I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

I'm sitting here, looking around at my possessions, trying to decide what to do. What to sell, what to keep...if I go out on the streets, I won't be able to take much with me. Can't afford storage, and even if i could, I can't afford a rental truck to take it there.

I've my horse and cat figurines, several small horse-related antiques, some odd bits and ends of old and new knick-knacks, my books, a couple of naff paintings, some old and new prints and posters, and decorative plates, my books, a few fake plants/flowers, some lamps, a little furniture--mostly used...not a heck of a lot else. I'd probably give sis my computer and maybe the TV/VCR that I am not using at all, at the moment.

While I have a handful of antiques, they're not worth much--all in all, I'd be surprised if the whole lot fetched more than 100 or 200 dollars (50 to 100 pounds, roughly), if sold in a moving sale here in the apartment...tho' if I took them to a country auction, they'd likely bring even less...sans commission.

Nope, Sotherby's wouldn't want my stuff, that's for sure.

I'm giving myself a week or two--try to get my head straight--but it, quite frankly...my whole situation, has gotten so untenable...I don't know...I'm worn out with living...it's hard to describe, to someone who's not been there--even if I fix this latest couple of problems--what will be next? For the last year and a half, there HAS always been a "next." And I'm just plain worn out, spiritually, physically and financially.

But...two weeks...I'm in a wait and see mode.

So, gotta' leave for work, soon. I'm making dinner now, and will stick it in the fridge to re-heat when I get home. Not sure fries (chips) and a burger will re-heat well in the microwave, but mentally, I'm so stressed and tired right now, and physically run down, that when I get home after ten at night, I'm frequently too tired to bother eating any dinner. This way, I won't have an excuse that I don't feel like messing about in the kitchen, all I'll need to do is nuke it in the ol' microwave for a few minutes.

The vines are gone from the front window--and is it ever hot in here! You'd not believe how those green things covering the front windows had kept the heat out of here. There's some really bad storms coming in--just in time for my little ten-minute stroll to work, tra-la. And me without an umbrella..ah well, such is life. Heaven knows I've been wet and cold more times than I can remember...it's not so bad, in fact, in this heat, it'll probably be quite refreshing.

I'm getting pretty good at walking though--well, it's really more of a fast limp...I'll probably never walk at my old rate of speed, but I've shaved five minutes off my journey, just in the last two weeks, so the foot is healing a little--or maybe I'm just getting really good at limping?

Whovian's unite: Sign the petition asking DT to stay on as 10:

http://www.petitiononline.com/837860/petition.html
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I was surfing for more info on Dr Who and Last of the Timelords, when for some reason, Google included the following piece in the search:

"Tennant's co-star Bille Piper has caused a stir by revealing she has nicknamed him "David Ten-Inch'.

But although Billie, who plays the Time Lord's companion Rose Tyler in the hit sci-fi series, knows the revelation will cause a stir, she is refusing to reveal whether or not she has actually seen his manhood."

His "MANHOOD?" Now, you could take that last sentence one of two ways, I'm thinking. The obvious of course, is that it's a reference to his little ol' do-hickey.

But then, one wonders, well..he does behave a little..light in the toes, sometimes...or am I the only one who thinks that? I mean, he was voted sexiest guy by some big gay oriented magazine. Maybe the guy's door swings both ways?

Now, unfortunately, I've seen pics of Tennant nude--which I've posted on this site by special request--not because I like cheap titalation--, a month or so ago--albeit, the full frontal one was at a distance, and he was running--or was he skipping? But...it looks more like a half-footer, to me...

"I think if I concentrate long enough, I CAN make it bigger!"

OKAY PEOPLE--chill out! This was just a j-o-k-e, really. I think the man's a fab actor--not as good as Derek Jacobi, but...a close second. His sexuality though, honestly, doesn't really factor into it, much---hey, I really AM an old maid--I ain't dead, I do look, but...not a big deal to me. I get just as much pleasure from watching a sunset or pitching horseshoes, trust me.

To be truthful, I'm not a huge fan of rap, never have been, never will be. But this clip was...erm...different.

A co-worker likes to take her boat out on Lake George. I don't know how she can afford it--not doing our job, but her husband works for the phone company, so they probably can. But with the high cost of petrol, the fact that most of these motor boats get about 5 miles to the gallon, and the 30 dollar fee they pay the marina, just to put the boat in the water...don't imagine they drive the thing very far.

In fact, I hear a lot of local boaters saying that much of the time, they just pilot out to a nice spot, drop anchor and sit and drink beer and chat the whole time--because they can't afford to motor about! And the whole point of buying a 5,000 to 30,000 dollar (2500 to 15,000 pound) motor boat is.....?

Lake George is a major local resort. Unlike nearby Saratoga Springs--which for over 150 years has been the playground of the wealthy types, Lake George is almost strictly blue collar (chav) and middle class---EXCEPT, if you live on the lakeside. THEN--mostly anyway, you are definitely rich--even filthy rich, in certain areas. Doctors, lawyers, CEO's, Wall Street stock brokers, politicians, business owners, celebrities, old money, new money.

Well, with all these people, there's a lot of boats on Lake George, come summer. A LOT of boats. From row boats and kayaks, to big motor boats and cruise boats, and some modest sized sail boats and small yachts, as well. However, it seems, this year, some guy brought in his yacht--his OCEAN GOING yacht. I mean, apparently, the thing's a monster! And...

...this rich guy's the laughingstock of the locals. I mean, Lake George is big, 32 miles long--but... not that big. The thing might work on Lake Champlain--which connects to the St. Lawerence Seaway--but, Lake George??? The thing looks hopelessly out of place here.

Seems some guy has a very big ego--and boat...and a very small..erm...dock?

PHOTO OF AN OCEAN-GOING YACHT

I had my hours switched, this morning, last minute. Now I'm to work tonight, and make up my day hours on Saturday--oh that's nice. No days off for me again, until Friday next week. Fan-friggin'-tastic.

But...I did manage to go back to bed for a couple of hours, after the call...until the boys stereo woke me, that is. They're really not bad guys, I don't think--just..well, kids.

"NORMAL" SIZE SAILBOAT, TAKEN LAST SUMMER, ON LAKE GEORGE

Yes, I'm still down and out.

Got more good news yesterday--now my other student lender is suing me to garnish my wages--and, the Social Security people are threatening to reduce my medical benefits.

The landlord is removing the vines from my windows--damn. I've found they help keep the sunlight out--and it's much cooler in here, because of them--and, I don't get the sun in my face while I'm sitting her--and it gives me privacy...still can't afford curtain for these big windows, no way. I had to buy fabric rmenants for the bedroom windows--and they were expensive, even then! The cost of curtains is huge! I can buy a quilt set or four pairs of jeans or a week's and a half's or two week's groceries, just for cheap curtains, for pity's sake.

I'm going to be late for work, so I'll probably have to work longer on Friday--normally my day off, when I work four 9 hour shifts and Part-time on Sunday. Last week, was the first time I'd had two days off--well, three, because I was ill Sunday, in well over a month. Back to one day off, this week. I'm so tired--I'm sick of being exhausted. I'd give an arm and a leg and part of the other arm, just to be able to go somewhere peaceful and quiet and just sleep for a whole day. Ah, not gonna' happen.

I realized, last night, that I'm not going to ever have a vacation again, probably. Not a proper one, at any rate. I've not had a holiday since winter of '04. But then, I've only had five real holidays in my entire life, so not missing much. I don't count Wyoming at 19--sure, I was in a national park, surrounded by natural wonders, wild animals and tourists--but, I was also usually working from 9 or 10 in the morning, till 9 or 10 at night, slaving over a room-size dishwasher, or taking out rubbish, cleaning loos, serving luke warm burgers to Japanese tourists or busing tables--oh, I still managed to have fun, but it was also hard, dirty work, most days. So, not really a holiday, in the true sense.

In my teens, my parents took me to Vermont, for an overnight trip. (my family's only one)

In my early 20's, I spent the weekend at a dude ranch here in the Adirondacks, and, a few years later, mum and I went on a weekend holiday at a small resort near Lake George.

In 2001, I had the overseas college seminar in the Netherlands, with an overnight side trip to Iceland..and then there was the good/bad college study trip to Egypt, in 2004. That's it. That's the sum total of all the "holidays" that I've had, in my lifetime. Not counting day trips, of course. Day trips I've had plenty of, over the years.

OLD FAITHFUL'S (Yellowstone Natl. Park) EMPLYOEE PUB--A LOT SNAZZIER LOOKING THEN WHEN I WORKED THERE, IN 1980! (It was just a little shed, back then.)

"OWWWW! My zipper's caught!"

"What, Jack? Erm---you want to shag me 'till the cows come home? Erm--that's, erm..nice."

"Em--sorry, that was me. Blame it on the curry I had for lunch."

Well, the little bast--nice boys upstairs had me up well past 2am, yelling, banging furniture--at one point hammering or something, playing the flippin' stereo. So now I have the joy of telemarketing, trying to sell stuff to hundreds of rude, daft Americans, with all of about 4 hours sleep--and a sore jaw. Gah! Can't wait to see a dentist--just rip 'em all out, for pity's sake, I don't care anymore. I feel, again, like someone's smashed me in the side of the face--and now I have to talk out of that same face for 9 hours today. Ah well, I love a challenge.

Checked my e-mails. Someone sent me a pic of David Tennant. What the...? Personally, I'd rather have a picture of a Friesian horse or a nice landscape scene or maybe a Vermeer or something. Well, to each his or her own. I know a lot of you ladies out there adore the man. I have no idea why I don't find the man sexually attractive, but then, I'm an old maid so...who cares?

Amazing how the guy lets himself go, when he's not filming. He'd fit right in, here in the Adirondacks. Heck, I can just picture him coming out of one of the dives (bars) down the way, on South Street (where all the chav bars are, in Glens Falls). Well, you be the judge--do you think he looks like a typical Adirondacker?

DAVID TENNANT

YOUR TYPICAL ADIRONDACK MOUNTAIN GUY

I didn't make a single sale, yesterday. Probably will have my hours cut, again. Maybe be I should go back to cleaning loos, for a living. I totally suck at selling--and the things I'm actually good at--surveys and college pledge drives---the company refuses to train me for. Maybe that's all I'm really good for, cleaning loos and vacuuming and tossing out full bin bags...I don't know, anymore. Maybe living on the streets will suit me. I'm not sure it even matters, any longer, what I do, or where I go. So what?

A hot sunny day has once again turned into a soft summer's night.

I love summer nights, when it's not too humid, when there's a breeze.

The sound of the leaves in the intermittent wind, stirring the soul with their caressing rhythm. Like waves gently, relentlessly, subtly, beating against the sandy shore. The sibilate sighing of the leaves, the gentle murmuring of life itself. Growing, moving, thriving.

The crickets are a a joyous chorus, acting as a counterpoint to the wind; delighted, lively, spirited music.

In the night, the tangle of human activity slows, voices become muted--except in exuberance
or anger--when these things become amplified by the stillness, seeming as out of place as an otter in a public swimming pool.

The summer night is for peace and temperance. It's for listening, reflecting and feeling content in the moment.

Sip your tea or coffee or wine, put on some soft jazz or Chopin or Carol King, or..something mellow. Or simply sit in the quiet softness, and listen to the night symphony.