Ramblin' again

      I have to post tonight even though it's late and I'm tired because if I don't, I can't jump on Frenzied Feline for not posting. And we all know I live for that ...
      So I'm posting, but I don't have much to say. It was a busy day at work; I came home and worked on a program for the local theater group's play this weekend. I have the proofs printed, and now it only needs to be taken to Staples and copied and folded. Otherwise, I didn't do much. I need to make a list of tasks to keep me focused, but I haven't even done that.
      Among the things I haven't done is make it to the gym tonight. But I have a good excuse -- uh, reason. I fell in my garage over the weekend and landed on my right knee with my full weight. It was a new level of pain, and I lay on the garage floor for a good 20 minutes before I dared to stand. But besides some swelling, ugly bruises and a lot of soreness, I think it's going to be okay. (I had it looked at by a physical therapist and a nurse.) Anyway, my knee's not quite up to the track or the bicycle. I am going to try tomorrow, but I will take it easy and go slow and stop if I have problems.
      What else? Hmm. You might be asking why I signed up for NaNoWriMo. Because it seemed like it would be a great way to get a lot of words down on paper quickly. Because I haven't done it before. Because sometimes I feel I don't spend enough time writing. Because it's there.
      You might recall that I mentioned that I was working on a new templace for this blog. I think it's almost ready to roll. If I get the time, we should see the change this weekend. But I'm going to save the old one just in case.
      I added another blog to my links. Check out Ex Libris and see what you think.
      And that's it for tonight, Frenzied. I hope this was adequate to allow me to nag you! Good night all.

NaNoWriMo & site updates

      No, I'm not writing gibberish. Well, not when I write NaNoWriMo. That stands for National Novel Writing Month. NaNoWriMo takes place in November, and I've signed up for the first time.
      The purpose of NaNoWriMo is to write a 50,000 work novel in one month. That breaks down to about 1,600 words a day. I don't know if I can write that much or not, but come November, I'm going to set Dragons Gather aside and attempt a new novel. I'm working on the outline now. I definitely don't want to attempt it without an outline. Dragons Gather has taught me that.
      So posts here may be sparse in November, but I'll keep you updated as to my progress and even post some excerpts if any suitable ones present themselves.
      Go to NaNoWriMo website to learn more about it. And maybe you'd like to sign up, too! That would be really cool. We could cheer each other on! So I challenge you to do so. Let me know. Let's win NaNoWriMo together.
      In site news, I changed the scrollies, the current favorite quote and added a few links -- NaNoWriMo, For Better or For Worse and the American Assocation of Editorial Cartoonists. Jean pointed out FBoFW, and I think it's an excellent comic strip. The AAEC shares many excellent editorial cartoons daily. Check them out.

Amazing discovery!

      I've been gone, but I'm back. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. But right now I want to tell of an exciting discovery that I made recently. Here's what led up to it.
      "Don't you think kissing is funny?" asked Helen as she sat down beside me at the coffee shop.
      "Who have you been talking to?" I asked sharply. "Was it Linda?"
      "Don't be paranoid," Helen said. "I haven't been talking to anyone. And I can't talk to Linda. I can't; her lips are still swelled. Exactly how did you --"
      "Never mind," I interrupted hastily.
      "Anyway, what I meant was, what exactly is a kiss?"
      "Two humans placing their lips in extremely close proximity and tradin' spit," I answered.
      "I know what a kiss is," Helen said. "What I'm trying to ask, is how much of a commitment is it? Is it just a friendly way to say good night or it is an invitation to elope to Brazil?"
      "I think it depends on how much spit is exchanged," I said. "Was it over a pint?"
      "Get real."
      "Okay, what brought this on?"
      "Well, I met this perfect guy the other day," she said.
      "Perfect?"
      "When he wears a white shirt, it's still white at the end of the day," she answered.
      I winced at this. Whenever I wear white, you can tell by the stains what I've eaten, where I've been and sometimes who I've been with. Mulling this over, I groaned inwardly. My stomach growled back while my liver hissed. Startled by this internal exchange of noises, I looked up to see Helen regarding me with an odd smile playing about her lips.
      "Go on," I prompted.
      "I will as soon as I drive this odd smile off," she answered, waving her hand and shooing it away. "There, it's gone. I went out with this perfect guy and kissed him just twice when suddenly he started being a quarterback, throwing passes and trying for touchdowns, while I was only interested in friendly first-downs."
      "So? He was a creep. Forget him," I suggested.
      "Yeah, he was a creep, but I wonder if I led him on," she answered. "Now, I'm not blaming me for his behavior; it was his fault, but maybe my kiss made him think I was more interested than I was."
      "I really can't evaluate your kiss without experiencing it," I said hopefully.
      "I wasn't asking you to."
      "Oh, but if you ever need me to --"
      "I won't," Helen said. "The other thing I wonder about is if I was worth the money."
      "This date is beginning to sound more interesting all the time," I said.
      "Grow up," she said. "What I mean is all the money he spent on the date. He took me to see a movie and then to a nice restaurant. And we went dancing after that. I figure he spent -- as a very crude estimate -- $94.73. Was I worth $94.73? You know, it puts pressure on a girl."
      "Pressure? To do what?"
      Helen looked at me.
      "Oh, that."
      "Yeah, that," she said. "I'll tell you one thing. Going Dutch might not be a bad idea," she said. "Well, see you later."
      Helen left, leaving me first to wonder why she wanted to date someone from Holland, but then to realize with dawning excitement that I wasn't cheap as some women have said. When I took them for hamburgers and fries, I was actually respecting their rights by not pressuring them. Truly, respecting women is the right thing to do. And saves you money, too.

The chalkboard of my soul

      I'm frustrated and unhappy. And no, it's not my sex life, thank you very much and keep your mind out of the gutter ... although that's a weird expression. Who is having sex in the gutter? What, you couldn't make to the curb? Just had to have some right there among the drainage?
      Anyway, I am having to cooperate with someone that I cannot stand. I keep trying to find the good in this person, but I can only find ego and selfishness. This person is rude to everyone around them in the guise of being funny. This person, who is highly educated, seems to think that said education gives this person an informed opinion about everything, from nuclear physics to relationships to politics to fashion. And many times, this person is so wrong that everyone is just aghast. Every time I'm around this person, I shudder inwardly, like someone is raking their fingernails across the chalkboard of my soul. (Yes, it has a chalkboard. We diagram things sometimes. Relationships, money, etc. It really is a good metaphor.) And if I don't bleed to death from biting my tongue, it'll be a miracle.
      This person is a poster child for passive/aggressive with that charming tendency to attack you when you least expect it. And if you snap back, you receive that wounded innocence, that "I was only kidding; can't you take a joke?" Hey, yes, I can take a joke, but you're not funny.
      We all have to deal with people like that. How do you do it? How do you keep from losing your mind? Naturally I assume drinking and/or drugs are involved, but what else do you use? Help me or I swear there will blood on my hands soon!
      Okay, okay, this isn't worth getting riled up about. Truly it isn't. In the grand scheme of things, we're talking a mosquito bite. Gotta remember that. Or find somewhere to bury a body. It's could go either way at the moment.
      Actually the best place to bury a body would be a cemetery. This is well-known to organized crime. They like to bury victims with other people. I remember a news story where they had to move a cemetery in New Jersey to make room for a new highway. When they did so, they discovered several graves with more than one person in the casket. Of course, it might have been a funeral home having a two-for-one special, but I don't think so.
      And on that macabre note, good night and pleasant dreams. Cue low, sinister laughter ...

A fable

      Once upon a time, not really all that long ago compared to when the last ice age happened, a young man was born into a harsh world. Up to that time, life for him had been nice and warm, and now it suddenly became mean and cold, starting off with a nasty slap across his tiny behind. If he had been capable of it, he would have crawled back into his mother's womb then and there, but he couldn't, and she wouldn't have let him anyway since she was tired of feeling like a sister to the whales and buffaloes.
      As most children do, he decided to make the best of a bad situation. Perhaps this world wouldn't turn out so bad, particularly if he could have his way all the time in every way possible. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. Unfortunately, he could not get his way always. Actually, he was lucky if he could get it even as often as a Democrat proposes a tax cut -- which is almost never.
      So, as most children also do, he cried and pouted until he figured out that tears and sulking would not lessen the harshness of the world nor make it do what he wanted; not that he hadn't won a few battles with his imperious behavior, but he wasn't making any headway in the war to get the world to behave. And since it wouldn't behave, he wouldn't forgive it.
      At this point, as most teenagers do, he rebelled against any and all authority. This lasted until he discovered fighting also could not alter the cruel world, and besides, the constant protests were making him tired and really cutting into his social life. Who wants to invite a slogan to a party?
      He despaired for a time, sampling life's pleasures and finding them lacking (although women were certainly interesting and worth some investigation.) Finally, he became a harsh critic of the world in which he lived.
      Surely, he thought, this shows how intelligent I am: that I am capable of seeing what is wrong with the world and telling everyone about it -- whether they are interested or not. And if someone is so foolish as to be happy, I will quickly point out everything which is wrong with the world and their life, and then they too can be intelligent and unhappy but oh so smart.
      This continued for many more years than it should have. He went along his way, dispensing his nuggets of nastiness with a smugness rarely seen outside of the Republican headquarters. He criticized the government, the churches, big oil companies, television shows and, of course, any and all people who had the misfortune to cross his path.
      Now you may think that he was lonely. But many people enjoy peeing on other people's parades, and they found him to be witty company. They traveled together -- he and the pee people -- rather like a pack of rabid wolves or mall teenagers, feeding on the misfortunes and mistakes of others.
      Slowly, after too long a time, enlightenment finally came to the not-so-young man who now knew he was not as smart as he had once thought he was. And this is what he had learned: that the world is full of critics, that any idiot that has had a bad day can criticize, that being cruel is too simple a lesson and we learn it too soon and practice it too much.
      He decided he wanted to be on the side of the good guys. While he could not save the world or even stamp out ringworm, he could search for the good things in the world and point them out in hopes that others would pick up the standard and become truly intelligent and wise and perhaps happier. And some of those things which he had found lacking, well, almost everything and everyone has a good side. Perhaps he just hadn't looked hard enough.
      He discovered how he could make people smile bashfully with a simple sincere compliment. He discovered the strength of praise and the mercy of silence. And he discovered it was possible to have an entertaining, engrossing conversation without resorting to spiteful gossip.
      Of course, he lost some of his old friends, but he gained an important new one -- himself. He could look in the mirror without flinching; after all, if he could forgive the world for being imperfect, he could surely forgive his imperfections also.
      Now this tale doesn't have an end because he is still writing it, but he is working for and hoping for "...and they all lived happily ever after."

A music meme from Trixie

      I read this meme at Trixie's Home and thought it was interesting enough that I'd participate.

      1. Go to musicoutfitters.com.
      2. Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function and get the list of 100 most popular songs of that year.
      3. Bold the songs you like, strike through the ones you hate and underline your favorite. (Do nothing to the ones you don’t remember or don’t care about. A bit of coding help: Use < s > and < /s > to strike through a line; just remove the spaces between the brackets. Use < u > and < /u > to underline; once again remove the spaces between the brackets.)

      Here are the top 100 songs from 1979, the year I graduated.

1. My Sharona, The Knack
2. Bad Girls, Donna Summer
3. Le Freak, Chic
4. Da Ya Think I'm Sexy, Rod Stewart
5. Reunited, Peaches and Herb
6. I Will Survive, Gloria Gaynor
7. Hot Stuff, Donna Summer
8. Y.M.C.A., Village People
9. Ring My Bell, Anita Ward
10. Sad Eyes, Robert John
11. Too Much Heaven, Bee Gees
12. MacArthur Park, Donna Summer
13. When You're In Love With A Beautiful Woman, Dr. Hook
14. Makin' It, David Naughton
15. Fire, Pointer Sisters
16. Tragedy, Bee Gees
17. A Little More Love, Olivia Newton-John
18. Heart Of Glass, Blondie
19. What A Fool Believes, Doobie Brothers
20. Good Times, Chic
21. You Don't Bring Me Flowers, Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond
22. Knock On Wood, Amii Stewart
23. Stumblin' In, Suzi Quatro and Chris Norman
24. Lead Me On, Maxine Nightingale
25. Shake Your Body, Jacksons
26. Don't Cry Out Loud, Melissa Manchester
27. The Logical Song, Supertramp
28. My Life, Billy Joel
29. Just When I Needed You Most, Randy Vanwarmer
30. You Can't Change That, Raydio
31. Shake Your Groove Thing, Peaches and Herb
32. I'll Never Love This Way Again, Dionne Warwick
33. Love You Inside Out, Bee Gees
34. I Want You To Want Me, Cheap Trick
35. The Main Event (Fight), Barbra Streisand
36. Mama Can't Buy You Love, Elton John
37. I Was Made For Dancin', Leif Garrett
38. After The Love Has Gone, Earth, Wind and Fire
39. Heaven Knows, Donna Summer and Brooklyn Dreams
40. The Gambler, Kenny Rogers
41. Lotta Love, Nicolette Larson
42. Lady, Little River Band
43. Heaven Must Have Sent You, Bonnie Pointer
44. Hold The Line, Toto
45. He's The Greatest Dancer, Sister Sledge
46. Sharing The Night Together, Dr. Hook
47. She Believes In Me, Kenny Rogers
48. In The Navy, Village People
49. Music Box Dancer, Frank Mills
50. The Devil Went Down To Georgia, Charlie Daniels Band
51. Gold, John Stewart
52. Goodnight Tonight, Wings
53. We Are Family, Sister Sledge
54. Rock 'N' Roll Fantasy, Bad Company
55. Every 1's A Winner, Hot Chocolate
56. Take Me Home, Cher
57. Boogie Wonderland, Earth, Wind and Fire
58. (Our Love) Don't Throw It All Away, Andy Gibb
59. What You Won't Do For Love, Bobby Caldwell
60. New York Groove, Ace Frehley
61. Sultans Of Swing, Dire Straits
62. I Want Your Love, Chic
63. Chuck E's In Love, Rickie Lee Jones
64. I Love The Night Life, Alicia Bridges
65. Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now, McFadden and Whitehead
66. Lonesome Loser, Little River Band
67. Renegade, Styx
68. Love Is The Answer, England Dan and John Ford Coley
69. Got To Be Real, Cheryl Lynn
70. Born To Be Alive, Patrick Hernandez
71. Shine A Little Love, Electric Light Orchestra
72. I Just Fall In Love Again, Anne Murray
73. Shake It, Ian Matthews
74. I Was Made For Lovin' You, Kiss
75. I Just Wanna Stop, Gino Vannelli
76. Disco Nights, G.Q.
77. Ooh Baby Baby, Linda Ronstadt
78. September, Earth, Wind and Fire
79. Time Passages, Al Stewart
80. Rise, Herb Alpert
81. Don't Bring Me Down, Electric Light Orchestra
82. Promises, Eric Clapton
83. Get Used To It, Roger Voudouris
84. How Much I Feel, Ambrosia
85. Suspicions, Eddie Rabbitt
86. You Take My Breath Away, Rex Smith
87. How You Gonna See Me Now, Alice Cooper
88. Double Vision, Foreigner
89. Every Time I Think Of You, Babys
90. I Got My Mind Made Up, Instant Funk
91. Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough, Michael Jackson
92. Bad Case Of Lovin' You, Robert Palmer
93. Somewhere In The Night, Barry Manilow
94. We've Got Tonite, Bob Seger and The Silver Bullet Band
95. Dance The Night Away, Van Halen
96. Dancing Shoes, Nigel Olsson
97. The Boss, Diana Ross
98. Sail On, Commodores
99. I Do Love You, G.Q.
100. Strange Way, Firefall

Confession

      I have a confession to make. It's not nice. It's a failing. I know it is, but I doubt I'll change. It's this: There are a lot of things in this world that I don't care about. Like Tom Delay's supposed crimes. Or whose fault it was in New Orleans. Or anything else that those dolts in Washington do. I don't care. I try to. I know it's important. You can read exhaustive and exhausting debates on other blogs and listen to the debates on Public Radio. The debaters care. Some people go around in a state of constant outrage. Once I admired their energy.
      But those people are important. Listen to Public Radio. Read the editorial page of the newspaper. Read the blogs and websites. They're important. Their opinions are important. People quote the Bible, philosophers, Founding Fathers, Rush Limbaugh, Al Franken, the Bill of Rights, the New York Times, the Washington Post, secret sources, the CIA, the Toran, the Koran, and the also rans. Everyone has an opinion and the wind to blow it out there so that everyone can smell it. Good for them.
      But it doesn't seem to mean anything. They change nothing. No one convinces anyone of anything. They yell and fight and in the end nothing changes. It's the same fight every time; names may change, but nothing else ever does. It bores me quickly.
      Let me tell you what interests me. Let me tell me of my friend Randall. His church has arranged to take volunteers to Louisiana to help clean and rebuild. That's interesting. I'm looking forward to hearing his story when he returns.
      My friend Linda has life threatening cancer, but is taking a brand new drug that may give her a miracle. That's interesting. I'm looking forward and praying for a good report.
      My Mikey has learned how to spell his name. Loudly, but all the letters are there. That's interesting. That's wonderful.
      I have more, but I guess it comes down to this. I don't care about abstractions. I care about people. Those Change the World links at the left aren't there for show. I give as much as I can to those organizations because they're trying to change the world for the better. They're out there on front lines. They're actually important. They're who you should be supporting or others like them. Stop talking and start doing something!
      This may sound like I'm attacking those other people. I don't mean it that way. Really, I don't. Everyone has the right to spend their time as they wish, but don't expect me to participate or even listen or read. I got taken to task harshly today because I don't wade into those fights with my elbows flying. I was told that I had an "obligation" and a "duty." To be heard. To be a part of the process. To participate. Blah, blah, blah.
      Well, I don't do that. And now you know why.

This & that

      Good news: My postal carrier found the missing boxes of checks! Now I don't have to change my account or worry about someone having taken them. It was a great relief.
      I will now confess to being a fan of Alias. But I'm not sure I'm going to watch it after tonight. They killed Vaughn! That whole romance carried the show. Anyone remember the last season of Beauty and the Beast? I don't know what the producers are thinking, but I think it will be lucky to make it the whole season. If the character is really dead. Alias brings back more dead people. So here's the deal: If they bring back Vaughn, then I won't complain (much) if that wench Lauren shows up, too. Yes, I need a life. Got one I could have?
      Did you order your GunShy CD yet? See yesterday's post on how to do that.
      I'm worn out so I'm going to call it a night. Y'all take care. See you tomorrow.

I will not take these things for granted

      A beautiful fall day. I felt the sunshine on my face like a blessing today. So winter's on its way? So what? Today it's still warm.
      My computer. It gives me problems sometimes, but it keeps plugging along, outdated as it is. It helps me write and be creative in ways I couldn't have imagined when I was a kid pounding away on a Smith-Corona.
      My job. Lots of people don't have one. It's not perfect job in many ways, but it pays my bills and keeps me off the streets. That's no little thing.
      A roof over my head. It's a modest house, it needs paint and some repairs, but many poor people would love to have it. Many people have nothing at all between them and the bitter winds and the burning sun.
      Food on my table. Millions of men and women, millions of children struggle with starvation. Truly I live in a land of plenty. The Change the World links are to remind me and my readers to give from our abundance to those who have not.
      My country. It isn't perfect, but it's the best that humanity has ever been able to produce. I'm not one to throw out the baby with the bathwater. We'll fix the problems. We'll continue to grow and change and get better. That's what we do.
      My dear friends. A close second to my family in my affections. I appreciate the laughter and lunches and talks about life, politics, and everything else.
      My precious family. In the end, they're the people I love the most and who count on me and on whom I depend. We've been together a long time, and God willing, have many more years to go.
      My personal salvation. I don't preach to people. I'm not built that way. But it would be a mistake to assume that my silence meant that I didn't take my spiritual life seriously. I hope that people can see by my life and by how I live that there's something more to this life, that we aren't alone by any means, and that even the smallest of us matter in this vast universe. I know I fail in this daily, but the struggle makes life worthwhile.
      Every now and then, I have to remind myself to not take these things for granted.
      Good night.

Dear Mr. Etiquette

Dear Mr. Etiquette,
      While I was driving down the street the other day, I saw my ex-girlfriend in front of a store. Immediately I rolled down the window and yelled, "Slut! Slut!" Now my friends are saying that I was rude. What do you think?
Confused

Dear Confused,
      I'm afraid I have to agree with your friends on this. The proper form of address should be "Miss Slut," "Ms. Slut," or "Mrs. Slut." It's these niceties of conversation that mark a civilized man.
Mr. Etiquette

Dear Mr. Etiquette,
      I'm 34-26-38, 22 years old, blonde and the recent winner of the Miss Busty Contest, but I'm not very bright. I'm afraid my boyfriend is cheating on me. What should I do?
Worried

Dear sweet Worried,
      Yes, he's cheating on you. Leave him immediately and call me so that I can comfort you in your time of despair. I'll be waiting.
Mr. Etiquette, but you can call me Et

Dear Mr. E,
      When it is polite to run your toes through the mashed potatoes? I keep getting strange looks at the local restaurant.
Dining Out

Dear D.O.,
      Was it too much trouble to write out my whole name? You are just another example of the lazy youth of America who, just because their daddy owns the newspaper, get made editor over more deserving employees who have toiled for YEARS at a thankless job answering mail from lackwits.
      But to answer your question, wedding receptions and formal state dinners. It's well known that Nixon's success with China was due to his amazing ability to pat butter into his potatoes with his little toe while sprinkling chives with his big toe.
Mr. Etiquette

Dear Mr. Etiquette,
      Lately my wife has been saying that aliens capture me at night for terrible experiments and that I shouldn't be surprised by any strange visions after she gives me my nightly cup of strange tasting coffee. I once woke up and could swear I saw our neighbor "Bob" wandering the hall in his skivies. And I keep hearing party music and my wife laughing. What do you think the aliens are doing to me?
X-Filed

Dear X-Filed,
      I wouldn't worry about the aliens if I were you. You've got bigger problems. In short order, stop drinking coffee, introduce Bob to the business end of a two-by-four, and get thee to a divorce lawyer. Mention my column, and you'll get a discount. They claim I send them a lot of business, but we know that's not true.
Mr. Etiquette

Dear Mr. Etiquette,
      Yo! I thinks my girl be seeing some sleazy newspaper columnist. I cherish the trollop, I do, 'cause she's wonned many beauty contest like Miss Busty. And now I and my boys think we're going to have to cut him, cut him bad. Should I use a shiv or a machete?
Maniac

Dear Mr. Maniac,
      Truly violence never solves anything. I'm sure if you take a few days to think about it, the whole problem will sort itself out. Unfortunately I am leaving for an extended vacation across the border and thus will miss out on hearing the good news.
Mr. Etiquette

Come Saturday Morning

      I need to get away, I think. Go somewhere new. Maybe New Mexico or Oregon. See the ocean. Walk among the redwoods. Be quiet in a place vast. Shake the dust of my life from my clothes and walk into the morning. Do you ever feel that way?
      I heard "Come Saturday Morning" this morning. Some DJ with a sense of the appropriate. It's an escape song. A longing to go away with friends and Saturday spend to the end of the day. I've felt like that a lot lately. What about you?
      Lately I look around at my office at work and wonder at how long I've been there and why I'm still there and how long I can be there and what is yet to come. I play with the idea of getting up and walking out and getting in my car and driving as far as I can, and for a few moments, I think I can. Do you ever?
      But then I remember what I've built here and the people in it and the burdens I took up and the small joys that I've cherished and held on to. And I don't walk away, just resolve to keep keeping on because that's what I do. Do you do that, too?
      And today I did housework, wrote, watched TV, walked among the late summer flowers and felt a bit lonely but not more than I could stand, not enough to seek anyone out or call them on their cell. I listened to the hurricane reports and watched the hazy clouds and the uncertain sun. I emailed some people and answered some emails back. It was good day. Did you have a good day, too?
      And now it's time for bed. Have a good night and good tomorrow. Okay? Okay.

Thoughts from a wandering mind

      "Pagan" received an astonishing number of comments, which greatly surprised me. I've posted poems before, and only a handful of people responded. Not only did "Pagan" receive more than any other poem, it received more than any other post.
      I like "Pagan." It said exactly what I meant and I think it says it well. But it's not my favorite poem or even my best. I write a lot of poetry, probably a poem or two a week. So maybe I've become a bit jaded. This was an interesting reminder of "the power of words," to quote one of the commenters.
      I appreciate everyone's comments -- some more than others, of course -- but the fact you read the poem and responded to it was gratifiying. The debate even spawned a blog entry on another blog. (I'm not sure if she wants me to link to hers here so I won't until I hear from her.)
      In other news, the Post Office or the check supply company has lost six boxes of my checks. That's 900 checks on my account floating around the world. I'm having to change my account and close the old account. Not a fun thing, but I don't think I have any other choice unless the checks show up by Monday. If they don't, the account switch-over will be finished. The joys of modern life.
      Going to the gym seems to be working. The other day after a shower, I was drying my left leg and noticed a muscle! I had to look twice as I hadn't seen one there for years, but there it was. And my right had one, too! Will wonders ever cease? I hope not.

Pagan

(For G.W. because I do understand)

And then she said into the stillness:

I will not be ashamed anymore
You can keep your original sin,
your shallow garden, your sly serpent.
They can suffer for Adam if they wish.

But I will weep no longer for Eve.
Keep, too, your tree, that trap baited
with lovely fruit. I have sufficient
guilty knowledge to last my life.

Finally, do not think that you exile
me into the wilderness. I go
willingly. There, I will find honest
trees, wise beasts and innocent waters.

And I will worship the earth and sky
with gentle dances of green rhythms.

Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.

Stone stream

A stone stream that carries the sulfur water from Vendome Well to Travertine Creek in Sulphur, Oklahoma.
Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.

Tuesday's Gone

      I ran out of energy Tuesday before I ran out of things to do. I was sleepy all day, and going to the gym after work was really grinding. I've been sleeping strange the last few days. Maybe it's the shorter days or the approaching autumn. I might be trying to hibernate like all bears do. Or maybe I'm just staying up too late. Could be.
      I had to go to the theater to take more photos of a play for the theater group web page. Didn't get everyone I needed to. Have to go back Thursday night, but hopefully that will be my last trip down there for a few days.
      I'm still using song titles for these posts. I won't do so much longer. I only want to use songs that I've heard of and have the days of the week in their titles. I'm about to run out of the ones I've heard.
      And now I'm going to bed. More tomorrow.

Manic Monday

      Busy at work today and then busy at home, trying to get the Great Filing Project finished. I didn't make it to the gym tonight, but I intend to tomorrow night.
      Ever hear of Larissa Lone? I hadn't until recently. She's a writer who lost everything during Hurricane Katrina. Other writers and editors are raising money for her and her family. One of the ways they're doing it is by auctioning off items on EBay, including manuscript critiques by various writers and at least one editor. I thought it was a great opportunity to help someone who needs the help as well as maybe get some help on my writing. So far, I've been outbid on everything I've bid for. My budget doesn't allow for much, but I thought maybe I'd get something. (I bid on three manuscript critiques and a couple of autographed books.) I hope whoever gets those items appreciates them. I'm sure Larissa Lone will appreciate their aid.
      My town ended up not getting any evacuees from Katrina. Apparently there was a tangle of red tape between the Red Cross and the local and state governments. There were a lot of disappointed people here. The supplies collected will be sent on to the Red Cross or to places that did get evacuees. I'm still proud of my town for the generosity and compassion its residents showed; not so proud of our elected officials.
      Well, that's all I have to say tonight. Take care. Catch you tomorrow.

A little stream

A little stream at Turner Falls Park.
Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.

Weekend Update

      It's been a busy weekend, and I haven't been on the computer as a result. I hope you enjoyed the song from GunShy. I think in a few years they might be playing on the radio everywhere. You'll be able to say that you heard them first here. If you haven't listened to the song, just scroll down and click on the link.
      Friday was an usual day at work. This coming Tuesday will mark my 13th year there. Someday I'll have to tell the long, strange story on how I ended up where I'm at. It's got lots of twists, turns, surprises and a terribly depressing stretch of unemployment that went on for nearly two years. (Those two years are the main reason that I'm in the financial state I am today. During those two years, I lived on my credit cards. Paid all my bills, including home and car, with them. With high interest rates, I basically sold myself into slavery. But slowly I'm digging out now.)
      After work, my roomie and I went and worked out and then out to eat at a local Chinese buffet. The current workout is this: Walk half a mile around the track, ride the exercise bike for 15 minutes, do 75 reps on the bicep and tricep machine, walk another half mile on the treadmill, 10 more minutes on the bike and then stagger a lap around the track to cool off. Probably not the workout of champions, but I'm able to do more each week. I think it's working!
      Saturday morn, my roomie and I went to the gym again first thing. Then I came home, showered and went to the library and bank. My roomie ran other errands. We met back at the house and then went to eat at Pizza Hut. (Strangely enough, I had never been in a Pizza Hut before. Can't say that anymore.) Then we went to flea market. I wish I'd had my camera with me. The market is set up in what used to be a motel. Each booth occupies one room or sometimes two. The outside is painted in bright colors with peace symbols, pictures of animals and people, and slogans (Make Love, Not War; Give Peace A Chance; Hug a Tree). It was rundown and smelly, but interesting in a garage sale sort of way. I stepped into one apartment and smelled the sweet, sick scent of marijuana. I haven't smelled that since college.
      We came home, and my roomie went to do lawn work at our house and his daughter's house. I did laundry and started the Great Filing Project. The GFP is still going on today and is my attempt to get all my business, personal and writing files organized. I had four file folders stuffed with things that needed to find a home or be thrown away. I filled my trashcan three times and am working on the fourth time. I don't know where it all comes from.
      Anyway, around seven, we went to WalMart and did some shopping. I've been trying to buy more food on sale and not eat out during the week. For the most part, I'm succeeding, although I'd be hard pressed to prove it this weekend.
      After putting away the stuff from WalMart, I watched a little TV (nothing that stuck with me; I can't even recall what I watched) and then I went gratefully to bed.
      Today, church, and then more work on the GFP as well as more housework and general straightening. The GFP isn't done, but I have it down to a six inch stack of papers. I'm going to try to get it finished this week.
      That was my weekend. I hope yours went well. I hope this week goes well, too. And now, good night!

Reflections

Reflections in Honey Creek.
Copyright 2005. All rights reserved.