Usually my word-definition subscription service is quite mundane, but lately it's gotten much more enlightening...:

luculent LOO-kyuh-luhnt, adjective:
   Clear; easily understood.

sapid SAP-id, adjective:
   1. Having taste or flavor, especially having a strong pleasant
   flavor.
   2. Agreeable to the mind; to one's liking.

contemn kuhn-TEM, transitive verb:
   To  regard  or  treat  with  disdain or contempt; to scorn; to
   despise.

aliment AL-uh-muhnt, noun:
   1. Something that nourishes or feeds; nutriment.
   2.   Something   that  sustains  a  state  of  mind  or  body;
   sustenance.

temporize TEM-puh-ryz, intransitive verb:
   1.  To be indecisive or evasive in order to gain time or delay
   action.
   2. To comply with the time or occasion; to yield to prevailing
   opinion or circumstances.
   3. To engage in discussions or negotiations so as to gain time (usually followed by 'with').
   4. To come to terms (usually followed by 'with').

magniloquent mag-NIL-uh-kwent, adjective:
   Lofty or grandiose in speech or expression; using a high-flown style of discourse; bombastic.

Sooo......500 tbucks or a 'Woot Woot' to the first magniloquent blogger to use them all in a reasonably luculent sentence.  On your mark, get set, ... no temporizing!!!...GO!

Death Valley, Calif., is known as the lowest, hottest and driest place in the United States. But this winter, record rains have created a wildflower bonanza, and people are flocking to the desert to see the show. Check out NPR's story here:  http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story .php?storyId=4521310" title="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story .php?storyId=4521310" target="_blank"http://www.npr.org/templates/...

This pic is from the Moab desert site, circa 2004.  Find the site here: http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWERS/DSC02278.html" title="http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWERS/DSC02278.html" target="_blank"http://www.ctheusa.net/FLOWER...

Saving the best for last:  Photographer Richard Dickey has spent 19 years documenting desert blooms.  His images are beyond stunning and I hope to use them as the models for paintings.  I have not placed any of his pics here due to copyright concerns, but you will be blown away should you visit his site...here:  http://www.feralflowers.com/home.html" title="http://www.feralflowers.com/home.html" target="_blank"http://www.feralflowers.com/h...  If you click on only one link, this one should be it.

You can't see all of it.  The sides are cut off because of my scanner.  I updated it to spread it out a little, and the cut/paste resulted in the line down the left side of the painting.

This is my soul.  I found it in a box in the attic.
No really, go ahead and take it out and look at it.
Don't be afraid.  You can't hurt it.
Go ahead, poke it.  Try dropping it. 
You can even throw it against the wall.
It's very resilient.

This is my soul.  It was in the linen closet.
Folded in the darkness.  I thought I might take it out.
Hang it on the curtain rod.
No - it won't bleach out in the sunlight.
And it won't block out the sun from the room.
It's very translucent.

This is my soul.  I found it in the bathroom, under the sink.
I washed it off and it looks pretty good.
I had to take an old toothbrush to the cracks.
But now it's really shiny and reflective.
I thought I'd set it on the coffee table.  On a platter.
It's quite decorative.

This is my soul.  At first I didn't even know I had it.
But one day it was just there. Like a weed.
Like the poppy flower that blooms in the back yard.
By the swingset where I don't mow for weeks.
A lovely pink pom with a shady opium past. 
It's quite astonishing.

KMEOM

How rich are you?  To Find out, go to Global Rich List http://www.globalrichlist.com" title="http://www.globalrichlist.com" target="_blank"http://www.globalrichlist.com....

Be sure to check out the "Why are we doing it?" and "How do we calculate it?"  Links at the bottom.

Did You Know?:  (copied from site)
Three decades ago, the people in well-to-do countries were 30 times better off than those in countries where the poorest 20 percent of the world's people live. By 1998, this gap had widened to 82 times.

As far as nit-picking goes:  (Me again)
I wasn't sure if I should put in my household income, or divide it by the number of people in my house.  I decided to go with "divided by two" for the adults.  The other issue that skews the results is taxes and standards of living.  For instance, if I make $50,000 in the US, is that really comparable to the same (current exchanges rates) amount of money in Mexico, Germany, Switzerland, India, New Zealand, any country ending in "istan", or Peru?  Probably not.  Which is why many retired Americans now dominate entire towns and cities in South America.  But that's just nit-picking.  Regardless of where you are, chances are you're pretty rich on the world scale.

More about names:

When I worked on the phones 20 years ago selling the Amoco Motor Club to Amoco gas card holders, I ran across this surname:  Dikshit.  I didn't want to get fired, so I pronounced it Dike-shite.  I never saw the (East Indian) name again, but I often told my friends about it when the subject of odd names or cultural issues came up.

Then last year the Indian Parliament had a major upheaval, I can't remember what it was, but NPR reported on it.  I got the biggest kick out of Steve Innskeep referring to an Indian official being quoted as "so-and-so Dikshit" (and yes, it is pronounced just like dickshit) not once, but 3 times.  I was transported back to Jr High, pointing at the radio, convulsed in giggles, saying - "He said Dickshit on NPR!!!!"  Oh my...  good times....

I wonder how many common or uncommon American names sound obscene in other countries.  Examples, anyone?

Good times....

So my 8-year olds are leaving through old picture albums, and they begin discussing one pic that's 3 or 4 years old.  "aah, good times..." sighs one of them....

The banging Window

There's a storm window right beside my computer that is banging constantly in the breeze.  I knew last year that the wood had become decayed and the window needed re-mounted, but I haven't done a damn thing about it.  I suppose I should add that to the list of "things to do when I'm not blogging.....

No spinning for me...

I could have spun today.  It was the last day for the Tuesday morning class as they are discontinuing it next month.  The dirty truth is.....I haven't worked out for 10 days!  *gasp*  Well, there were meetings, and I've started helping my friend on Mondays and Wednesdays and last week was spring break and I had the WORST cold last week for 4 days.  Today was really the first day I've had full strength since the cold, so it would have been perfect to work out!!  But I decided to take a mental-health day instead.  I'm paying the bills and organizing my desk and balancing the check-book and updating my calendar.  Then I have to take one kid to the Dr and the other to drum lessons.

Yesterday was a really long day

No - really.  It was.  Here's proof:

4:30 Wake up after bad dream and decide since I've had over 6 hours sleep, might as well get up.
4:30 - 6:30  Fold Laundry, put away & wash dishes, vacumn and read paper.  Take shower.
6:30 - 7:30  Wake up kids.  Make bacon, pancakes and eggs for kids for breakfast.
7:30 - 8:30  Send kids off to bus-stop.  Clean up after breakfast.  Get dressed.  Post "WW3" on tblog.
8:30 - 9:00  Drive hubby to work.
9:00 - 9:30  Go to Girl Scout store to buy things I need for meeting later.
9:30 - 10:00  Drive home.  Run in and put bowl of "byzantine meatballs" in microwave.  Grab toothpicks and tray.
10:00 - 11:00  Take meatballs to school to watch daughter's report on the Byzantine Empire.  Feed meatballs that daughter and I made the day before to class.
11:00 - 11:15  Stop by nursing home to see if friend needs me today.  She is gone at her daughter's house.  Stop by her son's work to relay message - does she need me on Weds?
11:15 - 2:00  Come home.  Take advantage of un-expected free time!  Get mail.  Process Mail.  Log onto tblog and discover nuclear fall-out.  Spend time changing blog and deleting or hiding posts.
2:00 - 3:00  Finish getting things ready for girls-scout meeting.  Make plans for one daughter to babysit for her cousins after school.
3:00 - 4:00  Pick up daughter, bring her home to baby-sit.  Go back to school for GS meeting.  Make plans for GS daughter to get ride home.  Excuse myself from meeting early.  Get call to pick up hubby at 5:00.
4:00 - 4:30  Free time.  Tblog updates.  Check in with baby-sitting group.
4:30 - 6:00  Pick up hubby.  Take to Post Office.  Try to kid-nap.  (read previous post if you need to).  Drop off hubby at home.
6:00 - 10:00  Drive back into town.  Go to library.  tblog for exactly 60 minutes.  Drive around a lot.  Go to shoe store to buy daughter shoes for track.  Pick up sushi.  (First time I ate, not including 3 pieces of bacon and 6 small meatballs).  Drive home.
10:00 - 11:00 Log onto internet and find out about Minnesota school killings.  Hubby comes in to hug me and tell me he loves me.  I try not to let go, but do.  Daughter comes down to ask if she can go see Easley at House of Blues in Chicago for her birthday present, and we look up ticket info.  Sat night sells out as we watch, but Sunday is still available.  I say I will check with her dad.  Friend calls to say she is not sure if she will need me.  8-year olds creep downstairs and informed me that they cannot sleep because tonight they have watched "Sean of the Dead" and need to sleep with me.  Tell them to hop in bed.  They are warm and snuggly and not as tree-limbed as usual.  Goodnight.

I mostly chose the title for the fun of it, but I suppose there is some truth in it.

If I were a psychic, I would be out of a job.  I was excited, even somewhat - well, maybe not happy, but certainly positive when I got hubby's note regarding World War 3.  My hopeful demeaner was short-lived, though.

At last, I thought, At last we can toss aside the fluff and wade into it.  Well, we didn't wade very far.  First we were headed to dinner, then not.  Insults were hurled, there was lots of yelling.  I tried to kidnap him and haul him off to Chicago.  He was going to call the police to report a kidnapping.  Then I tried to make him walk home.  This was not a positive prospect for him, since his cell-phone was down and we were 20 miles from home.  Then he took the keys to the car.  My cell-phone works, though, so I was just going to call the locksmith.  We both temporarily conceded.  I dropped him off home and left.  How something so sad can be so very funny, I do not know.

I told him I don't really care if he reads my blog or not, although I do find it rather strange that he did so surrepticiously.  He said I didn't need to delete the blog, so I "unhid" what I had not already deleted.  Glad I didn't delete anything important....

I've never used the internet at the library before.  It's actually quite easy (and free).  But why does it have so many pop-ups?  Shouldn't they have software installed to prevent that?

EDIT - OK, if it wasn't obvious to y'all, I have control issues.  Yes!  Me!  I know, I know....  So I'm going back to stage 1 and keeping my nose on my own face and not putting it in anyone else bidness.  I'm not gonna worry about the issues that he is dealing with unless he wants me too.  I used to worry that this path was leading to the dreadful "parallel lives"...  You know, where they stay married, but they are really just room-mates.  Television is full of those couples.  They've been married for 30 years but they don't love each other.  Well.  I'm not gonna worry about that.  And I'm not gonna worry about his problems.  I'm keeping my eyes on my own.  We'll be OK.

http://www.typogenerator.net" title="http://www.typogenerator.net" target="_blank"http://www.typogenerator.net

I have begun World War 3. 

Oh yes, I knew I was pushing the button.  But I chose to do it anyway.  Call it apathy, acting out, suicidal tendancies...whatever you want.  It means nothing now.  For the beginning of the end has come.

Oh sure, I can joke about it.  But it's really not very funny, in the long run.  Black humor masks the stench of decay.

*sigh* And here, I had planned for detente.  The best-laid plans of mice and men have been discussed, but what of those of women? 

Oh, don't let my apparent regret fool you.  I maintain an aggressive assualt pattern, with no plans for relief efforts.  I have support-plans for the innocent children, but they remain in hot zones under their own risk.

On Saturday night I called my husband a liar who prioritized his television over his children.  I accused him of making a patently transparent bluff.  I told him that it was his fault we have seen problems with the older children recently.  I did this in front of his 5 children.  Yep.  Right at the dinner table. 

There has been some back-lash, this is true.  In a clandestine assualt, I installed NetMop to eliminate inappropriate late-night Net activities, (long-deplored by my administration) but it interfered with my tblog, so I deleted it immediately.  I am evaluating other options.  I have resigned the post of "DVD librarian".  The DVDs that were not put away landed in the "Good Will" box.  They were discovered, retrieved and then left out again.  They are now in the waste basket. 

The path I have chosen is ill-advised, imprudent and immature.

Oh well...

I never met my first love's father, though I saw him just once.  His father was committed to an institution 8 years before I met Jay.  Jay was 16 when this happened.  He was the oldest, and immediately became the man of the house, the responsibilities of running the family farm thrust upon him.

He didn't endure anything countless others haven't had and worse through eons of human experience.  At least he and his mom, and his brothers and sisters had the farm.  They did OK.

I met him when he was 24.  His mother, Phylis, always intrigued me.  She had the light of a girl in her eyes.  She must have been - oh what - at least 44 when I met her.  Barely older than I am, now.  She was pretty - beautiful when she smiled.  The beauty of a woman who raises chickens and bucket calves and drives tracktors and combines.  ...But her husband had been in a what? - nursing home? mental hospital? for 8 years.  Eight years.  He didn't know who she was any more.  But still she visited him.  I don't know how often.

He had Huntington's Disease.  This is a multi-faceted genetic disease that usually presents itself in one's 40's or 50's.  Once you know you have it, you have probably already had children.  There is a 50% chance that they will get it.  Jay is 50 now.  As far as I know he is symptom-free.

Jay told me that he only saw his father cry once.  When he was small, his mother was helping his father with a hitch.  Something went wrong and one of her fingers was severed.  His father blamed himself and was devastated.  Jay never once saw his father angry or raising his voice toward his mother.  At least, not until after the symptoms appeared.

See, Huntington's affects the brain.  First it starts with nervous ticks and involuntary twitches and jerks.  Then your personality changes.  You may become angry, sullen, prone to outbursts.  You eventually lose the capacity to care for yourself.  Then dementia and death.  Jay saw all of that.  The loss of physical control, the loss of mental control.  Then he went away.  Shortly after that, he stopped recognizing themwhen they visited.  After a while jay stopped visiting.  Yet his mother still did.  Jay's father died when Jay was 26.  I went to the funeral of the man that I had never seen.  The father of the man I loved.  I was a foolish 16 year old child.  I could see the resemblance.  I could see almost precisely what my lover would look like in another 20 or so years.  Of course, that was 24 years ago.

About 10 years ago, I heard that Phylis had married again.  I heard that she was happy, had married a farmer from a town about 8 miles down the road.  I was so pleased by this news in a way that is difficult to explain.  I know how much she loved Jay's father.  And I know it now so much more than I knew it then.  And even though I haven't seen her in 20 years, I can still see her smile.  It was hauntingly beautiful.  Hauntingly.

This post was blatantly and unabashedly stolen.  *gasp* http://encarta.msn.com/column_womenshistory_ marthahome/Eight_great_wo men_five_awful_ones.html?GT1=6305" title="http://encarta.msn.com/column_womenshistory_ marthahome/Eight_great_wo men_five_awful_ones.html?GT1=6305" target="_blank"http://encarta.msn.com/column...

Eight Great Women, Five Awful Ones
by Martha Brockenbrough

March is Women's History Month--the sort of event that makes some people say, "Hey. What is so special about women's history? And when is men's history month?"

The smarty-pants answer to that is that every month is men's history month. But as with most smarty things, that's not a very satisfying answer, and women's history deserves more than the smarty-pants treatment. It's a vast subject, spanning both the globe and the thousands of years we humans have been recording events.

But there's one way that Women's History Month has tended to be, well, a little sexist.

History tends to favor heroes. Despite this fact, most history books will also teach you about the bad men--warlords, dictators, and crazy emperors who turned their horses into senators.

The baddies of women's history, on the other hand, don't get nearly as much play. And the fact is, there have been some pretty bad apples. So, in the name of equality--and the right of women to be just as wicked as men--here are the stories of 13 women, 8 good and 5 bad.

The good eggs

Agnodice
In the 4th century BC it was illegal for women to practice medicine in Greece. But the 1st-century-AD author Hyginus wrote that one Greek woman, Agnodice, disguised herself as a man, studied medicine, and set up a bustling practice in Athens. Scholars debate whether Hyginus's tale is true, but I wonder if one reason we can't find corroborating evidence is that she was a woman.

According to Hyginus, Agnodice was so successful that other doctors got jealous and accused her of "corrupting" aristocratic women. So, Agnodice revealed that she was a woman herself--and was promptly arrested and sentenced to death.

Her devoted patients came to her rescue. All noblewomen, they threatened to kill themselves if she was executed. It worked, and thereafter, all free women could become doctors--as long as they treated women only.

The Trung sisters and Phung Thi Chinh
Trung Trac and Trung Nhi, sisters and widows of Vietnamese aristocrats, led a major uprising against Chinese invaders in AD 39. Trung Trac ruled for four years before the Chinese conquered Vietnam again, but resistance continued for the next 1,000 years. Many women figured in the resistance, notably Phung Thi Chinh, who fought while pregnant, paused to give birth, and rejoined the fight with her baby on her back.

Deborah Sampson
During the Revolutionary War Sampson put on a man's uniform and fought under the alias Robert Shurtleff. Hit in the leg during the Battle of Tarrytown, Sampson removed the musket balls herself so that no one would guess her identity. She later took a shot in the shoulder at the Battle of Yorktown and came down with brain fever (an old-timey term for inflammation of the brain). It was only then that a doctor figured out her secret.

Accounts differ over what happened next, but Sampson was eventually given an honorable discharge. Paul Revere later helped her get a soldier's pension, and she went on to give lectures about her experience.

Nellie Bly and Ida Wells-Barnett
Elizabeth Cochrane Seaman--using the pen name Nellie Bly--helped invent an important kind of journalism, even if it did get an ugly name: muckraking. Writing for Pittsburgh and New York newspapers, Bly exposed corruption, horrible prison conditions, slums, and factory abuses. Her most famous exploit, however, was probably the ten days she spent disguised as a patient in a mental hospital in 1888. Her book, 10 Days in a Madhouse (1888), became a bestseller.

Bly didn't stop there. In 1889 and 1890, she circled the globe in 72 days, 6 hours, and 11 minutes, beating Jules Verne's fictional 80-day mark. The story of that adventure, Nellie Bly's Book: Around the World in Seventy-two Days (1890), also became a bestseller.

Ida B. Wells-Barnett was Bly's equally remarkable contemporary. Wells-Barnett is kind of a precursor to Rosa Parks. In 1884 Wells-Barnett, the daughter of former slaves, was traveling on a first-class train ticket to Memphis. White passengers complained that she should leave the first-class car, but Wells-Barnett refused to move to the smoking section, which was reserved for blacks. She was eventually kicked off the train.

Wells-Barnett sued the railroad and won a $500 judgment, but the Tennessee Supreme Court later overruled her victory. She told her story in a newspaper--launching her career as an activist journalist.

Valentina V. Tereshkova
You hear a lot about Sally Ride, who in 1983 became the first American woman in space. But Soviet cosmonaut Valentina V. Tereshkova beat her into orbit by 20 years. In 1963 Tereshkova rode the Vostok 6 spacecraft into orbit and circled the Earth a whopping 48 times during her three-day mission.

To put this in perspective, Tereshkova spent more time in orbit than all the U.S. Mercury astronauts combined. (Too bad she didn't write a book, Around the World 48 Times in Three Days: Neener, Neener, Nellie Bly.)

The bad apples

Countess Nadasdy
This Hungarian countess, also known as Elizabeth Bathory, had a disturbing beauty regimen. She believed that soaking in human blood would keep her forever young, giving a new and hideous meaning to the term bloodbath.

It didn't work. But before she died in 1614, she had stolen the lives of hundreds of female servants. (The Web site Bathory.org says her diary documented 612 killings, but other sources offer slightly different figures.)  (Note from Alt - she is also known as the world's first documented female serial killer.)

Mary Reade and Anne Bonney
Pirates are bad, but women pirates could be especially dastardly. In the early 1700s, Mary Reade and Anne Bonney donned menswear and terrorized the West Indies. (This is after Reade had served in both the British army and navy, but decided, evidently, that her survival depended on plundering instead of public service.)

The pirating pair was captured in 1720 and sentenced to hang for their crimes. But, choosing an escape route not available to their male colleagues, they claimed to be pregnant--and after they were released, they fled (according to one version of the story). Another version claims that Mary Reade later died of fever and that no one knows what happened to Anne Bonney, other than the fact that she wasn't executed.

Mary Mallon
"Typhoid" Mary Mallon worked as a cook in New York, and after an outbreak of the disease in 1904, she was recognized as a carrier. But this didn't stop her from handling food. She went from job to job, infecting the innocent until she was caught in 1907 and committed to an institution until 1910.

She wasn't supposed to work in food service again but did--spreading more disease in her wake. In all, authorities attributed 51 cases and three deaths to "Typhoid" Mary, who was institutionalized again in 1914. She died in 1938 but not from typhoid. She was immune to the disease.

Ilse Koch
Last but not least is Ilse Koch, who committed atrocities in Nazi concentration camps (for which she got life in prison). But this wasn't the extent of her crimes: She also collected lampshades and other ornaments made from human flesh.

So there you have it. The best of women, the worst of women. But most important, a reminder that women have been right there with men, all through the years.

(EDIT - for those that are hitting me on search engines, here is a place to get a living will template and advice:http://www.iowabar.org/Public" title="http://www.iowabar.org/Public" target="_blank"http://www.iowabar.org/Public...%20Information%20Brochure s.nsf/d7ff6dc91c517cdb86256 7ba00690c91/7aa8646a0f7db 1a286256fcc0061abf9!OpenD ocument)

Do a search on Terri Schiavo/Schindler, and you'll discover that she is the subject of many dedicated blogs.  She is, of course, the woman whose doctors consider her to be in a "persistant vegetative state" - or not, depending on whom you ask.  Her husband wants her feeding tubes disconnected and her parants do not.  They've been legally wrangling back and forth for years, and the issue is quite possibly coming to a head this week.  If you have followed this at all, you may know that there is a great deal of controversy surrounding the matter.  Her husband is accused of greed and abuse.  Her parents are apparently guilty of nothing more than undying love.

But I'm not posting to choose a side.  I'm encouraging all who read this, young or old, to discuss this case with their loved ones.  Spend a lot of time thinking and talking about your preferences if something like this were to happen to you, either by trauma or medical incident.  Then, after much discussion with your family, pick up a living will and document your desires should the difficult choices become necessary.

Added:

Sorry - I had to run.  Back now to add -

If you are in a serious relationship without benefit of marraige, the living will is absolutely essential to help protect your wishes and those of your partner!  Most gay couples are aware of this, but straight couples need protection, too.  And even if your parents (or next of kin) and your partner are on excellent terms - a situation like this can change that very quickly.

Keep in mind that Terri is NOT on life support.  In most cases, life support (which continues the pulmonary and respiratory actions of the body when the body is no longer able to sustain them) is discontinued without controversy.  The question for Terri is her feeding tube, which keeps her from essentially starving to death.  Many terminal cancer patients and elderly patients suffering from various complications choose not to have a feeding tube when they are no longer able to feed themselves.  But in someone young and not ravaged by disease, this is much more controversial.

So - Once again, the point of my post is NOT to choose sides - but to remind everyone that regardless of your age and current state of health, you should ensure that you have an updated living will.  Such wills are not ALWAYS honored by the courts, depending on the situation.  BUT - they are taken into consideration and weigh heavily into any decision.

Well, all this discussion of marraige...

1)  Don't you think that it would be very stressful to live and work in Taipai?*

2)  On this day in 1870, a huge snowstorm blew accross Iowa, prompting one Iowa newspaper to use the word "blizzard" - meaning a torrent or super-abundance - to describe it.  This was the first documented use of the word to describe a driving snowstorm.

3)  On the news:  Recently American troops were under attack, and they "killed 5 insurgents, and wounded 5 civilians, 2 fatally".  Now, I know that it probably means that the two fatally wounded civilians probably lived until they made it to the hospital, thereby justifying the description.  But I still thought it sounded rather strange.  As if it's better to be "wounded, fatally" than to be "killed".

* Get it?

For one summer after my freshman year in college, I lived with a 93 year old Croatian woman who had had an arranged marraige with a slightly older man.  They were married until he died and they had, I think 12 children.  She told me she had never loved her husband.  She sounded regretful, but at 18, I wasn't very good at relating to someone 75 years older than me, so I never really knew.  As far as I know, none of her children had divorced.  Of course, the whole family was staunchly Catholic, that might have had something to do with it.... 

I have talked with people my age and younger who lived in the states, but preferred to have their relatives in Pakistan and India arrange a marraige for them.  They felt that American "love" was little more than infatuation, and that an arranged marraige, done skillfully by people who loved them and knew them well, would be rewarding and would result in a love bond, as well as economic and social compatability.  Very different from our way of thinking, huh? 

As I write this, I am reminded of services like Match.com... several people have sworn by that particular service, which purports to be about setting you up with the best match for your personality, etc, etc... a modern alternative to the yenta?  Surely it must be better than the nightclub.  And only ScubaDiva can meet a guy at the grocery store.  And next time you meet a nice guy at church, you have to worry that he's really an escaped convict staying in a cubbyhole in the nearby Toy's R Us!!!

Oh dear,  I have so much source material and could wax on and on about this, yet I have not yet written of Robert O Fisch and me wandering through the Minn Inst of Art sniffling and blubbering.... and this week spring break no less.  As it is, I leave the computer at this very moment to see why two 8 year olds are wailing as if the world were coming to an end....  C'est la vie.  All-star kiddy wrestling right up stairs and me not making a dime off it!!!  :oP

UPDATE: 

Here it is:

AVERSIONS

This morning was a literal punch to the gut almost before I got out of bed.  I woke up with diarrhea and I could feel the onset of new kidney stones getting started.  With the impending medical problems I knew a bad body odor would soon follow. Now there would be people making assumptions about me when they don't even know me.  I don't like it when people are so closed-minded.  It's just mean.  But I needed to hurry.  I knew it was top priority to balance my checkbook before my brother in law arrived to take me to the doctor. My brother-in-law is one of those male chauvinist pigs who runs around screaming about females who support sexism, so... I wasn't looking forward to the ride there.  On the way to the doctor's, we immediately encountered one of those drivers who pull out in front of you and then immediately turn left. Assholes.

When we get to the doctors office the receptionist  just sat there ignoring me. You know what pisses me off?  People who just won't do their fucking jobs! Really stresses me out!  Then I want chocolate, dark chocolate, not white chocolate, it just ain't the same kind of comfort.  And NOT the kind with coconut, either!  Whoever invented chocolate with coconut should be stuck into a pit full of unruly kids and snakes!  Besides, white chocolate reminds me too much of sour cream.  And sour cream reminds me of ranch dressing. Then I just want a huge salad.

On the way back from the doctor's office, I thought about my good friend, Craig, whom I had last seen dusting my cluttered office in the nude, his pink skin glowing in the harsh light.  At first, I was reminded of how I am trying to give up colas, but it also made me realize why I don't like going without sex for any length of time.  I'm always horny, especally when I see a nude man!   But sometimes having sex causes a relationship, and then all you get is drama, drama, drama!

I hate drama of any kind!  Unless, of course, it's in the form of the nude dusting man, wearing the color pink and arguing with people who talk out of both sides of their mouth.

Of course, these thoughts of Craig always leave me wondering about the struggle it takes to just be yourself, why is it such a struggle? Look at Craig... talk about the past creeping up and catching you off guard... of course we've always suspected he has one of those borderline personality disorders... but, come on... I mean POSSUMS??? For God's sake!!!!!

But after an exhausting morning at the Dr.'s office I knew I had to get back to work. Back to the little cubicle - like being stuck in a rut. To say nothing of all the office politics and getting sucked into them whether I like or not. I'm so tired of the people who complain about the same things but never do anything about it. Then it's time for lunch where I sit around with 5 lifetime members of Jenny Craig and have to hear, for the 599,999th time, about every freakin woman's diet in the office!

Once I returned from lunch it was time for a meeting, you know one of those meetings without meaning. My boss isn't too good at public speaking. As a matter-o-fact, he looks like a  mouse eating cheese. He has the whiskers to boot!  In fact, I'm not the only one who thinks of him as a rat!  He's always going on about something.  He belongs to one of those legalistic religions that kill the spirit - yet somehow he still thinks it's OK to be a racist backbiter!  Go figure...

Well, that was pretty much my day...  Wait'll you hear the story about how my evening went!!!.....



The list:

male chavinistic pigs
females who support sexism
drivers who pull out in front of you and then immediately turn left
coconut
people who won't just do their fucking job
racist people
people making assumptions about me when they don't know me
dusting
possums
my cluttered office
office politics and getting sucked into them whether you like it or not
the struggle it takes to just be yourself, why is it such a struggle?
white chocolate -just ain't the same
mice/rats/anything that looks like them
bad body odor
backbiters
the past creeping up and catching you off guard
diarrhea
kidney stones
assholes- (not the body part, just the people)
pink skin
public speaking
meetings without meaning
being stuck in a rut
going without sex for any length of time
sour cream and ranch dressing and anything resembling them
close minded people
people who complain about the same things but never do anything about it
snakes
having to hear, for the 599,999 time, about every freaking woman's diet in the office
the color pink
my brother in law
trying to give up colas
getting out of bed
legalistic religions that kill spirits
arguing
balancing my checkbook
unruly kids
borderline personality disorders
people who talk out of both sides of their mouth
mornings
drama of any kind
m

This 2002 suzuki marauder 850 is the make, model and year of bike I think I am getting!!!!  Hubby got spring fever this week and a friend of his is selling his bike for a steal - only 150 miles - can you believe it!!!  why would someone buy a bike and not ride it - he had it for nearly 2 years - crazy huh????  well - it's good news for me!  Since hubby can’t ride for a year, the bike’s mine.  And by the time that year is up (we planned on sharing it) i just know that hubby will want to get a bike of his own instead  (that's my nefarious plot, anyway....) and this one - the one like it, that is - will remain all mine!!  Mwahahahaha  Mwahahahaha

My neighbor’s house.  I painted it for her in August of ’03.  Right after the accident and amputation and preceding a very long convalescence.  I hoped that it would comfort her, as it really does look just like her house.

It’s much more effective as a gesture of love than one of skill.  But I like it anyway.  I borrowed it back to scan a copy.  Here it is.

Alice was 43 years old.  She was a tall, confident redhead who smoked unusual cigarettes, the kind you can only buy at tobacco shops.  She was going through a messy divorce complicated by the family business.  The plumbing/electrical business had been in her family forever.  It was known by her maiden name.  While she handled all the office work - her husband was the chief service provider.  In order to get out of the marraige as easily as possible, she was pretty much giving him everything.  She had a 13 year old son.  I didn't know her well.  She was born and raised in my small town, and I have only lived here 4 years.

She died yesterday morning.  Well - you could say that she died on Saturday night.  On the side of the highway after the pick-up truck she was riding in rolled several times.  But life-support kept her alive long enough for her loved ones to say good-bye.  Then they turned off the machines and let her body rest.

Yesterday I drove my husband to a town a couple of hours away, along a busy two-lane highway.  We talked briefly of the crisis we have recently experienced with our (oldest) teenage daughter.  We each blamed ourselves in our own way.  I told him that I was upset about Alice's death.  I feared that if I died suddenly, I will have left my family with a mess.  The basement is a horror, filled with many year's worth of detritus.  And my husband knows nothing about my somewhat lackadaisical methods of organizing, paying and filing bills, insurance and investment statements.  I said - "I suppose you could pay the bills as they came in, but there are always complications.  I need to get more organized and make sure you know where to find things."  We lapsed into silent reverie.

Out of the reverie, I suddenly focused and yelled "Jesus Christ!!!" and firmly applied the brakes while steering to the ditch.  About 4 seconds in front of me and closing the gap at 120 mph (or 162 feet per second) was a large semi-truck pulled over about 1/3 of the way into my lane.  I can only assume he had been in some sort of reverie of his own, and he quickly pulled back.  It wasn't even close...  But the adrenaline had already been dropped.

My husband's first words were... "So where do you keep those insurance papers?"  I gave him a quick and breathless run down, adding "It could take some looking, but you'd find everything you needed."

We lapsed back into reverie (but perhaps a little more vigilent).

Two people I didn't really know died today. 

Lori Schuster's daughter, Ali, left her this morning.  Thank you, Lori, for sharing your angel with us.

A woman in my village, who I knew just a little, had spend a day with once, shared a couple of conversations, bummed a cigarette...  Her life support was disconnected today, after she suffered a serious car accident on Saturday.  She was 43.  Her son is 13.

Too many people have died on that damn road in the past 4 years.  It defies statistics...  There are too many.

"From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity."
Edvard Munch