Lord Revive Us

I'm pretty down for reasons I don't like revealing. Since lunch I've had one song on continuous replay from 'In Sweetest Union Join', "Return Again," a scared harp/ shape note song.
The recording has these few lines:

Savior! visit thy plantation;
Grant us, Lord, a gracious rain!
All will come to desolation,
Unless thou return again:

Lord, revive us, Lord, revive us:
All our help must come from thee!

Keep no longer at a distance,
Shine upon us from on high!
Lest, for want of thine assistance,
Ev’ry plant should droop and die:

The rest, not included goes:

Surely once thy garden flourished:

Ev’ry part looked gay and green;
Then thy word our spirit nourished,
Happy seasons we have seen:

Lord, revive us, etc.

But a drought has since succeeded,
And a sad decline we see;
Lord, thy help is greatly needed,
Help can only come from thee:

Lord, revive us, etc.


Where are those we counted leaders,
Filled with zeal, and love, and truth?
Old professors, tall as cedars,
Bright examples of our youth!

Lord, revive us, etc.


Some in whom we once delighted,
We shall meet no more below:
Some, alas! we fear are blighted,
Scarce a single leaf they show:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Younger plants, the sight how pleasant!
Covered thick with blossoms stood;
But they cause us grief at present,
Frost has nipped them in the bud:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Dearest Savior, hasten hither,
Thou cans’t make them bloom again;
O, permit them not to wither,
Let not all our hopes be vain:

Lord, revive us, etc.


Let our mutual love be fervent,
Make us prevalent in prayer;
Let each one, esteemed thy servant,
Shun the world’s bewitching snares:

Lord, revive us, etc.

Break the tempter’s fatal pwoer,
Turn the stony heart to flesh;
And begin from this good hour
To revive thy work afresh:

Lord, revive us, Lord, revive us;
All our help must come from thee.

-John Newton

Entrepreneurial Fantasy

I want to open up a small cafe called "The Reading Room" where people eat quietly. Where single diners can come and be okay. I will serve good hot breads and soups and salads. There will be tea and simple coffees (black, cafe au lait, esspresso). The walls would be lined with reference books (language dictionaries, writing manuals, classic works of literature and non-fiction that getquoted often), and there will be several wi-fi signals so people can eat & quitely surf. Once a week or month there would be a speaker invited to come and talk about some issue on the upper floor.

Another thing- race

Okay I made fun of the Help for clapping like a white guy, and I guess that's the one racial thing mentioned in the last post. But there was another observation about the Grace PCA church I want to mention, it was comfortably diverse.
Though the church was predominately white (and under drinking age) it was not all white. I've been in all white churches or mostly white churches where I am the only visible minority or I can count people of color on one hand. Grace was roughly 10% non-white, with a fair number of interracial couples. Two of the children who were baptized that night were bi-racial, half Asian and half white.
Wallace (the Help's church) is fairly racially diverse too... and age diverse. A bit more so, with blacks, South Asians, East Asians, and Latinos dotting the chairs throughout the sanctuary. Racially, I'm at ease there. Liturgically, not so much.
Speaking of, I guess I can now say that I find Presbyterian sermons too damned long. About 2/3rd of the way through I'm thinking, 'wrap it up.' I appreciate the tradition in Anglican, Lutheran, and Catholic churches to keep the homily under 20 minutes.

I feel so OLD

Yesterday the Help and I went to check out a PCA church closer to the house Grace Church over in Chinatown. Now Grace doesn't have it's own building and thus is housed in the Mt. Calvary Baptist Church and has services at 5pm.

We arrived about 15-10 minutes before service to do that very American thing of "getting a good seat." I was venturing towards the left side when the Help suggested the balcony. So we went up and I noticed it was an old building with old building/ little money for 'historic maintenance problems. As the church was filling up we noticed something. The kids filling the pews looked about college aged. It was like we were attending some college lecture. I swear the average age of the congregation was about 25, only because there were a handful of senior citizens. If the old people stayed home, I'd say the average age was about 22. As part of that evening's service there was a baptism of one of the elder's kids. The elder couldn't be more than 35. The pastor was 45. At least there was someone older than us who wasn't retired.
Besides feeling like the cougar and the old guy in the club the church was quite nice.

Oh there was one odd thing. The greeting, or in some traditions, the peace. Now I'm accustomed to the shaking of hands and saying , "G-d's peace," and moving on to the next person. For about 2-3 minutes this church turns into a college meet and greet. I had shaken hands and turned to the people on the other side of me, when I noticed they were quite involved in introducing themselves and giving the "who am I " spiel. So I turned back to the set of people I had introduced myself to and they were carrying on a conversation about who they were and what brought them to DC, blah, blah, blah. I turned to the Help and remarked that, "this is different."

The music was good. Jazzy. There were a few traditional hymns and a few 20th/21st Century ones, with one "Jesus is my girlfriend" P&W song. The closing hymn "I'll fly away" was great and we clapped. It has been so long since I've clapped along in church, it was great. However, the Help started clapping. Unfortunately the Help claps like a white guy. I had to grab his hands and stop him. Later he confessed that he clasps like a white guy because he is a white guy. He also confessed that he wanted the balcony seat to see any balding heads.

iTunes U

Unfortunately work is slow and plodding and very uninspiring. It's just that I have a few things sitting on my desk that I've put off and ignored and there is no ignoring them. They must be done until something more interesting comes down the pike.
Anyway while that's going, I have almighty MP3 player and a few new sources of interesting lectures that almost make me miss college. Almost.
So far I am loving Seattle Pacific University. They have a bunch of old chapel lectures and speakers, as well class lectures. I've enjoyed the chapel speakers covering sex and cities (not those two subject together) from a Christian (with evangelistic notes) perspective. I've shared some the SPU and other lectures (from Reformed Theological Seminary) with the Help and sparked some discussion with him on related topics. The RTS lecture was on C.S. Lewis and the lecturer mentioned how in his old age he is comfortable with visiting the thoughts of Roman Catholic writers, but is secure in his Reformed outlook. The SPU lectures on sexuality, helped strengthen our resolve and appreciation for dialing way back the physical aspects of our relationship.
Unfortunately since the EcoTalk and Cato podcasts have had some dull (it happens) episodes I've had to get my libertarian economic ya yas somewhere else. The Mises Institute does have a lecture series that I've finished an enjoyed by Ralph Raico on the history of liberty. Now if only the Acton Institute would put a lecture series together of some of their stuff I'd be happy.
Goodness I'm spoiled.
Anyway, I keep looking for a class out there somewhere that covers Western historiography. I need a refresher. I've struggled with Open Univerity's German. I'll actually need to print out the related material, because mein Duetsch has gone to pot, and just listening isn't going to cut it.

Pink

IMG_0373.JPG
Originally uploaded by In Shaw

I have been informed my Mom, who is my manager that the front bedroom that is Rosa's has been painted pink.

Now, I own the blasted thing and I'm the last to know. I guess I could search in the lease to see if there is any language about painting the walls. Even then, what can I do? Not like I'm going to kick her out for paint. Besides there is no return to the projects, the powers that be are supposed to tear it down sometime in the future.

I'm enjoying the fact that the girls are enjoying a backyard and are playing in it and making neighborhood friends. That's almost worth the money, I've put into it. I do love hearing about how everyone is enjoying the space and what landscaping work Tito is doing. I do look forward to seeing them and the house next month. I want to see the yard. I want to see if anyone has fixed that hole. I want to see if my sister and her husband have let the kitchen go to pot. I want to see the front yard. I want to see the girls' room, even if one of them is the color of Pepto.

Valentine's day recap

For those who actually want to know.
I had told Jon that I was keeping my expectations low, as the Help admitted he didn't have a romantic bone in his body. Also the day before and day of I kept bugging, without response, the Help about what I should wear, because if we were going somewhere nice I wanted to dress the part. Day of, I find he hadn't reserved a table anywhere and just figured we'd go somewhere. *sigh. Because of the snow and the angry parking fights, I encouraged him to metro it over to my place.
He arrived a little late, 20 minutes past his ETA, which made me worried. When he did arrive he had in a plastic bag a pink teddy bear and a valentine's heart box. I eyed that with suspicion/ contempt. I am not a pink stuffed animal kind of girl. I was never a stuffed animal kind of girl. The box was a Russell Stover chocolate box, an inferior candy that I will eat if it's free and in the office and I don't feel like going out of the building for something better, like a Reeses Cup. And the box was falling apart.
I opened the box, no chocolate. Instead, the paper cups were filled with shallots and bubble gum. The kind of cheap .99 gum I love. I am addicted to bubble gum, especially the kind that gets hard quick and is nothing but sugar. The bear was just a container for brown rice. Yay. He knows me! He loves me!
Since my roommate was in and about and I really didn't have anything prepared we hopped on the metro to go back out to Maryland. We went to Tiffin, an Indian restaurant out in Langley Park that I used to go to when I worked and lived in Maryland. It wasn't full and we later stopped by the nearby former House of Spices (now some Halal market) to grab some black cardamon.
A good Valentines' Day.

Google made me cry

The ad is here, and like radio you develop the characters in your head, and the few sounds, the French gal's "hello" (or "halo?") and the cry of a baby just triggered something.

The South

I'm from the South.
And please don't tell me that Florida isn't the South. Maybe South Florida, isn't but the rest of Florida is.
Anyway, a pleasant catch-up with an old friend was almost ruined by poo-pooing the South. The old friend had re-located down south and was talking about how different it was. But what began to irritate me in that narrative was the insinuation that the South had some monopoly on racism. It doesn't, it just was manifested differently and it is more blatent and in your face. Northern racism is more subtle, harder to pin down and is slimer than an eel in that it allows the Northern racist to claim innocence. Martin Luther King had the darnest problem with Chicago, and Detroit, L.A., and Boston (think bussing in the 70s) aren't necessarily racial utopias where equality flows. And just because the area where one grew up didn't have any black, or Native American, or brown Latinos around to bother discriminating against, does not make one better than the Southerner who is being judged.
I also felt the need to speak out against the other form of white superiority, where the brown, native or whatever person is given the signal that he or she or his or her people are too incompetent to do anything and must be saved, rescued, placed in permanent dependence by the White man. Energy by the hero white is spent to focus on the goodness of the white and the pitiful plight of the brown, rather than truely enpowering the brown enough to help his/her ownself. Pity rather than commpassion.

Sermons and theologians

I believe Pat Robertson exists just to piss people off. I rarely listen to him, for about a zillion reasons. One being, his interpretation of the scriptures is way different from mine. Another, of the precious time on this planet I have, there are far more interesting and thoughtful ministers, pastors, theologians and religious writers than he, that I would rather spend time listening to and thinking about. The only time I encounter Robertson is when he has said, done, whatever to offend someone on the left. They drag him out as an example of Christianity, as if he were the American Pope of Protestants completely ignoring the diversity of American Christianity.
But anyway, in the past month or so, I've been listening to a new to me theologian and relistening to another theologian I quite enjoy. First is Ray Bakke a specialist on urban Christianity, who I find to be hard core on the idea of sacrifice, not of life (as in not dead) but lifestyle and comfort for the sake of bringing the Gospel to the inner city poor. The second is Os Guinness. I've very excited to find a new or old recording of his that I haven't heard before. He's got such a wonderful British (Irish) accent.
So throughout the day I will listen to a Lutheran sermon, a Catholic homily (maybe, depends on my mood), and an Eastern Orthodox writers' thoughts on Mary. It's mid-week so my listening options are fewer. Rest of the day is finance and only one of those guys mixes in a drop of Christianity. And almost none of them are fire and brimstoners. Sin, is not just something to make you feel bad but it something the separates us from the Father. We're all sinful and fall short of the glory. But good news, Jesus died for all mankind. That's the focus and not so much the sins of the secularists, or eternal damnation, or anything else we're accused obsessing about.

Pina Coladas and Presidental Speeches don't mix.

I made a drinking game of the State of the Union address. The drinking was to occur if he said the words, "let me be clear" or "fight" and when the Democrats gave a standing ovation. It was all the friggin standing oviations that did me in, and the fact he went past 10pm. I quit at about 10:10 as I had by then consumed a pina colada and a freshly squeezed greyhound. I have a two drink maximum.

Pray for Haiti

At church they took up a collection for Catholic Relief Services. I put in $2, not much, because I didn't bring the checkbook and I'd like to take it off on the taxes. Haiti is mainly Catholic and so it is fitting in with my philosophy of giving, which is if you were in Haiti before the quake, I'd probably give you money.
I gave to the Salvation Army, since it was the sad report from a Salvation Army dude that was one of the early reports out of the country. I sent $25 to them. I'll probably give more next week to Catholic Relief Services.
People are taking money everywhere for the relief effort. The coffee shop down the street, my hairdresser, everyone. I'm going to try to stick with the people who were in Haiti before the disaster so that when the spotlight leaves, I know they will still be there.

Avatar is no District 9

I like aliens.
For the most part I thought Avatar was okay. I knew the storyline was crap, stealing from 'Dances with Wolves' meets 'Pocohantas' meets a viewfinder. Storyline-wise District 9 kicked butt. It was original, it had mystery and was unpredictable. Oh and it was deep. I loved the comparisons between the Nigerian witchdoctor and the white scientists, neither knew what the F they were doing to the hero.
Unlike Avatar, the white guy becoming the alient wasn't the saviour. He was help. Chris, the alien trying to collect enough fuel to get back to the ship and get the heck out of there was the real hero. The South Afrikkaner white guy is just in the way, gets heroic and makes a nuisance of himself. No alien princesses to fall in love with. No superior white guy who will lead the Indians, opps I mean aliens to freedom.
Is Avatar racist? Racist in the way well meaning white folks who prop up a welfare state that undermines the Black family is racist. It is a different sort of racism that supports a white superiority, where the brown people are too stupid or childlike or whatever, and need the well meaning white leader to save them, typically from other white people.

Left & Right together

I keep a Wendell Berry poem at my desk with one particular line highlighted, "Be joyful, though you have considered all the facts." As far as I know Mr. Berry is on the Left politically, and a Christian.
I have also been obsessed with a neighbor's father, Raymond Bakke, from whose biography and lectures I have consumed started off Lutheran and became a Baptist minister. He also comes across as slightly politically liberal, in the demands of government money for the poor. But a lot of what he says about the urban church I agree with, for my own conservative reasons, such as programs and missions by the church should primarily be supported by the home church and not some outside entity.
There are hints that I do appriecate the political diversity of the Roman Catholic Church, though it is not all sunshine and roses. I find that the office of the Pope and the heiracrchy helpful in that the Church is not too apt to sway with the secular or other short term trends. So our sisters and brothers on the left do share communion with us and let their grievances be known, with out endangering the body of the Church. Unlike say, Protestant branches that break off and split, some easily, some with great and long pain and suffering, along secular party lines. There is a liberal strain of Catholic thought, pro-union and anti-loan (with calls to forgive national debit of 3rd world nations), that I don't agree with, but I see how a very liberal interpretation of the gospels can lead you that way.
Listening to some left leaning Christians, I do look for the centrality of Christ, and when finding him there, I'm set at ease and willing to hear the rest. Unfortnately, I've heard too many for whom the secular politics are a greater saviour. It is Christ who binds us, and as long as he is central left and right may come together.

PCA vs everyone else

Once again my beloved is getting circular again in worrying about the fact that I'm now catholic and he's presbyrterian, specifically PCA. He really focuses in on the Roman Catholic part, however I think we'd still have the same problem if I were still Episcopalian. I'm trying to be all Alfred Newmanish about it, "What me worry?" and all, and let him do all the fretting. The 'why' of all the different demonimations also confuses and flusters him. I, say no big deal. Mainly because I refuse to drive myself crazy about it. Hey, my parents are Baptist and just as much loved by G-d. He's bothered by the differences in our faith practices and the differences between the PCA and the PCUSA. I think his mom is PCUSA.
Protestant demonimations can break off into various little bits. I figure that's the nature of em. We had a talk about the PCA and how strict- orthodox- [insert preferred adjective here] it is.
I couldn't help to think of this joke:

I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump. I ran over and said: "Stop. Don't do it."
"Why shouldn't I?" he asked.
"Well, there's so much to live for!"
"Like what?"
"Are you religious?"
He said: "Yes."
I said: "Me too. Are you Christian or Buddhist?"
"Christian."
"Me too. Are you Catholic or Protestant?"
"Protestant."
"Me too. Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?"
"Baptist."
"Wow. Me too. Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?"
"Baptist Church of God."
"Me too. Are you original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?"
"Reformed Baptist Church of God."
"Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915?"
He said: "Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915."
I said: "Die, heretic scum," and pushed him off.

Cut the joke down a bit, and exchange Baptist Church of God for PCA and Baptist Church of the Lord for PCUSA, and have the PCUSA as the jumper and you can have a similar joke, in my eyes.
But my love's concerns are serious, and he needs answers. He has his fears and worries, which might not be so if he was raised actively in a church.

Being a responsible adult sucks

Okay. My cousin and I threw out an idea to go to NYC. Now I looked at hotel prices and figure we'll hop on the cheap Chinese bus. I'm willing to throw down a few hundred for a good hotel room. I've done too many cheap stays, hostels, primative accomodations in London and Prague to bother with cheap NYC stays.
Then there is the other issue. I'm supposed to be paying off the stupid loan that I took out for my sister's house (legally my house). Goal- pay off in one year.
Oh other goal- pay for Florida trip in March. Desire- Stay at the resort we stayed at last time, which I'm determined to get a two bedroom costing $500 for the stay and plane tickets. I expect others to feed me and feed me well.
So a NYC trip may cost $500, a FL trip that may cost $700 and $4K that still needs paying off. The adult says hold off the trips till the loan is paid and save up for a possible event that may hopefully come. The irresponsible adult sayz throw it all on the Mastercard and get tickets to Wicked.

Proverbs 31 1-8

1 The sayings of King Lemuel—an oracle [a] his mother taught him:

2 "O my son, O son of my womb, O son of my vows,

3 do not spend your strength on women, your vigor on those who ruin kings.

4 "It is not for kings, O Lemuel— not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer,

5 lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights.

6 Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish;

7 let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.

8 "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.

Typically when Proverbs 31 is mentioned there is the later part about a virtuous woman. I'll look at that later, but there is my favorite part before that, which I have highlighted.... Wooo Hooo!
Reading this in a meritocracy and democracy is hard. For one, no kings. Presidents, prime ministers, and random local politicians who make their jurisdictions like little fiefdoms yes. So, this is saying our leaders should be teetotalers? Sober, maybe, in the idea that the leaders shouldn't be oppressive. However, the drink of spirits isn't a problem it is the intoxicating drink of power that is oppressive.
Now for the completely non-Baptist part, "Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish," or "Give strong drink to the one who is perishing,
and wine to those in bitter distress." Now I do like and disagree with this. Like for the pro-drinking part, disagree because the ones in anguish need to rise up and fight. In the meritocracy the poor, the anguished need to be sober as well in order to move from their state of poverty. But the perishing.... yeah, get them the good bottle of booze.
Lastly, though this gets close to something I'd like to avoid writing about. Rights and oppression are seen in terms of poverty and destitution. I'm going to leave it at that.

Knowledge in dreams

I have searched for and I can't find any record of me possibly writing down a dream I had, which looking back was premonition. But I didn't write it down so it probably didn't happen. The 'dream' was that I was dating the Help, however at the time the Help was engaged to someone else. So the very thought of them not being together and me being some kind of home-wrecker would have been disturbing. However the dream me did not know the future me started dating about a year after the Help's breakup.
I noticed that in dreams I or whomever the first person is, has knowledge, skills and abilities at the dreamer doesn't have. Like a past me observing a future me would be absolutely amazed at my ability to type. Seriously, I was in HS typing class and was crap and couldn't imagine the day were I didn't look at the keyboard. Now, I look down every 5-10th word, just to make sure my fingers are in the right spot. But I guess that reflects the person as a dynamic being. But it isn't just head knowledge it is also muscle memory which ties into that idea of the body and soul being one.

I've become that woman

When I was a snarky teen, I and my friend Tracy made fun of those women in our differing churches, who overcome with emotion would sway and carry on in church. stand jump all that stuff associated with gettin caught up with the holy spirit. Well that crossed my mind in church as the cantor went into the second part of his negro spiritual melody. I can't really remember what the earlier part of the melody was, but the second part was "I don't feel no ways tired" (hear on YouTube if unfamiliar). And something began to well up inside of me. I wanted to sway, stand and just open myself up to the song and G-d's grace or whatever, I can't really explain it. Tears of joy did make it to the corners of my eyes and I did clap loudly at one point. The teens behind me, who hadn't really sat quiet snickered at my outburst.
So it has come full circle, I have been the teen, now I am that woman.

...and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others

I just said the following before chowing down on my lunch, which is sage chicken and brown rice. "Lord, please bless these gift for our use, and us to thy service and keep us ever mindful of the needs of others." It has just occurred to me that the last part just doesn't apply to the starving poor of the world. Because it is said prior to eating, those are the first people coming to mind.
Though the poor and hungry get first dibs, but there are others out there who are in need. Emotional need. The poor in spirit. Those in need of forgiveness. Those who need love. Those who need Jesus, but for some reason or another fail to see him in their lives.
Also if you don't bump up against the poor daily, who are the others? Our co-workers and neighbors are in need of charity. My definition of charity is loving the difficult to love. Some people need our patience. Particularly when you want to slap 'em. Some people need forgiveness, particularly when they are crabby and say mean things.

Entrepreneurial Me

For one who works for Big Brother, I mean Uncle Sam, I must acknowledge my entrepreneurial streak. It's there, but it doesn't play a obvious role. However in my dating of The Help (MH), I'm becoming more aware of it. Early on I told him that he was so occupying my thoughts I was thinking of charging him rent. Amazingly he didn't run screaming from me. Last night I told him of my middle school antics of where I was a gum dealer. Not only did I LOVE gum, I sold it to my classmates against school rules. I bought gumballs around the corner for about .03 or .05 cents then, resold them to classmates for about .10.
With my home I rent out my extra bedroom and sleep in the smallest room. Heck if the cellar wasn't so frickin cold and creepy and damp, I'd camp out down there and rent out my room. I see an empty bedroom and I see money that can be made.
I see my front yard and I see produce that can be bartered, and I do barter.
I walk down the street and sometimes I see money, literal, actual money.
Then there is the housing mojo, which I have discovered can be used for other people. With the house it is more of a discount than a money falling out of the sky thing. For the longest while I had a 3.75% mortgage. Fixed. Also got the house before the market went crazy. And my annual real estate taxes are crazy low. PB2G.
America, land of opportunity, if your actually looking for it.

London- 2004

2004LLX
Originally uploaded by In Shaw

I am just liking this old pix of The Help. He had more hair then....
Anyway, we traveled to London because the previous year I went to the London Lindy Exchange alone, and it was very follow heavy and said 'screw this I'm bringing my own damned lead.' And I did. We went to London, danced, walked around. He did his thing (got interviewed by another radio geek at the BBC), I did mine, and we met up for dinner to recount the day. It was a very enjoyable trip.

Craigslist once again damages my faith in humanity

I have a chair. I want to give it away. It is a nice chair but, I haven't used it much. It fails to roll on carpet and the rollers damage wood floors so it sat in the basement.
Now were it not for the friendly neighborhood drug dealers I would have put it on the sidewalk with a nice "FREE" sign. Drug dealers like chairs. Especially nice cushioned chairs with wood detailing and wheels. So the sign option was out. I couldn't figure out pictures and Freecycle so Craigslist.
I don't know why I keep doing this. Maybe because it is less worse than trying to find a roommate, but Craigslist puts me in contact with the flakes of the world. But before I go on I must admit I committed a Craigslist sin and I blame my contractor. I wanted insulation. I wanted my contractor to pick it up. My contractor wanted nothing to do with it and told the listee (as far as I know) it wasn't worth it. I felt bad because of all the back and forth.
Anyway, guy emails me, says his friend wants my chair, I call him, leave a message, his friend calls me. The friend and I settle on a something that diverges from my post because I actually put a pick up window. After work, before I go to bed, is the window. Didn't work for friend. So I agree to leave it outside for a time, cover it up, blah. Next morning chair still in yard. So I go to the next person who emailed me about the chair, offer it to him. I'll know later this evening if he's another no show. If he is, I'll contact the next person. I get a call from the no-show friend, who wanted to go into an explanation that pretty much insulted my neighborhood.
Jimmney Christmas, if you don't want to be wandering in the hood in the AM then don't set up a pick up time in the f*ing AM. I want to take my fellow humans at their word. If you say you want to buy my laurel bay for $45 and you live "round the corner" then you better fraking return my fraking phone call and pick up the plant with money in hand. Do not call me a week later offering $35. No. I'll keep my gods dang plant. (Guess who was up all night watching BSG?) And same goes for the heart pine wood. Either you want it or you don't. Don't jerk me around saying you're going to come, ask me to stick around the house for a window of time that resembles what I've got to deal with from the pest control dude. Somethings aren't worth the $10 I'm asking for.

Not Even Halloween Yet

...and I'm seeing mention of Christmas.
Seriously.
Will the people in charge of the civil, secular xmas please for the love of your unknown god zip it till Thanksgiving.

Body & Spirit

I pondered this idea with MH, hereafter to be referred to as "The Help" mainly because I've called him my driver and recently he's done some janitorial work around the house. I was thinking that the mind, spirit, soul whatever is too closely linked with the body and it's chemistry to be separate. You have a lobotomy, you change. You're not the same person.
I go back to sci-fi and how it leaves out the things that make us "US" that are related to hormones, brain chemistry, medication (or lack thereof), and low level pain from parts of the body that make us grumpy. In Freaky Friday, mom gets transferred into daughter. But what of the adolescent brain development and raging hormones? Or when the angry woman gets transferred into Capt. James T. Kirk and he gets all effeminate, why? Did a shot of estrogen come along for the ride? Then there is the brain software transferred into computers, robots, etc, which lack the signals (most of the time) to tell us that our big toe itches, french toast would hit the spot, it's that time of the month, we're tired, that music is loud, So-N-So is coming and she got on my last nerve, etc. In that way wouldn't the electrical transfer be something akin to transferring a Mac program to at PC or a Palm pilot?
Why does any of this matter? Well it does relate to the "resurrection of the dead" part in belief. We need this body to raise up, because so much of who we are, what temptations we struggle with (crosses to bear), is tied up in the physical form.

Tag 'em and bag 'em

When I was last in Florida I got in touch with the side of the family that distrusted the white man in the form of government that wants to take away your children, your right to protect yourself (from the angry mobs of white men with guns to take away your guns), and who wants to microchip you like some odd whale that needs to be tracked. This is in opposition to the side of the family that trusts government but believes in the white man's continual oppression of the black man. One side bureaucrats working for local and federal government, the other side self employed a-holes. Me, I work for the government but I side with the a-holes, because the government can take away your children, property, and your life.
Whilst gettin' my hair did by my cousin with the salon, in a shop he patched together and sold U of Miami clothing and worthless handbags, I got questioned about microchipping. Then this got into a conversation about walking around without ID. I try not to go to far without my ID. Only because I want to prove I have insurance and not be mistaken for a crackhead and have the EMS take their sweet time. Apparently it is the norm for the family to wander the street sans drivers license or wallet and if they are pulled over give their SS#. It seems the cops can just pull up their info and picture with that number and that's good enough. They bristle and the idea of being required to leave the house with ID.
The distrust on their part is the idea that the white man in the form of the government wants to track and control their movements and restrict their freedoms to be independent and free men. For if the government can tell you how to parent, where to live, what kind of job to have, and how to do that job, you are not free.

Get a 2nd opinion

In today's Washington Post:

She was dumped by a boyfriend who no longer wished to follow her around the world. She found herself heartbroken and sick and finally went to a doctor who said he had news -- at 39, she was with child. Impossible, she replied: Throughout her previous 17-year marriage she tried repeatedly to get pregnant, but was told it could never happen because of fibroids and various other conditions. Besides, her then-lover had told her he'd had a vasectomy, she says.
But she was pregnant. The doctors urged her to abort, she says, because she wouldn't be able to carry to term. Then, Graves says, she was told the child had Down syndrome.
But in 2004 she delivered a healthy baby girl -- "and she's perfect."

Graves being opera singer Denyce Graves. Her wedding pix & story is splashed all over the Style section.
Gad, that or those doctors should be held responsible, as in malpractice suit responsible, not criminal court responsible for misdianosing the child, known as Ella as having Downs. Being in one's late 30s and wanting kids being told to abort someone who you might actually want to have around is fightin words.
This made me think of something a doctor told my sister about Alex, that she was going to have a club foot. Well maybe the pre-natal pixs were too grainy (seriously how do you make anything out in those things?) but she had decent feet.
Then there are the small errors one hears, oh actually that wasn't a girl it's a boy repaint the room thing. Anyway this make me wonder about the level of accurracy in pre-natal diagnosis. There is some accurracy but how often do docs get it wrong or are they being over cautious?

Thoughts on Children, other people's

One of the hard things, among a thousand other things, of living in the city is seeing a scene that I've seen several times before and saddens me. About a week ago I heard a woman on the escalator cursing a blue streak. The words, "damned" "ass" and possibly MF were used. It was harsh language. I didn't see her until the escalator brought her halfway up and I noticed the object of her curses, impatience and annoyance was a child no more than 3 years old. She's not the first mother I've heard curse viciously with nasty blue language in the hood.
I've just finished reading another blog's comments where the majority's sentiment could be boiled down to some people shouldn't have children and there should be some screening process to keep any old body from being a parent. Well considering what criteria people would put up then I guess in that world I wouldn't have the most amazing nieces and nephew. Because seriously, what panel in their right mind would allow my sister to reproduce? She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer and one of the biological fathers of the kids was in prison. She isn't monied. She's very likely to remain low-income. But despite her parenting skills, she's got some great kids.
She isn't the only person with some influence in how the kids are raised. There is their grandma, their step-father, their uncle & aunt (in the case of the nephew), and a gaggle of intrusive other family members. We step in and sometimes take over where she fails. With the exception of my nephew's adoption my my uncle & aunt, there is nothing formal. None of what happened was predicted at the time of their arrival. Who knew she was going to get married? Who knew I was going to buy them a house? Who knew that the nephew would charm another set of relatives so much they would keep him? Who knew? Nobody, 'cept G-d. And maybe that's why we need to leave a lot to him and not some eugenics board.

Just be yourself

BL and I were noting this thing talking over glasses of prosecco about high school vs college. "Just be yourself." You have heard it a million times before and when you were younger you didn't believe it. But older, I'm so thankful that I do believe it and am begining to practice that.
Oh the time wasted trying to be someone else! Trying to impress people with a false front. And then there is the mental anguish of it all. Not that being yourself doen't have it's own problems when 'you' clash with someone else. But at least you're fighting and defending and sometimes sacrificing what is true.
I look forward to that day when in my older age when I don't give a rip what others think of me. Of course I'll have to reign myself in as there is the person I strive to be, for the sake of my own happiness and rightness with G-d, and the misirable wretch that I am. But that struggling person is the person I am.

It's a bug AND a feature

Chatting with the Mikey about some of my characteristics, one being stubborn independence. I proclaimed it was a bug and a feature. Depending on the situation it can be stupid or admirable. Not asking for help/blowing off offers of help, insisting on carrying my own luggage up the stairs, ignoring other's advice and doing my own thing, etc.
Yes, wonderful things happen when help is offered and received, however, I'm impatient and if I want something done (not exactly done right), I'll do it myself.

Meana

Meana- Short for "Mean Angry Baby". Well Meana isn't a baby or a toddler any more. She's in Pre-K and was willing to give me a hug when I was leaving. Which is a great improvement over last time.
Unlike her siblings she won't easily crack a smile. She isn't always looking for a hug and if she doesn't know you then **** you. According to her tattle-tale older sister, Meana has said some bad words.
Sitting out on the stoop on a Friday night where Meana lives, I observed the happenings of the subsized housing. People playing rated R and NC-17 music (seriously listen to the lyrics, F bombs a droppin'), cursing, drinking and carrying on while a gang of 4 year olds (led by Meana) run around at the edge of a parking lot. I asked her father if the place was like that normally (being a Friday night I expect activity), yup, this could be Wednesday too.
So it will be interesting to see if Meana finds another gang in her new local and if I think she'll still hold up a liquor store. The new location isn't low crime as I think the house experienced some vandalism. Most people I've expressed concern to about this suppose it was just bored teens or a disgruntled former occupant. Anyway, it is quiet over there with a big yard, so the girls should be able to entertain each other.

Healthcare

Somewhere in my house is a National Insurance Numbercard from when I worked in London in the 90s. I can't remember if I had any payroll taxes taken out by the British government. I was more concerned about Uncle Sam getting his cut, and even though I was making money overseas, Uncle Sam got his f'in cut. Anyway, it was one of several things I had to do to get legal. Register with the local police station, get an NHS card. I didn't use the system, though it was in London I got pneumonia, it was in the US where I got treated. No insurance. I saw the family doctor, he gave me some free meds, paid $50, that's it.
I wish I did save check stubs from that period to see.
With the whole debate about health going on, I do think there should be some reform, of what, is another matter. Being conservative I'm pretty much concerned about another entitlement program. I don't believe that only families making above $250K will be the only ones paying for it. I'm paying for Medicare now. Comes out of the paycheck every pay period. Who knows if the friggin baby boomers will have broken and bankrupted it by the time I age into it. Same thing with social security. They're edging up the retirement age. Good thing I like my job. I'm paying for that too. Damned hippies will have broken it when I get to that age. All the while, I'll be paying for their medical marijuana. Thank goodness for IRAs, TSPs, and 401ks. Face it, we weren't supposed to live that long. We were to drink and smoke ourselves to death. Eat rich foods, get fat, die of a heart attack. Now I get to live longer so I can work longer.
Pass the butter.

That's some Gaydar

On the season premier of Mad Men, Sal and our favorite man-whore, Don Draper, check into a Baltimore hotel. The man-whore, beds some flightly stewardess, not even trying to be good or faithful to his wife, as expected. Don is very disappointing, but interesting. Sal on the other hand goes to his room alone, complains to the desk that his rooms AC is on the fritz and has a bell hop come and fool around with the dial.
I was disappointed in Sal in Season 2, when it showed he got married to a woman. Why he had to drag some poor woman into is deep closet? Deep, deep closet. He could have stayed single like the Belle Joli rep who hit on him, but alas, no. Misery loves company.
Anyway, the bell hop 'fixes' the AC and we see a close up of Sal's money clip as he flips through 10s and 5s and 1s. My thoughts on this scene were A- RUN SAL YOU GONNA GET ROBBED, it's Baltimore! B- Wow that's some old looking money. C- Ah come on, he fixed your AC give the man a 5.... how much is a 5 in 1964 dollars? And then the bell hop gets into his personal space, and plants a big ole kiss on him. Dang, that is some gaydar.
I'm not going to describe what happens afterwards but let's say it gets far enough that Sal has to adjust his clothes when the fire alarm goes off and he's caught by Don, experienced man-whore, as he and the stewardess go down the fire escape.
Later on the flight back poor Sal looks like "OMG, OMG, you're gonna out me and ruin my life, I'm going to have to live in a box and never wear french cuffs again! Waaah" when Don leans over to talk about the London Fog account. The key phrase of that conversation is "limit your exposure." Advice from one man-whore to I guess another.
Is there anythign morally redeeming about the show? So far not really. But I don't watch it for the morals. I watch it for the deep rich flawed and broken characters, the bright shiny and modern 60s of Dick Van Dyke, all the drinking adn interesting paranting styles. 2 bonus points if your 8 year old can mix drinks.

Argh my parents

About 10 years ago my parents divorced after 30 years of marriage. Then about a year ago they started dating each other. They never solved the property issue of daddy's name on the house and the lot. So now daddy is parking his heavy equipment on the lot and sort of reclaiming "part" of the life he walked out on. I say part because I know what or who in the next town over is keeping those two from restarting. And it isn't entirely her fault, so it's hard to be mad at her. So I'm annoyed at him.
Anyway, dad took mom out to dinner and breakfast last week. I have no idea what the hell those two are up to. So when I think of them, I say I'm happy they are hanging out and forming some sort of relationship, but it ends with me exclaiming "argh!"

The big question

Well I asked a question.
I got the answer I expected.
And the answer I was not expecting.

A special place in Hell

People want Hell.
Not for themselves, or for really nice people who don't believe in a triune G-d. No. Hell is for the people they hate. People who do bad things. Corrupt officials, the guy who cuts you off and gets away with it, jackasses. Hell. People want Hell for those people. If there is a god, his grace would be denied to those wrong doers, or he'd judge them to Hell, or somehow they'd get there without a G-d.
I'm willing to entertain the idea, I heard from my liberal priest (back when going to St. Georges) supposed that G-d's grace is extended to all, and he can save all, and even the worst of us can be welcomed into Heaven by G-d's grace. However, I don't believe there is no one in Hell. I do believe in the human ability to be stubborn into eternity and would deny that he is Lord or reject his love and doom themselves to Hell. Or a Hell.
I have various views of Heaven and Hell. If Heaven is an eternal Mass, or worshipfest of G-d, that would be Hell to someone. The idea of hanging out with Jesus and singing his praises sounds alright to me (I worry about bad worship music, yes, even in Heaven, Praise and Worship Pop music could sneak in).

Mikey's Church

Wallace Pres.
Originally uploaded by In Shaw

Well they've move out of the public high school auditorium and finally have a working church.
The worship space is multifunctional it seems as you can move the chairs around. There are no pews.
The good points, it's a shiny building with a screaming baby room. Every church needs a screamy baby room. May many churches be blest with screamy babies.

St. Mattress of the Holy Comforter

I try to avoid conversations where I will wind up saying really, really, super nice and kind people are going to Hell. I really try because I have no desire to be rude. But as of late I've been having conversations that force me into choosing to lie or be rude. My general desire is to avoid the conversation in the first place.
Anyway, I've been listening to a Unitarian. I don't believe Buddha, the Hindu gods, and everyone else's god is the same as mine. But I won't waste energy arguing this when the other person is invested in the all religions are the same philosophy. I simply prefer not to argue.
I believe in the great I AM, who is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The great three for one deal. I do not believe he is the same as the other gods that other humans worship. If he were the same as others he should have not bothered commanding that he is a jealous god, and the Israelites should have no other gods before him. That would have been a good opportunity to mention how he revealed himself to other nations in different forms, but he didn't. So I'll take him at his word he's it, the one and only.
Also there is the matter of Jesus. If you want just a Jewish teacher, go with Hillel the Elder. Jesus was the Word made flesh, the Lamb of G-d, not just some teacher. I do not drag myself to church almost every week, for a watered down deity, a nice guy, and warm and fuzzy teacher. If that were the case I'd switch to St. Mattress of the Holy Comforter. It is a warm and inviting space, with no liturgy, no creeds, or doctrine. Just think pleasant thoughts and feel the warmth. Or throw off the Holy Comforter if it gets too hot. Unfortunately, there comes a time when the Church of the morning springs calls and you have to get up.
Seriously, I want to sleep in all weekend.

The order of things

G-d, Family, Country. In that order.
Country is my employer. It is also the local government. Its laws and mores. It also includes the community I live in.
Family. Mom. Dad. Sis. Sis's family. Half-Sis. Cousins. 2nd Cousins. Uncles. Aunts. Distant relatives. Members of my ethnic group, sometimes. Sometimes they'll get lumped in with country.
G-d. The trinity or the 3 for 1 special on deities. Church structure. Community of believers, but they sometimes get thrown in with country. Add also ideologies, that sometimes belong with country and faith, which rests with G-d.

Recently I was asked, well more accurately, told of something where the questioner expected some sort of outrage or affirmation of their own anger at that something. I sensed their disappointment that I did not share their anger at the incident. I understood the anger, but did not share it. Mainly because it countered my faith and the Church (ideology?) I have freely chosen to adopt.
We parted and I let the encounter sink in, and wept. In the past few days it appears that the disappointment from the other person has not severed our relationship, which I value. Rationally, being of diverse minds and valuing different things, such an event was bound to occur.

I *heart* dystopias

Logan's Run, Soylent Green, Mad Max, Gattaca, 1984, Equilibrium, Idiocracy, Children of Men, Fahrenheit 451 (though that one reminded me too much of Dr. Who), The Island, and Wall-E.
They do not make me fearful of the future because I find part of the philosophy behind them flawed. For one I believe in rebellion. As long as there are teenagers on the planet there will be rebellion, and thus someone undermining the system. Secondly, there is a streak of contrarianism that flows though many of my associates and friends, which makes me believe that whatever grand scheme a government, super-corporation, Baptist theocrats that manage not to break up after the first year (Handmaid's Tale), or other large power that takes over the whole world, will be challenged, undermined, or ignored. Brave New World had the Savages, Fahrenheit 451 had the folks out in the woods reciting books to no one in particular, Gattaca had the love children (people who were not genetically designed), and so on.
The environmental hellfire and brimstone tv or cinematic bits showing a hellish Waterworld (yes, I watched it), or NYC of Soylent Green have their own problems. Humans are wonderfully adaptable. Yeah, a whole bunch of us will die off with any great change. But there are Eskimos (can't spell the proper native name) in the Hell I call Alaska and northern Canada, Aboriginals in the Outback, Arabs in the desert, Isrealites in the desert, and other people in places that are too cold, too hot, and just plain crappy.

Well that's depressing

Yes, many of you who actually know me, know I have a small vein of distrust against the government, yeah the same one that writes my paycheck. There is also a small, but not as strong distrust of large corporations. Mainly because no matter how big, corporations legally can't shoot you. I would say they can't take away your property or rights, but with lawyers, anything is possible, except the shooting. Maybe.
So I was poking around on the blogosphere and saw this diagram of large food corporations and their relationship to organics. Then I picked up my box of Truvia, the natural no calorie funny tasting sweetner, and it's made by Cargill.
I like the idea of small businesses and small farms, or mid-sized farms, and my food coming from them. Maybe I'll come to the day where I buy my chicken from small producers. But I'm not there yet.

Sister well and the search begins

The funny thing I guess about housing the poor is, when the Feds threaten to kick em all out and the people have no where to go (really give people time to house hunt), the government finds a way. So for now, sis is safe. Because really, in the paper they were saying that all with no criminal record and good credit would be placed in alternative housing. We all know my sister's credit is crap, so in that scenario the family would be living under a bridge. Part of me knows that my sister may screw me with the whole house buying proposal, because of what stems from the bad credit. It's not like she doesn't have or can't get the money, it's just that she finds other things to spend the money on.
Anyway, the Realtor thinks if I buy a short sale I'd be getting a really good deal because the bank would be eating a lot of the value. Let's say for fun, I was looking at a house listed at $40K. The house might be valued at 85K. It's up to the bank to decide if they want to eat $45K. The bank may take 3-4 months to decide that. Knowing sis is in no rush to move, I can wait.
I also found it humorous what the agent calls, needing work. New carpet and updating. My goal, something better than the rat hole mom lives in. The same rat hole mom refuses to leave. Of relatives willing to leave rat holes, is my sister's family, so for her, I look for housing. Besides they are all young enough to do improvement work. Mom, not so much.
Hopefully, this week the relatives will be shown the inside of one house I can afford. As far as I'm concerned, if the roof doesn't leak, the electricity doesn't spark and the water runs clear good enough. Stoves, fridges, carpet and A/C units can be bought. So I await to hear from them.

Florida Property Cheap

I could fix my basement or I could buy property in Florida.
Florida is on sale.
So that's how I see it.
So I have it in my head that I'm going to buy investment property in my hometown. I saw something on-line cheap. Dirt cheap. I could write a check for it cheap. So I contacted a real estate agent and I've been getting emails.
I've been looking on-line at properties, calling Mom up and asking her to drive by them. The 1st cheap property has title issues and its in an historic district, so no.
Anyway my plans are to get in a decent financial situation and go down to Florida, look at a few properties, buy something and have my sister and her family move in and deal with maintenance and taxes while I let time and development increase the value of my investment.
Called up Mom today, and she informed me that the city is going to condemn my sister's apartment building. Rush job on the property search. And because of the rush, I can't just look for a fixer upper, buy it free and clear, and fix it whenever. Crap. I need to find something I can put my sister in now and I may need to carry a mortgage. Shyte.

Unplanned

As I remember Mom telling me of my conception, I came forth via a lack of action, or laziness. I have taken that theme of laziness to heart. But all in all I think I was unplanned. I was an unplanned pregnancy. Not unwanted, just, we didn't really plan, but you can and we're happy you're here kind of thing. That what I thought of when I couple sort of announced their coming child. It wasn't like they were trying to get pregnant, but it "just happened" and they are looking forward to becoming parents. Yay.
The small people, my nieces and nephew were definitely unplanned and their arrival worrisome. But now, I'm happy they are all here, regardless of who their guardians all happen to be. My sister was on birth control however, its proper administration and practice was not a top priority for her, add sex and tada, kids.
I think of all the other stuff that just happens, that isn't really planned. Some of the people I work with were not history majors, somehow they wound up working with history. We do plan for some stuff, to employed doing something is the general plan, to be a particular job title, working for a particular company or organization, not so much. In general I plan to work till I don't want to, some time after being retirement aged. I hope to continue to stay at the same place I am now, but you never know, I may get married and follow my husband, I may switch jobs due to some new interest or unforeseen thing, or health emergency may change those plans.
There is a lot I don't know. Thus, there is stuff I can't plan for. So I can only assume that all things will remain constant going in one direction, and I'll plan for that.

Everybody Dies

That will be my new children's book that will take off in Japan, in the tradition of great children's literature of Everybody Poops.
The book will have lots of illustration of people with XXs for eyes, and the text will go like this:
Shakespeare during his lifetime wrote several wonderful plays and sonnets, he died.
Abraham Lincoln was President of the United States and freed the slaves, he went to the theater and died.
Susan B. Anthony fought for women's rights and is on a dollar coin, she's dead.
Gandhi achieved independence for India with non-violence, and he died.
Albert Einstein was a brilliant scientist who gave us the Theory of Relativity and he died.
Mother Teresa was a nun who fed and cared for the poor, she died.
Mr. Thompson down the street was a kind man who liked puppies, he's dead too.
Which just goes to prove, everybody dies.

Different?

I'm asked if I feel any different now that I'm Catholic. Um, no. Except now I actually get up to accept the host, as opposed to keeping my butt firmly in the pew. Besides that it just feels like I just switched churches, something I've done before. And it is not like I've actually left the Church of the Really Really Blond People. I plan on still showing up there for one reason or another. I like the people, the music is good, the programming is excellent, why leave?
I've told a few people of the change. I ran into a fellow I knew from the CotRRBP on the Circulator. He mentioned how he no longer goes to the CotRRPB but instead now attends another Episcopal church up the street from CotRRBP. I then admitted that I now am Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering (I really need to make up a new name, Our Lady of Diversity? Immaculate Pew? The Church of the Holy Dashboard Charm?). I gave my cop out reason of being able to roll out of bed 15 minutes before Mass, as the charm of Our Lady. I pointed to the church and he mentioned how he knew of Fr. LEV.
I just thought of another charm of Our Lady, no dress code. Most of the time I do make an effort. But ya know there are times when you don't have time to change or anything to wear, or you're in the middle of something (and taking a break to go to Mass) and dirty jeans will have to do.

It's all about the Washingtons

US one dollar coin 2007 .
Originally uploaded by tenor_t

I'm thinking I could be more charitable, more giving, and enact my own monetary policy by giving away dollar coins to the homeless, beggars, crack-heads and con-men who show up at my door.
Here is the problem, the dollar coin is just not catching on. Just not. Susan B. Anthony was a flop. The Native American chick whose name I can't spell, her coin hasn't done jack. The presidential coins will probably fail too. But you know, I can help try to bring vitality to the dollar coin by putting it in the hands of people who will want to be rid of it.
However, I sense that I will spend too much time arguing that the coins are actual legal tender.

The problem with being an adult

....is that you listen to lyrics. I just downloaded Iron Man by Ozzy Osbourne. Great Jimminey Cristmas!

What not to do on a hot day

Engage in marathon cooking and decide not to use the AC.
Yesterday I made the following:
Lamb Stew
Rice- 2.5 weeks worth of lunches
Scallion Soup
mini key lime pies
Orange Ice Cream
Chicken Pate
Salmon in soy sauce

I am trying, and failing, to use up the stuff in my freezers. I want to turn the saved ingredients into lunchable food. I have a lot of frozen fruit which I've just been throwing into glasses of ice tea or lemonade in lieu of ice cubes. I thought I had a recipe calling for bread crumbs, nope. I was hoping to rid myself of the bread crumbs and crossant crumbs. There might be a soup recipe for that.....
Also what not to do... stand for hours in flip flops. My feet and legs were dog tired last night after trying to make tons of food. I did not make as I didn't have the energy or will to make heart-attack lamb stew (I feel my heart seize up when I take my first bite), make it up as I go along ginger lamb curry, and lets see what happens when you mix coconut milk-freeze dried lemongrass and chicken breast.

A tale of two bags

This morning on the sidewalk
Two plastic bags huddled together
The little black bag tried comforting the big white bag
But it was not to be comforted.
Distressed, the black bag floated away
leaving the white bag, with it's crumpled smiley face
in a grimace.

Mom not fired, yay

Well I'm happy. My mom did not lose her job. Totally not related to the economy, but more related to petty co-workers and the conditions of her job. Mommie works for a nursing home and when she first mentioned something was wrong she thought it was because of an incident. She was trying to take care of a 'crazy man' who had undone his restraints and when she turned her back he lunged after her. She ran and held the door shut. Fine, except there were a few other patients in the room with the 'crazy man'. Not so good. But she found out she was placed on probation because someone had accused her of abuse. Silly.
Worse mom did was yell at a patient. Yes, she'll desert you and leave you to fend for yourself, but she'd never lay a hand on you. Well an investigation was made and mommy was cleared.
I'm happy she still has a job, as it keeps her out of trouble.

Closer to freedom

I came close to canceling my one credit card.
I honestly and truly want to cut it up and close the account I've had since undergrad. I've had this stupid credit card for over 15 years and like the Highlander it is the only one.
I have debit cards and I tend to use those exclusively. I can even get points with them. A few more signed purchases and maybe I can get a $25 gift card.
Anyway, I called up the credit card company, and asked to have the credit limited lowered to a couple of thou, down from $14,000. I don't need a $14K credit limit. I don't want to owe that much. Sudhir (not his name) somewhere at a call center in India warned me that I couldn't get cash advances now. Good. I rarely used the cash advance thing anyway. Then he tried to get me to transfer my balances... what balances?
I'm one summer roommate away from fully funding an emergency fund and being able to comfortably call up the credit card company and telling Sudhir or Shanti to cancel my card forever, freeing me from one more account to keep track of.

Dried peas are a NO

I tried them and I hate them.
I was hoping to be able to have something shelf stable and wean myself off frozen peas and freeing up freezer space. Nope.
Black beans, I'm fine with. Navy beans, in a soup are good. Peas on their own, crap. Total and complete crap. Patoohey!

Forgiveness and History

History is dangerous. For lying in the past are unresolved grudges, slights, injustices, actions judged by today's standards as wrong and errors. These are not safely tucked away in the past, that once a day has passed all the bad and evil is locked in time and unable to harm the present. Nope. It gets resurrected like a zombie, and it's coming to get you.
I was thinking of the grudges and the idea that group A 'owes' group B something because the first group stole, hoodwinked, or wronged the second. And an apology or replacement in kind just wont cut it because went you add interest, subtract previous attempts at getting even, and factor in lost opportunities it never settles it. The only thing that settles the debt is forgiveness. Well that or wiping out one group.

Well got that over with

Yesterday I finally did what I didn't bother doing 18 years ago in Gainesville, FL at St. Augustines.
Today, I am enjoying a traditional Easter Sunday. I'm staying home. My aunt pestered me on why I stay home, what reasoning was behind it. Not a good one, I admitted, but I wasn't going to tell her what it was. But it is now a tradition of mine, something I've been doing for about 15 years (with a few exceptions), I see no reason to break tradition.

Why I need to clean the bathroom

Feminism is useless against the dust bunnies under my clawfoot tub.
Despite having two graduate degrees, a good job that uses those degrees and not being tied to a man, I have to lower myself to my knees to engage in the drudgery of cleaning the damned bathroom.... because no one else will.
I could pay a woman, and it is usually a woman, maybe two from the maid service, to do all the cleaning. However, maid service is about $80-$125 a week. According to friends, almost always couples, maids like to come once a week, if forced to be bi-monthly, they will charge you more. Also according to friends, they don't always clean everything. So if I want it done right and done cheap/free, I have to clean it.
Somewhere a mother is wrongly discouraging her daughter any of the home arts. This is a mistake. She should be teaching her children, regardless of gender, how to clean the oven, and correctly sorting the laundry. Because regardless how educated you become, your place needs cleaning and your food needs cooking, and the school doesn't issue domestic staff with those degrees.
When I was younger I didn't give much thought to the housecleaning. I had roommates, we shared the duties and did half assed jobs at cleaning whatever room we were assigned to. As I get older, and as most of my friends have either gotten a maid, assigned one spouse/partner to housekeeping, or decided that cleaning is overrated/ unnecessary/ pointless, I care about the dust bunnies. I see the dust bunnies messing up my nice floors and the renovation work.
Damned bunnies.

iTunes world

Okay I started this post to complain that iTunes didn't have the bad Euro-pop song I wanted to explain why my last 6 purchases have been nothing but non-English songs. But I did a quick check and low and behold there it was, Toy Box's The Sailor Song.
So let's look at my last 10 purchases.

10. History by Matthew West. This was recommended by iTunes with the purchase of the sacred harp song Christian Soldier, which I really like, and What a Friend We Have In Jesus, which I don't like so much.

9. Je veux te vior by Yelle. I this was recommended by iTunes when I purchased the English version of 8 & 7. It is a fun high energy French-pop-dance song.

8. I'm a Gummy Bear. I bought this in the Orlando Airport when I was curious about what was tops on the iTune dance chart.

7. Ich bin dein Gummibar (Marschmellow mix). Same song, remixed and in German.

6. Maahi Ve (Soundtrack). This came after watching the Bollywood film Kal Ho Naa Ho (Tomorrow may never come). It is from the high energy wedding dance scene where the guys rock the sandals in Hindi.

5. Mambo Italiano by Mauro Ottolini. Was in an italian music mood. I got a lot of French songs. why not. And I wanted a version not done by Dean Martin or Rosemary Clooney.

4. Bella Bella Signorina by Patrizio Buanne. see above.

3. Tu Vuo Fa' l'americano. I have 2 English versions of this, why not.

2. The Sailor Song (Extended version) by Toy Box. Bad, bad, morally questionable bubble euro-pop.

1. Caramelldansen by Caramell. The speeded up version of a dance song. More bad brain rotting Euro-pop. I can't tell if it is in German or English.

I think the best thing I can do for the people around me is listen to music with my headphones, because no one should have to listen to my iPhone go from traditional Christian to Euro-pop to modernist classical (Peter Glass) to sappy 80s power ballads and the like.

One woman mission

If there is anyone who ministers to whiny bloggers with the cold or flu (I got no clue as to what I have), fyi, I need help.

Got a quick call from Mom this morning. In passing she mention this woman she knows, and whose name is familiar to me, who dropped off a few loaves of bread for her and some hot dog buns for my sister. We talked about this. It was this woman's mission, give bread away. That's it, bread. Hot dog buns, hamburger buns, white bread, bready bread, bread and give it away. If you know enough people willing to take the charity, and you've got enough bread, you've got yourself a mission. What idea. Picking one little thing you can do, and going out into the world and doing it. And it is so small it doesn't require government aid, nor a large organization or even a church structure (though I suspect church ties do play a part).
A radio program I listen to occasionally does a 'giving hour' where callers call in and tell their tales of giving. The easy ones are leaving a huge tip to an IHOP waitress, like $100 tip. The trickier ones are anonymously leaving money to families they know are experiencing hardship, because there are so many things that can go wrong in the execution of the giving and the interpretation of the receiving.
Bread. Well if you know the people and you know they'll take the bread, that sounds like a pretty decent mission.

Vegan Friday Ruined by Unmarked Soup

I figured that I'd have more of the crappy hated vegan pumpkin soup. Let us note that the crappy pumpkin soup is crappy because it has a vegetable broth base and not a chicken stock base. Also, not too keen on pumpkin in large doses.
So today I had cream of wheat with soy milk, romaine lettuce salad and, I thought, crappy pumpkin soup. No. I'm enjoying butternut squash, apple and bacon soup. I thought I ate all that soup months ago. When I made the crappy pumpkin soup I didn't bother labeling it, because it's orange and soupy. What else in the freezer could be orange and soupy? Butternut. Who knew.
Though this violates the fast, it is an honest mistake. The soup was left over in the office fridge from yesterday because I was eating leftover vegetarian chili B. had made and thought that was punishment enough. B.'s chili wasn't bad, but not what I was yearning for that day. So until I ate it and discovered it didn't suck, I thought I was eating vegan soup.
Now for those whom I've pawned off my pumpkin soup on, please remember that either you're a neighbor's 1 year old and it doesn't matter how it tastes or I added chicken stock for you.

I wanna be selfish

'Cause selfish me would be going to Universal Studios. Instead we are more than likely going to go to some garden in Orlando, and walk around. Mom didn't want us spending money.
Stupid economy.
Last year we did Sea World. The year before that Disney. I figured we should hit the one big amusement park I have never been to this year. But noooooo.
Yes in theory I could rent my own car, and grab my niece and go off to the theme park of my choice, but I'm too cheap for that. Also I'd never hear the end of it.
Worst of it, I'm hanging out with Baptists who will be on their best behavior. Which means I'll get strange looks or someone is going to bring it to my attention should I order a 'spirited' drink.
Well at least the weather is supposed to be nice.

Fat Tuesday & Lent

Tonight I had a $50 meal as a celebration of Fat Tuesday. It was Bambi with a chestnut mashed potato thing and perfect green beans, and a good glass of red. For tomorrow I give up meat. And I will take on reading. A book that is. I will sit down with a book, and I will read it. This means I will be cutting back on the computer usage. And that is what I'm doing for Lent.

This Weekend

Friday I, well the whole block and several parts of the neighborhood lost power for about 24 hours. I was able to sneak in a quick shower in the morning, but as night descended I deserted the house and found shelter at DC Education Blog's family home. I stayed there for the night and the family showed me a hospitality that makes me very thankful to have them (even the nutty little chicklettes) in my life. After some good waffles and laughable antics by 3 year olds, I came back home.
While reading the Watchmen, I had the radio on and heard a wonderful acapella song, a lovely gospel song, "G-d is Good." (Youtube). As soon as the DJ announced the artist behind it I went to iTunes and bought it. I played it over and over and went I went to bed parts of the song kept bouncing around in my head. One of the reasons why it is a good song is that is like a hymn that calls for others to sing along, regardless of vocal talent. Another reason is that it builds. First she sings that 'he brought me out of darkness', then 'he saved my soul and brought me out of darkness', building on with other elements til at the end she sings:

I said that he healed my every sickness, with no money in my pocket, he still made a way out of no way, then he put food--- on my table, then he put shoes--- on my feet, so he could guide my every foot step, Jesus saved--- my soul, and then he brought me out of darkness.
G-d Is Good----.

Ash Wednesday is coming up. I think, depending on the hour, I'll be doing Christ Church as I'm not sure if my place is with Immaculate Conception as of yet. I admitted to Sam the caretaker at CC I was moving to another church when he noted that he doesn't see me around as much at CC. He asked pretty pointed questions, asking if the new church was Episcopalian. He probably was wondering if I was attending his church, which is 1 block from the house. No, I gave him my cop out reason, the same one I gave B & IT (yes, what do the atheistic/agnostic Jews care, but I keep them aware of my life)... 15 minutes after waking up I can be in a pew at IC. IT didn't think convenience was a valid excuse.

Now I'm cooking

This weekend I have been cooking. Dang-you Mexican Fruit Stand. Curses to a limited fridge and freezer space!
As of Monday 3:24 PM I have completed cooking and making the following:
Steamed Rockfish in some Chinese broth
Chicken Broth
Rice
Ziti in meat sauce
Goat and Parmesan Cheese Souffles
Banana Cake muffins
Chicken Curry
Chicken in Onion Gravy
Capon (leftover) in mushroom sauce
Capon (left over) in ginger sauce
Capon (leftover) cooked in a lemon, thyme and onion sauce/gravy
Garlicy Bulgar wheat
Leek and garlic soup &
Chicken noodle soup

When I am done resting at the computer I will cook a base for the lemongrass & mushroom tofu, sans tofu. 'Cause frying the tofu takes too much effort. I may roast the peppers and a few tomatoes for something, maybe soup when I find more containers.... I'm running out of containers. I've got to figure out what to do with some of the pears I bought, maybe throw them in a scone batch.
The problem with the Mexican Fruit stand.... dirt cheap food that will self destruct in 2-3 days if you don't cook or eat them.
In the next couple of days the rest of the bananas are going to go kablewy.

The economy is like a....

Supermodel who is coming down from a 10 year high on heroin, who had been overpaid and living in a Manhattan penthouse, who has just been dumped on a deserted street in Detroit with no money, no drugs and whose cell phone is about to die and whose last call is from her agency firing her for one too many diva moments, and for being over the hill.
The party is over and we're going through some nasty withdrawal symptoms.

Old Spice

I need to toss my spices. Some are old. Old enough to be in school old. However I bought some spices in bulk and they don't get used fast enough to justify buying more and tossing the big bag of.. chili powder. And really, I tasted the chili powder, it's still hot. The cloves are still clovevy. I did finally toss the baking powder after it ruined the yellow cake. Seems aged baking powder okay with chocolate cake. However with yellow cake, it turns it into a hard brick. So I bought a new can of powder. Now my scones are fluffy-ish. Scones should be like bricks. Oh well.

Wheat Scones with raisins

1 cup of whole wheat flour
1/2 cup of plain white flour
1 tablespoon of baking powder
1/4 teaspoon of salt
raisins- as many as you want
1 tablespoon or less of sugar
3 tablespoons (or so) of butter
1 egg
1/2 cup of milk

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
Mix all the flours, the powder, salt and sugar together. Maybe throw in the raisins. You know, throw in the raisins whenever you feel like it, or at least before your throw the mix in the oven. With a grater, grate in a little butter. Mix. Grate some more. The original recipe said until it looks like course meal. This is another good time to throw in the raisins.
In another bowl, mix the egg and milk. Then slowly mix in the milk mix into the flour mix. Add and stir, add some more and stir. Do this till you have a big moist glob and start wondering to yourself if you've just made a big glob of whole wheat glue, with raisins.
On cookie sheet with parchment paper or something to prevent sticking, place little balls of whole wheat raisin gloop. Throw in oven for 14 minutes. Let cool for 5 minutes. Serve hot with marmalade and butter and tea.

Unhappy Spinster- Civ III not working

According to the support page apparently when I upgraded my Quicken and OS software I destroyed my ability to play CIV in my mac. I wanna waste a full day trying to avoid nuclear war. And I can't waaaaaahhhhhh!

Nobody call me

It appears that AT&T has dropped my voicemail. It says I don't have a mailbox. Though it is supposed to be part of my plans package. I wonder if it has anything to do with the back and forth I've been doing with the SIM card between the iphone and the regular phone.

Sing

Watching a foreign TV show I lamented the fact that pub life in the UK is waning. There is no place to join with others and sing. Then I remembered church. The one place where you can join with others to sing.

The only black today

Today I was the only black at church. I would say I was the only minority but there is a family that I suspect is Latino, but I'm not sure. I became even more aware of my lone-ness when today's speaker veered a little to close to a magic negro or magic person of color imagery. It wasn't the first time this person put in words something that made me wonder what exactly goes on in the head of middle class white people. Seriously, this is not something I wonder about a lot.
Anyway. I wound up as the tech support for auntie so I didn't catch the 6pm Fun with Latin Mass at Our Lady of Perpetual Confusion. The thing about Our Lady is that it is very racially mixed. It's small, and I doubt there is a really conscious effort to get that mix, but there is a mix.

Chicken

J. brought much joy to my heart last night when he brought over a chicken calendar.
I like chickens.
I've currently got a song "Chicken Rhythm" on repeat. The lyrics go "Bocka, bock, bock, bock, bock, bock, bocka...."
I decided to go on a search for chicken songs.
I have 'A Chicken Ain't Nothing But A Bird'(two versions); 'Chicken Today, Feathers Tomorrow'; 'Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens'; 'I get the neck of the chicken' and 'Chicken Shack Boogie." Maybe next I'll add songs where chicken is mentioned, like "Everybody Eats When They Come To My House."

Yet the chicken love is limited. If any chicken paperweights come my way they'll immediately go into the Goodwill bag.

Sweet tooth

Somewhere in my freezer are some wonderful cupcakes BL made over the holiday weekend.
As well are the mini chocolate truffle cakes and mini key lime pies. None of those lovely handmade treats are anywhere near my desk as I finish off lunch.
I do have granola, but I'm not wanting granola and the sweetened fruit that they contain. I want seriously bad for you, send you into diabetic shock, sweets from my freezer.
-wimper-
I'll fish a banana chip and some pineapple out of the granola. That should hold me over.

The importantance of labels

I'm trying to clear out my freezer. As a way to save money I'm trying to use up what I have, and discover what the heck is on the back shelf. I've already thrown out chicken and a really thick but brown lamb chop.
I have found little bits of meat and bone and fat I know I set aside for stock. Problem is I didn't label these random bits and have no f-ing clue what animal they came from. I can only eliminate goat. Maybe after defrosting, I can discern if it is chicken. I have bought ham hocks to flavor peas and beans. So there is a chance something could be pork. Huge chance something maybe lamb, and a possible chance of beef.
Today as part of my soup making I'm going to do something with chicken dated 6/23. No year. I'll smell it as I defrost it in the microwave and then I'll boil it. If the smell is off it is going into the trash. If I die anytime soon, you'll know why.

Random recipies- Creamy mushroom

The thing I love about cooking is that if you make certain things long enough you can start making up stuff. Today was mushroom soup. Yesterday as pumpkin soup. Not a big fan of pumpkin. Don't ask me why I cooked it.

Anyway, loosely, very loosely based on a Martha Stewart recipe-

Take butter- heat
Saute chopped onion in butter
Slowly add dustings of flour
Add a little veggie stock to keep moist as you dust with flour
Keep adding stock and flour dust till you get a nice thick sauce.
Add thyme
Add 2 sprigs of parsley
Add bay leaf
Add more thyme
In the non-stick IKEA pan heat butter
Add chopped mushrooms
Add salt and a wee bit of lemon juice
Then dump mushrooms in the floury - stocky stuff
Repeat the cooking of the mushrooms until you've cooked up a whole package worth of mushrooms
Add salt to taste
Add brandy to taste
Add sherry to taste
Add a little bit more sherry
Slowly add half-and-half to mix whilst slowly stirring.
Take off heat.
Eat/ Put in containers to freeze.

What we need in an emergency is booze

Reading some blogs on emergency food preparation and storage. I went to a website with a food storage planner. I have a goal of using my basement as place for food storage and I hope one beautiful day to have 4-6 months of supplies. I already have what seems to be a year's supply of TP (thank you Costco). I just bought a 20 lb bag of brown rice, that should last me 4-5 months.
Reading the food storage planner they say, store what you use. So I began listing the items I would store. First item that came to mind. White wine. Second item. Red wine. These were followed (in order) by port and other wines, vodka, water, rice, tomatoes, oil, sweeteners (sugar, fake sugar, maple syrup, and honey), flour, salt, tea, nuts, dried fruit, grains, pasta, beans, onions, and dried mushrooms. Vodka, I must say has other uses besides drinking. It makes a lovey cleaning agent. I have cheap wino vodka, and that stuff is only good for cleaning things with, certainly not drinking. And I do cook with wine and I'm constantly running out of it.
There are no spices on my list because I have some pretty old spices so it is pointless to buy them in bulk. I can never seem to keep garlic. Another challenge is shelf stable food. I'm gonna have to learn canning.

Choices

We all make choices, and those choices have consequences.

I chose to go to college, despite having no money.
I chose to drop the whole business school idea and become a liberal arts student. Okay that was mainly due to the fact I suck at math. But I chose not to struggle with the math.
I chose to go to grad school. Twice.
I chose not to go into the 'exciting' career of records management. I could do it, and it is more money. However, I hate doing RM for any length of time and mentally, it's just not worth it to me.
I chose to stay with the government and make it a priority with my job search. I chose to leave the government with the goal of returning. I came back to Uncle Sam.
I chose to buy a house in a 'transitional' neighborhood.
I chose to buy an old house.
I chose to get a humongous 2nd mortgage.
I chose the bedroom the size of a closet.
I chose to have roommates.
I chose to live without a car.
I chose to live without cable.
I chose to impose my own dress code at work
I chose today to break the code due to cold weather.
I chose to make Christmas gifts
I chose to learn how to make lemoncello
I chose to go to the gym at least once a week.

Gifts that I want that I know I won't get

It is Christmas time according to the semi-secular leaning calendar and thus gift giving time. Once again I'm not spending too much time giving thought to what I might get. My biggest hope is 'not crap that I can't get rid of'. So here is some thought to what I'd like, but know I'm not going to get.
In the G-d shines upon me, miracles do happen department:
Peace in the Middle East
1 trophy husband with job
Return of trophy boyfriend minus my desire to kill him
Agency branch opens up in Florida ( I don't care where, Jacksonville, Miami, it's all good) with position for me (run Jeb run)
Loss of 20 lbs that doesn't involve near fatal illness or loss of limbs

Under eh, it could happen:
A button up sweater with pockets
Same sweater in cashmere
Tickets to Shakespeare Co or Studio Theater
Mike Henry answers his phone and we talk long time
Dinner with someone at Corduroy or 1905 or 1789 or Equinox
iTouch
A warm winter
A lovely roommate who is hardly home who rents for 6 months, seriously can I advertise for a workaholic lesbian with a life elsewhere?
iTunes gift cards
A full day with Biggie Al where he doesn't do that stupid Indian accent.
A complete day spent with friends
Certain people retire
Jelly babies
I lose 7 lbs after a touch of the flu
A date with a guy who knows to open doors

Mass but harder

Second time at Our Lady of Perpetual Suffering (aka Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church)'s Latin Mass. I don't think I've cursed so much in my head (not like I'm actually going to let the words escape) as I do with the Latin Mass. The Latin Mass has some things going for it over the Saturday Mass (29 minutes or less or your next mass is free). For one, there are songs I can sing. Saturday, no singing. Sunday there is a sheet but no music, and I need to see the music even though I am semi-musically illiterate. Unfortunately tonight someone decided that one of the hymns should be sung in Latin.
Okay, Latin. I took Latin in college as a mistake. That was the semester I learned you should add classes before dropping them,, during Add/Drop. I got a C. I made up shyte and the instructor didn't care because she couldn't get tenure so what was the point of trying. Once I get comfortable with Latin, I'm sure I will hear it as a beautiful language. But for the time being, I'm thinking Iuesus f* what the f* was that, where are we now? Imagine that while I'm flipping through the missal trying to match up the rhythm of what Father is saying with the English portion of the page to find the Latin side of the page and match up whatever the f he's saying with the funky Latin pronunciation that's screwing me up.
As I wrote, this was my second Latin Mass. I'm sure after a dozen Latin masses Il have it down and will be able to sing the Nicene creed without resorting to mumbling 'whatever.'

For added linguistic fun I've been listening to the French Canadian band Mes Aïeux (guess whose blog I've been reading) but the remix of Dégénérations here and here.
Regular with English Subtitles

So cold.. So So cold

The thermostat says 70, but I'm wearing a scarf and I'm still so cold. I think I need to move around. Playing CIV for 6 hours is probably to blame.

Big Tent of Conservatism

Had a lovely chat with Norma Bombay about various topics, one being the Republican Party. She suggested the party splitting, I disagreed. Yes, you have your Pentacostal bible thumpers on one side and your green shade fiscal conservatives on the other, but the two aren't divorcing anytime soon. Fighting, yes, spliting, no.
For one, whoever leaves gets turned into a meaningless 3rd party. Oh wait, there is a meaningless 3rd party. No need to create one. Sadly, that party's candidates won ziltch in DC, but did gain/keep some posts in Central and South Florida. Maybe I should be more fiscally supportive of the DC Libertarians....
Also it's not like the bible thumpers don't care about fiscally responsible government, lower taxes and the like. They do. As well as others between the thumpers and the green shades.

The Good Life

On the crunchy end of things, from crunchy conservative book to crunchy orthodox Jew blogs, both have got me thinking of the "Good Life", that is eco-friendly, non-materialist, and genuinely rich. And so an image, a flicker of a scene pops in. I did write a short story, but deleted it as it suffered from the thing that all my short stories suffer, loaded details.

The image is Poppa is king of his castle, and Momma is the queen, and there are children squealing in delight in Poppa's arms. Friends drop by to visit and the hostess does her best to make the guests feel welcomed. The food is locally grown, either backyard local, down the street at the community garden local, suburban farm local and a few states over local. There are non-local items, like wine, and items that in their nature store well.
In this image of the good life relationships matter more than things. The long term, deep relationships are cultivated and the institutions or functions that support these relationships, be they friendships, familial ties, neighbors, co-workers, lovers or what -have you, are valued.
Quality is valued over quantity.
Charity to all is encourgaed.
Rreading dead wood pulp is preferred over bits & bytes.
And napping is not just for pre-preschoolers.
Speaking of napping.....

Who is raising your child?

When you have the State help raise your child, don't be surprised when it asks for custody.

One step closer to the happy place

That 2nd floor reading room with the comfy couches? I went into it. The guys at the desk said I could. Now if I'm allowed to bring in my own reading material (food and drinks are verboten), give me 1/2 of a lunch break and I am so in heaven. I sat on the couch, it is comfy. It just needs a foot rest.
Yes, my main wish is to have a loving husband and children. But since I ain't getting that give me a comfy couch in a big room, a good book and a dynamite lunch. Maybe followed with a nap. Yup, that's living.

Another Happy Place

I've been meaning to add this.
Well I have the main happy place being the 2nd floor reading room with wait service.
Now add the bar of the 701 Restaurant during lunch hour reading something good over mussels and Darjeeling. The only thing that I would change abut that moment is I'd give myself a better wardrobe and accessories. Last week I popped in because I was confused about a lunch meeting with Mr. Young Charming and Handsome, aka my ex-roommate. So I didn't have my lunch with me. I didn't feel like standing in line at Teaism and nothing at D'Aqua grabbed my eye. Unfortunately the $15 wine & lunch at 701 has gone missing. I can't have wine at lunch anyway, it makes me sleepy.
I had carted the Thomas Merton Reader with me, and so far the book had been a chore to read. However, halfway though my mussels I hit a chapter that I connected with and truly enjoyed. Also at that moment, the tea, which was in the first teapot that never spilled on me, was at it's most excellent. The splenda had been hanging at the bottom of the cup, mated with the lemon and it was an excellent cuppa.
Yes, my happy places have reading and dining.

Birth control not it

After a gathering I walked out with someone who was annoyed by something and remarked that people needed more birth control. He was on an anti-child tiff. It happens. I get annoyed with other people's children, but I haven't lately wished for their non-creation. I countered, but honestly not looking for a fight, that it is better to grow your citizenry domestically lest you have to import them.
But anyway, even if you gave birth control away for free, introduced it to middle schoolers you'll still have people having kids, and I'm sorry you'll still need to pay taxes for schools. People in general and poor people are going to have kids. It's a part of life. The sex ed may curb the under aged pregnancy, but teens aren't your only broke people having kids. Looking at the CDC's data sheet on pregnancies, and remembering the book "Promises I Can Keep" about low-income unwed mothers, the bulk of births seem to come from ages 18 and up. I'm avoiding the "teenage" label because 18 and 19 year olds are teens, teens who can vote and sign legal contracts. Of the unwed teenage pregnancies, roughly 2/3rds of them are 18 and 19. Of all the unwed pregnancies, the 20-24 years olds have everyone beat. The 25-29 year olds are kind of equal with the under 20s. The smallest unwed group is the under 15 crowd, with 6 thousand births, trailing behind the next lowest group 40-54 year old women at over 21 thousand unwed births. Pregnant 15 years olds bad, pregnant 40somethings.... so what's the story there?
So your problem, if unwed pregnancies are a problem, I'm going to leave that judgment aside for the mo, ya got to get after the 20-24 yr old women. You figure at that age they are perfectly aware of birth control and how babies come into the world. My sister got pregnant in her twenties, I believe she was aware of birth control. It's that regularly taking it everyday part of the birth control that screws that up. And condoms.... ha. There is something that happens in a relationship where the condom is a symbol of something, dirtiness, distrust, prostitution, and the like. In the book Tally's Corner, about street corner men in the DC Shaw neighborhood, men would not wear a condom with a girl/woman they considered 'nice'. There is also another thing that I seem to see between the lines of these studies involving poor women and childbirth, despite being a bad marriage candidate the women seem to want some lasting connection with the guy and being his baby-momma makes that connection permanent.
What exactly can you tell a 20 or 24 year old woman not to get pregnant if she's unmarried? Well, besides arguing moral reasons that sex should be saved for marriage or stuff like that. Staying school? At 20 high school should be in the past and it would only appeal to those in college already, but then what percentage of women 20-24 are in college. Really at 20 if you're not already in college what is your motivation to start now?
In Promises I Can Keep, it was having the kid that provided the motivation to go to school or get a job or better job. I can see that with Sis. Okay she was not completely responsible after the first, or third kid, but she became more responsible with the kids than prior to their being.

Don't Loan Money to My Sister

I'm still opposed to the bailout/rescue whatever because it still wants to keep credit available to people like my sister. I love my sister, but she's broke, and to loan her money will only make her broker.
Giving my sister more credit, so she can have credit debit does not make her rich. My sister has bad credit. Credit so bad I had one of her collectors call my house. I was so pissed at this I called mom.
But I know, even with sis' bad, bad credit, someone wants to loan her money. And when she fails to pay them, they get what they deserve, nothing and a bunch of unanswered phone calls. And we're in this mess because banks and others kept lending money to people like my sister.

On a side note my roommate said that it was a small but local minority against the package and he didn't know anyone against it. I'm against it. But I didn't call my Rep. because I have no vote in Congress. But you know, I think we all hang out in our own little echo chambers, sticking with like minded people, drowning out or silencing opposing views. This is worrisome for information gathering. Who's going to win the election Who knows? People who dislike Obama for non-socially accepted reasons, won't say. They'll say what they think you want to hear and do their own thing.