I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

I transferred from my 2 year community college (the one that took me three years to get through), to a small four year college in Vermont. When I began commuting to the quaint small town of Castleton, little did I know about its very haunted past.

One of the houses in town, rented by students, has had frequent sightings--causing several of the more timid students to remove themselves.

There's a battlefield in nearby Hubbardton, dating, I believe, from the Revolutionary times, that's quite haunted--especially on certain nights of the year.

I had a co-worker once, tell me the chilling tale of how his dad--who'd been a marine who'd fought in Vietnam--entered an abandoned home dating from the early 1800's. The dad came out 10 minutes later, pale and shaking, stating unequivocally, that the home permeated pure evil (I've felt that sensation once before, myself, and to this day, the mere memory makes me shudder.

Here's a documentary of Vermont hauntings--and links to the rest of the episodes, if you want to pursue it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voHVRHEIGrY

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cb0D3Z7dn7A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pd5WQVtRk4M

The earth seems empty this morning.
An abandoned barn,
decayed and rotting, fading
paint and splintered wood, rusty
nails. Forgotten. My eyes
are open, like the vagabond
hills of November, dying brown
and fading reds, jaded
hills, existing in a vanishing
world. The maple leaves fall,
dancing down, down to the unforgiving
earth. Dancing thorough the angry
autumn winds. They flutter around me
as I dance with them, the step
of the damned.

Another day shot. Without meaning to, yours truly fell back to sleep this morning--and didn't wake 'till blooming half-past eleven! I NEVER sleep that late! What's up with that, I wonder? I hate sleeping late, dunno' why.

Anyway, the day's half-gone so at least some of my plans are shot down, before they even had a chance to take off. Ah well, there's always tomorrow, then.

I've the remainder--okay most of--the housework to finish, transplant my two pathetically small gerainiums and put them outside on the little balcony. I hear that Wale's entry for the Chelsea flower show is Doctor Who themed and features a Tardis as its centrepiece--how cool is that? The closest thing we have to Chelsea on my side of the Big Pond is the Boston Flower Show. I've had co-workers who've gone to that, and heard it's amazing. I've not been to Boston in nearly 20 years, the last time being a Dr Who convention at some big hotel there.

I used to have a job doing inventory for various drug (chemist) stores, all over New York and New England. A bunch of us--usually 5 or 6 people, would get in the boss's VW Rabbit and each day we'd be somewhere new: outside NY City, up here in the Adirondack mountains, Harrisburg Pennslyvania, Burlington Vermont, Boston Mass....just never knew from one day to the next, where the heck I'd be--tiring job, sometimes--and tedious, as we had this huge clunky calculators and very literally had to count EVERYTHING for sale in the store we were at. We might get in the car at 3 am, drive 3 or 4 hours, work 8 or 9 hours (sometimes we finished early if it was a small store) and drove home. But sometimes, we got to stay over--like when we went to Boston--which was cool, because we could hang out after, in the city if we wanted--we didn't. Our crew went to a cinema, and sacked out after, exhausted.

But, it was the trip to Boston, I'll never forget. My boss was in this tiny little car--and we were crammed in there, front and back, like sardines, for the 3 hour trip from Albany, NY, down the Mass Pike (Massachusetts Turnpike). We got outside Boston just at rush hour--and I imagine Boston is not much different than New York City or Los Angles in the morning rush.

Well, here we are, the six of us (and the boss), packed into the Rabbit, and the boss is weaving in and out of the extremely heavy rush hour traffic, doing--and I swear this is true--90 (144.8km) to 100 mph. I just sat there, squeezed into the back seat, pretending to be calm and cool and hip about it--with my eyes tight shut! In reality, I was scared out of my wits! That was worse than the roller coaster ride, let me tell you. That was worse than being chased by an angry moose. That was worse then having my school horse suddenly bucking all over the arena, in the middle of my western horsemanship final at college. Never again. I hated VW Rabbits.

So, that Tennant fan girl's e-mail She had a few other things she said (Why aren't they leaving comments, like everyone else?) She's like, "Oh you're so lucky living over there. .." I am? Okay, that's news to me--I just barely managed to avoid the old cardboard box in an alley, but, whatever...anyway, seems I'm "lucky" because David Tennent is going to be in L.A. this week, for some wedding--and he's going to sing. Oh? (Yawn), that's nice.

First off, L.A.---it may be in the same country, but...it's about the same distance from me as England. So....(she shrugs and raises an eyebrow)????????

I had no idea Tennant could sing, but whatever floats his boat. Fine. Sing away. Hope he can carry a tune better than me. These girls do get a bit overexcited, don't they? Was I ever like that? I hope to heck not. I'd shoot myself.

I noticed, now that the state campgrounds have opened for the season, that local stores are stocking bug repellent again--wonder if they have any fangirl repellant---spisssss---"get away from me!"

My job's really starting to get to me.

I mean, besides the fact that it's hopelessly boring. You see, whether you are selling or collecting, you have to pitch the script in a certain way. Used to be, that was no problem--I tend to tailor my approach to the situation--try to be as uniform as possible, but then ad-lib and adjust my voice/manner as the situation demands.

But lately...I'm suddenly lost. I've got a fairly new night supervisor--very, very nice lady, very helpful too, sometimes--sometimes. Lately? Beats me. First, I was told I was pitching too soft (too nice)...okay, change approach, be somewhat more hardline and to the point. Now, last night--was doing just as I was told--I'm pitching too hard. ARRRGHHH!!!

Gawd! I HATE MY JOB! I hate sales and I only marginally less hate collections. I...I just don't know what she wants. I've talked to her about it...I don't know. I guess I do suck at my job, of late. I need something fresh to do...I'm soooo bored. I mean, you say the same thing over and over and over all night long--and there's not a lot of room to tailor the script, as it's pretty straight-forward, basically it's a "you were sent this item it's past due, fork over please--said in the nicest possible way, of course.

I know I suck, because I'm one of the one's got dropped from day shift and switch to nights--only top people get day work consistently. That's why I got dropped from day work last Friday---my rates went down on Thursay, big time--never mind that I had a 103 fever and was in intense pain. Your health isn't factored into it--they just look at your daily/weekly results, and if you're not up there--you get tossed aside like yesterday's rubbish. It's very high, high pressure, to get those sales over the phone--you are expected to make half your sales right then and there, the other half to be re-billed. That's hard. A lot of people you talk to don't want to do business over the phone, or have no credit cards or even bank accounts--it's amazing how many Americans don't have bank accounts anymore.

Anyway, I've no idea how to pitch this script they way the boss wants it--so I'm just going to go with the flow, and just do the best I can. No hope for it. But it's upsetting. Used to be, just toss me a script and off I'd go, easy-peasy...now? I'm losing my confidence--and I haven't a clue why.

"Oh David's so fit. I love him so much, if I ever met him, I'd scream and wet myself."

OMG!!! Another e-mail at 7 am from a drooling David Tennant fan girl!

What in heaven's name did I ever do to deserve this? And how does the man stand it? Well...I suppose his male ego..and his less-than-ten-inch body part, probably adores it.

I am of the mind, the little kid's attention must be nice, but the teens and adults--wow. Must be like trippin' with the Doctor. Well, I suppose if I made a couple of mil a year and loved my job, I'd put up with it, too. I mean, I make less than 12,000 dollars (less than 6000 pounds) a year, and look at all the **** I have to put up with, and I HATE my job!

This one girl was referring to my David Tennant question post, of last night, I believe. As they used to say in the 80's: Gag me. Think I like him better as a broad, the big ham.

Oh, I still am in a cheeky mood today, aren't I? The city's public works department decided that they HAD to have a big bucket loader bang and clang and vrooom on the street, outside my bedroom window, at half-past six in the morning...oh, how I dearly love life in Glens Falls...so peaceful, so calm, so serene...

The new landlord's were really cool about my being a few days late with the rent, which is a relief. I hear the kids with the loud (as in louder than a lorry driving through your living room) stereo were evicted. Which explains the blessed (relatively speaking) peace and quiet, of late.

This is a very noisy building--and I can live with the thin walls (and floors and ceilings) thing, no probs--but that stereo, yikes! It actually vibrated my walls so badly at one point, that one of my pictures fell off! And they live on the opposite side of the building! You could even hear it outside, two doors down the street! And, they tended to play it to 3 or 4 in the morning. Well, it seems the former landlord got fed up with the complaints (and also, I guess there was a matter of possible drugs involved, tho' having no first-hand knowledge, I let that one slide)...anyway, out they went. I was wondering why, when I took out the bin bags to the dumpster the other day, there was all these clothes and bits of assorted furniture piled in it--looks like they left in a hurry. Maybe they didn't pay the rent, either, who knows?

Still haven't heard from the attorney. I have to try to ring up the student loan company tomorrow as well--I miss having someone to help me with stuff like this...but, I'm a big girl--hopefully I will get a human being at the other end--if not, well...still have a bottle of Seagram's Cooler in there.

And...I have to ring up social security tomorrow, report my income--again. Stupid idiots can't keep track of anything--they (fed govt.) spent loads on refurbishing the social security office, but the service and the people who work there--worse then ever!!! Those people there, total idiots--and they don't have a spark of personality. I mean--what is it with government workers????

I think the USA requires all employees to get a personality lombotomy before they begin their employment. Government workers get on this conveyor belt, get trundled into a machine that sucks all their personality--and their sense of humour, out of their arse, and then spits them out again, clean as a whistle.

And just to finish the job--so people won't mistake them for androids, they reinsert special little pills up said body part, just to make sure they still resemble real live human beings--but only just.

But, that's just my opinion.

To go into solitude, to ponder, to discover, to be more than a mere observer--to go beyond that, and become a part of all you see and hear, smell, feel. To make each day of your life, a part of that on-going learning experience called, living.

To see life's dance, in the dewy, misty fields of dawn, to soar inside your heart, even as you watch a red-tailed hawk circle tirelessly into the pale blue heavens.

To trip over the edge of mystic reality, to rejoice in the music of the morning--the cheerful birdsong and busy crickets, the sighing of the tall grass, as it bends to the will of the lifting wind, just you and the earth and the sky.

I dedicated an entire blog entry to my growing up--and into adulthood, I might add--going to the drive-in movies.

I talked about those awful hokey intermission adverts--well, here's two--you decide!

THEY STILL SHOW THIS ONE (The guy with the soldier) AT THE GLEN DRIVE-IN HERE!

Yup! I remember these! Each drive-in had it's own set of intermission adverts/films, and these are just two examples that I found, that I well-remember.

I was in high school (9th to 12th yr) when this one was shown--think it was a one of the drive-in's across the Hudson River from Albany, NY that had it. I even remember the movie: Love Bug Goes to Monte Carlo--and, I think (but not sure) they also played it at the Latham Drive-in, up the road from us (we had a LOT of drive-in's where I grew up) the first time I saw Star Wars on the big screen. I remember, because a disco-themed intermission film was a bit of a novelty, believe it or not. What can I say? We were easily amused, back then.

If I could ask Mr. Tennant a question, it might be...(because I've had a lousy night on collections calls, have a toothache again, am tired, and well...honestly, I am in a very cheeky mood tonight)

Dear Mr. Tennant:

"Do you practice your "sexy" pose in your spare time? How many 'positions' do you do?"