A college class was told to write a short story in as few words as possible. The instructions were: The short story must contain the following three things...
1) Religion
2) Sexuality
3) Mystery
This is the only A+ short story in the entire class:
"Good God, I'm pregnant; I wonder who did it."

I'm tired. But mending. I think. Ultimately.

A post just for Em. Yes, I needed mouth-to-mouth, but fortunately, Spouse was handy *weg* Welcome back to blogworld. 'Bout freakin time, woman. I had stopped checking. Heard it from your mircspouse ;)

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad! Next year is their 50th!

I am feeling much MUCH better. Talked to Mom about why I wasn't coming home for T-day. I wasn't looking forward to that phone call, afraid of worrying her and all, but she took it well. After Dad's trouble a while back, other things don't seem so bad.

I really wanted to see Grandma too. Had planned to spend a night at her house. I will see her at Christmas. She's done a 'little cooking'... meatloaf, noodles, pies, cakes, etc. Still a damned amazing woman. 94 years young.

Now that my body is returning to normal, I think I might make it to 49. hehe

Happy Thanksgiving to all my beloved friends, family... aw heck... the world ;)

Unpleasant Week. Thursday night, I was in the E/R. I've been having some difficulties for months, trying to track down the problem(s) and self-medicate and all that... to no avail. I finally surrendered. Before panic sets in, it's not really serious, just ugly to live through. TMI: I thought I had chronic diarrhea with unknown cause. In truth, I was full of shit and got xrays to prove it. Literally, my entire colon was full, one end to the other. So now I am finally, slowly, and to be honest, painfully, moving 5-6 ft of golf balls... well, I told you, TMI. I will not be a happy camper for some time, on top of not being a happy camper for a long time already, and so on.

Incidental to this, but in my opinion, related to it, my BP was also very ugly. This has been a very stressful thing for months and will be stressful until it's cleared up. SO.... I am also on BP med, low grade, at least for now. Beats stroking out.

What else? Oh, yes. My spouse, whom I love dearly... more than ever... as he has been an immense comfort and help during my trials.... Well... he came home this evening and gently told me he is once again unemployed. (Yes, we are glad I got on the BP meds, I may need them more than the doc knew when prescribed.)

At the moment, I am either too focused on the more immediate personal physical hardship, or I'm in denial, or I just know that we've been here before and we made it and... what happens will happen. Spouse is in an industry which is famous for these kinds of changes. This had nothing to do with his performance. It's just the nature of the beast which is subject to the whims of the owners who try to wrangle it.

I was supposed to go Home to Lex for Thanksgiving. I won't now. I can't do what I need to do anywhere but here in my own home. That's an added bit that does not really help, but can't be helped. Good news is, I should be in fine shape by Christmas and if spouse is still free, we can stay a while.

Anyway, that catches you up with my uncomfortable world at the moment. All good thoughts appreciated.

I hope t'hell your life is going better than mine at the moment. Blessings.

SPECIAL BULLETIN! ...dit..ditdit...ditditdit..dit... The Jif dad who folds his peanut butter sandwich is the Propane dude!    just one of many little tidbits from the "I Need A Life" files....

Boundaries. There is great freedom in recognizing your boundaries. Sounds contradictory, doesn't it? We think of boundaries as fences or walls to confine us, or lines we're supposed to color within. We have a right to breach these when we feel urged to. These sorts of boundaries are usually set by the group or community we're in. We can choose to move them or break them. We have that power because we are individuals and each is free to make their own choices, whether those choices are echoed or disdained by others.

However, there are legitimate personal boundaries which we often do not honor and this can be a major cause of stress, guilt and remorse. Many times we can't determine where these boundaries are or we don't stop to consider where a boundary lies and why we have placed it there.

Your personal boundaries are not restrictions, merely recognition of where your responsibility and effectiveness begin and end. Some of us tend to feel that we should do everything for everyone. We are definitely in need of boundaries. We know, from logic and experience, that we cannot really do everything for everyone. When we try, we get exhausted, frustrated, disappointed in ourselves or others. It isn't healthy, yet we continue to try to do it. We often extend ourselves far beyond any reasonable, practical boundaries.

Let's quit it.

To help determine where your current boundaries are, pay attention to what irks you, what makes you feel like a servant, or tugs at your heart in a hurtful way. Notice instances when you feel that your effort is being wasted or taken for granted. These are cues. Listen to your own feelings and determine why you're working so hard at these things and getting nowhere or not getting the results you expect.

Granted, there are times when our endeavors are simply not easy. How many times must a mother tell her child, "Hang up your coat. Hang up your coat. Hang up your coat..." until the message sticks? That's something you have to work out. Where is your limit on these efforts? Are you taking care to protect yourself from sheer exhaustion by evaluating what you are doing, why, and even how? If you feel you are treading the same ground over and over again, that nothing changes despite your efforts, you may need to change your angle of attack. (Is the coat rack in a convenient place? Do you often pick up the coat yourself just to keep from having to say it one more time? What does this tell the child?...etc)

Recognize that many people are not sensitive to subtle boundary cues. They will push until you tell them they've crossed the line. If you do not establish that line, they reasonably assume that you to not have one. Do you see? Don't let the others in your life decide how far is too far. They may not be aware that you feel pushed to a breaking point. YOU must tell them, and preferrably long before the break actually occurs. Furthermore, words are sometimes not enough. You must demonstrate with your actions. If you 'give in', aren't you resetting your boundary? You may not think so, but others will perhaps read it that way. Reluctance may or may not indicate a boundary is nearby, but refusal is the actual line which others usually read.

Be aware of the smaller crunches and stings. Bring them up for discussion before you're at wit's end. This way you can work out reasonable compromises or at least alert the other(s) that you DO have boundaries and you would like to establish them so you can truly enjoy their company and your own. This applies to friends, workmates, spouses, children, relatives... every single person in your life. Some of us can be very sensitive to the boundaries of others and that's terrific, but unless you establish your own, you become nothing more than a bundle of what everyone else wants, needs, and expects. You lose YOU, because you have let your boundaries be overrun by all others.

Scientifically, do you know what happens when an object is squeezed down so tightly that it becomes a single point? It explodes. Does this sound familiar? You feel pressured and burdened until you have lost almost all of yourself and then finally burst outward, emotionally and/or violently, in response. Sure, people may give you a wide berth for a while, but gradually they seem to start in on you again? This means they cannot read your boundaries. What you've shown them is that you apparently have none until they hit that trip wire which causes the explosion. Only then have you let them see your limit.

Find your boundaries or set them for yourself. Share them while you are calm and the 'offense' is rather small. Don't let offenses stockpile and crush you until you explode all over the people you love, or demolish yourself.

PS - This is a slightly modified version of an article I wrote for the Venusian Voice area of my website Quicksilver but boundaries really apply to everyone. We have a lot to learn.

PPS - Don't bitch about the length of this blog. I gave ya'll a couple of quickies. I was due! hehe

Ya know, Pat Robertson's god must have some pretty serious self-esteem problems. *nodnod*

Yes, E-Oh, we're both ENFP. We have many similarities. It's a wonder we're not related. ;) I guess we are, just not in the same family tree, strictly speaking.

BTW, I tried to leave a comment on your Silence post, but I had trouble with it. I just wanted to say that yes, Silence is Golden. It's a rare commodity these days, precious and useful for finding one's sanity in the midst of chaos ;) In some circles we call it meditation. Highly recommended to just sit and clear the mind.

The Temperaments, yes. Fortunately, Shroomy, I've already taken that quiz a few times! :P I'm ENFP (Extrovert, Intuitive, Feeling, Perceiving) ... which translates as Idealist(NF), Champion(ENFP).

Excerpt from Keirsey.com
IDEALISTS can become highly skilled in diplomatic integration. Their most practiced and developed intelligent operations are usually teaching and counseling, or conferring and tutoring. They have an instinct for interpersonal integration, learn ethics with ever increasing zeal, sometimes become diplomatic leaders, and often speak interpretively and metaphorically of the abstract world of their imagination.

They are proud of themselves in the degree they are empathic in action, respect themselves in the degree they are benevolent, and feel confident of themselves in the degree they are authentic. Idealist types search for their unique identity, hunger for deep and meaningful relationships, wish for a little romance each day, trust their intuitive feelings implicitly, aspire for profundity. Idealists do not abound, being as few as 8% and nor more than 10% of the population.

For CHAMPIONS, nothing occurs which does not have some deep ethical significance, and this, coupled with their uncanny sense of the motivations of others, gives them a talent for seeing life as an exciting drama, pregnant with possibilities for both good and evil. This type is found in only about 3% of the general population, but they have great influence because of their extraordinary impact on others.

Champions are inclined to go everywhere and look into everything that has to do with the advance of good and the retreat of evil in the world. They are eager to relate the stories they've uncovered, hoping to disclose the "truth" of people and issues, and to advocate causes. Champions strive toward a kind of spontaneous personal authenticity, and this intention always to "be themselves" is usually communicated nonverbally to others, who find it quite attractive.... etc and so on...

I love my parents, my grandparents, all the people who contributed to who I am today. For the most part, I'm quite pleased with the legacy passed on to me. However, there are a few things I would have chosen not to inherit. A particular one came to mind this evening. I have apparently inherited my grandfather's 'gift' for finding the odd pit in the cherry pie filling, the one stem in a batch of greenbeans, the wee wad of silk that escaped into a can of corn, the tough bit of rind clinging to peeled tomatoes... I'm not sure what to make of it. I suppose if this is the bulk of back luck in my life, I am truly blessed, and I'll just chew carefully and keep spitting discreetly.

I'd say the Fall colors here are at their peak right
about now. And what a gorgeous palette it is too.

One of the many beautiful views from my deck.

Yes yes, Too much time on my hands *ticktick*ticktick*ticktick* Too much time on my--- You know, concerning spam ala prose, I am so enamoured with the idea, at least temporarily, that I have created a new blog, The Rolex Diaries ( http://unsolicitedjournal.blogspot.com/ ). I started it with Sage Bart's entry, but more to follow.
Update: *giggle* These are fun. It's like a modern version of beatniks spouting half-assed poetry in dark smoke-filled coffee houses. They called it avant-garde. Is that french for 'crap'?

New Hobby - Spam Watching? Since it seems impossible to prevent the waves of spam. Maybe I'll just turn it into a hobby. It's an energy-conversion thing. I can allow it to annoy me or make a game of it. I haven't determined the details of the game yet, but maybe there's a way to use the latest offerings from the Internidiots to have some fun? I dunno. I'll let it simmer on the back burner for a bit.

Unscientific list of common Spam sightings: remote control cars; eyeball webcams; drug plugs - viagra, cialis, xanax, valium; penis enlargement; breast enhancement; lonely hearts club date-by-jpg or porn site; petroleum stocks; and the latest on my Spam Watch list... a watch. Yes, a great deal on a Rolex, which I'm sure is the genuine article. Oh yeah. *nodnod* Absolutely.

I've noticed changing trends in spam formats. Spammers began with English and the standard alphabet, then of course they learned to spell with characters so a scan for 'viagra' is useless when the word is decorated into something only human-readable, like '\/i@gr&' or such. They've actually tried prose but it reads as if composed by the proverbial Shakespearean monkeys.

Lately they're avoiding text scans by posting jpg ads. These are often accompanied by prose-like text dumps. Not at all sure about the purpose for including that drivel, but sometimes it can be an interesting read. Example follows. Okay so I tweaked it and added my own punctuation, since the prose generators seem to be missing those characters. I guess they used them all up reconfiguring drug names?

Hmmm... Maybe this could be the game, turning the randomly generated garble into something... nearly... almost... decipherable?

From Bart's journal, perhaps, whomever Bart is...
     I dreamed of our ancient friendship until the early morning. How impossible I found it when I thought of her afterwards, to separate her from this look or that and walking about arm-in-arm the livelong day. Annie, thus addressed, made reply, "You are very well inward a firm fellow, a fine firm fellow, with a will of your own three times a week and faithful." It was only a dream, but upon waking I vowed to see her.
     I went to Conspirator first that I might take leave, given all I had for lawful permission to get down and thrash him and let all take care of the most wonderful woman in the world. Thus restored the sunshine to his face.
     "Everyone who knows you consults with you and is guided by you, Bart," the Conspirator said.
     "Come, it's not fair to abuse my confidence," I answered, reddening at the recollection.
     "Oh, that was as a child or a schoolboy," said he, laughing in his turn. "Besides, there's the Memorial."
     "Oh, certainly," said I in a hurry, "I intend, and more worthy altogether than anyone I have ever seen here, to rise up before I give my consent."
     The Memorial notion was then dismissed and other topics occupied us. He remained, so seldom raising his eyes unless to clap me on the shoulder again. "You are a very daisy that had long grown naturally out of our familiar relations begun as mere children."
     "But Harlan, you are going through the coachman Pasquale," I said condescendingly. I knew him and so did Mrs. Strong. They sang together and played duets together and we had quite given all I had for lawful permission to get down and thrash him and let all take care for anything.
     "True," he gave me only one last nod and a whisper, "If only I could have been inspired with a knowledge of the science of navigation."

It reads somewhat victorian and does rather pique one's curiosity, doesn' it? Wonder what those passages might do to speed readers? *weg* I don't know about you, but I think there's something hinky going on between Bart and Harlan the Conspirator, despite Bart's feelings for Annie. Just a wee bit of jealousy there concerning Pasquale, don't you think? But then maybe Harlan only uses him for his navigational skills?

(I know, I know... too much time on my hands. hehe But hey, you're taking time to read me, so.... :P )

PS - HA! There's a reason it sounds victorian. At least one passage is from Charles Dickens' David Copperfield --- "When we came at last within a stage of London and passed the veritable Salem House where Mr. Creakle had laid about him with a heavy hand, I would have given all I had for lawful permission to get down and thrash him and let all the boys out like so many caged sparrows."

This crap works! I know you've seen the annoying OxyClean commercials. They drone on and on throughout the broadcast schedule. I've done my best to ignore them, but after trying every other household cleaner on spouse's shower... well... I ordered some Miracle Foam. What the heck? I've already scrubbed and foamed and fumed. Why not try another 'miracle'? Honestly, it's not that spouse is an unusually dirty person, but for some reason his shower stall always looks like he's been working on cars instead of just selling them. Part of the problem is the texture of the shower floor. It's a very safe non-skid surface, but the same tiny nooks and crannies that keep you on your feet also love to trap gunk. Yuck.

So anyway, my 'miracle' arrived today and I tried it. WOW! Yes, I had to scrub a little but most of it was just waiting for the soggy foamy stuff to do its work. And AND it smells good, like oranges... and AND I stripped naked and stood in the stuff while using their scrubber sponge -without gloves- to clean the whole shower stall, including the frosted glass and the stainless steel door frame and water controls. So now it's all clean and bright and sparkly.

Again, I say, this crap works! Plus I could breathe while using it and in fact the whole house smells like fresh oranges right now.

I never thought I'd get this excited about cleaning. Now I know I'm hormonal. geez

Moods include swings, dontcha know. I'm in one. I'll be glad when I'm out again. It's grating, even on my own nerves. bleh

Media Gripe #143: Irks me when news people use emphasis to try to shape opinion instead of just reporting it. For example, just caught a report of a CNN poll which asked if Global Warming is a cause for the increase in the number of hurricanes and their intensity this season. Here's an attempt to relay the emphasis the reporter applied while reading the poll results:

MORE THAN ONE THIRD believe Global Warming is a MAJOR CAUSE. Just under 30% believe it is a Partial Cause. One in three don't think it's a cause at all.

The initial impression from the reading made it sound like MOST people were convinced Global Warming is the culprit! Oh MY! But the numbers were almost evenly split: 36% Major, 26% Partial, 30% Not a Cause. Certainly 6% is not enough difference to shout one and let the other trail off into oblivion. Not sure what happened to the other 8%. Maybe they didn't want to participate, knowing that polls come under the heading of Lies, Damned Lies, and Statistics.

Cynical Remark #143: How long before some afflicted member of our free-speaking society claims that Florida was spared the hurricane horrors of New Orleans because mostly white people live there? or because it isn't full of gambling whoring sinners? or because only wealthy retired snowbirds live there? or because the Bush Brothers are in cahoots?

Notice I didn't say 'free-thinking' society.

Elsewhere on the Darwin scale, there's footage of a speedo-clad nit-brain out dancing in the surf in the dark of night while Wilma barreled through.

Remind me again how long we have been evolving from pond scum?

The Incredible Eyelid Show. I have this thing. I wonder if anyone else has it. Maybe someone will stumble onto this note and say, "Me too!"

Sometimes I sit with my eyes closed, fully awake, but resting my eyes or my mind by closing off visible reality. When I do, I still see things. Most of the time it's that funky 'negative' image of whatever I had been seeing with my eyes open. You know how that is, right? White is black, blue is yellow, red is green. All the colorful three dimensional detail gets turned into blocks of glowing but washed out color or black shadow. Once my retinal memory gets cleared out, I'm left with a mostly black screen that's sort of grainy, with the occasional blip or spark popping here and there.

But sometimes... I see other things, interesting things, bizarre and fascinating things. The best images seem to appear when I'm just waking up. Kinda fun to groggily sit and watch the show while I'm, um, doing what one does first thing in the morning after a long sleep ;) The images playing in the vast dark expanse under my closed eyelids are like geometric fantasies in motion.

There's one recurring image which I find quite delightful. It's like a lacy mandala which covers almost the whole 'screen'. Imagine a rainbow doily in a very delicate weave. The image is... wait, maybe I can sort of draw this one.

Yeah, something like that. But it's more intricate with very crisp detail. Sometimes it slowly spins. Sometimes it seems to 'breathe', with the inner pattern coming out of the center and spreading out toward the edges while the outer portion seems to recede and emerge once again from within the center.

Strange, eh? But mesmerizing to watch... with my eyes closed :)

Okay, so like, which plague are we on? I lost track. Oh wait... Wolf Blitzer is interviewing Pat Robertson on CNN. I'm sure he will enlighten us on the progress of God's Wrath. *eyeroll* I dunno 'bout you, but I just couldn't respect a deity who throws such temper tantrums. Puleeeeze...