I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

I found, in packing up papers, some more "ideas" for plays, that I'd written down--one I barely remember writing down...it was inspired by a dream I had one night, in the wee hours of the morning...it was about an washed up famous actor, that gets stranded in a southern mining town--arrested and is about to be railroaded into a prison farm, when the judge's daughter (the town librarian, who just happens to be in charge of the really bad (aka: horrible) community theater group..sees said actor, talks "daddy" into giving the actor community service with the theater group--things go downhill..they uphill (I wrote in the margins of the paper "feel-good story") as the actor, who started out hating the librarian, the town and the ameteur actors--winds up loving it all, and the play (Hamlet or Morning Becomes Electra, I wrote in the margins) is a bit hit...sort of. I barely remember writing this--had to be two or three years ago, but it will give me something to start, and maybe fiddle about with, while I'm internet-less.

Well, I was sad that so many people will be missing my blog. As I wrote recently, "Now I know I'm getting old--I'm finally popular!" Or something to that effect.

So, if you really want to read stuff I wrote, here's a link to my online "writing portfolios." It's really not very good, but I just was bored over last winter and thought I'd start putting my work out there for the world to see. I won't ever be published any other way, so I figured, "What the hell, why not?"

It's mostly school work, with some stuff I just did to pass the time, thrown in: Essays, feature articles, (bad) poetry, plays and skits, a PSA, an online magazine...all sorts of stuff. Some is complete, some is just partial--either stuff unfinished or stuff that was partially lost out of my portfolios or partly destroyed. It's on a bunch of different webpages, but this is the link that will take you to the main page, which contains all links for the other pages:

http://www.tiptopwebsite.com/playwrite27

The blog doesn't want me to set up a link...keep trying by nothing's happening...so you have to do it the hard way, I'm afraid.

But I should warn you, I'm not joking about bad writing. This was just something I did 'cause it was all snowy outside, I had no money, I was trapped literally in one small room (as the was the only one with heat), had no tele and no new books to read, and no one around to talk to but the seven cats---who incidentally, make excellent bed warmers ...and, well, I just desperately needed something to do.

I got so desperate, I went on sites like Wishlist, and picked out a house and designed rooms for it...and went on Things I Want.com and picked out 100 imaginary things that I wanted...I mean, I was seriously, seriously, bored.

Anyway, tommorrow's moving day, and barely half packed, and exhausted already.

Gosh, what I'd give for a shot of Doctor Who right now, to perk me up--I'm lagging...packing and shifting stuff...whew! What a weekend this is!
See you soon, I hope. Soon as I get my bills squared away, I'll be up and running agian....promise.

DOCTOR; "You know..this would make a really nifty night light for the TARDIS."

ROSE: "No more tripping over the chair on the way to the loo?"

(Sorry, this is likely the worst one ever.)

Trying to connect with the landlord, National Grid, the phone company,etc...is a bit like two ships that pass in the night--'tho unlike the Barry Manilow song, my two ships seem to frequently be the Titanic and the Lusitania!

Well, this is my last post for awhile. For those readers who've gone to great pains to read my sometimes daft old blogs fairly regularly, you have my deepest thanks and gratitude. Not sure when I'll be back, possibly a week or two, or maybe a month or more...depends on my personal finances, my work hours and the whim of the phone company.

I will miss blogging. And, I will miss some of my Doctor Who connections. I will still be (albeit only breifly during breaks at work) able to accesss Doctor Who Online..but that's about all--and, I've got Series I, II and DW Confidential DVD's, as well as a couple of Series I shows, on VCR tape, and some books that I can re-read...so won't be singing the Who Blues for long, I hope.

(Or maybe this one, is my worst one ever?)

"Hey Billie! What d'ya think of my monkey imitation?"

Cowboy star Eya Yodel, calls for a new mount, when the horse he was given by the studio exceeded it's fifty-thousand hoofbeat warranty.

I'm having a really horrible night, so I will keep this short.

Not much that could be classified as interesting, going on with me, today.

I did ring up some poor woman, whose parents named her "Jean Autry"...poor girl. Well, as a toy gun-totin' cowgirl/tomboy, I would'a loved it...but I imagine she must have put up with a lot of teasing as a youngster.

I have to do something this morning, that's going to make this the second-worst day of my life--but am NOT going to discuss it here, as to not upset my more sensitive readers. I've already posted to my alternate blog, if curious friends honestly want to know. No, I'm NOT committing sucide, so don't worry on that score.

I don't want to talk--or even think-- too much about unpleasntries, this morning, so on to lighter subjects.

Well, I've certainly been enjoying the DVD's someone sent me this summer...watched DW Confidential and part of New Earth, last night. It helped me to relax and forget my troubles for just a bit...even tho' I've watched these things about ten zillion times, it seems. New Earth cracks me up--David Tennant is amazing! He makes it (acting) look so easy! Trust me, acting's hard--well, for me, anyway. But then, my only talent in this life, is that I can take a western saddle that hasn't been cleaned in 40 years and (with the right tools/products) make it look like new or nearly-new, again. Big deal. One-talent "Dusty", ha-ha.

Well, this "old maid" could probably use a little Queer Eye help, this week. I have been so tired, sick and busy, that my appearece--and my flat, both could be classified as disaster areas. Even my eating has become dreary and not great. Today's breakfast: a cheap frozen pizza. Been living on hot dogs, Ramen noodles and ham sandwiches. I miss cooking, but no time and no appetitte and..just no, right now. The Queer Eyes would have a ball with me, I bet.

Had a trivial bit of sad news (for me)..just a tiny bit of sad news..nothing to get depressed over or anything...although I am sad to hear this. I read that Queer Eye, my second fav TV show, has been cancelled. Although I've only seen one epidsode in the past 2 years (no cable tv to watch it on), I've kept abreast of what's going on with the "Fab Five." I found their book in the library, the other night. Even tho' I'm not a straight guy, or gay...but a "genuine old maid," I still loved the book--read it twice. Tho' directed at straight guys, it actually made for interesting (and fun) reading.

A Queer Eye fan friend that I sometimes chat with online, took exception to my saying it was my second favourtie show. I told her, "The Queer Eye guys rock...but Doctor Who rules!

Really looking forward to Series III, tho' it won't be shown here for not quite a year (if at all). I hear it's really going to be great--better than before, which will be quite a feat, I must say, if they do indeed pull it off again. Worth waiting for, at any rate--'tho I'm told you can see it on UTube--but my computer can't accomodate it, with dial up. So..have to wait like a good little American Who fan. Ah well...(big sigh).

Well, guess who just barely avoided being homeless--thanks to the help of a good friend (who shall remain nameless) and a little bit of luck. I will be a five or 7 minute walk from my place of employment, about 4 or5 blocks from the centre of downtown. Bit of a dump, but not too bad, really, for the location and the money. I was told I could paint it myself, if I was so inclined, which I might do, someday. And I can keep three of my cats--so not total devistation there.

Won't go into anything else, as that's for my other blog. Just thought certain readers would want to know.
I still won't be blogging for a bit, as of Sunday...will take some time to restore phone and internet service, after the expenses of the move. And I'm required to have renter's insurance, so that's a bit extra I hadn't planned on.

Load of other hurdles in front of me...but one step at a time, I guess. At least I'm feeling a bit better...not 100 percent, but...better. Tired tho' and head and stomach still ache a bit.

Anyway, I was rather enjoying posting threads on the Doctor Who Online site...then the rugrats came along. There's some really terriffic young people on the site...smart and nice kids...but suddenly, there's been some total brats turning up, with their moronic text speak and their bad attitues and exceedingly rude behaviour. Well, no more posts for me. Oh, I will respond to my friends posts..and interesting posts by regulars...but really fed up with rugrats intruding into my posts, "yelling" and calling me names and telling me what I can or cannot say...I don't need that nonsense. Not with all this other heavy stuff to deal with. Uh-uh. Under normal circumstance, I'd probably just ignore the little brats, but my circumstances are far from normal..and it just upsets me much more than it usually ever would. Shame, but nothing I can do, but stop posting so often. I'll be damned if I'm going to allow myself to be abused by some little tyke in a foreign coutry thousands of miles away--and most of these kids are at school, while doing it!

It's too bad. I really like that site..but as long as the guys that run it, give free rein to the ASBO kids, nuts to that, I say. There's other sites I enjoy, like the Teaspoon site and the BBC site is sort of okay, as well.

So, tired tonight. Was going to watch something Dr. Who related, like maybe DW Confidential...but just too exhaused. Too tired to even bother eating. Just want a hot bath and my warm quilt to snuggle under.

Actor David Tennant was less than thrilled that fellow actor Noel Clarke had chosen to have the beans for breakfast.

I've done a few, "Huh, isn't that somethin's" tonight :

Just noticed my stats. Don't look at them all that often, but saw where some 10 people looked at my website over 200 times in one day...okay, find that a bit..odd. Those stats either are wrong, or someones writing my biography.

In packing, I found out that I own no less than 3 dictionaries...knew I had two...never realized, in all this time (lived here 7 months) that I actually had three. Hmmm...maybe the literary fairy left one for me when I lost that playscript in my computer back in June...you know, a tooth fairy leaves money..oh, never mind. Stupid joke.

Disovered I have a small blister on my palm, that I never noticed before...think one would, on one's palm, wouldn't you?

Had an e-mail from Colleges Online, with the heading (censored for this blog), "F*ck you dude." Well...that will get me to enroll, won't it? Not. I'm telling you, my family, on mum's side, has been over here since Jamestown..so belive me when I say, modern Americans are morons. I love my country...but the people...eh..only country in the world where the masses take pride in being stupid.

Found out that besides popcorn, my little cat Flame also likes pizza.

The place I grew up in, the street where I lived, had, at one time been part of the vast Victorian-era estates owned by American industrialist Russell Sage and his family, as well as a few other wealthy folks. The main mansion was located across the highway from our street, but other houses and mansions and farms existed on our side, as well.

By my time (1960-83), the carrige house was converted to a rental house, the hen house was a shed. The one mansion mostly housed the Episcopal bishops of Albany, NY--until the early 80's. The original house burnt down, and a more modern structure re-built. The old cowbarn/polo pony stables/feed store/groom's quarters still remained...a green and white barn complex...closely pattened on the barns at the world famous Saratoga Race Course. It smelled deeply of must and mold and the rotting native pine of which it was made.

There were the Japanese gardens, right behind our house---moss covered paths, flowers and flowering bushes, and evergreens..designed to be green all year 'round, with a big silver bowl that at one time (before it was stolen) had a cherub leaning on a fish that spit water from its mouth. There was the teahouse..torn down in the late 70's after some stupid teens vandalized it. Basically, it was a rustic brown screen house with indoor BBQ pits and a heavy-duty corrigated green plastic-like roof. I used to sit under the overhang on rainy days, gazing arcross the nearby ravene up at the grove of northern white pines on the little hill opposite. I used to sit there, reading or writing poetry, or trying (unsuccessfully, sadly) to learn the guitar, or just sit, and listen to the rain drumming on the roof, and the squak of the bluejays and smell the musty wood of the building and the tang of wet pine and the deep fragrance of the earth.

The little ravene that ran in front of the gardens, ran alongside our house. Across from the ravene and our house, was an old pasture with a few apple trees. Reckon the trees must've been all of at least 50 years old by my time. Black rot crawling up their trunks--the apples used to fall to the ground, then get ripe...but they were delicious apples, nonetheless.

I used to sit in the lower branches of the tree and daydream. About horses, or meeting my favourite celebrity of the moment, of writing a great book, of...oh, all sorts of things, I imagine. Sometimes, though...I just absorbed. I sat and listened and watched and smelled...and felt. I let the landscape become a part of me, in that old apple tree, as I became part of the landscape. We merged together until the creaking of the branches seemed to be so natural to me, like my own breath. Allowing the tree, the wind, the sky and sun to mingle inside my soul, to merge into a feeling that words cannot capture sufficently. It was a spirtual experience..a feeling of serenity, or peace and harmony..of being in the very centre of the universe and joining with the life around you.

There's some that say, sitting in an old apple tree for long periods must be rather boring...but how can one be bored, when one has the universe? Because, to me, nature is the universe...a microcosom of it. All the sounds and smells and sights and feelings all mingle..each is like a thread in a huge and complex tapestry..the tapestry being the universe. The apple tree is just one small thread out of billions and billions...but all you need is to touch that thread..and you've touched the universe.

It's raining, the flat's cold, I just got a call from the person I thought was going to help me move--her truck broke down and she can't come. I have to move everything--air conditioner, desk, books, etc..all by myself. Not good. Kiss my back goodbye. I'm sick and I have to do some unpleasant things this week..I need cheering. Found the above cartoon, that made me laugh, so I am sharing. Maybe someone else out there needs a bit of a laugh.

BTW: I just want to let everyone know, in case they haven't read it before, that I'm refraining from deep personal information these days on this site, because I'm doing that on my alternate blog...and again, if you want that blog adress, you need to contact me, personally.

Not much going on today..just packing and shifting furniture..inbetween laying in bed feeling like..pardon the expression, total crap. At least the headache's better--last night it felt like my head was going to explode. It was actually worse then when I had that bad concussion a month or so ago.

A 16 year old Dr. Who fan told me today on the DW Online site, that I "rock." Now I know I'm getting old: I'm popular, he-he.

So, here's a joke, a bad one, I'm afraid...but, as Jessica Rabbit once said, "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way." Don't ask, no idea why I just wrote that.

Anyway:
A priest, a rabbi and an American southern preacher were out playing golf. They got stuck behind the slowest players they'd ever seen...five hours later they come stomping into the clubhouse and confront the guy in charge: "How come you let those guys play out there so slow for?" The guy in charge tells the three clergymen that the slow players were slow because they were blind. The Rabbi says, "God forgive my impatience." The preist says, "I will say a prayer of repentance." The southern precher frowns and says, "Well, can't they-all just play at night?"

Well, 'bout the only interesting thing that happened to me today, is that I actually called some guy in Tennessee, named "Bart Crouch." No, he didn't live in Askaban, TN, he-he.

Swtiched to a new campain at work...no more re-selling memberships to people who canceled them because they hated the club's guts. Now I'm just selling straight upgrades. Still hard, but not as hard as trying to convince someone who's being harassed by a collection agency, that they really should re-join the club--who's doing the harrassing.

I'm sick. Hoping I won't have to stay home from work--very sick and getting sicker since last night. Started with feeling run-down (chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep, but was wrong, I guess) and also a sore throat. This morning I had stomach problems, this afternoon I developed a headache, now the back of my neck feels all weird, I've got chills and a fever....damn. Could the timing be any possibly worse? Well...not surprised. When I lost my home (whopping big caravan) last spring, I was forced to move on a snowy day with full-blown pneumonia. Why should this time be any different, ey?

Still up in the air regarding housing, playing 'phone tag with a potential landlord. In case anyone's interested.

Nannyogg...thanks for the comment...glad your craft fair went well..they are fun, aren't they? I used love helping out at the Presbyterian church. I think the minister's wife must of seen me for a sucker--roast beef dinners, sunday school, choir (and I really can't sing or read music), the christmas musical (ditto), caroling for shut ins (ditto again), recycling drives, food pantry, Christmas bazzar...you name it, I let myself be talked into it--once even to my regret, as I found out I was alergic to theatrical makeup the hard way. But church fuctions can be quite fun--as long as you avoid the stuffed shirts...you know, the pompous person who think working at church automatically nominates him or her for sainthood. But, gladly, most members of my church were really great people, who, like me, gave their time...just because. Which I think is the best reason, yes?

Speaking of pompous chruch people. I got this southern preacher on the phone--he was a suscriber to an American Civil War history club. I asked him about upgrading his membership...told him his name would appear on the club's honor roll of members...triggered a long tirade on how the only place he wants to see his name is in the "Book of the Lamb." (I thought...you want to be listed in a butcher's account book?) Oh, he went on and on..and on and on...(God, I feel sorry for his flock on Sundays!) about how hard he worked bringing the gospel to the masses...etc. etc. I mean...I'm of the "shut up about what you're (and what you thing everyone else is) going to do, and just do what needs to be done." I hate get in your face religion. With a passion. I like a good sermon as much as the next person...but for pity's sake, don't throw your religion in my face and expect me to genuflect or fawn over your piety. Man, I was ready to get out my harp and start playin' for this guy. He definately thinks he's in line for sainthood...or whatever Holy Rollers believe in.

I also found out today, just what is wrong with America--we're complete morons!

No, really. The NRA (Natl. Rifle Assocation) is a huge power in Washington politics. Huge. Well, got this guy on the 'phone, who swore to me that the NRA says that the reason this country can't win the war against "all the muslims" (didn't know we were fighting ALL Musims...thought we were fighting Iraqi's and terrorists--hmmm.) Anyhow...this guy says that the "liberals" (people like me) are "prettying" up everything...from making Abe Lincoln look handsomer on paper money, to making the Muslims look like nice people. Okay...so, we're losing the war because the enemy is too pretty? Alrighty then....yes. That has taken the top spot as to the strangest conversation I've ever had since starting this job.

By the way, I was not only against this war--long before it was a war..but I was against the Gulf War, as well. And if you don't like my politics...hey. Don't read the blog, yeah? Okay, I have to do the "liberal democrat victory dance" WE WON WE WON WE WON...HA-HA! TAKE THAT YOU CONSERVATIVES...WE SWEPT YOU AWAY!!! 30 YEARS OF NY REPOUBLICAN RULE GONE!!! YIPPEEE!!! UP WITH THE PEOPLE!!! LONG LIVE LIBERALS EVERYWHERE!!! Mean old stupid repbulicans...

Well, not feeling so hot...dont' even feel like dinner...and lunch was 9 hours ago. I should be starving...but could care less about eating...I'm definately sick. Off to bed then, with me.

Just want to inform my few blog readers of something, those that don't already know, anyhow:

A week from today, this blog will be ending--at least for the time-being. I will, for all intents and purposes (unless a genuine miracle happens) be homeless. I will no longer have access to either of my e-mail's, as well. Those few friends who are in contact with me (aka: dustyboots), through Doctor Who Online , will have to PM me on that site, as of Sunday, October 19th, if you want to maintain contact with me.

I will continue to blog on this site, on and off through the week, but chances are the blog will cease without much warning.

In case I don't have the opportunity later, thanks to everyone for taking the time to read my blogs and commenting on them. It was and is, very much appreciated.

Just a question to the blogging masses:

What on earth is the difference between a "pageview" and a "vistior" in the stats?

Can't find a thing on the site that explains this difference. Help a newbie out, ey? Ta!

I'm getting an overdose of hard reality tonight, packing all my things...having to cuddle cats that will no longer be in my life in a week's time, staring at walls that, in less than two weeks, will no longer be my home. In two weeks time, I will offically be homeless. So, I need to escape for awhile. I don't have a car and I live away from town and friends...and it's after 11, too late for a walk in the rain, in the woods. At least, not these woods.

Back home, in my valley, my beloved sad grey hills of the Upper Hudson Valley, I knew every blade of grass, every tree, every sound, every momvement...like they were a part of my very own soul. But that was so long ago, it seems a hundred years, another time, another life...someone else's life. Not this person, sitting here in the night, alone, writing words to people I'll never see.

I used to love a fresh snowfall. I especially loved the aftermath: snowcovered fields and woods...trees laced with a fresh coating of snow, like the icing on gingerbread. I loved the silence. The stillness of the landscape, like the universe dared not breath, lest it break the fragile spell of the snow-transformed landscape.

Sometimes, it was so quiet, you could swear you could hear the crystals of snow sifting down from the trees. Sometimes the wind would murmur through the Northern White Pines, the bushy boughs, swaying beneath the weight of the snow, a low half-whisper, half-moaning sound, that spoke both of loneliness and beauty in the same breath.

I'd don my snowshoes and tread the virgin snow. I'd trek out to the middle of the field, stop in the middle, look at the tracks behind me. It felt like being the first person to walk a new land, a new planet.

I'd stand there...the deep blue moonlight, casting shadows over the fields, illuminating the trees on the low, rolling, stark bare hills across the river, on the other side of the valley.

I'd stand there, leaning on my hiking pole (a sumac staff cut from my backyard), watching my breath dance upward in the clear air. Breath in the clean smell of new snow and pine pitch.

I'd grab a handful of fluffy new snow, throw it in the air, watch it come drifting down, sparkling like diamonds.

It was like being in the arms of God.

Proof that reading horoscopes is a waste of effort:

Scorpio
You're feeling slightly disoriented as your birth month rolls in. Although your plans are coming to fruition, results are confusingly mixed, and you're being forced to make some tricky judgment calls. In fact, something that seems certain and right one day is likely to appear questionable or infeasible the next. With Mercury, the mind planet, moving backward until the 18th, your best options are to play for time and clarify every detail until you know exactly where you stand. By the 21st, you appear confident and resolved, and Jupiter's entrance into your financial angle on the 24th promises unprecedented good fortune. ---Yeah, maybe I'll get hit by a cement truck and my crushing financial and other worries will finally be over, ey?

So I read where David Tennant's Doctor is now officially sporting his new blue suit and red trainers. Good for him. I guess even Time Lord's get bored with the same old wardrobe, ey?

Gosh, I miss clothes shopping--used to go roughly once a year...usually about this time...pre-Christmas sales, ya'know, are sometimes better than the Christmas one's...the stores are changing from summer and fall wardrobes to winter and spring, and you sometimes can pick up some great bargains--especially at my favourite stores, like Peter Harris, TJ Max and Kohls. I used to sometimes get things for as much as 80 percent off..things I normally wouldn't be able afford, nomrally. But..not this year--probably not next year, either. I was lucky to be able to buy 2 pairs of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and a tee shirt this year (the total sum of my wardrobe spending, minus stuff purchased at the chruch rummage sale and boot sales). But, not complaining. Something is better than nothing at all...but it's tough, having to constantly pull up my trousers--even with a belt on. Going down a size or two in weight is all well and fine when you can splurge on new clothes, but a real drag when you can't--nearly everything, except the above mentioned items, is a size or two, too big on me...but, I tighten my belt, tuck things in a little snugger, and make things work.

Thank goodness I've kept my "good" clothes in spare, and only wore them when absolutely needed. Mostly everything, though slightly baggy, still looks halfway decent...some items still look fairly new. It's all well and fine for God (former boss lady, see old posts from August/Sept.) to tell me to "dress nicer." But if I had...the stuff would have worn out in no time, and now where would I be? Thank goodness the office is mostly dress casual during the work week--and casual dress (jeans and tees allowed) on Fridays and weekends. It makes dressing for work loads easier, as I only own two winter dresses and two winter suits...the rest of the time I can wear trousers with sweaters and/or blouses, so that's a load off me, at any rate. The down side is they don't allow denim skirts Mon-Thurs., Which leaves me with only two skirts I can wear to the office, as three of my five skirts are denim. Oh well. Mostly too cold for skirts, anyhow, right now.

I had a lot of complements on my outfit that I wore Thursday. It's my favourite, but I was surprised. It's two years old and getting a bit worn, by now, even though I've only worn it a handful of times: my dad's funeral, three job interviews, a party, an open house at a museum and to church once. I bought the top at TJ Max--black satin button up jacket, with a delicate embroidered chinese dragon motif in irridecent threads. Found the trousers at Kohls--black satin, with a gold and orange/brown paisely design going from the outside trouser bottoms and tapering about halfway up to calf length. They match so well, everyone thinks it's a matched set, even tho' I bought them two weeks apart, from two different stores, some forty miles apart! I wore it to dad's funeral, and my old neighbours--the one's who watched me grow up looking like (no joke) a cross between Roy Rogers and John Denver, were literally shocked. They weren't used to the "new" grown up me--'course, most of them hadn't seen me in nearly 25 years, so that might have had something to do with it, as well. I used to be all quiet and shy...and I was right out there at the funeral palor, doing the meet and greet, while mum and sis sat on the sofa in the corner. Nope. The old gang from Menands weren't used to the new me--some of them were honestly quite taken aback.

It's not that I'm not shy anymore--far from it. It's that between college, and joining clubs and acting and traveling--I just...adjusted. I learned to be outgoing...like one learns to cook or drive a car or ride a horse. Doesn't mean I'm thrilled with it. I hate meet and greets...but...I just do what I did in my rather horrid little acting classes--and when the water's cold at the lake...just dive right in and get the old head wet. Sort of like what I'm doing now, in crisis (don't worry, not going into details, save that for my alternate blog now), I'm just plunging in and dealing with it. Don't want to...really, really, really, really DO NOT want to...but, what're ya' gonna' do? Wear the fancy dress and do the meet and greet with nasty ol' life.

My first Saturday home in quite a while. For the first time since I can remember, I actually slept until nearly 11. Usually, work days, I'm up no later than quarter past five, and on my days off I'm nearly always up by 8 or 8:30. Guess I must have been more tired than I realized.

I'm trying to type with little Flamey in my lap. She's missed me not being here.I'm balancing the keyboard on the arm of the chair, whilst she looks up at me with adoring eyes. Hasn't left my side since I came home last night, except to eat and drink and stuff. She gave my face a good washing this morning, as well. Now I won't need to shower, he-he.

Outside of the cats and e-mails of my friends, my only real entertainment is Doctor Who. One of these days I'll get really ambitious--when I have an entire day maybe, this winter, off, when there's a blizzard or something, and watch every episode of Series I and Series II.

I envy my British fans, because I'll have to wait nearly a year to see Series III, here. I just hope RTD hasn't mucked about with it too much. I hate soap operas with a passion--'bout as much as I hate harlequin novels, Fox News and most reality shows (Lost, Big Brother, Survivor, etc--although I admit, I adore our version of Queer Eye..Carson's a doll, and kind of got hooked on Top Chef for a while).

The fan site forum has given me something to do, as well as the fan fiction site. I desperately need something to do (besides housework) when I'm home--otherwise I sit and just stare into space all day, obsessing with my problems...not good. So Doctor Who has been a real help to me, to get me through the long hours alone--that, and thinking of my friends, of course.

Proof that mum was right: Sitting too close to the telly really can hurt your eyes.

I'm back, in case anyone noticed that I'd taken a day or so off from writing.

The new job is...interesting. I'm finding America, calling coast to coast--sob stories, incredibly obnoxious rude people--especially American men! American men seem to have lost something in the Rebublican years (1980 to present). Used to be an American man took pride in how he behaved--respectful to women, namely. I can tell you first hand--mostly, that pride's long gone...not entirely, mind, but...getting a little scarce.

But There was the Texan who loved to tell jokes, and today...well, I'm still wondering how a conversation with some old geezer from Kentucky about gardens (I was selling garden club memberships) and growning tomatoes, turned into, "You all have such a sweet voice, tell me, you're preety aren't you? Tell me what you look like, darlin'." I was temporarily at a loss--then a young female office worker walked by, with a novelty tee shirt on--and boom! I had my response. "When people talk about someone good looking, have you ever heard of the expression, 'eye candy?'" I asked him. "Why shore!" He eagerly responded. "Well...." I said, "I'm eye brussel sprouts." We finsihed our conversation real quick, after that.

Willam Metcalf--Vermont Hills, November. 1923

Today was a gloomy, overcast day. Not as raw as the last few days, and no snow or rain. I overheard someone say how ugly November is. How she missed the springtime and the flowers. But, as R.W. Emerson once wrote: "There is a crack in everything God has made." Only God is perfect--nature is not--so goes November...dull, grey, cold and dreary. Or is it?

I've seen November hills, and wondered at them. The stark grey and silver trees, shivering, pathetic remnants of shriveled brown leaves, trembling in the quicking breezes blowing down from the artic north. I've seen those hills, when the sun sets. The silver and grey transformed into bleeding sentinels, rosy candles of untouchable beauty. Rolling golden hills, richer in the fading glories of the sun, than the mind nearly cannot comprehend, but the soul can feel with no hesitation.

A turkey saying hello to another turkey.

So, here in the states, one month before Christmas day (roughly), the last Thursday of November, we celebrate our second biggest holiday, Thanksgiving.

Above, is the president, doing the annual White House tradition, of "pardoning" a thanksgiving turkey...it will never be slaughtered for food. Is is me, or is there something ironic in worrying about the life of a turkey, but thinking nothing of the loss of the lives of civilans and soldiers overseas.Crazy Americans.

We sometimes had good TG hols at our house, growing up. No fights, the turkey came out okay, everything calm. Dad reading his paper and sleeping in, sis doing...whatever sis did..with her, one never knew--usually she stayed at the boyfriends or husband's (depending on the year) place, until dinner time rolled around, then she'd breeze in, eat and leave. Mum would be tending to the turkey and "fixin's," in-between watching the parades and movies with me. Some year's we'd go out to dinner, at a hotel or somewhere, instead.

I remember the year I talked mum into making pheasant. On the way to high school (in a town 45 minutes away), there was a pheasant farm--man...that was good! Only time we ever had domestic pheasant (wild pheasant sometimes leaves something to be desired)...it was considered by all, to be quite possibly the best dinner we'd ever had, that year. Another time, mum bought a new brand of turkey--they'd sold out of her usual brand--and she fussed and worried about the quality--but, it came out absolutely perfect, and mum beamed all through dinner.

The food almost always was the same on our table--dad positively hated change...mum had to buy the same food every week--even the same bath soap and bathroom tissue, or dad would kick a fuss. So, usually, with the exception of the pheasant--and I think one year we tried duck (not a good idea)..the side dishes and appetizers seldom changed: various cheeses and crackers, green olives and sliced pickles, shrimp cocktail, fruit cocktail and/or orange juice, milk, homemade sage bread stuffing that was cooked in the turkey, peas with pearl onions, fresh carrots--later replaced by broccoli with cheese sauce, tinned gravy, cranberry sauce (jelly), hot Friehoffers "brown and serve" rolls with butter...followed by pumpkin or apple pie and maybe coffee...or some years, ice cream, or both. This menu hardly ever changed, until after dad left in '82.

Then, there's the memories one might not find in the old Norman Rockwell-ish mental scrapbook...

Yeah...the good old, "Oh my God, the turkey's still frozen!" years:
Mum and I taking turns...holding up a naked pimply turkey by it's legs in the kitchen sink, running hot water down the neck and watching
the bloody water pour through the aforementioned naked turkey's bum, down the drain below. That was fun. Usually took an hour or more...depending on how frozen Mr. Naked Turkey actually was.

The year dad, for some reason only dad ever knew, decided to take us to Bob's Diner (a little diner next to the railroad tracks in the neighbouring city of Watervilet, NY) Oh yeah...what a lovely holiday dinner that was--lumpy gravy, luke warm turkey, out of all the good side dishes, nothing left but mushy luke warm peas---and really lousy service..the pie was rather good though, as I recall. However the food poisoning wasn't too well received, the next day.

Then, there's the year, back in the mid-80's, when mum and I traveled the 15 or 20 miles to my siter's place--we'd been invited to dinner for the very first time ever...and got there--and no one answered the door. We wound up having to track down a pay phone and calling her--seems she and hubby fell asleep on the sofa, stoned out on the drug of the day, whatever that was--and burned the turkey to a blackened crisp...we ate it anyway. Sawed through the bread stuffing...I couldn't eat the veg, as sis totally forgot my loathing for anything having to even remotely to do with mushrooms--and coated the green beans in cream of mushroom soup. When she carved--or rather hack-sawed the turkey--it practically exploded...no, really.

Back in the late 90's, I had sis and her boyfriend dujour over for dinner--I went to great pains to use my cooking school lessons, and prepared a genuine Virgina baked ham--from a 100 year old recipe...took hours and hours to prepare...plus homemade bread and fresh veggies galore. Started cooking at 6 am, was still at it past three. So there I was, after spending hours slaving away at this tedious task of slow roasting and sugar coating a ham...and all that other stuff...oh I was so proud of myself--a resturant quality dinner just for my family! So, a quarter to 4 in the afternoon, everyone sits down...I'm standing carving the ham and putting all the side dishes in their proper containers and plates and handing them to mum...I turn around...the food's gone! My sister and her husband and my nephew..demolished my lovely dinner, before I even had a chance to sit down and say grace! I was devistated...but didn't allow it to show--but the next time she came for dinner--nothing went on the table until I was good and ready to sit down!

Last year, sis remembered--literally the night before, to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner--they don't celebrate Christmas, but they do Thanksgiving--sis really leaves me clueless, sometimes. Anyway, we're on the phone, discussing who's going to pay the funeral home or something like that--and she says, "Oh--are you going out for turkey day?" I told her no, I couldn't afford it, that I was just going to have a sandwich or something...mum had only been buried the week before, so I wasn't keen on cooking a big dinner just for myself. So, sis says, "Ummm--I guess you could come here, if you want." Big warm invite, that--sis always did have a way with words. Anyway, gist of it is..it was a typical Thanksgiving--we had a blizzard. Usually does rain or snow on TG day. And sis lives on the very top of a mountain, next to the Green Mountain National Forest in Vermont...a long trek down backroads to get there...after the 2 to 3 hour drive to the southern city of Bennington, Vermont, from my Adirondack home.

So, Thanksgiving is, for me, like A Tale of Two Cities--or, in this case, two holiday dinners..."It was the best of times, and the worst of times..."

So, I seem to be upsetting a number of people with my reality...and therefore I will mostly revert back to the same old boring discussons about absolutely nothing important.

I have a few things to say first, and this will be the last comments on my real, true life:

For me, it's not safe or nice or cozy--I live on the edge constantly, from day to day, week to week...never knowing if, or rather when, my world's going to come crashing to a halt. Let me tell you, it's a hell of a way to live.

My life is not in any way secure, is never completely safe, in the sense of having a "normal" everyday existance...and hasn't been for the past year. Often, it may only be worry about having enough food to eat, or money for transport to work, or money to keep the electric and phone on--sometimes, it's much, much worse...from living through the death of someone close, to having to throw away five years of education, to being jobless, to losing my home and most of my few remaining possessions. Repeatedly, I face, major crisises and my worst nightmares on a regular basis--sometimes there's distant friends (whom I never actually physically see), and sometimes--there's no one. My worst nightmare really is being homeless...to me, it actually is more frightening than death.

What happened Tuesday, well, I don't think my reaction was overboard. To find an analogy that most people can relate to: It's like someone who's lives in fear of getting burned alive, being trapped in a burning building. It's like a man who's terrified of drowning, being on the Titanic when it struck the iceburg and started sinking. That was Tuesday night. I can't think of any better way to describe it.

Okay, so Tuesday night (my time) and Wednesday, and part of Friday--I freaked out like a little girl. I'm sorry if my reaction to my real-life wide-awake nightmare--coming true for the second time this year, bothered some people.

Therefore, since no one has come forward to tell me to quit it..I will continue this blog--but will no longer discuss my personal life, in regards to the bad stuff---from now on it will be all fluff and glitter, because God forbid, the general public should have find out that reality is not a TV show or a popular novel.

For my friends who want to keep tabs on the "real" me, if you don't have my other blog address, send me a message and I will provide it for you. I am switching to that blog on Sunday night (my time--five hours behind the U.K.) for daily updates on my present true situation.

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That said, now for the trivial stuff:

Just read the Doctor Who novel (thanks, GS!), Heritage. It was written six years ago--yet found a good many similarities between the Doctor (7th Doctor) in that book, and Russell T. Davies' idea of the "New" Doctor Who. The 7th Doc in Heritage, is very, very dark and brooding...and his thoughts often seem to mirror the present Doctor's (9th and 10th) more darker thoughts--especially in School Reunion, when Tennant's Doctor says, "Everyone died...I lived." I'm wondering if Mr. Davies got some of his ideas from this novel, or if it's just a case of two mind's thinking alike. Guess I'll never know.

Speaking of Series II, there's seems to be quite a few mentions of the weather--namely the drop in temperature. Leaving me to ponder, if this is just to explain the actor's breath being seen in a summer episode, just casual conversation, or is it related to something that's going to happen in Series III? Guess I won't know about that, either, ey?

And, speaking of books, I'm also reading a somewhat amusing story called, "A Mulligan for Bobby Jobe." It's a novel involving southern rednecks and pro-golf. Not bad--quite a few little chuckles in there. I've actually known (not well, mind) guys like the one's in the story. I'm not hugely into golf, myself, other than watching in on tele sometimes, and playing it on Nintendo, when I had one.

One of the things I will miss about not being in Lake George: the arcade...I'm getting rather good at the western gunslinger simulator...on the "deputy" (beginner) level, I got my quick draw down to .57 seconds, on occaision...not bad for a 46 year old, crotchety, arthritic old maid, yeah?

Did well shopping last night---didn't think I could manage meat this week--but found out the grocers near the downtown of the city, on Fridays, discounts nearly-expired meat. Good deals...got 3 "Quebec" seasoned chicken legs for 75 cents, a "Chicken mignon" (basically a itty-bitty little piece of chicken breast, wrapped in bacon) for 50 cents, a large package of turkey meatballs for a bit over a dollar...not bad...thought I'd have to live off the same food all week..spent all of 11 dollars on groceries--tho' I still need milk, margarine, and something for sandwiches to take to work--as I'm out of peanut butter (Thank God!) and the tuna is nearly gone. So I'll try to find some salami or ham or bologna that's cheap. Forgot to get bin bags, as well...and kitty litter. Still, I was hoping to keep the food bill for the week under 20 dollars (ten pounds), so I guess I'm at least going to do that, anyway.

So, still a few snow flurries around today, but that's November for you.

Going to be a cold Thanksgiving holiday, this year, I suspect..well...yours truly is "thankful" that I don't have to wrestle with cooking a turkey anymore. It's such a joy, on Thanksgiving morning, to wake up and realize that the Turkey is still frozen. Or to be invited to a relatives house, and drive there, only to find that said relavtive fell asleep on the couch and burned the turkey to the point where it's ready to explode.

Americans can't use telephones! Every day on this job, I bless my late mum for forcing me to learn telephone etiquite in the second grade! Often, instead of saying "hello" like normal people, the person on the other end will respond, "What?" or "Who is this?" I hate to say this, but cultrually, I find our manners a bit..embarrasing, in America, sometimes. Really, it amazes me. I forgot how many people in this country, can't do a simple thing like answer a phone civially....I'd like to strap them in a chair and make them watch Hyacynth Bucket from Keeping up Appearences..."The bouquet residence, the lady of the house speaking..." that's great...I've been tempted to try that myself, sometimes..."the G______ residence, the lady of the house speaking..." in my best upper crust shrill voice, ha-ha.

..I did have some busy-sounding lady answer her phone today..."grand central station." (an American slang term--when a home or business is busy, we say, "it's like Grand Central (railroad) Station in here!" Anyway, I found that amusing.

Thanks for the words of advice.

I DON'T want to put my cats down!

It's just that NO ONE will take them! No one. I've called, to date, 7 animal shelters--rescue shelters, county shelters, Humane Society, ASPCA, the dog warden, pet shops...NO ONE. The problem is, is that local cities and towns are rounding up ferals and strays, and people are also dropping off unwanted cats, faster than they can be adopted. There's literally no more room at the inn. And, I've run out of shelters to call--I even phoned a shelter in southern Vermont, some 75 miles away!

And even if by some miracle, I do find a place, this time I cannot take them all with me! That's what got me evicted in the first place---the shelters were just as full in March as they are now, and no one would take ANY cats...so I was forced to literally smuggle 5 cats into my flat--and finally, the landlord found out (illegally snooping around while the plumber was here) and he blew a gasket--even tho' they've caused no damage.

I just am at a loss over what to do...one no-kill shelter agreed to take up to five cats---if, they had all their shots and the documents to prove it (no documents) and if I give the shelter 70 dollar donation per cat! (70 dollars = around 35 pounds). Yeah, for that kind of "donation," I don't wonder they're the only one's taking strays. I'm on the waiting list at two shelters--one is 5 weeks, one, 10 weeks or more.

So you see my dilemia?

As for not being "normal," I'm not. I seldom tell anyone this, and hesitate to admit this now--but...I'm bipolar. And believe me--considering all the...stuff I've had--virtully continously--over the lasst year, I don't think suicidal thoughts are all that unusual---I'm trying to avoid thinking like that--but the suicide thing is NOT an attention getter, as you seem to think! It was a sincere natural reaction---how the hell would you like to spend a day at work, thinking things are getting better and everything is actually going back to someplace closer to "normal," only to get off the bus--after a 15 hour day---and be confronted by a pissed off landlord, screamed at to get you and your cats out in 20 days or else--how the hell--and you with only---very, very very--literally 4 dollars (2 pounds) to your name? And no one (locally) to turn to...it's late, no one is up, you are totally alone in the dark of night, confronted with the reality...you have no money. YOu have no car. Y