., and say, "No more!" And then...it's not going to be pretty. I honestly hope, that in this, I am very, very wrong...I'm just afraid that the ultimate truth.. history itself, will prove me right.

There, all done. Packing away the soapbox for this evening. Sorry if I bored you. Just a little venting...venting is good, as long as you don't actually hurt anyone..(I haven't, have I? If any of my posts ever deeply hurt somebody's feelings, I'd feel really awful.)

I mentioned the Boston Tea Party in another post...wouldn't it be a hoot, if a bunch of us mean ol' liberals got together, dressed like Iraqis and poured barrels of oil out on the White House lawn? That would be a great (Okay, and expensive) political statement, don't you think, ha-ha? Of course, the paranoid nsa nazi's would have us all sent to a foreign prison where they could torture us at will, but hey--the look on Bush's face would be ever so worth it, yuk-yuk! The man is a horrendously shallow overgrown child--and what a temper-tantrum he'd throw! People would see him for what he really is, maybe. (I'm too polite to say what). I'm joking, of course, but maybe I'll write a humorus short story around it....just for fun...leaving out real names, naturally. Or maybe make it into another Dr. Who short story....a parallel U.S., hmmm.

Anyway, storms in the area, so I'm cutting this short. The cats were a little scared...they don't like loud noises, some of them--especially when I'm not around to reassure them. I'm tired and sad and not feeling so hot, physically, so it's early to bed for me, probably.

2006-05-29T00:10:00.000-04:00

The midnight hour: the witching hour--which is appropo really, as I was in rather a bit of a witchy mood, Saturday, wasn't I? ...Or was it simply a bad case of PMS? Same thing, actually, isn't it?

I was thinking earlier (yes, it wasn't just the steak in the skillet giving off smoke)...as I was saying, I was thinking about my rather nasty little post on Saturday, and I was pondering how we Americans have always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with our country. I mean, the first Dutch settlers absolutely loved all the furs and other items that came from here, and of course the wonderful planting soil of the Hudson Valley, but then they had to deal with the rotten muggy sticky weather in summer, and the long freezing winters, and the long commute back to Holland and all that...really a bummer, you know? Then the English came...and we all know what finally happened to them--although, until Tony Blair came along, I sometimes wished they'd stayed--(national health care and all that). Anyway, the early pioneers loved the American wilderness...until they encountered the natives...and let's not forget the lovely swarms of black flies, deer flies and misquitoes--and of course the bears, timber rattlers (snakes), black widow spiders and wolves. Despite the natives, the insects, the dangerous animals, the weather and all that nonsense, the English forged on...until the French came along...then we're talking major death and destruction, battle and bloodshed. But, Queen Anne got it all sorted out eventually, and America forged on...until (gasp) taxes loomed into the picture. As a whole, most Americans were pretty content under old King George. Until one day, without bothering to consult anybody over here, (like we do that now???) the English government decided to put a hefty tax on tea. Well, one thing you don't want to do, is to make the rich pay more taxes !(Something we'll never have to worry about with the new King George and his fellow republicans.) So, they (the wealthy colonials) had to direct their anger somewhere, so they got a fellow named Thomas Paine to write a bunch of essays. (Sort of a colonial Fox News...only with intelligence and class...and did I mention intelligence?) Anyway, Paine got the common men--the famers and store clerks and whatnot..who really didn't drink that much tea...more ale than anything...to get mad and the Brits and the rest, as they say, is history. But we didn't just fight the Brits, did we? We also fought each other. I ought to know. One of my ancestors was a Tory (for the record, one of my other ancestors was also a patriot, with Morgan's Riflemen at the Battle of Saratoga). Anyway, this ancestor didn't stay a Tory for long. As the story goes, it seems that his neighbors resented his siding with the British. Ancestor got wind of their sentiments, so he hid in his hayloft when they came to call. And so the patriotic neighbors went to my ancestor's farm to persuade him to change sides..and did so by shoving a pitchfork through the hay, more or less directly into his lower posterior...needless to say, he changed sides...he also probably had to change his shorts afterward.

Later, the ex-Tory did actually do good for his country...many a brave man isn't always brave in the beginning, especially in times of war. Often a war brings out the worst (think Iraq prisons and murders) and the best (freeing the Jews from concentration camps) in our soldiers. In my part of the country, the signs of war still linger..over 200 years later. People are still finding buttons and buckles and bullets with teeth marks in them (from biting down during surgery.)

Our brave soldiers fought many battles for this nation...died and lost limbs for it...sometimes for good reasons, sometimes not. Sometimes valorious, sometimes disgraceful, frequently just doing the best they can under absolutely applaling circumstances. But I honor all of them who fought and served bravely and with honor. We go on about our brave soldiers quite a bit, during Memorial Day. But we always haven't backed up those feelings with action. For instance, in the 1930's, thousands of veterans converged on our nation's capital, to demand assistance (afterall, they were starving and living in tents and shanties), and what did we do...siced the troops and them, fired on them, burned their tents and shacks and sent them packing...and virtually no one today knows or remembers. They talk about lack of body armor in Iraq, but no one talks about homeless vets. So, I not only honor those who have served, but those who have suffered beyond service, and those who contiune to suffer. May God grant them peace and mercy.

LATER:

Checked my counter...I was right, it seems that less than 5 people a day are reading this blog (Hello, how are you?, if you're in the U.S., hope you're having a nice holiday weekend). That's okay, then. I don't think I'd get uncomfortable with a public journal, unless the number was in the hundreds/thousands. I mean, this has to be kind of a boring blog, as blogs go, I should think, so the low numbers are exactly what I expected, and that's just fine by me. Maybe it's some Nazi (republican) stool pidgeon from the Gestapo (AKA: Homeland Security), ha-ha (no offence, if you really are.)

Chubby charlie is done playing. He's all stretched out on the floor in front of the air conditioner. He looked up at me, just now, yawned, and flopped his head back down. He'd been playing with his little furry mouse all morning...and he's sooo--fat, he tires easily. I tried putting him on a diet but he would have none of that. He's got a bit of a temper--not viscious or anything--- really can tell what this cat is feeling though, he pouts all the time, just like a spoiled little kid.

Anyway, looked at my wishlist out of curiosity, over 220 people have visited my list...total strangers...very strange. I have no idea why anyone cares what I want...it's just unusual, I think, but whatever turns them on...I can't even pay my car insurance...how can I ever get anything on my wish list? And I'm totally nobody, and I'm perfectly okay with that. I'm not cool or hip, and may the Lord strike me dead if I'm ever--heaven forbid--trendy. I am who I am, and that's that.

Mr. Happy Hammer is back on the roof again....only now he's got some kind of high pitched buzzing thingy, besides his hammer. Well, at least I got one day of peace and quiet. I've been laboring over the 2nd play, but am not in the mood this afternoon, too warm in my little office. I worked on my Doctor Who fan fiction piece (I'm sending them back to the old west--maybe, haven't been to that part yet)...having fun with it. No one's ever going to see it, so I don't have to worry overmuch about perfect writing, and can just write whatever/however I want and simply enjoy myself. Tried to write late last night, but the darn lights in this little flat of mine sometimes flicker so bad, that it's totally distracting. It's like trying to write in an old fashioned silent movie theater.

I have black ants, gotta' go get some ant traps--not that I can afford them, but can't afford to be overrun with ants, either. Just will have to tighten my belt some more. Day before yesterday, there was a huge honey bee wandering around on my pillow in my bed...last night there was a huge black spider crawling around the living room floor...did I mention that I absolutely hate spiders and bees? Not crazy about black ants, either, for that matter. Hammering, insects, and the lights flickering all the time, and no heat in the bedroom...no wonder I got this place so cheap!

May take another stroll downtown later. They just opened some more attractions/hotels/campgrounds etc., so there's probably going to be a lot more people around today.

On the news front: As if we haven't messed up bad enough in Iraq, now we've gone and done something stupid in Afganistan, too. Geez, get rid of the men and put some women in charge! I hope all of you, no matter what your religious point of view is, will join me in praying for the earthquake victims in Indonesia.

Criminals are mostly all morons department: I read the other day, in the paper, how these guys held up a convenient store, stealing, among other things, a box or two of snack cakes. They were quickly apprehended by police---they just followed the trail of discarded snack wrappers to the alleged perps apartment...guess those idiots never read Hansel and Gretel, eh? Reminds me of what happened locally, a few years back: a crook robbed a store in a local small town...fled the scene on foot to his home....in half of foot of freshly fallen snow. And the "DUH" award goes to: The guy in some city (can't remember where, now) who tried to steal a car from a woman at gunpoint...only it was an unmarked police surveilance car and the woman was a police officer.

Got an e-mail a little while ago, from a fellow fan of British comedies. Told me that Dawn French (French & Saunders comedy team, Vicar of Dibley star, etc.) is going to be filming something here in the states with someone named Joanna Lumley (sounds familar, but can't quite place a face to the name). Some may know Ms. French best as the bad opera singer, Major Fortuna in the Harry Potter movies. She's a peach, great comedian. Glad she's finding loads of work.

My stomach feels like an iceberg, and it isn't the BBQ smoked sausage and macaroni salad I had for supper tonight. I'm worried sick about finding another job in 3 or 4 weeks. I'm giving my notice tommorrow. Can't do this gosh-awful job much longer...it's not that I can't handle dirty work, it's the terrible disrespect I get from my fellow employees. Oh, some of wonderful to work with, very nice indeed...but too many of the others are just...well, farm animals. Something I was never told about in my job description. I mean, when they said clean offices, I just didn't have a clue what pigs some of these people were. The hours are not great, the transport costs to and from work are killing me, the pay stinks---I'm working harder and harder and bringing home less and less money--For low-income Americans, the "American Work Ethic" (work hard and you'll get ahead) is pure myth...it simply doesn't exist...the harder the low wage worker works, the less they have to show for it. I get $330 a week...take home (and mind, I haven't even been getting medical deductions yet) is around $273. And the rich need a tax cut? Ha! Talk about taxation without representation....maybe what we all need is another Boston Tea Party..only with oil, ha-ha.

I'm genuinely frightened. If I can't find the money for car insurance, I'm deep sixed. The state of New York is very unforgiving of people without insurance...poor people don't stand a chance, in America...sometimes I wonder when their going to stick us down in the prison in Cuba. I'm being quite serious. The worst thing is...our own people treat us just as bad as any terrorist...it's true.Especially the conservatives. They thrive on hate and ignorance. It's like the McCarthy era all over again...only with the poor, illegal immigrants and liberals as the scapegoats this time.

Anyway, I try not to let these worries eat me up inside, try to go on living like everything's fine and dandy--but it's not, you know? Maybe it will never be, again. I don't think I'm ever going to have money again. I'm losing the war on poverty, and it's a horrible gut-wrenching feeling.

"Victor and vanquished never unite in substantial agreement."--Tacitus, Roman general.

Thought for the day:

While it's true that a kite doesn't fly on yesterday's wind...but as we learned to fly our kites yesterday, so it's best we not forget the past, so we can have a better future.

2006-05-28T16:00:00.000-04:00

Sunday, a day to rest and play catch up with the chores.

It's a hot day, first true hot day of the season (nearly 80 degrees farenheight). Put the air conditioner in. Went and got a few groceries, later may meander down to the park and watch the boats on the lake and the tourists go by. Surfing the net for pics of Lake George. Found a facinating site--if you're a history buff like me. It's a dive center I think that's based in Florida, but they've got some great pics of dives in Lake George, and some of the neat stuff they found there...their main web page has loads of pics from other areas, as well...very entertaining and interesting. Here's the link: http://www.divingdiscovery.com/default.htm for the Lake George pics, just click on the appropriate box on their page.

My sister can't get away as planned to do the cemetery thing we'd planned on for today, hoping to do it in 2 weeks, we'll see. Decided to just hang out at home today, by myself as usual. So what else is new? I'm treating myself to cheap steak tonight---couldn't spring the extra bucks for charcoal, so I could go to the state park for a cook out, but I throw it in the skillet, set in my new/old Adirondack camp chair that I bought at somebody's moving sale yesterday** and listen to the brook out back, the wind in the trees and the birds. I almost bought a fresh ear of corn to go with my steak, but figured I'd best save my quarters for the laundry or cat food, and stick to canned corn or a tossed salad. Anyway, it's Sunday, no hammering, just peace and quiet--until I start the vaccum cleaner, that is. Yup, time to go and catch up with the housework, before it gets totally out of control.

I'm in a ten times better mood than yesterday---PMS, be afraid, be very afraid!

**(I got an authentic Adirondack antique folding camp chair, with a lovely new floral tapestry seat on it, in place of the old canvas one--and it has it's original brown paint, seating-wise, it's very small, but comfy to set on...and it was only $3, cheaper than the plastic chairs you buy at the discount stores.)

2006-05-28T01:46:00.000-04:00

No Doctor Who again, this week. That much less happiness for me, but what else is new, eh?

Ran over a dead deer on the interstate, on the way home tonight. Don't even want to think about what the underside of my car looks like--I know that doe wasn't very pretty, what little I saw of her, anyway...I was going about 70 mph at the time, and it was well after midnight, so thankfully my view was rather fractional, at best.

SOAP BOX TIME: Or, my daily glass of whine.

Semi-quit my job tonight...giving advance notice, of course. This job didn't have to stink, but management (read: big business) has it's collective head stuck up their collective..well, you know...especially when it comes to employee relations (as in, "we have employees? You mean they're not slaves?") The final straw was when I went down to the basement to empty their (other employees) trash, and they dumped all their trash--coffee grounds/coffee, Chinese food, shredded paper, etc--in the barrel without the benefit of the bag, which had collapsed to the bottom of the barrel. American men have become so incredibly lazy and cowardly and stupid, as to be totally incapable of doing a simple thing like reaching in and grabbing the edges of the bag and re-adjusting it, or if that was too much of a challenge for the mindless, helpless little buggers, there was a practically empty barrel--with a good bag--literally less than 2 inches away. What the heck are these "men" so afraid of? American men used to have pride and courage and common sense--they built their own tools, miles of fences out of rocks, turned wilderness into farmland, read and wrote and thought about stuff--and it wasn't at all considered unmanly....about 200 years ago, that is...my how this mighty nation has fallen. Too many people in this country aren't really men and women anymore--they're farm animals. Human beings think. They think and they DO. Farm animals just eat and poop and occaisionally play and have sex. But, this is the post-republican world, and rules and thinking don't matter to these people...they might as well be made of cardboard, they aren't really human, anymore. That's how I feel about it right at this moment, anyway.

I mean, can you blame the foreigners for hating us--we hate the hell out of each other, we treat each other like dirt, so why should foreigners be any different? And so many Americans are becoming absolute pigs and seem to like being livestock--and why not? Livestock gets all their needs handed to them, don't they? Cows don't have to think or do. They just eat, moo, poop, sleep, stroll around the pasture, chew their cuds and get attached to a miling machine twice a day, maybe have a little nookie now and then. Doesn't take much, to be a cow, does it?

Earlier today, I was backing my car up in a parking lot, and this 60-something redneck barmaid type waltzes behind my car while I'm in the process of backing. Even though it was HER fault, I leaned out the car window and told her I was sorry...she promptly walked up to my car window, shook her fist at me and started using language that would have made a longshoreman blush. What for? I was genuinely sorry, even if it wasn't really my fault (she was just standing there talking to a guy when I started backing). The cavewoman even threated to call the cops, until boyfriend dragged her off. I think what happend scared her, maybe, but I apologized. This person is a farm animal. Period. Sub-humans, I'm starting to call them. I mean, at first, I tried to calm her down, thinking she was just upset...but the more I tried to be nice, the worse her language got, to the point where I think she would have dragged me from the car and beat me up...farm animals! I mean, by the time I decided to just try and get the heck away from her, I really hated her. I mean, if they (the terrorists) crashed a plane into her, I wouldn't be sad at all---and I destest feeling that way! Loads of people curse and swear nowadays...because civilazation is rapidly erroding. Courtsey and repect are the very foundations of civilized behavor, and rules/law is the absolute foundation of civilization. But some Americans just seem to gravitate to hate....because, and only because, they are lazy. Do thing right thing is hard. Doing the wrong thing is remarkedly easy. It takes a nothing to do nothing. American heros to American zeros.

Oh, don't get me wrong. While my countrymen often disgust, shame and offend me lately, there's still much good out there. People who do what's right and just, who respect the rights of all people, who still value good manners, who give their time/money/moral support to others--not because it's popular or trendy, but simply...because. People who think and care and act and feel and are not greedy or selfish or meanspirited or morally/intellectually lazy...or, at least, not most of the time. It's easy to be bad, hard to be good. And that's the bottom line, I guess.

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary, the Devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour."--1st Peter, V. 8

Okay, the whinery is now closed for this evening. Bedtime for me.

Sunday, 10:55 am:

Well, how about the mood I was in, yesterday, eh?

Yes, I was feeling very bitter and angry yesterday, and I'm afraid that for once, it very much showed. I was also in a tremendous amout of physical pain and as well as being extremely tired, which didn't help matters along any. Not sure if quitting is a good idea (I hate quitting anything), but this nonsense just can't continue--besides, if I have to live in poverty, at least I can find a job in my own neighborhood, where I don't have to spend $40 or more a week on gas for the car. And maybe my new job/employer will be a little less physically stressful. The hours will most likely be better--not that that is a big deal, but I really am (or at least, used to be) more of a morning person.

I added a counter last night. It's my belief that few people, if any, ever read this blog. However, my co=worker keeps razzing me about airing my personal life/thoughts publicly...so the counter will back up that assumption, anyway.

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2006-05-27T11:02:00.000-04:00

Oh, to be free from this life I'm living.

"I want free life, and I want fresh air;
And I sigh for the canter after the cattle,
The crack of the whip like shots in battle,
The medley of horns, and hoofs, and heads
That wars, and wrangles, and scatters and spreads;
The green beneath and the blue above,
And dash, and danger, and life and love."
--- Frank Desprez, from "Lasca", 1882.

I miss the days when I was younger, and could freely roam the woods, fields and hills of home, whenever life was getting me down. Somehow, out there, I always--always--came home feeling better. I was a part of something, then. I belonged. My little piece of the valley belonged to me, and I equally belonged to it--heart, spirit and soul. I was never alone when I was out there, although no one was ever with me.

I can't find some money, but it's possible one of the cats may have knocked it behind the antique oak dresser that the TV sits on. There's something down there, but my eyesight's not so good as it used to be, and my foot hurts too much for me to manhandle the furniture right now. Darn it, I'm just so very tired.

I realize, now, this morning, that whatever bad's gonna' happen to me, is just gonna' happen, and there's not a blessed thing in the world that I can do about it, so I'll just have to bite the bullet and accept it.

2006-05-27T00:29:00.000-04:00

Very disturbing discovery made tonight:

I came home just now, after a long and ardous night, only to find my front door ajar. Nothing seems to be missing, but I am tired and will finish looking in the morning. At least half my cash in the house is still in its hiding place. Haven't checked the other half. It's well-hidden, so I think it's okay. The computer is still here, as well as the record player. The TV is old, so I can see why someone wouldn't want it. Haven't checked the jewelry box yet, but have nothing of any real value there, either. What if it was the landlords? It's against the law in New York state for landlords to enter your apartment without your permission--unless it's a life-threatening emergency--so I'm hoping that those flatlanders from the big apple know that. If they find out I've still got all my cats, I'm dead meat. I mean that literally.

Emotionally, I know for a fact I can't handle giving up all my cats--and being homeless, too. I've been trying for 2 months to find homes for the cats to no avail. The shelters just won't take them--or they'll take them if I lie and say the cat's are strays--but the cats will be numbed and then suffocated (the shelter's idea of humane treatment). This is how the one shelter does it, anyway. I don't have the cash for the other shelter ($50 each, plus proof of recent shots), and all the other's are full up. I'm on two waiting lists at two shelters....I don't know what to do, anymore. I've no clue. I hate my life so much. I try not to, but nights like this, make me feel so incredibly alone and small.

Sometimes I really do just want to curl up and die, no joke. Then this torture would be over. Done. Forever. I'd finally be at peace, instead of lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what other horrors life's going to throw at me, and what the hell I'm going to do--I feel so powerless and vunerable and helpless all the time, these days. God, I hate being me. I don't blame people for not getting close to me...I don't like me, so why should anyone else? I feel like such an incredible loser, sometimes. Maybe because I am? I don't know, I just don't know anything, anymore. I want out so bad--and I don't see any way that's going to ever happen, short of death.

I try to find something positive in my life each day--but sometimes it's just not there, or it's so small, and it's mostly insignificant. Tonight, as I was taking five, leaning against the rail watching drivers in the pre-race warm up, one of the drivers smiled and waved his whip at me as he went trotting by. That was nice. He was the son (I think) of a friend of mine at work, but I've never met him. That's about the only nice thing that happened to me today.

I spent the night in agony on my bad foot. I have something--a bone I think--sticking out that was never in that particular position before. I was ten minutes late for work (due to the rain), someone attending the free concert, parked right over my garbage bags and boxes that I was about to take out to the dumpster and I seem to have picked up a bit of an alergic reaction to something--in the form of a rash that is presently breaking out all over my body--and, of course, I've come home to the front door thing.

Other than that, I'm greaat!

I caught a few minutes of Ellen tonight in the employee lounge. She's got this thing, called "my crazy dream." So far, I've seen her grant wishes to a pediatric nurse and a rich housewife...not that I begrudge them--don't misinterperet me. I think it's really, really nice, what she (Ellen Degeneris) does. It's just that it made me think about all those "angel" TV shows that used to be on...Highway to Heaven, Touched by an Angel...did you ever notice that the "angels" seldom visited the homeless, or welfare mothers or dishwashers or strugglig farmers or the elderly poor? The recipients were usually WASP's in these shows..(white anglo-saxon protestant, usually middle class, upper middle class or wealthy). Don't mean to be cynical, or sound bitter, honest.

I guess I do a lot of complaining on these pages, I don't know. Maybe I should re-name my blog, "The Whinery--vintage whines for every occaision." I don't mean to be so negative, but sometimes it seems a herculean effort just to stay even a tiny bit positive.

I'm tired, in pain, itchy and worried to the point where my stomach is churning. Maybe I should just go to bed, and try to enjoy the oblivion of sleep.

2006-05-26T12:53:00.000-04:00

"If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching, or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Into his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.---from Life, by Emily Dickenson.

Yesterday, I hugged a troubled co-worker, who later thanked me, and said I made her feel better. Shortly thereafter, I cracked a joke, and turned another co-worker's anger into a laugh. This past winter, I found two lovely, frightened and shivering Siamese cats, abandoned on a deserted mountain road, picked them up and turned them into the local animal control officer--who was able to find them both a loving, permenant home.

The thing is, I've been thinking that maybe I need to re-adjust my thinking. My life is a disaster waiting to happen, true. But maybe I've been obsessing too much over all of the negatives, and not enough on the little positives that I've accomplished. I dunno'. Maybe I'm just grasping at fragile tiny little straws, I'm not sure anymore.

I won't say that I don't spend a lot a time worrying. I sometimes can't sleep over it. Will I be able to pay my bills on time? Will I lose my car insurance? Will I lose my job? Will I be able to buy food and/or have enough gas money for the week? Can I afford more shampoo or dish liquid this week? When will my car break down, and will I be able to fix it? Will I ever find a good job? This and seemingly a thousand other worries, crowd my mind and cloud my heart, and weigh down my very soul every single everlasting day.

On the job front: Last night I came to work and found that management had ordered the dumpsters blocked off from view of the guests in the party tent. The problem for me: the only access now, when I have to haul trash from one of the office buildings, is to get up onto a concrete platform, nearly 2 feet in height, which is very bad for me. This is because it basically hurts like blazes to perform this stunt with my bad foot---which, since attempting it last night, has been throbbing unmercifully all night, and even now achces terribly. To get up on the step (the fence is the vinyl board type, with a decorative lattticework border at the top) I have to grab with both hands onto the latticework and literally haul myself up, bringing the trash up with me after. Then, to add insult to (literal) injury, I have to haul said trash around the fence and back to the dumpsters---basically a long reversed U-Turn.

I've already mentioned management's total unconcern for worker safety, but it seems they are also totally oblivious to the fact that they have disabled, injured and elderly workers, as well. Ah, well, score another big zero for big business. They may have money, but (most) big business also has no soul.

This injury is making my life miserable--as if my life wasn't bad enough, eh? Makes you think about the little casual decisions you make, without real thought, everyday...I mean, if I'd gassed up the car in the morning like I'd originally planned, I never would have been at that gas station that night and tripped on that big gouge in the pavement, and I wouldn't be in agony now, would I? Last week, a guy died instantly in a bad motorcycle crash. If he had just ridden his motorcycle normally, instead of showing off and popping a wheely going on to the interstate on-ramp, he'd definately be alive this very minute, instead of lying in a coffin underground. Little decisions sometimes can impact our lives more than the big ones...funny, isn't it? Or, not, as how you look at it.

Sunday is a holiday weekend, so I'm rising early and going down to pay my respects to my late parent's--despite the cost. I thought I'd take a picnic lunch, and maybe too, I'll make a quick side trip and stop into the open house at the Harness Racing Hall of Fame in Saratoga Springs. That way, the day won't be totally sad and depressing. Standardbreds are great horses, and while I admire thorobreds, harness racing is just so much more...real. (pictured: the late great driver Stanley Dancer with an equally great race horse.)

When I told a co-worker about this blog, she was appalled. She couldn't understand why I would publicize my personal life like I do. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I know all of the reasons, myself. I'm sure only a handful of people have read this blog, which out of a potential of millions of internet users, makes this blog pretty small potatoes. Anyway, I'll leave you with a thought for the day, from Lord Byron:

"The dome of thought, the palace of the soul." And my take: Common sense is the doorway to your soul.

2006-05-25T00:48:00.000-04:00

On losing my resiliency:

I know that the human race is remarkable in it's resiliency (hope I'm spelling that right). Time and again, we have been faced with natural disaster, tragic accidents, plagues and epidemics, war, crime, poverty & famine, slavery, political purges and upheavals, extensive and frequently brutal discrimination, terrorism, deep personal loss, torture and mass displacement and even genocide. Yet still, we spring back, sometimes stronger than ever. Sometimes not. I often wonder if---or when--I'll reach my breaking point...when will my resiliancy become so worn and brittle that it will just snap, altogether?

Not only bad things, but also positive experiences-- can be a life changing--sometimes for the good, sometimes making things worse. I've had a lot of those, over the years: My parent's violent arguments when I was very small, getting my mouth washed out with soap for asking what the "F" word (the bad "F" word) meant when I was around 10, being the victim of a pedophile at 9, getting the George Hoose cowboy painting for my 7th birthday, my first traffic accident, getting hit in the face with a log, my bike accident, being told by my 8th grade math teacher that I was "stupid," my first (and only) horse show, my mom having a grand maul seizure when I was in high school, my parent's divorce, my dog Shamrock dying, the death of a close friend, flunking out of college (my first time around, at 19), going to Wyoming for my 19th summer, meeting celebrities, being secretary in a large local fan club (Dr. Who), leaving my office job to live my dream and work with horses, winning ribbons at the county fair, my first John Denver concert, going to Manhattan for the day with my mom, rowing around an island three times in a heavy fog before I realized it wasn't the main shoreline (don't ask), Being homeless for a month in the mid-90's, going back to college, acting on stage, going with my various classmates to foreign countries--including spending a weekend totally alone in a foreign city, steering a sailboat down a Dutch canal, visiting the Anne Frank Huis (house), seeing Rembrant's "Night Watch" close up, riding a horse in Iceland, swimming in Iceland's "Blue Lagoon," riding a camel at the pyramids, visiting Egyptian tombs closed to tourists (incl. the newly found worker's tombs at the pyramids) riding a feluca (boat) on the Nile, riding a former champion pure white Arab mare in the dunes above the pyramids at night, being yelled at/dressed down in public by someone whom I deeply respected and admired, winning an academic award and getting my first straight A report card and getting a scholarship all in the same year, finally graduating from college, learning to write plays and news articles, not being there when my dad died, seeing my words in print, being forced to drop out of college, almost getting my dream home only to have it yanked away from me at the last minute, almost getting a horse only to have him yanked away from me at the last minute, meeting my friend L___, holding my mom's hand as she died, having to make the funeral arrangements knowing she had no burial money, not being able to find a good job for over 6 months, losing many of my possessions, losing my home, being stuck in a cycle of neverending poverty for the rest of my life...

I've known good times, great times, bad times and sad times...but lately, I seem to be in a real nasty rut. I'm walking a perpetual tightrope between keeping a roof over my head and falling between the cracks of life and being homeless again....and all it will take is not even a gust, to blow me off--no, all it will take is the touch of a feather. That is because all I need to fall off, is the car breaking down, a lost haf-week's pay or worse--a lost job, eviction, any number of things. Things were not great, two years ago...then they started getting worse, now...well, now I just don't want to think about it, anymore. Is mere survival really living? Will things EVER get better again? Will I always be alone for the rest of my life? What will the next bad thing to happen to me be, and how soon? These and other questions have been spinning around in my head for days--months, now. I'm getting so very, very tired and discouraged.

I don't really mind being alone. I can be pretty hard to get along with, sometimes, anyway. My looks won't net me a date (no guy has asked my out first for a date since one time in high school). I've never had a serious relationship. One person swore I was gay, because I had expressed no desire to date, a few years back. Don't think I'm gay...don't feel gay...I'm still a V__n, so what do I know, anyway...and what's wrong with gay people? I think they're just like anybody else--but nicer...'cause, unlike us hetero-sexuals, they've got nothing more to prove, they're just chillin' and enjoyin' life, I think ...

Great! I looked up and one of the cat's is eating my dinner...(canned baked beans and tinned vienna sausages--umm, yummy (not--but it's better than turkey burgers), I think she's into the sausages, actually. Got her face right in there, smack smack...no, by gosh, she licking the sauce off the beans! Hope she doesn't sleep near my face tonight, yuk-yuk.

Well, it's nearly 2am, and I'm finally getting sleepy, so I'll sign off now. Too tired again for a thought for the day--but I'll think about it, ha-ha.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON, 1:19 pm:

Whew! I've put in a full day, and haven't even started work yet! Made breakfast (potato pancakes and lemonade), went to the laundromat, did up the rest of last night's dishes, showered and changed, drove down to work (30+ miles) and grabbed my paycheck (Good news for me: the boss gave me 1 day vacation time to make up for my lost day's work--so maybe he does care a little more than I figured...or maybe he just doesn't want me to quit, I don't know.) Anyway, went to the store and cashed my check, got pet food, stopped and bought an overpriced lousy slice of pizza for lunch, gassed up the car, came home, changed the cat's litter and fed them, picked up my room and spruced up the kitchen a bit more...and I still have to make something to take for dinner tonight...man, am I beat.

Last night was brutal...loads of heavy, heavy lifting, and my foot was sore before I even started. The pain makes me very, very tired..did some extra work, too, cleaning the entry doors to the human resources building--they are putting tables for guests right outside the front door of the office, as it's right by the big party tent that the casino has set up, and I learned long ago (and far away, ha-ha) that first impressions begin at the front door. My last job of the night, putting a heavily loaded bag (some guy in the gaming dept. decided to get rid of all his magazines and catalogs in one throw, and that one waste basket must've weighed over 25 lbs---combined with assorted trash/garbage from about a dozen or so other waste baskets, it was really, really heavy!) I hurt my hand a bit lifting the bag into the dumpster. I need a little cart to take around with me...won't get one, but hey, that's life. Anyway, tonight's my "extras" night--three office trailers in addition to my regular offices...means I've got 7 1/2 hours to clean around 10 different places all over the track--roof to basement, south side to north side, and even in the employee parking lot. It really is a 2-person job, but somehow I manage...but it's wearing on me. I'm so very, very tired by the time Sunday rolls around, that frequently I spend most of the day sleeping...which isn't good.

Well, the toursts and summer people are rolling into the area, already. Promises to be a nice weekend. I'm hoping to be able to drive down to Albany and Schuylerville, respectively, to put flowers on my parent's graves...we'll see..gonna' be an expensive day, what with the gas and the flowers. I'll pack a picnic lunch, so that'll save money, and there's a little mom and pop sub (sandwich) shop nearby the one cemetery, that makes a terriffic potato salad. Maybe I can talk my sister into going down.

Someone's been calling me and not answering the phone right away, which is highly annoying. I just hang up...you snooze, you lose. I figure when I say "hello" and no one says "hello" back right away, it's probably either, 1. a bill collector, or 2. a sales call, or 3. an annoyance call, or 4. an automated computer system. I can go whole days, even a whole week, without a single call, then WHAM! The phone will ring off the hook--usually when I'm just waking up, or getting out of the shower or on my way to work, etc. Murphy's law, I guess.

2006-05-23T17:03:00.000-04:00

From the (semi-)bad day/(semi-)good day department:

Woke up 15 minutes beforehand, this morning, which in this case means 4am! Not because I wanted to, but because J.R., my ambadextrus (extra toes on all four feet) 16 year old tuxedo cat, woke me. Because of her big feet (I assume), she jumps just like a very large rabbit. All the other cats simply jump up onto the bed...not J.R., oh no. She springs up in the air like a jackrabbit and lands all four paws at once...sometimes from halfway across the room. This morning the four pawed pounce landed right on my bad foot. All I can say is, "Ouch!" It didn't just wake me up--it woke me up, all over!

Anyway, I was getting out of the shower, when I slipped a tiny fraction...but it was enough so something nasty in the region of my sprained ankle went "twang!" Couldn't walk on the foot for over 30 minutes...and then I was nearly late for work as a result.

Went over my bills during my break...just can't get ahead...no matter what week it is, every week I only have between $40 and $60 to live on for the week (food/gas/pet food/household & personal items have to come out of this.) If I go absolutely nowhere during my days off, I am just about able to go to work with $40 for gas...only just. I am so bone-weary of working for bare minimum survival! I could give up the phone/internet...but then my prison would shrink to even smaller size...for a mere $40 to $60 a month savings. I'd be trapped in my flat with virtually no communication with the outside world. Every week, I must decide what I can do without...shampoo, soap, dish washing liquid, furniture polish, canned cat food, my food, etc...This is being alive? This is all there is? All there's ever going to be? And people don't understand why other people contemplate suicide? Why other people turn to drugs or violence? Why other people become mentally or physically ill? (Not saying I am any of these..so far, anyway.) Why other people start to hate their country, or simply give up and become homeless? Who wants to live like this? And rarely does anyone, by choice.

Some people live most, if not all --of their lives in relative comfort and ease, taking basic neccessitites totally for granted. Many of these same people have absolutely no concept of what the life of a low-income person is like...it is totally foreign to them...yet these same people breezily dismiss the lower classes' problems, or think that there is an instant easy solution to a problem that may have beein going on for months...or even years..or far worse, blame these people themselves, for being in their situation, and feel that the lower classes must either be unambitious, or stupid or both--neither of which is usually the case. Many low wage workers are undereducated, but many of them are smarter than the people with the big bucks. I josh my friends and tell them that's why we're in the situation we're in---we are just too darn smart for our own good--only dumb people get the good jobs. To make my case, most of the people who don't know enough to flush the john, or walk on a slippery floor at work, are the guys and gals with the higher salaries...I'm serious.

Still, it was a sobering lunch hour...realizing that I'm working hard with nothing to show for it...and getting deeper and deeper into debt every day I grow older. And, realizing that I may never eat decent meals everyday, ever again, or go out and have a good time, ever again, or buy clothes and other items I need, ever again. It doesn't give you much hope for the future...heck, it just plain doesn't give you hope at all, anymore. Five years of sweating bullets to get through college--for absolutely nothing...I gave up five years of my life, for nothing...it makes me sick to my stomach, just thinking about it.

The (Semi-) good news, now: I got a box from the food pantry, today. You can only get 1 box every 2 months...but this is okay. I got stew beef, and ground beef, and tortellini, and mozzerella sticks...and veggies and other stuff. Enough to see me through the rest of the week, anyway.

I got a serious job offer...could truly lead--eventually...very eventually--to a six-figure salary. And they want me to start within a few weeks--the catch: I would have to pay for a state licence, , $199 (re-imbursed, later). And for me, $199 might as well be ten zillion dollars.

This is the fourth good job I've had to turn down for lack of funds. I'm telling you, life totally stinks when you're poor.

Later:

I am glad I got that food...don't know if I could have stood another of those gosh-awful turkey burgers one more night...pretty soon, I was going to look like a turkey burger...and the things they were doing my stomach...I've been dying for some spaghetti...the pasta turned out to be linguini--which I detest, and the sauce was totally bland, but I"m not going to complain...I just ate mostly the meat (I made meatballs out of the hamburger). In hindsight, I probably would have enjoyed it more, if I'd made hot meatball sandwiches instead, but as long as it's not turkey, who cares? I just ate it anyway, and was very, very grateful. God bless all food pantry donors.

I scrounged up some quarters and found a dollar bill in a jean pocket...I couldn't stand the looks on my cat's faces one more minute...they'll eat the dry food okay, but they positively live for they're canned food. Especially little Smiley. She's the baby of the family...tiny little blond buff colored cat, about 3 years I guess...but she still very much looks and behaves like a kitten...tries to nurse off her mother...and me--she "love bites" my chin or arm when she's either happy, or hungry. Smiley's got fur like a downy chick, and she loves to cuddle--with anyone, another cat, a person...but she seldom likes being held. Smiley practically worships her mom, will come and get me if she can't find her...and "mom" does sometimes like to hide. The thing with Smiley is, when she was just a 8 weeks old, she got very, very sick with a resperatory illness...and when cat's can't smell--they won't eat. Period. So I wound up force-feeding her tuna juice to keep her alive...now Smiley will absolutely NOT eat any kind of fish...any kind at all. And she's not crazy about dry food, either. Smilely likes ONE kind of food---sliced chicken in gravy. And she adores milk. She cries for a dish of milk like a little kid for candy. So after having her look reproachfully at me for the ten thousandth time (or so it seems), I went down to the convenience store in town at 10pm to get some cans. Whatd'ya gonna' do? I love them so...and they love me. (I take back what I said about smiley being held. She just climbed into my lap and is kneeding my chest for all she's worth...I do believe she's happy.) Oh, and she's got a new game...tag. Whenever I walk to and/or from the kitchen to the living room or office, Smilely will dash out from behind the rocker, hop on her hind legs like a kangaroo, and swat my pantsleg...then dash off a few feet away and stand with her back arched and with the devil in her eye. It's soooo--cute! I hope I can find a home where she and Kitty (her mom) can stay together. I wish I could keep Smiley, but I;m only supposed to have two cats, not 7. It's really painful to think of breaking up the "family," but I have no choice in the matter. It's especially painful with Smiley, as she was my late mother's cat (and my mom named her).

Besides my plays that I have to write, I'm writing something just for me, for my own amusement...some Doctor Who fan fiction (never to be published). It's something to do, anyway. I figure that since I'm unable to watch the show, anymore, I can at least imagine a few stories and write them down (complete with illustrations). What the heck? Why not, I say. I'm re-reading the book "Spartin" again, and working on a little picture puzzle, to while away the dull hours between writing and housework and naps. Sometimes I watch a bit of TV, but can't always get much in the way of reception. Was watching a rather nice interview with HRH Prince Charles and his boys...then I lost the signal..ah me, that's life.

Well, it's midnight, and I've taken out the garbage and fed the cats and cleared away most of the dinner dishes, now it's time for a hot bath and bed. After going the whole winter without the luxury of hot water, hot baths are the most blessed thing! It's one thing I am truly thankful and grateful for.

2006-05-22T21:51:00.000-04:00

Fellow Dr. Who fan just e-mailed me some interesting news...

According to him (my occaisional e-pal), a joint production is in the works to re-vamp the old series spin-off, "K-9 and Company", with Elizabeth Sladen (pictured, right, with K-9 and latest incarnation of the Doctor, David Tennant) once again in the starring role--and, the most fantastic bit of gossip: It's a joint British-American production, with possibly half of the shoots in the U.K., and half here in America! Wouldn't that be fantastic, if it were true?

I mean, I won't hold my breath or anything...just a rumor, and it may be an old one, at that. But, geez, to have anything relating to Who shot over here..cool---as long as they (the production company) don't mess about with it, like last time (Paul McGann's DW movie, shot here in the us in the mid-90's). Anyway, just hearing this really made my day.

Well, no laundry. I HATE doing business in Warrensburg! Would you believe the laundromat is CLOSED on Mondays? What kind of laundromat closes on Mondays? Been going to laundromats for over 35 years, on and off, this is a new one on me. Warrensburg...good luck trying to shop there, as well. Once again, I tried to buy a couple of cans of cheap cat food from the Family Dollar store...no one there. I mean, no one. It's not that big a store, either. I kept ringing the bell on the cash check out, but no one came...waited, according to the store clock, 7 minutes...no one. And this has happened more than once at this store...weird. Maybe they got time-scooped, ha-ha.

Put in several applications at some of the motels--boy, do post-republican American employers have a bad attitude--you'd think I was asking them to give me all their money, or their first born child, rather than a job. Okay, I guess I should he used to it, after 45 years. You see, well, too many northeastern New Yorkers are often born with their attitudes inserted..umm, where the sun never shines. I'm a lifer, so take it from me, I know whereof I speak. Thank goodness I had a mother from the old school--who wouldn't put up with a bad attitude from me, or I went to my room for the rest of the day. I still remember when I was 19, and I came home from a summer in Wyoming/Montana., back to the city of Albany...wow, talk about culture shock. I remember, the first time I tried to jaywalk in Livingston, Montana--the cars actually stopped and let me cross the road! My jaw must've dropped. I was astounded. I'm serious. Try doing that in Albany, and SPLAT---! I mean, getting chased by a moose in Yellowstone (don't ask), was less scary than trying to cross Central Ave. in Albany at rush-hour, let me tell you.

WHOA! My computer just went absolutely NUTS! My curser started hitting things on it's own--what the heck? All these things started popping up, and wow, really odd, that. I'm not feeling so great anyway...stomach trouble--think it's all those turkey burgers I'm stuck eating every night this week...I don't care if I ever see another turkey burger ever again! (They're awful, by the way.) Late news will be coming on soon, and I have to go to bed early, as tommorrow is my one day to work first shift (6:30am to 3pm), and I have to get up at 4;15. Too sick for a thought for the day, today, sorry.

2006-05-22T17:39:00.000-04:00

You just can't win for losing.

Okay, I was looking forward to a quiet evening at home...ha!

Mr. hammer-happy is at it again...this time on the wall behind my computer desk. Weren't the landlord's just sweet for not telling me they were going to be doing this on my days off, for weeks on end? The one cat is freaking out, hiding in the kitchen cupboard. One of the guys outside my window is cursing at the top of his lungs, while hammering on my outside wall...gee, maybe I can see now why I got this place so cheap (in this resort town $650 a month for a small flat is indeed cheap). Oh, how nice...now they're drilling something...well, at least it's a change from the hammering.,,.whoops, I was off, there. They're now drilling, cursing and hammering. Now that's more like it, guys.

Guess I should get my druthers up and go out to do my laundry for the week. Someday I'm going to have enough money left over to actually do ALL the laundry. I still have about 4 giant garbage bags full of dirty laundry and linens that I accumulated while I was moving. I did manage to do two bags, several weeks ago, but...of course, they are mostly dirty again. Last several weeks have been a challenge just coming up with the three dollars or so to do one or two loads of wash for the week. Thank goodness this place comes with a plethora of closets...don't know where I'd put all that laundry, otherwise.

So, I guess sitting here listening to the handymen and typing a blog entry, isn't going to get the sheep sheared. This isn't a very exciting blog entry, today, I'm afraid. Sorry. I'm off to Warrensburg to wash clothes. Tally-ho!

2006-05-21T22:39:00.000-04:00

One prayer that may have been heard:

I was cleaning the race office yesterday, and the TV was tuned into the Preakness. I had become enamnored with the colt, Barbaro, since seeing him walk away with the Florida Derby...I thought at the time, "my gosh, could we possibly have another Secretariat, here?" This colt is just magnificient~! The look in his eyes when he runs....what every true horseman calls "the look of eagles." And game? Yeah, this is one three-year old with heart. Triple crown winner...I believe it was a real thing, with this horse, so yeah, I believe he was a true contender for the big three.

So when the announmcer yesterday, cried in dismay and yelled, "Ohhh! And Barbaro is being pulled up!" My heart just sank into the sub-basement. Geez, yeah, I went into the ladies room and bawled my eyes out, just like the jockey and probably hundreds--or even thousands of others who saw it. The poor baby was in such pain and confusion--and this was a horse that wore his emotions on his sleeve--you could indeed, see it in his experession. It just plain broke my heart.

I prayed, right then and there..a truly impromtu heartfelt prayer. I asked God to help Barbaro get through this, and if He couldn't, to help him pass on in quiet dignity. Today, the report is that Barbaro is doing better than expected, and "is being very brave." I know enough about horses to know that this sort of injury is almost always fatal to horses, so this was good news. If Barbaro can keep his spirit through all of this, and recover...well, his career is over, of course, but maybe one of his offspring might inherit his heart, along with his spirit and stamina...but, for a horse that lives to run, like this one does, to never run again is almost a sin.

2006-05-21T13:03:00.000-04:00

Thank God (Bless his name) for common sense:

Got an e-mail this morning in response to one of my "43 things" posts, "modern debtors prison."
This guy claims that in weeks I can have an "income people dream about." I dunno', I can dream about a pretty sizable wad a dough. "No gimmick." Yeah, and telling people you can get them a great income in weeks isn't a gimmick? Riiight. Think about it...if this was such a great deal, people woud be falling over themselves to get in on it, and this guy wouldn't need to e-mail his pitch to total strangers. Think-about-it.

I swear, the poorer I get, the more and harder total strangers try to rip me off for what little dough I have left. Stupid, but true. Maybe they clean bathrooms for a living, too, ha-ha. Yea! Ramsey Lewis' song is on again (Oh Happy Day). This song makes me feel so incredibly upbeat, I love it! I wish I could afford to buy it (the music), I'd be playing it all the time. Anyway, these spam e-mails from foreign con artists show me why these people are con artists and find actually working for a living impossible---they're genuine morons...even dumber than Bush. According to my e-mails, I've won various foreign lotteries several hundred times since Christmas. I mean, c'mon! Some people have way too much free time on their hands...and not enough brains or courage to get through life under their own power with. Thank goodness I will never sink that low. Can you imagine, spending all your waking hours e-mailing total strangers that they've won a fictional lottery or some other crazy scheme to make money illictly? Makes me realize that maybe my life isn't so bad, afterall. Think about it, though...if I had money to throw at these people, would I be sitting here on my day off, writing in a boring ol' blog and eating instant chicken noodle soup, my third tuna fish sandwich and potato crisps for lunch? --My third such meal in a row (two yesterday, and today)? Think about that... I ain't eating tuna because I can't get enough of it. After this week, actually, I don't think I'd care if I see another tuna sandwich (or scambled eggs, too) ever again. I should be grateful I have at least that, but I love cooking and it's fustrating not to be able to at least cook myself a nice dinner, some weeks.

I'm exhausted...and ticked off a little. I worked a 12 hour day, yesterday (3pm to 4am). Finally got into bed shortly before 6am...and the landlord's handyman decided...in the rain, mind...to work on the roof...right directly over my bed....hammering metal roofing sheets...at noon-time today. I tell you, I was ready to go out there and take his ladder away from him, and leave him up there. I'm serious.

Bad news has a way of meandering into my life every week or two. This week: can't pay my car insurance...probably will have it canceled. The guy, this Mitchell from Albany, who bought my trailer...never paid the rest of the security deposit as agreed to. Now I have to come up with $650 somehow...it might as well be $650,000! I can't get my wipers fixed, the car is still burning oil, the batteries are going and so is one of the tires, again. And I cannot get another car, period.

I toyed with the idea of wandering down to the lake to watch the boat parade, today. But not in the rain. I like the rain, but today I'm too tired to deal with it.

Two weekends from today is the Elvis Festival in town, so I'll have to leave really early to get to work on time, because of the traffic. I just pray to heaven that the village had the sense this year not to schedule the volunteer fireman's convention parade the same day again...not smart. What a circus that was, last year. Hundreds of fire trucks, thousands of firemen and their families...and thousands of Elvis fans too, all converging on one little village at the same time...ouch! And a week or two after that, is the nasty old Americade motorcycle rally...tens of thousands of screaming, roaring, puttering cycles going by everyday....seriously clogging the roads...some of them going way too fast, the rest way, way too slow. Yuch!

Starting work on my second play in the series. Gotta' e-mail the first draft of the first play, to the student tonight...it's awful, but without any imput from her, I think I did okay. This next one I'm not even bothering to consult her on...she doesn't seem willing to put any work into it...so I might as well write whatever I like. Still ruminating on characters...got the setting and the bare bones of a plot...but it's the characters that make any play come to life.

I must be tired...my writing is very, very dyslexic (No clue how to spell that, and can't find my dictionary, sorry). Anyway, I'm transposing letters like crazy, today. Current song is really pertinent to how I'm feeling, lately..."Heaven is Ten Zillion Light Years Away." I'm hoping that there'll be an opening in the surveilance department at work, soon....ten bucks an hour just to sit and look at tv monitors all day....I work my big behind off all day for a miserable $8.25, and these people in surveilance are complaining that they're "bored?" My job is incredibly boring...but also back-breaking and dirty....maybe they'd like to swich?

Gosh, I miss Dr. Who. It really gave me something to delight in, for roughly an hour a week. Now it's back to the same ol', same ol' grind. Sometimes, life's a real drag. I wish I could go out somewhere today...but no cash...not for gas or shopping or a movie or a book, or anything. That's why surveilence would be good for me...boredom is something I have to cope with, nearly every waking hour of each day.

LATER:

Arrgh! The handy-guy finally stopped banging away inches from my head. I decided a while after that to go back to bed for a nice Sunday nap...well earned nap, I might add, after a 12 hour shift. An hour later...yup, BANG-BANG-BANG~! Just inches from my head, again. I'm telling you, I was ready to chew nails! It was such a temptation to just yank that ladder away from the side of the house...I"m serious. I was steamed! I'm so fustrated, that I'm sitting here scarfing the last of the the chilli-cheese flavored potato crisps. So I went out instead, down to the village park, for a nice quiet stoll along the lake, down by the smaller beach. Yeah, it was quiet, all right....for about 15 minutes. Then a bus load of tourists came by--with their screaming kids in tow. Oh, they seemed nice enough, but when you were looking just a little, for peace and tranquility, it's--well, it stinks, quite frankly. Oh, well, not sure I should be doing too much thinking right now, anyway.

It upsets me to no end, knowing that I work so hard, and have virtually nothing to show for it. I'm hungry and I HATE turkey burgers and I;m not crazy about eggs, either---especially without catsup. I daydream about being able to go into the grocers and buy whatever I want. Today, I'd give anything--right at this moment--for some spaghetti, or a steak, or stew, or roast chicken dinner...or, by gosh, even a hot dog with the works or a Big Mac! It's 7:20 PM (EST) and mister "I've gotta' hammer, an' I"m gonna' use it" is still at it. He started at noon.

The sun did finally come out today, which is why so many people were around. It was actually kind of difficult, seeing all those people strolling around, laughing and having a good time, knowing that I can't be one of them...maybe ever again. All I want out of life right now, is a decent-paying job...that's all I want. To heck with my dreams...what good are they? I don't care anymore...I just want out of this lousy prison I'm in. I may not have bars in my flat, but when you live alone and you have no money, it's virtually the same exact thing.

Don't get me wrong...I'm aware that at least I have a safe, decent place to live, and yes, I am grateful. But, when your're poor and surrounded by luxury and wealth, it's a lot harder on you, then if many of your neighbors were in the same boat you are.

Gosh, I'm tired. And I still have a headache. Ah, well. At least I have this blog to keep me busy. Think I'll actually watch some television tonight. Oh, the lake was beautiful today (photo above), if a bit on the chilly side--feels more and (the sky) looks more like October than the end of May, but it's supposed to get nicer later in the week. My foot will likely always bother me, and it still hurts 24/7, but I can sense that it is getting better--at least, I'm better able to walk on it, and can almost walk down stairs like a normal person, now.

Tommorrow, after doing the laundry, I'm making the rounds again of the various hotels/motels on the strip, to see what I might find in the way of a part-time job. I'm sick of not having enough food, or being able to pay my bills on time, or worrying about feeding the cats, or having enough gas to go to work each day, and staying home day after day, week after week, because I can't afford to go out. At least at my old place, I could go out and garden or play horseshoes or darts, or go hiking and stuff...here...I have to drive to go walking (the street behind me is a boring dead-end to the interstate, with nothing much to look at), and I live upstairs, so no gardening, and I gave my horseshoe and dart sets away to my sister in Vermont..(huge sigh). Like I said, trapped. Oh sure, once things dry out, I can go sit by the brook out back...but that's about all. It's Spring, and I've got cabin fever....which around here, you're only supposed to have in Jan. or Feb.! But at least I did get out for a bit to enjoy the mountain scenery, if only for a few minutes.

Thought for the day:

Find one thing--just one---to appreciate each day.

2006-05-20T12:36:00.000-04:00

Maybe I should re-name this blog.

I got an e-mail from a young woman this morning. I didn't post it in "comments" because she asked me not to. Until the last few days, I wasn't even aware that anyone was even reading this blog. This young lady told me that she found my blog "entertaining." It made her sad, she said, and it made her laugh. Wow. I can understand the sad part...although I'm honestly not playing for sympathy when I write, truly I'm not--although, I admit, sometimes I am feeling a bit sorry for myself without meaning to. But "funny?" Okay, yes, I make the occaisional lame quip now and then, but never considered myself to actally be "funny." Huh. I Wasn't trying at being amusing, but whatever floats your boat. It was nice to know that someone's getting something out of this, besides myself...but it's kind of a weird feeling, too.

Maybe I should change the name of the blog to something like: "Lifestyles of the not rich and not famous."

Well, guess I'll find out this afternoon if I still have a job...or maybe they'll wait until Monday, when the human resources dragon lady comes in. Well, I lost a day's pay yesterday, and my windsheild wipers on my car still don't work, and my car insurance isn't getting paid this week, and I have crap to eat for the rest of the week, and can't afford canned cat food for the cats, and probably not enough gas to go to work for a full week, again. Nothing left worth selling in the house, and I got turned down for yet another job this morning. Other than that, I'm just lovely.

It's not raining (will miracles never cease?), but I still have to leave early. The on-ramp to the interstate at my end of town is still closed while they fix the overpass or whatever, and I have drive through town again...and today's the town-wide yard sale....and the "Queen's Great Boat Race" on the lake. The queen, in this instance, refers to the lake--billed as "Queen of the American Lakes." The race is between the various cruise boats...large and small. One of the small one's overturned last fall, and killed over 20 seniors. Not sure the race is tactful this year, but..what do I know? Will miss the fireworks, tonight, because I'm working...hope the noise doesn't scare the cats too much.

Listening to Ramsey Lewis and "Oh Happy Day." Great upbeat jazz rendition of a wonderful gospel tune. Petting "Boots." He's curled up on my lap, his big white paws gently going in and out on the leg of my jeans. Now they're playing "put your records on." Like that one, too. Smooth jazz is great stress relief, at least, I think so. My hair's still wet. Not sure if I'm ever going to get a hairdryer...or a new pair of jeans, for that matter. Or a new anything, any time soon. (Sigh.) I was hoping that maybe I'd have enough left over this week to go out yard saleing. Get a lot of good stuff I need (and sometimes don't need) at sales. Was hoping to find used jeans, hairdryer or some other things....oh well, I can always daydream that I have dry hair, yuk-yuk.

I miss going for a drive in the country. It's such a great relaxer for me..especially when I can get good tunes going in the car and the day is nice, and the road is scenic and winding...ah well, maybe I can daydream about that, too.

Well, have to come up with something to take for dinner tonight...probably more tuna fish. I'm running out of mayo, and now I'm out of catsup...always happens...just when I bought a dozen turkey burgers. :(

Found a picture of something on my Things I Want.com list and went in and inserted it. Looked at my counter....201. Whoa. 201 total and absolute strangers checking out my list...I've said it before, say it again...why? Whatever turns 'em on, I guess. Another nice song, "Do it again" with Phillip Saisse. Not bad, but sadly, I have to go. Cross our collective fingers and hope that I still have a job.

2006-05-19T10:19:00.000-04:00

Rainy day (yes, again), some thoughts on my job. ..and my life in general....and other stuff.

At work, most or all of the 500 to 600 employees were required to undergo "GuestPath" training. This is a customer service/customer relations seminar. Nice idea, but wasted, with the present attitudes of current management. Said attitude being: "we try to give them incentives... (more on this later)...but if they're (hourly wage workers) unhappy here, they can always leave and go somewhere else." (almost a direct quote, by the by, from an executive.)

Now forgive me if I'm wrong, but if the hourly employees are not happy, wouldn't they be less than enthusicastic about making the customers happy? Oh, they may go through the motions--as required by the job--but the effort won't be sincere, in many cases. The "incentives" I mentioned, mostly consist of 1. a "team member of the month" award (a day off with pay, some balloons, their photo in the monthly newsletter and a gift certificate for dining at the casino restaurant). The catch is, out of hundreds of hourly workers, and many dozens of salaried employees, only 3 or 4 can win per month. Some winners have said that they'd rather be thanked personally, for the job they do, by their bosses on a regular basis, rather then win some award once a year. Makes sense to me. Other incentives: 2. Big screen TV in the employees lounge. 3. $2 lunch/dinner buffet. 4. Free hats and uniforms. 5.Occaisional seminars...like a stress relief seminar..that people have to go to on their own time---like everyone can spare the time off to go into work/stay late. 6. Suggestion incentives (free movie tickets if they take your suggestion)--only most suggestions are not taken, and a lot of trees are wasted by them telling you (politely) they don't give a damn about your suggesion. Big whoop.

If management at the racino really gave a hang about their employees, they don't do it in a REALISTIC fashion.

By realistic, I mean, safety and concern and caring. Employees in various departments are all treated differently. Office workers are given birthday parties and have raffles and stuff. Gaming workers are treated with considerably more care and concern then, say, maitenance or food workers. Safety? That's a laugh. Food and maintenance workers lift and carrry heavy items all the time...are they given back belts or shown safety videos? Ha! When an accident occurs, does management inqure about the worker's well-being...Ha! They're more worried about the equipment malfunction, or the loss of a worker then the worker's needs. Heavy equipment operators don't wear hard hats, lawn workers don't wear googles and ear protection, if a problem is seen and reported...it might or might not be taken care of right away...team member of the month...ha-ha!

In my department, the boss only talks to you if someone (a higher up) complains to him about something. It would literally...literally, NEVER occur to this guy to tell his people that they are doing a good job, or to thank them in any way. Not only that, but if there's a problem, or an employee needs something...he/she might get a response...eventually....if, and I mean, if, he or she constantly reminds the boss about it. Not that the boss is ever around much. The guy can't even answer the phone right. He's definately more obsessed with how he looks to management, then with what's going on with the people in his department....the impression left with these employees is that they (the employees) simply don't matter..."we're expendable" is how one employee put it to me. Not good.

The best hourly job I had, years and years ago, management was constantly trying to engage the employees interest in the job...and, by heavens, it WORKED! The employees were happy, the customers were thrilled...it was truly a win-win situation.

How did they do it? They c-a-r-e-d. And they showed it. The boss was always out there, seeing if things were going okay...he'd actually high five the employees, and personally tell them that he appreciated them being there and for the work that they did. Now there was a boss! This guy would hold breif weekly meetings--complete with coffee and donuts-- in the break room, to find out what the employees saw that needed fixing, or what problems were going on, or what suggestions employees might have. It was great! And managers always asked daily what the employee might need...didn't wait for the employee to come to them. One time an employee was injured--and the manager stayed right there with the guy...and even offered to drive the guy's wife to the emergency room! Now there's a place that cares! And safety at this resturant was a priority...not for insurance purposes, but because management cared.

The racino...memo happy. They have virtually no contact with the hourly's...especially the non-gaming (gaming is where all the money is, so management really is paranoid and unhealthily obsessed with money and profits) employees. Yeah,e-mail memos abound at my job...and hourly workers could care less. Racino management doesn't interact with employees...it's sends stupid memos all the time. They have a 10% discount card for downtown businesses...except that most hourly employees...except for wealty retireees and those with lucritive second jobs or who make a decent wage at the racino....a majority of workers simply cannot afford to shop in the trendy downtown area...that's what Wal-Mart is for. So another memo bites the dust. Overall reaction in my department to the stress management seminar memo ranged from: derisive snorts to raspberries to words I cannot repeat here in mixed company...does that tell you anything? Many hourly workers have all they can do to keep the roof over their heads and food on the table...and mangement doesn't not only understand this...they arrogantly pass off worries of these people by telling them to get another job if they complain. Sound like someone you'd like to work for?

Oh sure, there's some great people working there...but they are rapidly becomeing a minority.

Customer service begins at the lowest levels..value and care about your employees--and show it on a regular basis, and chances are the employees with value and care about the customer--and take pride in how he or she does the job. And SGR (my employer)....? Chances are they will NEVER get that. Never. They have their heads stuck up their bottom...line so far, that they'll probaly never see the light of common sense in this lifetime.

Okay, I'm done bit__ing about my job. Okay, not. Ugh! Once again a certain office bathroom was totally disgusting last night. They pays these guys...what? $40,000, $50,000, $70,000 a year? And they (management guys) can't even do a simple thing like flush a urinal? They are way overpaid, if you ask me. That's what's wrong with SGR...they hire lazy pigs, that's what is reflected back to the emloyees. The hourly's get signs in their restrooms about flushing, but management takes extreme offence at even the barest suggestion that they don't flush. Maybe they figure that they are so far above the rest of us, they they (management) should have their pee flushed for them. Anyway...it's disgusting, and quite frankly, they don't pay me enough money to have to flush for some lazy executive. Monday, it's back to the job hunt...I've been getting very discouraged lately...but nasty pee is an excellent incentive, don't you think?

Didn't mean to be disgusting, but the job is dirty and painful and tiring enough, without having to deal with this crap. I've resloved though, to making my co-workers feel better about themselves. Morale is in the basement in my department...only because no one thinks anyone (management) gives a damn about them...they're right about that, actually...but I do care, and, though I'm the lowest of the low at SGR, I'm going to start showing my co=workers that I think they matter. Put some of the lessons I learned years ago from the positive resturant, to use in my everyday work life...probably they (co=workers) will think I'm nuts (actally, I am), but what the heck? It's worth a try, anyway.

Finances department:

Well...I have $441 in the bank...once again, I mis-added/wrong subtraction or something, (God curse my dyscalculia!) I thought I had $510...big difference. And a paycheck for $278 (God bless overtime). So, while I can pay my $650 rent tommorrow, I cannot pay for my car insurance...which is very bad indeed. Technically, I could pay my car insurance today (it's due today), but then that would leave me with absolutely nothing to eat or any gas for my car for a whole week....who says life on the financial edge of the cliff isn't fun? I wish I could afford a financial manager...but only rich people can do that...I'll just have to keep crossing my fingers for luck, week-to-week, and hope for the best.

Next week, if my electric bill isn't too steep, I might actally have enough left over to go visit mom's grave...but not holding my breath. I also have to pay the phone/internet bill...$66.

Is it any wonder people get suicidal, though? For some of us, life is just a total no-win situation. And I swear, if one more person says to me, "Well, you'll just have to find yourself a better job," I swear I'm going to deck him or her. I've been keeping track, you see? Since mid-Nov. of 05, I've placed approximately 457 applications and/or resumes into the hands of prospective employers. It makes me truly sick to my stomach. I mean it. It makes me feel like garbage just thinking about all those rejections. It's not like I'm looking in a specific profession--like acting or journalism or accounting (Ha! there's a joke.). I've become less and less picky with every passing day. Even just 75 cents more an hour ($9.00) would make my life a bit better. But I'm a prisoner in my own life, trapped behind the bars of low wage employment, and higher wage job rejection.

And my car still needs windsheild wipers...and it's pouring rain outside. I really do hate my life...but I"m stuck with it, and I guess there's nothing I can do about it...God knows I've been trying, but after 6 months...I don't know anymore...I just don't know...I keep waiting for the hammer to drop on me again. There's never going to be any security or stability in my life again, is there?

I've been trying to procure a car loan, but I can't even get a $100 payday loan, so I'm not holding my breath. Well, I have to go to my Godawful job now. It wouldn't be so bad, if I thought management cared...it's hard when you put a lot of yourself into a job--especially a dirty thankless menial job like mine, and no one gives a damn...no one. I used to give 110% to the job, do a lot of stuff that wasn't on my "list" of things to do, but now, not so much anymore...no one ever gives a damn...especially my boss, so why bother...it's enough that I do the work of two people each night, why knock myself out for an indifferent boss/employer, right? My foot makes work difficult, some nights...what with the stairs and the physical labor and all the walking up and down, one end of the facility to the other night after night...it's never going to heal, now...and that depresses me, too.

LATER THAT DAY...

Well, I'm forced to miss a day of work..hope I don't get fired. Couldn't see to drive the car, between the heavy rain and fog...decided a loss of pay is worth more than a wrecked car and possible hurting someone because I can't see 'em....especially since I can't pay my insurance now.

I went online job searching...nothing, as usual...everybody wants the instant ideal employee and someone like me who's been off the market for quite a few years, and has a past history of disablility, and a lousy credit rating, doesn't stand a prayer in post-republican America. Sure, I have years and years of phone experience, and I'm really great at helping people, but not it's not recent experience...and I'm not neccessisarly "computer proficient"...I'm still struggling with Excel...and probably always will be. Many employers today won't even talk to you, unless you've had 6 months recent steady employment--no matter what your reason (family illness, accident, baby, retirement, homemaker, etc) Doesn't matter to the hiring Nazi's. And in the post-republican era, many interviewers are nasty and full of venom, before you even say "hello" to them. And, worse, a lot of employers will...and they don't tell you this up front...CHARGE you for the privlige of hiring you. I was charged $99 out of my first 3 paychecks to pay for my licence. Ohter jobs (sales, mostly) charge you hundreds of dollars to start with...again, not telling you until AFTER the pitch...it stinks trying to get a job in the new milenium.

I got a nice e-mail from a young person, which I posted in my comments. I originally meant this blog as mostly a personal (but public) diary, of sorts. Just because I so seldom have anyone to talk to, so I just use this blog as a way of thinking out loud, talking to myslef, stuff like that. But I never thought anyone would actually find it, let alone want to read it.

I am glad though, that maybe someone else out there may be feeling less alone, knowing that he or she is not alone in his/her problems. Hey, a whole lot of us have lousy lives. Some days the problems can be an overpowering burden to your soul. Maybe by reading this blog, someone else will start his or her own "inner dialog" on a blog and start feeling better about themselves. That would be nice, I think. It's hard, being alive.

Living can be a nightmare..or just a plain old drag..especially if/when you find yourself surrounded by un-thinking, un-feeling, totally obtuse, cardboard people who are oblivious to the common everyday suffering and hardship of their neighbors and/or co-workers--and refuse to look around and think and see what's really going on in the world.

These people seem to think the world's black and white (or if they're rednecks, mostly white, hee-hee). They refuse to believe in the complex, multi-colored layers that really make up the universe. They can be mean and incredibly petty, when things aren't the way they think they should be, or someone questions their beliefs, or, as is in my case recently, they are confronted with life in the real world, outside their protective pearly-white upper-middle class bubble. It's hard, and it hurts.

When dealing with people like that (including a close family member), I feel like either getting in his/her face and screaming at him/her to "wake up and join the human race," or just laughing at his or her superficiality. Not that it woud probably do any good. Wish I had my own dalek. Roll ol' thunderguts out of the closet..."EX-TER-MIN-ATE!!" and that would change the air real quick, wouldn't it, ha-ha? Or maybe not. Can people like that, ever change back to human again, once the conservative dark side has taken over? I've though for years that Regan and Bush and their friends had tapped into the dark side of the force, now we see the proof, Ha-ha-ha! Now GB and company want to make English our national language--two hundred and thirty years after this nation was founded. Lately, the far right is really showing their true colors: White robes with little pointy hoods, hee-hee.

STILL LATER:

Rainy days are just so conductive for grousing and griping, aren't they? Little Flame is curled up in my lap. She's a little put out with me, because I didn't buy the brand of microwave popcorn she likes...the vending machine only had light butter, and she prefers the movie theatre butter...so do I. Flame just scarfs it down like a person would..."crunch, crunch."I remember how Sham loved her special treat. (My dog, that I had as a teen, Shamrock, she used to be that way with Friehoffer chocolate chip cookies.) You used to let her take one delicately in her mouth...and she would almost suck on it, to savor every last bite. Well, Flamey is just so chipper and loving these days. She's really starting come come alive again. So many changes for their little cat brains to deal with...but they cope better than I do, sometimes. Resilant little creatures, cats.

Arrgh! It kills me not to be able to watch Doctor Who tonight. Oh well, gotta' be resilant like the cats, and just deal with it, I guess. Missed the Ellen show today, too. The New Doctor Who is really fab. Eccleston's "Unknown Child" episode was fantastic! It not only spooked me a bit...but an older woman (first time viewer) that was sitting behind me. I'd hate to think what it did to the kids, over there...probably nothing, kids are like my cats, these days, ha-ha.

I had exactly $20 to buy a weeks worth of groceries with. Came to a little over $19--and I still haven't bought any canned cat food or kitty litter, yet. Ouch. For my $20 at Wal-Mart I got: 1 dozen eggs, imitation cheese slices, a box of 12 frozen turkey burgers, a loaf of bread, 2 cans of tuna fish, 4 cans of assorted veggies, frozen potato wedges(chips, if you're a Brit), juice, quart of milk, bottle of ginger ale, box of instant chicken soup, and a 3.5 lb. bag of dry cat food. That's what you can buy with $20 at a cheap grocery store in the northeastern U.S., these days, and that's my food for the week (huge sigh). I'll make it work, somehow. I usually do.

I have $41 dollars between now (Friday night) and Thursday. Not nice. My electric bill came in. You used to get 30 days to pay, but now National grid gives you two weeks. National Grid stinks! I hate 'em. Niagara Mohawk Power wasn't much better, but they weren't money-hungry animals, like NG, either. "Nimo" used to give you a whole month, like normal utilities. Now, next paycheck, I gotta' come up with $79 for electric, and $66 for telephone. Doesn't leave much to live on, does it? Man, I wish I could get a second or better job! Give me a reason to want to get up in the morning, jeez.

It's hard, when things are rough, and you're feeling down, not to just whither away your hours daydreaming or fantaszing. (By the way, please excuse the spelling/punctuation, I feel, this is my personal blog, so I'm not going to obsess with perfect writing here.) I mean, it's tempting for me to just lay in bed or sit around and daydream about things being better, or something really cool or (nice) exciting happening to me. Like what? Like, having the Queer Eye guys show up out of the blue and give me/my home a cool makeover (yeah, I know, but nothing says a daydream can't be dumb). Or, say, like winning the lottery, or meeting a celebrity, or getting work writing or talking for a living or working in a museum or on a movie set, or someplace neat like that. Or having my work published or put on stage, or winning a car/truck, or just making enough money, that I never have to fuss about paying bills and can walk into a grocery store and buy whatever the heck I want, or being able to just go out to a restaurant or movie whenever I want...but

I don't want to get trapped within my prison, daydreaming my life away. That's one purpose of this blog, to keep me busy, so things won't eat away at me inside so much, that I retreat into a shell and maybe never come out again. Severe depression and/or constant worry will do that to you...sometimes without you ever being aware of it.

Thought for the day:

Keep your feet on the ground, your eyes on the horizon, your head level, your heart open, your spirit free and your soul honest.

2006-05-18T12:43:00.000-04:00

"Oh, what a beu-tif-ul morning...."

C'mon everybody, sing!

It's payday, yippeee!

And, after a week of constant rain, it's a lovely, lovely day outside. The sky is lapis blue, the sun is shining like a sparkling jewel, there are gorgeous white puff-ball clouds drifing across the mountaintops, the leaves are bursting lush green from the maple, ash, hackberry and other trees, the lilacs, dogwood and crabapple are all in bloom...(deep sigh) :)

... and I can pay my rent...I think, tommorrow. ...and quite possibly, even my car insurance, and still have enough left over for a load of laundry...food, well, that's another kettle of fish ('scuse the pun). But it's simply too nice a day to worry about that. Think I'll even scrounge up four quarters from my piggy bank (actually, it's my late mother's "garden angel" bank) and bet on a horse tonight, that I watched work out yesterday. :)

Well, if I didn't have to go to work today, I'd be out strolling--yes, even with my gimpy foot--down by the lake. It's the perfect day for it...or, if I were rich, I'd be--again, even in spite of my bad foot--riding a horse. I guess I can always just close my eyes and pretend that I'm fabulously wealthy and have a horse and cart that I can just go out and drive around town whenever I want, ha-ha, but it's not the same. :)

This computer is driving me wonky. It stalls when I turn it on (won't reckognize the mouse), so I have to turn it off and try again...and worse--as a writer--frequently, when I want to make a change in some words on the page, it won't insert the new words properly...writes the new stuff over the stuff I want to keep..just totally "eats" the existing words that I want to stay in, so I have to either, A.--re-write the entire sentience all over again, or B.--save the item, log out, and go back in to try again. Pain in the lower posterior. Now wonder "Northgate" computers went out of business. Never buy a computer from a smooth-talking Staples salesman...go to a REAL computer store, or consult an expert. :(

Got cats?? I have. Two in my lap this afternoon. Half-blind Flame and chubby Charlie. Charlie takes up the whole lap, and then some. Flame has to perch on my shoulder. Charlie has a funny purr...he actually purrs through his nose...sort of a breathe-purr. Sounds weird. :)

I'm so sad about not getting to see Dr. Who at work, anymore. It was the one thing that I had in life to look forward to. As the Irish would say, "Feck!" Maybe, when I can find the time, I'll amuse myself by writing some fan fiction...make up my own story...and I can still read online stories and see online clips...but definately not the same. :(

This weekend is the big town-wide yard sale and flea market in Granville (slate quarry town on the NY/VT border)...and I'm broke and have no one to share the trip with anyway, so I guess I won't be going this year. Missed the Fort Anne town-wide sale last week, too. I miss going to these things...not the same without mom...it's so much more fun to go with a companion...to show off your finds or just for the conversation. :(

Going to attempt to cut my own hair again, this weekend. (Yikes!) It's getting a bit Shetland ponyish again, lately. Wish I could afford a decent haircut..haven't had a perm in years...but my hair's so fine now, it probably wouldn't take, anyway. I wish I knew how to do make-up and stuff like that...gosh, I'm getting ugly...I mean it! I'm beginning to look like my Polish babushka grandmother! I'm serious. Not that I date or anything, or go anywhere...still, I wonder what it would be like to actally get one of those makeovers? Probably would take two hundred stylists and a forklift truck to get me looking decent (wink). :)

Messed about with my 43 things list, earlier, out of sheer boredom. http://www.43things.com/person/justnancy So, anyway, it's gettin on in the afternoon, and I have to get ready for work and finish the washing up of last night's dishes (sigh.)...then it's off to the bank and work...dull, dull, dull. Wish something nice/exciting would happen...but, at least my car is mostly working (knock wood), I have a job, there's still food in the cupboard, and I've the cats and one station on the tele. So, guess I shouldn't complain.

2006-05-17T10:32:00.000-04:00

Some wishes do come true department: Last night I was lamenting my long-time, pizza-less state. Today, a friend that I haven't seen in ages (over a year and half), who lives a couple of towns away, stopped by to say hi...she brought pizza! Not just pizza...a HUGE pizza. Said they'd had a party last night, and had one left over and she knew I loved pizza, so she brought it down from the house for me.

This is what I meant in my last post. Sometimes, my daily life drags me down into a prison so deep and dark, that it honestly doesn't seem hardly worth the living anymore...then stuff like this, happens.

A little kindness, a bit of thoughtfulness, and things seem a little better, in a blink of an eye. It's why I honestly try to do something nice, or say at least one nice thing, to someone each day--even if it's someone I don't especially like very much, still--it really can make a difference in someone's day. Don't I know it?

As for more mundane matters: my foot is still throbing to beat the band. I don't think it's ever going to heal. It's a bad feeling I have, that I'm never going to walk right, ever again. And my doctor (whom I've yet to see--I only rate a P.A. or nurse on account of my poverty--true.) and my lawyer (who's supposed to be trying to get me money for the two days pay I lost and any bills that aren't covered) doesn't even talk to me, doesn't give a hang. Walking/standing/working on my feet all day is torture...no exaggeration. And there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. The foot hurts waking or sleeping, and I feel it's likely to be that way for the rest of my life, because I know now that I'm probably never, ever going to get that desk or driving job I want/need.

I pretty much give up. I'm tired...not just physically, but deep-down in my soul, old before my time tired. I don't know if I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I wanted so badly, worked so hard at, school for a decent future....and, I can see now, that it just isn't in the cards. And, God, it hurts so much inside, knowing that not only did I let myslef down, but failed miserably in the process. All I have is one day, followed by another and another. All I have. I am a loser, but I know things could be worse. I still have a roof over my head (for now, anyway) and I didn't lose all my possessions, I have those little plays for the film student (that hopefully I will eventually get paid for), and I do have a few good friends--even if I rarely, if ever, actually see them. So I don't ever have any real "fun." So what? So I'm in pain. So what? So I'll probably never have a decent job. So what? So maybe I can't always eat good or pay all my bills... At least, today, the car mostly works, I have a home, a pizza, my cats, the internet, a tv set that gets a decent station, and a job (low-wage, but a job).

ADDENDUM: 12:59 am.

Well, wasn't tonight just fun? Man, some of the office rest rooms weren't pretty tonight. Yuch! No wonder Iraq and America are in such a state, when American adults can't even do simple stuff like flush toilets, or ignore signs (on bright pink paper, taped right where they have to open the door, in bold black lettering."Closed for cleaning") and walk on wet floors (which, 1. is dangerous, and 2. means that I have to wash self-same floor all over again, because the ignorant morons got it dirty again.) Disrespectful, dumb jack-a-napes.

I love my country, really I do...but some of my countrymen (and women) make me ashamed to call myself American, the way they act. I've literally--and I do mean, literally, seen more intelligent animals....not being insulting, because it's absolutely true. I pin it all--okay, well maybe some, back to Ron Regan and his disbanding of the rules...no more censorship, de-regulation...without rules, there can be no civilization. Civilization depends on rules. Manners matter. Thinking (independantly) matters. Common sense matters....it's what seperates us from the animal kingdom. I mean, I don't think we should go back to Victorian extremes, but the extremes we're on right now are far, far worse. We're devolving. Belching in public, spitting in public, fart and other bodily function jokes, graphic sex and violence, violent behavior, casual swearing right left and center, women dressing like whores, men dressing like they just cleaned out the pig trough, young children dressing like twenty-year olds, people thinking it's okay to do or say whatever they want--whether it hurts someone or not, no table manners, no manners whatsoever...pigs, not humans. Humans think. Humans have manners. Manners matter.

Okay, okay, that was my soapbox piece. Next...

Did have a fun--albeit, breif--conversation with a co=worker, reminising about childhood favorite TV shows, and who we had crushes on (Bobby Sherman, Randolf Mantooth, David Cassidy, etc.)

Gosh, I do love my cats. They were sooo-- happy to see me tonight. They were running around the house, chirping and meowing at me. Trotting around, climbing in my lap and lying at my feet, licking my face and arms. I found, while unpacking yet another box of books, they're favorite toy...a crinkle ball...it's a multi-colored puff ball with bits of foil stuck in it, so that it makes a crinkly sound when it moves or is handled. I threw it across the living room carpet and started a stampede. You would not believe how happy those cats were to have their favorite toy back.

It didn't rain on the way home, so I was happy. I picked (but didn't bet on) the three winning horses in a race tonight. I'm not allowed to bet on the races while working. My bad ankle/foot gave me heck earlier tonight, but got a little better after dinner break. The asprin I took helped, I think. Saw some of the Ellen show, this afternoon...funny as usual. She is just so charming and witty. Don't often know who the heck her guests are...unless he or she is really, really famous, but that doesn't matter. Finally saw, the other day, what this Paris Hilton everyone talks about looks like---yikes! Talk about cardboard people....yow, thank goodness she doesn't live next to me, that's all I have to say. I don't know, she may be nice for all I know, but I personally think she's scary...let's put it this way, if trapped in a cell, and given a choice for a roomate between this Paris gal, and a Dalek--It'd be the Dalek hands down, baby.

2006-05-16T16:34:00.000-04:00

Well, back to work today. The drive in wasn't so bad (no rain) and I made pretty good time, even though my car didn't want to start this morning (heavy rain causes it to sputter and run down and shudder). And I didn't realize I was so low on gas, so I had to stop at exit 18 for some. But it didn't rain, so I made it to work with 5 minutes to spare (whew!). Unfortunately, it poured part of the way home and I almost drove off the Northway(Interstate 87), so I had to get off at exit 15 and take the long way home part of the way, until the rain let up enough. Maybe I should add a working set of windsheild wipers to my "wish list," ha-ha.

Getting low on food. That seems to be the pattern. I eat good for a few days, not so good the rest of the week. I save the decent meals for my days off, so I can better enjoy them. Sunday was braised steak with creamed spinach and rice pilaf. Last night was a creamy herbed chicken and broccoli with pasta. Tonight...tuna casserole, tommorrow, creamed chipped beef on toast....and that's how it goes. By the end of the week, I'm back to peanut butter and scrambled eggs and boxed macaroni and cheese. But, at least I eat decent for a few days, which is better than never at all. That goes into the "glass half-full" department.

I've been banned from watching Dr. Who at work....they don't like my taking my two 30 minute breaks back to back. Darn. (Not the word I'd really like to use here, but I'm trying to keep this blog curse-word free.) I'm curious about the new actor who plays the new doctor, this David Tennant.He seems handsome, young and personable, from the very, very little I've seen of him, that is. I rather liked Eccleston, though, as I said before, it was initally hard to wrap my mind around a punk-thug looking Dr. ...and a sexy one, also. (There's a word I seldom use, so I guess I must mean it, eh?) Not that Eccleston seems my type at all...I think. Don't know hardly a blessed thing about him, so what do I know? The new companion, Billie Piper is probably the best looking girl the series has had in some 40 years...and she seems quite talented, too. I heard she was a singer, but don't follow stuff from the 80's to today, too much. Kind of stopped listen to pop music after my early 20's. But if she sings like she acts, I'll bet she's pretty good. Anyway, I had to dip into the $10 I put aside for the New Doctor Who series when it's released over here, in order to pay for gas for work....so I guess it's going to be antoher year or more before I see all the episodes (unless I finally get a second job or better full-time job, and can afford to get cable tv at last). Ah, well. At least I got to see some Dr. Who. What is it about this show that's so special to me? It makes me feel good, both during and after I watch it. And while I'm watching it, I forget ALL my problems. I like the comedies that come across the big pond from the U.K., too. A good laugh to someone like me, is every bit as precious as gold or jewels--I mean it. Long live the BBC!

I'm super-hungry right now...all's I've had is a peanut butter and bacon sandwich all day. I hate not having enough money for food. Right now, I'm daydreaming about a nice sausage pizza from Papa's Corner Resturant (the pizza place we used to order from where I grew up) or a 1/2 kilbasi, half sliced sausage pizza locally, from Talk of the Town. Or even just a cheap Totino's frozen pizza...any pizza...Gads, I feel like I'm having pizza withdrawls...too bad they don't have pizza de-tox, ha-ha. Guess I'll have to settle for my tuna casserole. (In this case, boxed cheddar pasta with tuna, peas and onion powder thrown in.) Yuch. But at least I'm not eating peanut butter again (I really don't like peanut butter very much). Like I said, half-full glass, gotta' look on the bright side and be thankful for the little things.

ADDENDUM:

I panicked earlier, over money and bills of course. But that was just a panic attack and writing it down (now errased) helped calm me...that, and taking a nap for an hour. I feel better now. I do feel like living has become a prison without walls for me, and I'm not sure anymore if I can ever change that. I could, here, write some of the standard platitudes about taking things one day at a time and trying to find the silver lining in every cloud, but I won't. Because sometimes, in the real world, there is no silver--except the silver quarters I hoard so I can afford to do my laundry each week-- and each day harbors the stark fear of homelessness and hunger, lurking over my shoulder like a dark oily phantom. Depression can be really hard to cope with. I gave up on my public therapist...public shrinks are mostly useless...they see so many patients, they get jaded and don't really listen anymore, get impatient, or bored, stuff like that. So that's where this blog comes in. I'm told that I'm "very self-aware." So, who needs some bored public shrink?

I want so badly to go down and put flowers on my late mom's grave. Not sure I'll be able to manage it...but my sister can't remember where the grave is, so I have to go, whether I can afford it or not. I spent countless hours hiking that cemetery and studying it's history (In the late 1800's it was considered one of the most beautiful cemeteries in the world, and still is lovely..."367 acres of scenic beauty" is how it's billed today. One of the monuments was even featured in the London Art Journal...or was it Paris? In 1871, I think. And a president and a president's son are buried there, along with many other famous, infamous and unusual personages...and between the Sunday morning hikes with my dogs when I was younger, and the historical study and the picnics and fishing---and the fact that we lived nearby, I know almost literally every inch of those acres like my own self.

I'll admit, I'm almost physically/mentally worried sick about meeting expenses. I am so very much in need of fun. I haven't had any genuine fun in over a year. No joke, I'm quite serious. Last fun I had...REAL fun, was April of 2005, when my two friends and I went to Pennslyvania overnight for a huge antique carriage auction. About a month later, mom really started going downhill...and her care, combined with my education, consumed all of my time...until she passed on, that is...then I was busy with the funeral arrangements and trying to (unsuccessfully) find a way to finish college, and find a job (took over 2 months), and try and live on $750 a month with nearly $900 in monthly bills, and not lose my home (which I did), and get a working telephone, and get heat, and cope with living without hot water in the dead of winter,

and....well, it's been a wide-awake nightmare these past 6 months or so, I can tell you.

That's why shows like Doctor Who are so important to me. I guess it may sound stupid, but Doctor Who is a shining light in the dark void of my life. Really. I mean, I rarely fantasize about traveling with the Doctor or anything like that (but wouldn't that be lovely--minus the monsters, of course). It just takes me outside of myself for a while, makes me laugh or sit on the edge of my seat, stuff like that. It's a kid's show, I know, but maybe inside, I'm still just a big kid at heart...Who knows?

And that's why I freak out so easily when money's tight...or non-existant. I have no financial safety net...I have only what I have and no more. Period. It's not a pleasant feeling. And six months of constant rejection for good jobs is wearing me down and making me feel like I'm garbage...only fit for taking out other people's garbage. I'm not saying this because I'm feeling sorry for myself...I really do feel this way. I haven't felt this bad about myself in years. Two years ago, I thought--and felt, that I could take on the world...now, I have all I can do to just get through one more day. I've gotten so, I dread getting out of bed nearly every morning. I am worried that someday I will snap for real, and do away with myself, just to escape the pain and bitterness...I am just drowning tonight, aren't I?

Am I boring you or depressing you, yet, Nance old girl? Okay, let's change topic.

I made a small change to my wishlist earlier this evening...now 197 people have looked at it...in heaven's name, why? Why me? Who the heck cares what I want? I'm never getting any of it, most likely. Baffling, to say the least...I'm not sure why I even listed it publicly...didn't think much of it, at the time, figured no one would ever see it but me. I mean, I was just intoxicatingly bored, for pete's sake. I've got these little internet "wish lists" all over the place, doesn't mean a darn thing to me...just like some people play dominoes or tic-tac-toe (noughts and crosses). I "play" with lists. Like when I was little, and the Montgomery Ward toy catalog came at Christmas, and I'd go through and circle all the stuff I want...same thing, just more electronically advanced, that's all. Sheesh! I mean, I'd like these things, very much, but my life won't come to a screeching halt if I don't get anything on the lists. When I started them, my sole entertainment was the internet, books and National Public Radio...it was just a way to pass the long hours alone. 197--strange planet we live on.

Thought for the day: (In my own words)

Speaking well is an art. Listening well is a gift.

2006-05-15T21:27:00.000-04:00

Taking a break from writing (yuppie couple is about to get into a good row, and I need to chill for a bit and start fresh, if that makes any sense.) Also, I've got a very tiny bit of writer's block at the moment, so I thought switching gears and writing something in my blog my help clear some cobwebs from my thoughts...unfortunately,

I can't think of anything to write. But, I did find one of my very old journals (under a bunch of old photos in my family's old Erie cnal/stagecoach trunk, so I'll throw some of my old words onto these new pages and see what happens...)

"November morning, 1979." (I had just turned 19 when written.)

"It is a foggy, misty and rainy morning. The world is enveloped in greyness and shadows. The woods seem motionless and silent, as if the solemnity of the occaision has acted as a shroud against all sound and movement. The mist drips crystaline beads down the long slender needles of White pines as I walk up the "pineneedle road."* The barely perceptable dripping of dewy mist is the only sound...it is every sound, it is everything."

*(A dirt tractor road through an old planted grove of Eastern White Pine, paved with metal shavings from the old Burden steel mill across the river, and covered with red/brown pine needles all the time.)

Anyway, that's that. A time when I had time to enjoy my time, ha-ha.

You know what? Some 195 people (I am, of course, assuming they are indeed people) have viewed my wishlist...again I scratch my head in bewilderment and say, why? There's got to be millions of people out there with more interesting wishes than I have. Hmmm. Wonder how many have visited my 43 things site, now? Not that it matters. Just means I'm not alone in my boredom, maybe? Who knows?

Well, Tuesday's another day. (Brillant statement, that.) Think I'll make something strange to take for lunch, just for the heck of it, like a peanut butter and bacon sandwich. Something different.

Thought for the day:

As they say, "tommorw will be different--not better, just different."

2006-05-15T15:42:00.000-04:00

ng I don't blame anyone for not reading my blog...gosh, my life is terribly uninteresting...kind of like this play I've been commissioned to write for a student.

It's drama...and I hate writing drama. My drama is soooo...incredibly.... boring. And dull. And tedious. And did I mention, boring? My student only gave me the outline that she wanted a young professional couple living in the city. That's it. That's all I had to work with. So...It's about this twenty-something professional couple, snobby yuppies, and how one act of thoughtlessness on the wife's part, unwittingly undoes the grand plans the husband has. Ten minute plays are hard, but a ten-minute that the playwrite (me) is just not into writing...yuch. I prefer making a stab at comedy or action or mystery...because I mostly write plays for my own pleasure, so I usually just write what I enjoy the most...or whatever grabs me at the time.This is worse than being in school. At least there I was allowed to choose my genre. Here...well, haven't done much drama writing, actually, even in short story form. It's much easier for me to get into a humourous character's, or hero/villan-type character's or historical character's head then a real person's...guess I should have paid more attention in psychology class, ha-ha.

This 'yuppie" story is one of three I have to write before mid-June. It's almost done. I think maybe the next one I do, I'll get down and dig a little deeper, maybe use some of the bad stuff that I've gone through in the last couple of years....dunno'. Would anyone even want to read/view something like that?
The last one will be fun--I hope, anyway. I've been commissioned for 2 dramas and a mystery/suspense story, so I'm saving the "easy" one for last, because I'll probably be under the gun by then.

For me, dialog is simple--easy-peasy...it's the plot that I struggle with, and getting into the character's head's deep enough to pull the audience in...tough, that. Being alone so much, I listen to people's conversations all the time...not nosy, really, it's just that I hear a lot of funny, sad, crazy, stupid stuff pop out of people's months...and a lot of boring stuff too, you have to store the good stuff away in your head, and discard the rest. I try to visualize a character in my head, before I ever write one line of dialog...but once I start the dialog rolling, I tend to let the character(s) lead the way as to where the story goes. When I really get into a play, my characters almost take over the whole thing, and I just either go with the flow, or roll with the punches. Which is why I struggle with plot and depth of character. I get so caught up in the conversation(s), that I sometimes overlook the whole picture, which I good playwrite should never do. But then, I'm not a good playwrite. I'm just a person who likes to write plays (usually).

I'm praying (literally) that it won't rain tommorrow. That's because my windshield wipers are dead. I have to go to the food pantry sometime this week..this week, my rent's due along with my car insurance...nothing left for food, not one red cent. It's going to be a challenge just coming up with gas/cat food money. I don't qualify for food stamps. It's depressing. I work hard all day and can only buy less than a week's worth of food each payday. I try to figure out how I'm going to survive...not sure I really want to, anymore. The cats are a help, and my few friends...they're the only one's that care about me. Sis never calls...says she loves me, but I don't know...she's always pissed off at anything I say...no matter what...we can't talk politics, or work, or about anything but the weather and gardening, and our childhood. That's it. Those are the only safe topics I can talk to my one remaining close relation about. I wish I didn't work 30 plus miles away, or that we had public transit. Don't know how I'm going to pay the rent and buy gas for the car, too. Life was so rosy just a short while ago...I had traveled to foreign places, graduated with honors from 2 year college, was one year shy of graduating from my 4 year college...had a big company interested in using me as an intern summer of 06--through my college, of course. The job would have paid, if I made the grade, upwards of $50,000 a year plus, eventually. Now I clean toilets for less than $15,000 a year. I feel like such an incredible loser. I try not to, I really do, but I feel like I'm being buried alive by poverty and debt and there's no way out. Honestly, I'm glad I don't like guns, because some days, I could literally just shoot myself. It would be incredibly easy. I've never used illegal drugs, and neither have I ever got into drinking alcohol. But, for the first time in my life, I honestly understand why so many people do...and that bothers me to no end.

So, I just try to take one day at a time. For me, Sunday is a blessing--and not because of church. (No offence, God.--and I do actually like church, only I'm a bit shy and uncomfotable around strangers in chruch, for some unknown reason.) Sunday, there's no bills, no phone calls to make, no shut-off notices, no rent due, no job, no appointments...just rest and quiet and maybe some catching up with mundane household stuff. Mondays...dread time. Mondays I figure out where I stand, financially, and pray that I'll have enough to get through antother day/week/month. I make important (also usually dreaded) phonecalls or go to apointments or fill out forms--or often, all of the former. Unless I have bad/weird dreams, sleep too, is a blessing. The one time I can escape from my worries/stress. Little kindnesses are nice, they make me feel like I'm still a human being, in at least someone's eyes. The poorer you get, and the more alone you are, the smaller you become as a human being...you just melt away gradually in the world's eyes, like the wicked witch in The Wizard of Oz. At least that's how it feels.

But for tonight, I'll make myself a nice chicken and pasta dinner, afterwards tune in to some jazz from Boston Pete.com, make myself some chocolate coffee and write the rest of the blasted play. Afterall, if they can bring Dr. Who back after a 16 year absence, if monarch butterfly's can fly from here in the Adirondacks down to Mexico, if George Bush can get re-elected, I can certainly write 5 pages of dialog before 11 PM....I hope.

Nancy's thought for the day:

Find the balance in your life. Take a moment each day for some quiet time--look for at least one little good thing each day.

2006-05-14T17:42:00.000-04:00

Well, I guess things aren't all bad. I found another cheap steak at the grocery store today ($1.79). I have to braise it and season it well, to make it actually edible, but...hey, it's better than a cold bowl of cereal or a peanut butter sandwich. Got my laundry done, too. The flat is cold--landlord's aren't big on forking over the heat, but I can stand it. According to my little copper buffalo thermometer, it's around 60 in here, so it's not freezing. I'm happy about the steak, but I'm really wishing it was a nice, hot, bubbling, cheesy pizza...gosh, I miss pizza. I'm a pizza-head. Love pizza so much, that I still remember the phone number of the pizza place my mom used to order from when I was a teenager. I've had pizza from West Yellowstone Montana (worst I've ever had) to Iceland. Love my pizza!

Besides adding to my blog, and making dinner, I'm spending the rest of my night working on my writing project, fooling around with a new "things I want.com" list (dude ranch decor), and editing my "43 things" list (http://www.43things.com/person/justnancy). Pretty boring stuff, but at least the roof isn't leaking and I have something for dinner and the phone bill and car is paid for, for another month.

Addendum:

The never take a nap after you eat a big meal department: Wow! Did I have the mother of all weird dreams. I haven’t been remembering my dreams lately--too exhausted and in too much pain, I guess. Anyway, this one was lengthy and strange.

Okay. It was a series of different dreams all strung together (I think).

The scene is a spring-like forest woodland--complete with castle. First, enter in a medieval Robin Hood type---add a old wizard and a girlfriend that looked sort of like Princess Leia. Okay. “Robin Hood” comes home from the (Crusades? Fuzzy about that detail) The wizard is standing over a dog-size snail--which he’s trying to grow even bigger--when it emits a gurgling noise and dies. The wizard gives Robin Hood-type a pair of twisted wood walking sticks--carved with little boobies (I swear, I’m not making any of this up) where the eyes of the wood would have been. Princess Leia-type is not thrilled. She goes off in a huff--which isn’t good, because Robin-Hood type is about to get married to her, before she leaves, she says the cane is going to get him into trouble. He next pops up at some kind of weird sporting event (can’t remember) He’s leaning on a rustic wood fence, standing next to a giant dirty pig in pants and a floppy hat (honest, I swear), when the pig notices the walking stick. He starts squealing. The Robin Hood is accosted by an authority figure--I can’t remember what/who--with a huge rule book. It/he? leafs through the pages, and finds a passage that says that walking canes with boobs carved on them are not illegal, unless they have 3 feet at the bottom. Robin Hood puffs himself up, and tells them the cane has no feet at all. Then he looks down at the cane and it does indeed seem to have sprung up three feet.

Okay, then the dream took a totally different direction. It was Christmas time, and my late mother had just died (In reality, she died just before Thanksgiving). We were burying her, but she was actually there, sitting beside me in the pew--and in the coffin at the same time. It was the Presbyterian Church in Watervilet--but it wasn’t, really. The Christmas tree was undecorated, and turned over on it’s side. I could actually “smell” the pine sap in my dream. We all sang (the church was filled with total strangers) “Come to the Church in the Wildwood,” because my mother request that---she didn’t even know the song, as far as I know. My dad was still alive--even though in reality he’d died over a year earlier than my mom in real life. After service I went “home”---a little yellow house I’d never seen or been to before---walking down a strange snowy street. It seems that the house was a temporary one, that I had another somewhere, but was staying in this one because….(don’t recall that detail). I had little money. I was worried about not being able to buy the family presents and what I was going to eat (I know where that little detail came from). I was praying that I would win some big prize I’d bought a ticket for…then the dream changed again.

I was strolling by a pond. There were fish and frogs and ducks, flowers and reeds and tall green grass. I was admiring it all and blissfully happy. A black and white cat that was mine (J.R, one of my 16/17 year olds, or another from the past?) suddenly leaped out of the grass, and was trying to catch a frog, and I was trying to stop her. Next…

I was strolling down a highway. There was this long, long chainlink fence. On the opposite side of the fence, there was this long rolling field of brown grass--almost like an airport runway extension, without the tarmac. All of the sudden, a bunch of grey penguin-like birds started running past the fence, and then a load of people (total strangers) started chasing them. I was distressed to see the birds being harassed, so I leaped over the fence (yeah, like I could actually do that in real life) and tried to stop them…next,

I was on an alien planet. The “penguins” became people…a strange nomadic people, dressed in skins. They were in the “runway grass,” herding (I think) some strange kind of sheep, but the chainlink fence had become a long hallway. While observing the “nomads” through open doors in the hall, I spied one, a man/shepherd, leaning through an open window. I smiled at him and walked up to him. I pointed at myself and said my name. He pointed at himself and said his name (can’t remember). I said “hello.” Next thing I know, that guys trying to grab me, and claim me for his wife…then…

We’re back at the castle. The tribe of nomads are aliens trying to kill people or capture them. I’m running through the castle trying to escape, but suddenly, out of the blue, there’s all these armed guards dressed like blue (not red) beefeaters surrounding me at every turn. I leap up a set of stairs, and someone pulls me into a hidden alcove it was none other than…(honest,this was in my dream) Doctor Who! Can’t remember which Doctor, but he was going to help me escape. He was whispering in my ear (can’t remember what) Then, the cat (a real one) started pawing at my blankets and I woke up. So take it from me, not matter how tempting it is, never take a nap after eating a satisfying large meal...or you too, could have a bunch of really strange dreams..unless you like that sort of thing.

MORE.... After I finished writing the above, I turned off the computer...and remembered the rest of the dream. So I wrote it down on paper, and here it is...Not sure, but I think this happened somewhere between the pond and me being chased through the castle:

It again involves Doctor Who, breifly. I was at college in the classroom, and we were instructed by our professor to go out on a field trip. We had to go down to the Hudson River and collect specimins of bugs (I think). Weird thing was, it was an English composition type class. O.K., Well, then I was in a resort/campground, being outfitted for my trip when up springs The Doctor (again, don't recall which one) and some other guy, who was some kind of professor. They tell me to go with Sarah Jane (one of the 4th doctor's companions). Okay, so we get on this raft thing and float/hover over the dirt trail, down into a jungle (definately not the Hudson River.) It gets hazy here, but there was a big party going on in some town in the middle of the jungle. Then everyone disapears abruptly. Sarah Jane investigates, and I stay behind. Sarah Jane gets killed by a giant insect/spider thingy. I run for my life back to the campground, and try to tell the Doctor and this professor guy what happened, they just laugh. I'm perplexed, until they try to capture me...they've been taken over by the monster. So, it gets weirder. I'm running away from the two guys and the background becomes the street I grew up on. I'm running up the steep grassy slope that leads up to the four lane highway, the typical dream sequence where you're running and not going anywhere, I'm slipping on the grass...and then I'm back in the campground. Everything's okay. How it got to be okay, I don't have a clue. But the Doctor's there saying not to worry, and I'm stammering how Sarah Jane is dead, when SJ shows up and everything's okay. The monster/spider thingy, it turned out was having babies and just trying to protect them, and didn't mean to hurt anyone, so everyone was okay...and...that is all I wrote down. Weird, huh? I shouldn't read a Doctor Who novel before I go to bed. Weird, weird.

It's insane!

2006-05-14T17:09:00.000-04:00

People don’t get it. They won’t give us affordable housing, cheap medical care, they won’t raise the “living wage” (now there’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one), and they keep raising the interest rates and taxes and gas and…etc. Yet we have to work hard (often painful dirty tasks) and still can’t get enough food to get us through the week. Pretty soon, they’ll (US Govt.) be shoving us into concentration camps..or people will get really T.O.’d and we’ll have another Civil War on our hands. The American middle class is simply gone. Now, we have two classes: well-off or just barely surviving. Oh yeah, and if the working poor complain, they’re told to either get another job or go on welfare—and “another job” is usually just as bad/worse as the first, and nobody (well-off)wants people to be on welfare and most poor people don’t actually want to be on welfare. Like I said, concentration camp attitudes.

See more progress on: Get the govenment to raise minimum wage

2006-05-14T01:56:00.000-04:00

Another week come and gone, another day of rain coming, another day off, another day of mixed worries, fears and blind hope. All in all, Saturday was pretty uneventful...except for the fact that the windsheild wipers on my car are now broken...and there's NO money to fix them with....other than that, I'm fine. Juuusst peachy, thanks.

Oh, and my 16 year old--going on 17--cat just rubbed his face against my most sentimentally prized possession and messed it up for good. I have a large oil on board painting that my crazy Aunt Mary gave me for a 7th birthday present. It's by a self-taught African-American artist, George Hoose, who used to live next to the dump around Dalton, Mass. (Berkshires). He was her friend and teacher, and he eventually went blind. Hoose is most noted for painting an Indian head on a huge rock in a place in the Berkshire mountains called "Wizard's Glen."...I think. Anyway, it's called "Colorado Roundup"--even though it shows a famous peak of the Berkshires in the background. It's a 1930's looking cowboy in wooly chaps, quirting (whiping) a paint horse (brown and white) from a hill, down a mountainside (chasing steers) in the foreground. The middle ground is a valley with a herd of cattle and a couple of cowboys, the background is towering peaks and sky. Not that well executed, but I am very, very fond of it. When I was little, I used to play with my little toy cowboys, and put them into the painting (as backdrop.) It has been a fixture in my bedroom since 1967, and I love it (it's in my office, now). But now the upper right hand corner is completely gone and the board is separating there. :( The frame gave out ages ago, and so the painting is setting on the floor, blocking a really ugly power outlet. It's too big to prop up on the shelving, and no way can I get a new frame. Darn it, I'm sorry to see this happen, but I guess there's not much I can do about it. I could put it in storage, but since the painting's not worth anything monitarily (not that I'd ever part with it), why bother? Why not just enjoy it, despite the damage? That is what many painting's purpose is, enjoyment, I think...although a lot of people nowadays try to put messages in everything. (Sigh.)

Think I'll spend Sunday relaxing, catching up on housework and my writing projects and resting my foot (and just plain resting.) Hopefully Flame won't wake me up again. She woke my up by licking me all over my face--and man, does she ever have bad breath! By the time I got her to stop, the alarm went off--figures! Cat slobber and a jangling alarm bell---what a way to wake up.

Thought for today:

When I want a message, I'll Western Union God and leave the rest to fate.

2006-05-13T11:15:00.000-04:00

Addendum: Still raining, which maybe is a good thing. That's because it'll keep the tourist population down, in town. They've closed the on-ramp to the interstate, you see. Now to get anywhere (south), I have to drive right through town. But no one--except me, perhaps--likes to stroll along the lake or window shop in the rain. So, maybe I won't have to contend with all those tourists from New Jersey, Mass, Conneticuit or Quebec today, and will be able to get through town in a decent amount of time (one lives with the hope).

Made myself a quick lunch of frozen Chinese food, now I'll have to leave early if I want to get my laundry done and pay a bill, before I trudge the 30 some-odd miles to work. I hate Saturdays. I'm very depressed. Tommorrow is Mother's Day and I don't have the cash to go down to Albany to visit my mom' s grave, or to put flowers on it. Life stinks. It genuinely hurts to think of that cold mound of earth harboring my mom's soul--unmarked and untended--it really, really hurts, you know that?

There was a woman at work who was so very unkind to me, last night. I used to think I'd become immune to meaness. I guess not. Maybe, because of my situation, it's only little kindnesses that keep me going. Meaness makes me feel so bad inside--like what did I do wrong, to make people want to be mean to me? I've so little hope and joy in my life, that little things--like my friend giving me a used tv/vcr--and a carrot cake--, and someone thanking me for doing my job, and someone giving me their place in line in the grocery store...or just someone actually talking/listening to me, it means so very much...it's what keeps me from sinking into a yawning abyss of dispair.

I am physically tired, have been for days...it's a combination of pain and emotional stress maybe, or maybe I'm sick and don't realize it, beats me. I miss so much. I miss walking in the woods, going to garage sales & auctions, laughing at a movie with someone, being able to go into a store and just buy whatever I want/need (jeans, food, underwear, shampoo, a paperback book, etc.) I miss cooking for someone, going for a drive in the country, sitting in the classroom learning stuff, cable TV, going on trips and seeing new sights, hanging out outside somewhere really quiet and just chillin', all kinds of things I can' t do anymore...things that I often took for granted. (Big sigh.)

My sole amusements these days are making stupid useless lists on the internet, reading books I've already read--usually more than once, watching the one TV station about 30 minutes a day, writing in this blog, writing other stuff, playing with/petting the cats....that's pretty much it. My life is a prison without bars. The walls are poverty and a dead-end job. I've been trying for 6 months to find a way out, but it's starting to feel abslolutely futile. I'm not sure I'm ever going to have a decent life again. I'm not even sure I'm going to make it through another year. I'm not sure of anything, anymore.

In my country, without good credit and/or years of work experience, and/or a really good internship, and/or knowing someone on the inside, and/or having perfect or near-perfect life, and/or a movie star bod, you can pretty much kiss off getting a decent job. If you're fat, ugly, poor and haven't got a B.A. degree, and don't know anyone on the inside to sponsor you---forget it, kiss your future goodbye. I just wish I had something to hold on to, some intrinsic hope that things really will get better...but I can't imagine what that would be. I've learned that the only things in this life that are certain are death and taxes.

2006-05-13T01:37:00.000-04:00

Pouring rain outside tonight--or I guess I should say morning, by now. I feel like singing (if I could carry a tune, that is) "Stormy Weather," with the steady pounding on the metal roof over my head as a drum solo thrown in, ha-ha. I know there's folks a whole lot worse off than me, out there. I'm not obtuse or oblivious. (Well, at least when it comes to poverty, suffering and sorrow.) It's just the isolation that's getting to me, maybe. At least I've had my moments in the spotlight and sunshine--and they were rather good one's for all that, however brief they may have been. I guess that's more than a lot of people can say.

It's just hard, when you've lost nearly everything dear to you, and you can't live in the way you've been accustomed to for many years past, and you can't go out and have fun--ever, or buy a book or rent a movie...and you never see your friends or the few relatives you have left...it's bad, sometimes, even for me, a life-long self-perscribed loner. Almost didn't get to see Part II of New Doctor Who tonight, and was very upset. They all thought I was off my rocker. I tried to explain that this one TV show, was literally all I had to look forward to this week. I have no "fun." I don't hang out with anyone but my cats, and can't even buy a new book to read or rent a movie...but they just didn't get it. No one understoond, and I don't think anyone can. I'm alone even in my feelings of aloneness...if that makes any sense at all. It's not that I'm fanatical about the show--at least, not compared to a lot of my fellow fans in the old local fan club I was a member/officer in. It's because the show just...well, it just makes me feel very good watching it. It's genuinely fun for me to watch it (or read one of the books.) It makes me smile and forget about all the bad stuff for bit...and that's wonderful. Let me put it this way, the only other time in my week that I can escape my "prison" (what I call my impoverished/ioslated state) is when I'm sleeping (and, not having bad dreams). Sometimes I feel that way watching the Ellen show, because she's so silly, she makes me giggle and I remember that's how I used to be, once. She makes me want to act happily silly again, so does the Doctor, sometimes (if the writing/acting's good)...(Happily/silly?? Uh, did that make sense? I don't know, I'm tired.)

Am I a DW fanatic? Dunno', maybe. I do have a old Tom Baker (Doctor #4) poster hanging on the back of the door to my "office." For someone that hardly ever watches TV, and hates fanaticism in any form, I sometimes find my feelings about the show a tad ironic. I rather like this Christopher Eccleston, shame he left the show. Very multi-facited actor. My only view of him was as the bad guy in Gone in 60 Seconds, so It was hard for me to adjust to having a actor I associated with being a punk thug as the good guy Doctor, but by gosh, Eccleston made it work. Too bad he couldn't tough it out for more than a season. But I guess he had a good reason, none of my business, anyway. Maybe he's a restless spirit, or the BBC was giving him nonsense, or maybe he's manic=depressive. It's not important, really, it's his business, and I wish him well, he did a good job. Hear nice things about the new fellow, David Tennant. Seen him in one brief fuzzy online clip with Liz (Sarah Jane) Sladen...he seems a bit young, but enthusicastic...at least all of the 30 seconds I saw of him.

My foot was better tonight. I stayed up last night and elevated/iced it, and taped it today real tight and it was tolerable for a change. I think I may have done something to it when I fell on it again the other night when the vaccum shocked me. On the way home, I connected with the radio station in Vermot I used to listen to when I was commuting to school there. It's a genuine Vermont style station...lots of good oldies from the 60's & 70's, with some country and new stuff thrown in...few commercials and nothing obnoxious or loud....and lots of morning talk that's really boring, but also sometimes facinating. They read the "senior meal site menus and school lunch menus on both sides of the border (NY/VT border), which is pretty boring, but then they might have an archaeological diver on, or someone who raises goats and makes goat cheese, or a rodeo cowboy, or a museum curator, or a policeman....someone usually interesting...and sometimes just someone talking about a local event or how to grow roses in the northern climate..or--egad!-- a local politician. One time they (the DJ"s) even went on for over 20 minutes one winter morning, about the huge pot holes in the station's parking lot, in vivid detail. But that's what makes genuine Vermont rural radio so unique. Anyway, I was glad to hear it again. (WNYV, 94.1 fm).

Thought for the day: Petting a cat may lower your blood pressure, but the love returned definately uplifts the heart.

2006-05-12T10:13:00.000-04:00

Well, did my calucating as to spending money (food/gas/misc.) for the week: about $40 once again. For the record, gas to go to work for the week currently runs around $50 (big sigh).

Yesterday at work, some co-workers were speaking about someone they mutually knew who had committed suicide. The one girl said she didn't "understand how anyone could do that to themselves." I didn't say a word. I understand. Only too well. Sometimes, the internal pain and stress and feelings of total worthlessness and futility can weigh a human being down like a giantic boulder, bogging down the heart and spirit and soul in a quagmire of emptiness, until a person just wants OUT. When these feelings are inside you, you can be surrounded by people who maybe care about you or even love you, and still feel totally alone--and if you really are already alone (or virtually so), it's even worse. And unless you've been there yourself, there's just no way you are going to get it. Depression is a medical problem, just like any other diease..except depression is virtually invisible. It's a wound that doesn't usually show, and all too frequently doesn't always heal--if that makes any sense, I don't know...

I don't know how I'm going to survive with this job. It literally makes me ill just worrying about it. Last night, I had to work unauthorized overtime last night because my foot was so bad. Today I can barely walk on it. I'm scared. Without a job, I'm literally homeless. I don't know how the heck I'm going to pay all my bills, as it is now. I have around $550 in the bank. Sounds like a lot. Yeah. Out of that $550, I need $450 towards rent and $50 plus towards my phone bill. Next week, the car insurance is due ($45) and God only knows about the electric bill, as I haven't even gotten that yet and have no idea how much it is or when it's even due. The 20th, I have to come up with $200 more to make the rest of my $650 month rent. My average salary per week: around $270 after taxes and benefits, etc. It gets worse: my student loans are due in June, over $300 a month in loan payments...none of which I can pay. Even if I can get a deferrment, It'll only be for a few months, then I'm screwed royally...and worse, my disability check stops in the fall, and I lose $659 out of my income per month. I'm already a virtally invisible American due to my poverty. (They call us the "working poor," by the way.) But to be homeless is literally my worst nightmare. To be a homeless American, is to pretty much cease to be a human being in my governments eyes (they refuse to count the homeless in census, and worse). When I say here, that I'd rather be dead than homeless--I'm not joking. I mean it.

And things aren't going well besides. My car is burning oil and an interior light refuses to turn off, It also needs an oil change and I have no cash to get one, no clue how I'm going to pay the electric bill, my computer's acting all wonky (they're having a huge going out of business sale at the Saratoga County fairgrounds today--new computers for only $100--but they might as well be $10,000 for all the money I have), I'm down to just 2 pairs of decent jeans and still have no hair dryer...need a haircut, can't get one, need to do some serious laundry and no cash for the laundromat, running out of deodorant and dish soap-- can't get more till next week, no idea where the money's coming from to feed the cats this week--or me for the rest of the week (really huge sigh). Oh, and got turned away from yet another potential part-time job (not enough experience.) I cant' even get a second job cleaning rooms at the local hotels! Life really stinks.

It hurts so bad inside, that I can't get a job that pays decent that I'm really, really good at, and like. Five years of college. Five years of trying to care for my parents, and get well myself, and learn and grow so I can have a decent future. Five years of 14 hour days, 7 day weeks. Five years of commuting odd hours five to seven days a week, Five years of sleepless nights trying to get all my homework done. Five years, pretty much flushed down the ol' loo.

I just want a decent job. I'm not being egotistical when I say that I'm fantastic on phones--I really mean it. But NO ONE will give me a chance to prove it. NO ONE, NO ONE, NO ONE. I can file virtually in my sleep, do research, fax and copy, I love helping people and have very professional manners, I can do presentations to large or small audiences, write professionally, type, do light data entry...as long as it has nothing much to do with numbers (I have both dyscaluculia and numerophobia) I can do anything in an office. Six lousy months I've been out there trying and trying and trying, and...nothing, nothing, nothing. I went to college to get out of the low-wage/hard labor trap, but I'm worse off than ever. And every day I wonder how I'm going to get through another week. It makes me sad and angry and fustrated...but mostly sad. No one believes in me, so why should I care about myself? I don't know. I just don't know anything, anymore. My self-confidance, which was pretty good 6 months ago, is almost eroded away to nothing, now. All I know is that I work as hard as possible, for a low wage. I try to give 110% and get nothing for it...seldom even a 'thank-you.' My boss couldn't give a damn about me, my employer doesn't give a damn about me, potential employers don't give a damn about me..why should I? Well, Flamey cares.

That's my dark red, partly blind cat. She's been laying on my lap, asleep. She has beautiful eyes...deep brown, almost, and cross-eyed when she looks at you. She's looking at me now. Sat up, put her paw out and touched my cheek and stared into my eyes. She has a look that can almost see into one's soul. She's licked the tears from my cheeks countless times, my Flame has. She's licking my arm, now and pawing at my pyjamas. Strange, she always knows when I'm unhappy. Pets are wonderful.

I've had some things to be grateful for: a new aquaintance, a couple of e-pals that try to cheer me up, a donated TV/VCR--with a great antenna, I found a cheap steak at the grocery earlier this week, Bush's low approval rating, I get to see the new Dr. Who at work every Friday, my cats--and the fact that the landlord hasn't found out yet that I still have all 7 (I'm only supposed to have 2), my car's still running (knock wood), and I have a frozen pizza in the fridge for lunch, I have the internet, and my electricity is still on, and I picked the winner of this year's Kentucky Derby. So, I guess things could be worse.

Thought for the day:

Six feet of earth makes us all the same size--unless you're buried in Forest Lawn, that is.

2006-05-11T11:21:00.000-04:00

Well, just spent 45 mintues typing today's entry--only to have it utterly vanish somewhere into cyberspace...my internet connection died, and somewhere between getting re-connected and entering my blog, my blog vanished.

I am so sick of this! Ugh! I need a new computer...they're having a sale for $100 (new computers) at the Saratoga fairgrounds Friday night, and I can't do anything about it, because, even if I wasn't totally out of cash, I have to work. UGH-UGH-UGH~ !!! I hate my life!~

2006-05-11T10:20:00.000-04:00

2006-05-10T12:38:00.000-04:00

Well I was in a mood last night, wasn't I? Pain tends to make this old gal rather cranky, sometimes, especially after a long, tiring night at work. But, at least I got things off my mind and onto paper--didn't just hold it all in. Still, life can really, truly be fustrating sometimes, can't it? And if I hold back too much, I'm liable to take it out on someone or, nearly as bad--take it out on myself (ie. do something destructive--like spend too much on something I don't need, eat something not good for me, bang my head against the bedpost, things like that.)

We had a debate at work last night, some of my co-workers and I, I mean. We talked about health care--how expensive it is, or, some some employee's cases, the total lack of. We talked about national health care. One employee (a retiree who has loads of savings and only works out of sheer boredom) said, "I'm not shelling out more taxes for health care!" Another said, "I can't afford to take my daughter to the doctors and go for myself too, so she goes but I don't." Another said: "my fiancee has no insurance, and he has a bad back and can't do anything for it." I said, "Why can we afford billions to rebuild a foreign country that most of us will never see, and most never even heard of before the 1990's, and we can't take care of our own people when they're suffering?" A lot of "Yeah's" and "right's," and a few "but we have to defend our freedom' broken record types. For the record, the "Yeah's" outweighed the Republican propaganda parrots by around a 3 to 1 margain. The rich retiree pointed out that national health care was poor in other countries. I pointed out the recent scientific study that says that the English--who have national health---are healthier than we are by a wide margain. He countered that he was "talking about Canada." "I used to live in Canada," another employee said, "I had great health care, and I didn't have to pay for it." Another employee said, "my aunt lost her house of 25 years, only because her insurance wouldn't cover all her medical bills when she had cancer--and they garnished her wages, too." "But she doesn't have to pay high taxes," rich guy grumbled. Incidentlly, I'm not making any of this up, but I have to paraphrase some stuff, 'cause I wasn't exactly writing all this down, verbatum. The conversations were sometimes a little lengthier, but this is pretty accurate.

Then the debate moved on to yet another popular issue: the high cost of gas. Again, rich guy started talking about hybrids. Another retiree--one not so well off, said "I can afford no hybrid car." I mentioned that I couldn't go to work last Saturday, because I didn't have enough money for gas (it was 3.17 a gallon in my town, and I live over 30 miles from work and drive a large car (only because my late mother couldn't pysically get into a small car at the time I bought this one.) Someone else said they couldn't go to a wedding of a friend because they couldn't afford it (the gas). Another said she and her husband weren't going to the ocean this year, but probably staying home. Someone else said that she missed living in the city because they had public transportation. I mentioned the fantastic public transportation system they had in the Netherlands. Rich guy says, "Yeah, but this country is too big for that to be practical." I said, "we can send space shuttles to a space station, explore Mars and build nuclear weapons and smart bombs, but we can't have good public transportation?" Another worker piped up, "We need good rural public transit in this country." A lot of "yeahs" on that one--including me. "But busses pollute, and trains are expensive, too, you know." Piped up someone. But, someone else chimed in and said, "yeah, but more busses mean a lot less cars, and if more people use the trains, they probably would lower fares a little--and I could afford to actually buy groceries." There were a few cheers on that statement, by the way. Of course, GB and the rest of Washington are totally stupid and selfish sub-humans who wouldn't dream of doing something like this, that was actually logical and helpful, so I guess this type of debate is wasted on Washington types. But it was a good one. By the way, the poor workers, like myself: We outright laughed about Washington's $100 rebate...what a joke! It's like holding out a meatless bone to a starving dog--it may ease the person's conscience, but it doesn't really help the starving dog fill it's belly.

Then, just before everyone left to go back to work--or outside to smoke--someone mentioned the war. Uh, oh. You shoud'a seen the division then. Now me, I was never for the war--not even the Gulf War, back in 90/91. So you know where I stand...and, contrary to what some people seem to believe, I don't ever gloat that I was right about this war all along--too many lives have be taken and maimed and destroyed. Mr. conservative parrot piped up, "we have to defend the homeland." Someone shocked him by saying, "That's what one of my relatives says about the Nazi's. My grandfather was a German soldier. He was conscripted. But he says he "had to defend his homeland." I said, "Well, homeland was the Nazi term for Germany, back then." Mr. right-wing parrot said, "how would you know?" I said, that's what my aunt said about her brother, who was on a U-Boat...almost her exact same words--he was defending the homeland." I added that it was a documented fact that George Bush's family did business with the Nazi's. "Bah!" Said Mr. Right=wing fanatic, "whaddy'a you know!" Good comeback, don't you think? Very intelligent. Right-winger's hate being questioned, almost as much as they hate thinking...but that's just my personal opinion, and I guess I can be a bit biased on such matters. I enjoy lively debate, and it's always nice to hear diverse opinions--even those you don't agree with...except sometimes there's hurt feelings, so one hasn't to be rather careful at work, doesn't one?

Well, I've had my lunch (leftover pot roast) and the cats are done playing and settling down for their afternoon naps. I'm off to do some housework and get ready to leave (usually work second shift--3 to 11:30, and with my interstate exit closed off, I have to leave at 2, instead of 2:15.) Boots (Large red tiger with white face and white boots on his feet) is nuzzling my hair and kneeding my shoulders and purring into my ear...hate to remove him, he's so cute and sweet and cuddly. My foot hurts, as usual, but the swelling is down a bit today. Maybe today will be better. I can't wait for Friday at work. They're showing part two of Unearthly Child Dr. Who episode on Sci=Fi. Well, it's something to look forward too, anyway, isn't it?

Thought for the day:

Take each day in stride, after all, we're only leaves, floating on the stream of time.

2006-05-09T22:48:00.000-04:00

Another long day nears its end, and the balmy Spring night falls soft upon the Adirondack Mountains. English Brook mutters beneath my window. A hearty dinner consisting of my late mom's favorite pot roast recipie awaits me in the slow cooker. It wafts the odor of cloves and bay leaf through the flat, welcoming me home. Okay, I just felt like waxing poetic. I'm done now. Another amazing day of cleaning bathrooms and taking out trash...gosh, my life is just so terribly thrilling, isn't it? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that at least I have a job...but, it's so very fustrating and totally depressing that I can't get a job doing something that I am both good at, and kind of enjoy.

No one will hire me. I'm so utterly depressed and hopeless feeling lately. They (prospective employers) make people like me (disabled/poor) feel like such losers. I am fantastic on phones--everyone loves my "professional" voice (which is totally different from my private speaking voice that I use with aquaintances). Can I get a job as a receptionist, switchboard operator, desk clerk, telemarketer or customer svce. rep? NO. I've got top notch manners (thanks to my mom and her friends) and love assisting people. Can I get hired for that? NO. All these idiots see is that I haven't worked in a while, or that my credit sucks. I haven't worked because I was, at various times, disabled/taking care of sick parents/going back to college full-time. My credit sucks because I'm poor. DUH. If I'm working alone every night, totally unsupervised and do all that's required of me (and sometimes more)--and work on a sprained ankle/fractured foot for 8 1/2 hours at that---then obviously I'm capable of working. DUH. Today's employers are both paranoid and unrealistic. They want perfect employees---hello! Only God is perfect. Heck, that must be my problem--I'm merely human.

As for being dishonest at work, yeah, right. Tonight--as an example--I saw in the trash, a slip of paper with a bank name, account number and name of the person it belonged to===didn't hesitate, I tore it up immeadiately. Would a dishonest person do that? I saw a sheaf of papers in another trash basket that contained employee names and their social security numbers. I ignored it. I see stuff all the time lying around on people's desks...I may see it, but I ignore it. It's not my business. I clean the office, that's my business. But does this matter to prospective employers. Nah. They want perfection, they want instant employees, they want someone they don't have to train because they're...lazy and cheap? Paranoid? I don't know...

I just know that after 6 months of looking, I'm just so darned sad. I feel like that 5 years I spent in college trying to get a future was totally wasted, because some executive somewhere has institued Nazi-like hiring practices. I'm telling you, sometimes I ask myself, "why don't they (rich conservatives) just take us poor people and stick stars on our chests and put us in concentrations camps? (Not to demean the Holocoust, honest, it just sometimes the poor in America really do feel oppressed...it's not just me, millions and millions of us feel that way.) To be poor in post 9/11 America, is to be virtually invisible. To be homeless...you cease to exist as a human being.

I'm telling you, post 9/11 America totally sucks. Bunch of nasty, mean=spirited, hateful, greedy, narrow-minded, self-centered, rude, crude, metally lazy, obnoxious, pigs. Terrible to say, but sometimes I can't say I blame foreigners for hating us. Road rage, polluted streets, total loss of civilized behavior, cussing and spitting in public, violence obsessed, no health care for millions (who needlessly suffer for the sake of a few miserable dollars)...we treat each other like dirt. Is it really all that shocking when other peoples think of us that way? C'mon, get real. We don't care enough about each other to take care of each other...why does the way foreigners perceive us seem to shocking? In a word, ignorance. In another word, greed.

Okay, I said this blog was part-soapbox and part self therapy. Now I've done that bit, so let's move on, shall we?

I made some minor changes to my fantasy "100 wishes" wishlist...only to find that as of today, over 183 people have checked out my list! Why? I'm honestly dumbfounded. I stare at the number and say to myself, "who cares what I want?" It's not like I can actually afford to buy anything on the list. I couldn't even afford to buy a new hair dryer for $9 at Wal-Marts this week...thank goodness it's not cold out...I can go out with wet hair and not worry about it freezing stiff, ha-ha. The list is strictly imaginary on my part...just 100 things that I thought I'd like to have, if I actually had any cash to spend on myself. In reality...I probably would hesitate to buy even a few things on the list, let alone 100...and some of the items really are pure fantasy...nothing I may ever have or achieve. Heck, I can't even afford to pay for my late mother's furneral, or my library fines, or much of anything...just my internet/phone bill, electric and insurance...plus my car payment and rent...not much left over for food/gas, let alone little luxuries, and forget about entertainment...I can't even afford a paperback book right now. I'm just flabberghasted that anyone even cares to bother looking at my little list..wow, man. Just blows me away..and, of course, I'm puzzled as to who these voyuers could possibly be. Very odd, indeed.

Thought for the day:

The best survival technique is a sense of humor. A smile and laugh is your greatest asset.

2006-05-08T19:56:00.000-04:00

Well, another day off, come and gone. Woke up feeling lousy...headache and my bad foot was throbing to beat the band...not a good way to start the day. Quiet day, just laundry and a bit of shopping up to Warrensburg...wow! Traffic was awful, who'd have thought a one-horse Adirondack town like that would have a traffic jam? Well, it is the biggest town north of the city/suburbs of Glens Falls..which considering that we're inside a huge state park in the mountains, isn't saying much...most of the shops are closed by 8 or 9 pm at night. Tonight I watched TV at home for the first time in many, many months--with the antenna, I get 1 1/2 stations...sort of. But they're totally free, and it's better than counting the pine knots in my bedroom ceiling, so who's complaining? Not me. Not by a long chalk. My phone company, Verizon, is weird. Keep billing me for service I do not have. Think I have it straightened out...but for a communications company, they don't communicate with each other very well (sigh). Taking the CDTA bus driver exam this week. Haven't heard a peep from the temp agency about the receptionist job they contacted me for. Very fustrating! My present job is a drag...very painful and extremely low paying. Saturday night I got a nasty shock from an exposed wire in the vaccum cleaner, and fell hard on my bad foot. Did the boss ask me if I was okay? You gotta' be kidding! "The vaccum cleaner still works okay, doesn't though?" He asked. Hey, I know the score. Employees are replacable, professional vaccums are expensive. The cat is sitting over my shoulder like a vulture...I'm eating supper: Roast chicken, squash and mashed potatoes with gravy...she loves chicken. I think she'd climb right onto the plate and start knoshing if I let her. Regret department: Didn't bet the exacta in the Kentucky Derby like I'd planned to...wanted to save my money, and just bet the win. (Exacta: the 1st and 2nd horses). Yup. I picked 'em. I was stunned. I've picked winners before, but never the exacta (my choice for 4th came in 3rd, and my choice for 3rd came in 7th) Still, I won $13 on the winner. Not as good as a few years ago, when I picked a long shot in the derby and won over $50! I seldom bet anymore...just like to handicap sometimes. If I do rarely bet, it's usually only a $1 or $2. Some people in the betting palor spend hundreds! Must me nice to have it to throw away like that. The garage sales have begun already, but I have yet to go to one. Just not the same without my mom along. My heart's just not in it this year. Working on a playwriting project that my heart's also not into...tough..and it's a drama and I prefer comedy, so it's even tougher, and my co-author is doing nothing but shrugging off...(big sigh.) So as you can see, reality is indeed, not only not a TV show, it's really boring and uneventful sometimes.

Nancy's thought for the day: Try to do something nice for someone each day. Just because you're having a crappy day, doesn't mean everyone else has to.

2006-05-07T23:02:00.000-04:00

This is just a site where I write whatever springs to mind on any particular day--good and bad. Sort of like a semi-daily diary. I had a couple of sites on a free web site host, but something (or someone) got in there and began errasing my entries. When I tried to contact the site about the problem, the guy at the other end had the maturity of a ten-year-old and the common sense of a dead guppy. So...here I am. I decided to go with a blog, because, depending on the previous site, I was getting roughly 2 to 12 hits a day....very mysterious! That anyone would be interested in my mundane life!

My wishlist site, which also was posted at the "diary" page, has gotten nearly 180 hits at the time of this writing....very, very mysterous! I'm not really a material person--could care less about owning the latest gadgets or fashions. Quite frankly, I was simply bored. My wishlist is just 100 things I'd love--- or simply like, to be able to have...and none that I can afford at this time. No clue as to why nearly 180 total strangers would care to see a list of things I want but cannot buy....huh, the www is a strange place indeed. But, if you are curious (and also very bored), the URL is listed in my profile. Who knows? Maybe we'll have some things in common.

Anyway, for anyone who's gotten this far down the page, here's a rundown of my life so far in the last 6 months (as in, "My gosh, has it really been that long?")L

I spent a dreary November morning holding my mother's (aka: best friend) hand, alone in intensive care, as she died, Next: lost my financial aid/tuition hike and was forced to quit school after 5 years--just 1 year shy of finally earning my B.A., had my household income cut from $1900 a month to $750 for a little over two months, was forced to go on food stamps, couldn't find work for over 2 months, still can't find a decent (aka: living wage) job so I can actually have a reasonable future, lost my home, was just two weeks away from literally being homeless, have to get rid of at least two (should be 3 to 5) of my beloved cats so I won't be evicted from my new abode--and no shelter in 3 counties is taking cats at this time, I went back to school to get out of the low wage/hard labor trap--and I'm back in it--hence school was a total waste of time and $50,000....no one (employers) will give me a chance to show my stuff (I'm a whiz at phonework) for the only reason that I've been unemployed for the last 15 years due to disability/parental caregiving (Even though I went to school full-time and took care of 2 parents while recovering!),
Almost had my electricty shut off twice (which in northern NY in winter/early spring is not a good thing when you heat with electricity), Had almost no heat most of the winter (avg. indoor temp. was 50 to 55 farenheight), no hot water during the winter months, my car got a flat tire twice, I had pneumonia (while working/moving), Had to move mostly by myself with very little help, fell and sprained my ankle/fractured my foot and have to work/walk around on my feet at work everyday--and lost 2 days pay as a result, had no money for food last week--lived mostly on scrambled eggs and peanut butter sandwiches. Had to miss work one day, due to the fact that I had no cash for gas, I'm in constant pain, I've ripped two pairs of jeans and am down 3 pairs. Haven't bought any new clothes (outside of work pants) for nealy a year. Until tonight, for the last 5 months I've had no TV at home for entertainment, and for 2 months in the fall/winter no TV, internet or anything but a radio the cat and my books, I'm almost constantly alone when not at work--no one EVER invites me to go anywhere with them (not that I could afford it, anyway), I haven't dated since 1995, and...well, I've just plain had a crappy 6 months..Some good things have happened--mostly little things...getting to see the new Doctor Who series at work, making a new friend, the care and support of a few e-mail friends, getting a free tv set, job interviews, Bush's popularity rating..finding a cheap steak at the grocery store...little things that are appreciated.... but, I"m cautious--to put it mildly...I never know when things will get bad again....no, I'm not paranoid, just...jaded.

I know there's people out there...millions, who have things worse than me. I'm not blind (not yet, anyway--but that's another story.)

This blog is cheap therapy. That's all. It's just a way for me to either get on my soap box, vent, ponder, philosophize, whatever...I don't care if anyone reads this. Let me set you straight--this is just for me. If you want to comment, fine. But be aware that the stuff I'm writing is just my own heart, spirit and soul internalizing---in other words, it's me talking to me.

So, I'll be here, from time to time, talking about whatever's going on in my day/life, thinking in print about whatever stuff is rambling about in my brainpan. There'll be no cussing on this site, or sex or anything like that...I may be a bit rougher around the edges than I was 25 years ago, but deep down, I'm still old school, still a lady.

Nancy's thought for the day:

A woman who's not a lady, might as well be a fat, hairy plumber with loose pants.