Well, I'm off work in about 45 minutes, so I'll wish you, my friends, a good Sunday.

I was tired last night, to be sure, but no naps for me, because of noisy neighbours. So, I wrote a chapter in my Dr Who story, with the working title of "Rain of Terror." I'm enjoying it. The Doctor/Donna combination is really fun to write, because unlike his teenage companions, I can truly relate to the adult companion, Donna--so it's naturally easier to write her character, than Rose or Martha.

Got another PM going on about the sexual attraction some girl has for Mr. Tennant. I don't know. I don't see him like that. He's just...a guy. I really don't even think of him as a celebrity...famous, yes, but...really, he just reminds me of a shoe salesman or some guy I'd share a ride in the lift, with. Well, until he starts acting, of course. Gosh, he thrills me to my toes, when he does his stuff. He's got one heck of a presence--even his professional voice is really right on the mark.

But, I don't know why I keep getting these PM's from fan-girls..I find it rather strange. Am I writing something on here, that's being mis-interpereted? Haven't a clue.

Anyway, feeling a bit iffy, suddenly, had a dizzy spell in the ladies. Guess I'll have to book on home at 3, make sure I have lunch right away. Have to go to Target in the mall, to get a phone card tonght. I'd go tomorrow, but then I'd have to spend 12 dollars on a cab, whereas the bus runs to the mall on Saturdays (no bus on Sundays here until the holiday season in two weeks' time). Anyhow, have a lovely weekend all, and I'll try to do the same. Cheers. Nancy G.

"Nose pickings? I thought you said this was a jelly baby, Donna! Umm--tasty."

As some of you know, it's been a rough two-plus years.

Essentially, my life stopped. Stopped cold. Less than five years ago, the world was, maybe not my oyster, but at least my clam, ha-ha.

After crapping out of college at 19, and going for two decades of struggling with temping, dead-end office jobs and low-wage hard labour, life on the dole, and a couple of flirtations with genuine poverty--even a month of being literally homeless, at the tender age of 39, I finally realized (albeit a bit naively) that the only one keeping me back, was me.

So, it's a long story, but yeah, I enrolled in the local 2-year college to get my associate's degree--and perhaps go on to a second school for my 4-year BA.

And, in my early 40's, everything suddenly came up roses. I was doing things I'd dreamed of, but never realized that i could actually do (not always well, mind, but i threw myself into it, anyway).

I went out of the country for the fist time, acted for the first time, got my first straight A's ever and became a Phi Theta Kappa (hounour society), won an academic award and a small scholarship, bought my first home (a caravan), my first new car...felt like I could take on the world, I did.

Then, late in 2005, for various reasons--most of them not anything I had much, if any, control over-- it all unraveled. And, eventually, little by little, over the last couple of years, I lost just about everything--including most of my immediate family. There was nothing left, except for three of my seven cats, and about a quarter of my possessions.

By the autumn of 'o6, I was totally alone and overwhelmed and ready to just throw in the towel. Then, I found that I did have friends--lovely friends, who've stayed by me through the horrors and the brief bouts of good news, and the few blessed times when nothing bad was happening/about to happen.

Never met these friends, perhaps never will. But, they keep me honest, they give me an obligation, I suppose to return the favour by not giving up--which sometimes I so desperately want to do. Sometimes, the pain, the hardship, dealing with that on your own, can get so bad, you just want it to stop, to go away and give you some peace.

It's hard to care about yourself, when you no longer have anyone there in your life, whom cares about you. So, these friends who've come into my life in the last year and a half or so, have made a difference for me, let me tell you.

Still, last year I reached the point where I could no longer be in denial: I'd lost more than family, pets and possessions. I'd lost my confidence, my faith, my hope and my dreams. My beliefs were shattered to their very foundations. I'd forever lost my ties to the past, and my chances for a better future. I'd landed in the life I'd tried 30 years to avoid...and I was stuck there, forever.

My life came to a shattering halt, and the more it got harder to supprort myself on the most minimal level, to keep the barest of human basics (needs), the more I questioned whether my life was worth anything, the smaller I felt myself shrinking, down and down, until I felt somedays, like I was becoming totally invisible.

So, my unstable life halted yes, but now that I've a small measure of stability back, I can see that I need to move forward--not into a better future, I really have given up on that...I've given up the notion that I will lead a "normal" life.

No, I am moving forward in baby steps--just trying to take care of myself, a little bit at a time, maybe address some health and other issues, over the course of the next year, that have long been neglected.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to put my life back together. That remains to be seen, but...I'm finally in a place where I can start...sort of.

Hi blog pals,

It's Saturday and I'm busy, telemarketing away, here.

Oh, it's gorgeous out there--one nice thing about my new desk, is that I can see outside, towards downtown..the bank, the traffic, new-green trees, the Episcopal (America's version of Anglican) church, the mountains along the Hudson River. A very nice day, indeed.

Got a note from the health centre in the post, yesterday. Told me my blood sugar was way up, and that I needed to come in for some new meds. Of course, I'm sitting here drinking coffee and eating a vanilla biscuit.

Can't go to the doctor's until after the 3rd May, due to budget contraints. The bill I HAVE to pay before the end of the month, is bigger than my entire week's salary, so I can only pay it in installments--half my pay cheque this week, half my pay cheque next week--which leaves me nothing for the Doctor's, which typically costs 30 to 50 dollars per visit.

Telemarketing is interesting, sometimes. I had to speak to a "Mr. Farht," the other day--thankfully he wasn't in. I would have corpsed all over the place, if I had to say that in my "working voice," out loud.

We get these recordings, from the phone company?

Yeah, there's two different one's:

A very nice, apologetic, "We're sorry, the number you reached is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again." Translation: (I'm ever so sorry that I had to tell you you dialed wrong, please have a nice day.)

Then, there's this snooty lady's recording, "The number you have reached is NOT in service! THIS, is a recording." Translation: (How DARE you dial wrong! DON'T do it again! Hurrumph!)

I guess which recording you get all depends on what phone company you use.

"Nahhh--I'm not drunk. I'm Scottish, ya'know we never drink!"

Well, here I am, at work, today.

Last night I bit the bullet and went to the laundromat. On the way home, in the cab, we went past the local tattoo parlor. I looked in the window as we went by, and noted the line of guys waiting their turn to get...well, whatever these guys get to make them think they're actually manly. (Ha! As if.)

Anyway, looking at the fat, slovenly dressed customers in there, I made a mental note to never-ever-ever look for my next date in a tattoo palor. In fact, I made a note never to look inside a tattoo palor, ever again.

Anyway, carried my washing upstairs last night--only two short flights, no big deal, normally...but wow, my heart beating out quite a rythym, last night, ha-ha. Need to get back into shape, methinks.

Well, after work I'm off the big Price Chopper super centre to do my week's shopping, then it's home to...well, probably to nap...for some reason I'm rather tired again, today. Need to eat more spinach, maybe.

"Okay people, who wants to play Frisbee with my award?"

Did I just wax romantic in that last blog entry?

My God, now I know I'm getting on in years.

It's not that I don't want to ever date, mind you. I'd love to date, but...God just had other plans for me, I guess. There will never be a partner for me, in this life, and truly, I have indeed accepted that. In the real world, sometimes for some of us, we are just alone and that's the end of it.

There's no Romeo for this old maid--heck, there's not even a Tom or David or Johnny.

I can't really blame the guys. I'm not exactly easy to look at, and, I really don't have much experience with dating...well, who wants to date a 47 year old that's never even been kissed and can't be...intimate? No guy I know of.

I probably don't help things any, I suppose. I've never been a cuddling and kissing type--tho' I do like a nice hug, ha-ha.

Truth is, I hate being nice to guys. Well, let me re-phrase that, I like being friends with guys...except that somehow they get it all backwards and mistake my simply being nice, as me coming on to them. No. I'm just being polite and friendly...but, when your ugly and awkward...you can't just be friendly to a man, it seems.

Plus, most nice guys don't look once at women like me, let alone twice.

But, that's okay. No, really. I will never be one of these women who has to have her man around her, all the time, or needs constant attention. I can go days, weeks, months even, without hearing from a close friend or family member, and I'm totally okay with it. If someone is too busy to hang with me...fine. I totally get that other people have their own lives to live. In fact, I'm often taken aback when one of my friends makes time to call me, or write me, or send me something. I have become totally used to being on my own--or I guess I should say, un-used to, getting attention.

I've never had a relationship...not even a long-distance one, and I probably never will.

I'm a bit like a desert plant, I suppose. One of those plants you can just put on the windowsill, and more or less forget about, until it needs watering once every few weeks. And, that's okay. That's me, that's my life. It's who I am.

But...sometimes I know that I'm missing something. And yeah, it saddens me--but, then I just shrug it off and forget about it, get on with my life, same old me.

Hi all,

Well, it's Thursday, hoo-ray. Yeah, whatever. They made us move our desks at work today--a process which can take a half-hour, while you find an empty space elsewhere. I had to disinfect this desk--the night kids..ugh, sticky, stained nasty desktops do not make you want to sit at them. Teenagers don't just not clean their room's, they also make a mess in the workplace. Anyway, got moved, with the loss of some paperwork, and then..the system went down for 20 minutes. Ah well.

Anyway, it was a lovely night, last night. A soft spring breeze, heralding in some rain--so far only a few sprinkles, the moon lurking behind some thin clouds. Not too warm, but not at all chilly. A romantic breezy night, a wind that would make lovers want to waltz under the moon, and Romeo woo Juliet on her balcony.

And me, I spent the night looking at the cars and people going by, down below, watching the wind playing with the petals of the colourful pansies, and the bats wheeling in the pale skies. Sitting petting Flame and listening to Kylie and wishing for the first time in a long while, that I too, had someone wooing me below my balcony.

Well, while I am presently unable to view the rest (episodes 2-13) of Series 4, I'm making up my own stories. Got about half a dozen stories, either finished or works in progress, under my belt, since January.

My current story features the Doctor and Donna in a rainy Cardiff--oh, I know that's not a very realistic scenario, is it? I bet it hardly ever rains in Cardiff.

Anyway, they encounter slimy worm-like creatures, snake people and a Dalek, while of course, trying to save the entire world.

Just your usual Dr Who story. Meh, I'm no professional writer, but it does give me something to look forward to, those long days/nights alone. Makes my wonky brain get some excersise, if nothing else.

Someone left a blog comment about a tee shirt that I sent a certain person as a birthday gift.

The tee-shirt was from a collection that was out in the chain department stores this past spring. The theme of the collection is "Music Sets You Free."

The collection comes in browns, and blues and greens--nature colours. It features such motifs as trees growing guitars, guitars and peace symbols, and birds in flight carrying musical equipment. I have the guitar-tree and birds in flight one's. They're cheap (around $5 ea.) and they're comfy and I loved the theme.

Yeah, I really agree that "Music can set you free."

It's especially true for me, because when I start singing, I'm utterly free--everyone clears the room.

Hello all,

Well, the MRI of my brain was...interesting. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic, though. Being squeezed, arrow-straight, flat on your back and motionless, into that tight space with hard plastic around your head, for nearly half and hour--well, I don't know how anyone with claustrophobia could handle that. Afterwards, I was a bit woozy for some reason. I don't know what they injected into my hand, but I was awfully tired afterwards. Slept like a rock last night, for a pleasant change.

The weather's been gorgeous here, but rain's on the way for the weekend. We never got the big rainstorm that was supposed to come in last weekend, so maybe this time we'll be getting our due. We could use it, been an unsusually dry spring, so far.

I spent part of the evening listening to Kylie, the cats and me on the balcony, watching the traffic go by. There were two huge turkey buzzards

soaring over Glens Falls last night. Despite their ugliness up close, in flight they are really quite graceful and beautiful.

I'm really enjoying Kylie's music. It makes me long for the freedom of the open road--good tunes blaring away, driving through back roads of the hills and valleys. Ah well, have to settle for watching other people drive down Glen Street. I can look down at people sitting inside their cars--and hope I don't see something I shouldn't, ha-ha.

Well, driving weather is here, despite the gas (petrol) crisis. The classic cars and duded up hot rods are out, all nice and shiny after being garaged for the winter, and also there's people in convertables, driving with the top down, as well.

Well, off to home in a bit. Wonder what bills will be waiting in the post for me today? Lately, it's been nothing but bills and junk mail I can't even use--coupons for car washes (just rub my carlessness in, why don't they?) and posh restaurants I can't possibly afford. Although, I did get some rather nice KFC vouchers, good until mid-June. Haven't had fried chicken in a while.

So, it's a tight week, financially. I have a big 150 dollar medical bill that absolutely must be paid--or no more services from that office, which leaves me only 20 or 30 dollars left over, afterwards--which the cat food, bus fares, laudromat money and cab fare to the laundromat, has to all come out of. I still have about 30 dollars left in food vouchers, so at least I don't have to buy food out of the leftover funds, thank God. I tell you though, the more money I have coming in, the more the bills start pouring in--you pay one thing, and suddenly you've got five more bills in the post the next day. Can't win for losing.

You know, I find it rather strange, that I get two to three hundred more hits to my blog site, on days when I am offline, then when I'm actively writing. What's with that, I wonder?