I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Off for an exciting Sunday nite on Dix Avenue...pay a bill and do laundry till 10pm--yippee!

I feel like rubbish still, but a little better. Reckon my blood count's down again, and my heart's playing up a bit, as a result. Ah well...tough getting old. Nearly 3 years shy of fifty, and I feel like I'm seventy...not good, is it?

I'm a bit weary of reading about all these so-called "reality" shows...that honestly have zip to do with reality.

And, a lot of these shows are so incredibly negative--insults and cat fights...that's what the "public' wants? Then the public are bored little unimaginative morons.

Here's some more "positive" reality-show ideas:

"Gimme' A Break." A show where the public writes in about someone (not referring to me, by the way) who's had a tough time, and could use a break--a little lift--and the show is about giving the designated person or person a little treat of some sort.

"Animal Rescue"--follows the success story of a animal rescued from a bad home--from the initial save, to the animal becoming healthy and going to a new home.

"Real People." A programme that shows how low-income individuals, the elderly and families REALLY live--and producers at the end, present the person or family with a positive oppourtunity of some sort.

"Hidden Talent." A show that finds ordinary people with "hidden" talents--art, music, writing, crafts or cooking, and lets the audience judge who's the best. The top three finalists compete for a small monetary prize and a chance to display their work publicly.

"That's My Hobby." A programme about people and their unusual hobbies.

"Job Swap." Celebrities and/or execuitves trading places for a day, with an average worker, such as fast food, janitorial, telemarketing, animal caretaker, dishwasher, traffic warden, dinner lady, store clerk, lorry driver, binman, etc.

"I Have to Do WHAT?" A show where either ordinary people or celebrities, under close supervision for safety, are placed in a new situation (ie. non-cooks in a kitchen, non-riders in a stable, non-actors on a stage, etc) and they have to do the task required, in a set amount of time, with only 10 minutes of personal instruction, and a basic handbook to go by.

"I'll Take it!" People are given a room to decorate, and a limited amount of cash, and are sent to a boot sale or flea market, to buy stuff to decorate the room with--having to stay in budget.

I know, these are stupid ideas--and who knows? May have been done before, but, I'm bored and had nothing better to do. I don't even have television, ha-ha!

YOU WILL BE DELETED, IMMEDIATELY.

NO ONE WANTS YOU HERE. I'M SORRY, BUT THAT'S JUST THE TRUTH.

YOU ARE TOTALLY WASTING YOUR TIME, SO BUGGER OFF!

IF YOU BELONG TO BLOG.UK YOUR BLOG WILL BE FLAGGED, AND YOU WILL BE KICKED OUT.

(Note: written because some arse with the handle "greenhorse" just spammed me--didn't read the comment, because I NEVER read obvious spam--just hit the edit/delete button. Why do these totally brainless twits even waste their time like this? Life is short, and they sit there spamming people who won't even read their comments! What a waste of a life.)

Well, considering my illness has taken control of my life today, I'm amazed at myself for actually being able to even write today. Oh, I'll be okay...this sickness just likes to take over once or twice a week--fortunately, I've today off--well, mostly. Still have the chores and laundry to slog through--but, have several hours to myself, yet, to rest...which I'm about to do.

Set up a yet another blog, yesterday--which I'm still working on today, a bit. Just a recipe blog. Not sure why, just felt like it, last night.

So, here's my Accord Hospice blog entry for Sunday--Day 71. Just a reminder, the blog can be found by clicking the "100 STORIES" banner in my blog header.

You can find out more about Accord, its patients and its programmes, by going to their website: www.accord.org.uk

DAY 71

Deciding to go for a walk to clear his head, the writer headed out into the countryside. His stroll took him past a churchyard. Tired, he sat, leaning against a mouldery, tilted, marble headstone--and it moved slightly. A hand reached out from the grave…slowly, towards the unsuspecting writer. There was to be a sequel after all, but it wasn’t a movie.

Actor David Tennant films yet another bed scene--the difference being that this time, he actually has some clothes on--much to the disappointment of his female fans.

Adirondack mountains in the rain.

I remember once, a local artist saying that she was moving to New Mexico (because she found the desert to be more "colourful") to paint her landscapes, because the Adirondacks were "too green" in summer and "too brown" in winter. Well, you can't please everybody, ey?

I laughed to myself when I heard this. She calls herself an artist--and to be sure, she was quite talented--only things I can draw are a barn or a horse head or a pine tree...sort of...well..vaugely..well...they look like those things, if you hold them in the right light, I suppose.

But, you see, I laughed not at her, but at her vanity, her short-sightedness. For, I believe, beauty is everywhere, for those who choose to see it. Colours are there, all year round..but, you have to LOOK for them! In winter, all this woman sees are brown trees, brown grass (when it hasn't snowed)...I see, have seen, grays and silvers, many shades of brown and black, tan, blue skies, blue jays (birds), red berries, red cardinals (birds) and maroon-stemmed brush, green pines...white snow, white clouds...the blue of the distant mountains. You can see things in winter, that the full-leaved trees and brush, keeps hidden, during other parts of the year.

And yes, summers are very green, 'round these parts, what with billions of trees covering 40 million acres of mountain and valley. Grass..corn stalks, even some insects, are green. But..again, there's other colours as well. There's the gold of the dandelions, black-eyed Susans, golden rod, bread and butter flowers. The blues of asters, the orange of jewelweed, the birds--so many colours and sizes, the sky and waters, and..there's more than one shad of green, you know.

But, this artist didn't want to see the tapestry of life, in her own backyard--for the mere fact, that sometimes the colours jump out at you---but equally, sometimes you have to make the effort to find them.

Which brings me to another point. I realize now, that I have to make an effort, to re-discover the colours in my own life...find the good, no matter how small or well-hidden.

Okay, so my writing will never get me publish (got a pile of rejection letters 6 inches thick, that I just binned, not counting the rejection e-mails)...can't even afford to submit stuff, now, until I can manage the post office, printers (I don't have one), discs and envelopes, as well (plumb outta' everything, at the mo').

I've decided that after Accord gets done, on 29th Oct., I'm going to go on Helium and work on my feature writing again...and, yes, work on a play, as well--tho' the play is just for me, and like all the others, will never be meant for the public.

Anyway--that's the plan, barring anything more untoward happening to me. We'll see, I guess. I just know, I hate stagnation almost as bad as I had being alone--and if I can't move forward in my life, my job, if I can't get around very well...I at least can keep my mind active, ey?

I found this bit rather funny...

I hate the weekend, these days--oh, it's nice, getting to sleep a little later in the morning, but still...it's rarely a fun thing, weekends. My weekends, this year, seem to mostly consist of, either, lying in bed, trying to get well enough to get through another work week, or running around doing errands and household chores...not much else (except blogging.) Sometimes it's restful, sometimes stressful, ofttimes hopelessly boring...and always, always lonely. Yeah, I'd say sleeping in, is about the only good thing, about weekends, for me. Otherwise, just another day.

Oh, not feeling sorry for myself, just covering the facts. I didn't get to the laundromat this morning--overslept...alarm went off, but I fell back to sleep--I had to be to the laundromat by no later than ten, to get to work by 1pm. It takes forever to do laundry, without a washing machine--or, without a car. By adding in a cab--there's not only the extra cost of the fare (no bus routes pass by any of the local laundromats, except one bus, enroute to the community college--and that's only twice a day...once in the morning, once early evening. Stupid Glens Falls transport people...)

Anyway, there's the $8 to $10 round-trip cab fare, PLUS, the 30 to 50 minutes it takes, waiting to get a cab to pick you up, coming and going...add to that washing, drying and folding the clothes, packing them into and out of the cab, then, down the hall and up two flights of stairs, putting them away---you're easily looking at a good 3 to 4 hours of your day, thrown away. Gone forever, washing your dirties.

Then, you have it all to do, the next week or two...

Ever wonder how much of our lives are spent, doing things we don't want to do? A lot, in my case.

Ah well. At least I'll have clean knickers, this week, ha-ha.

I was asked, last night, why I don't write more Dr Who stories on my Accord Hospice blog. Well, I'd love to, but I decided that I might have a mixed audience, not all of whom might watch--or even know about--Dr Who. So, I made the decision to vary the stories, stagger they types of stories I write, to keep it from becoming too tedious or repetitive. And also, to appeal to a broader audience. Not that I have an "audience." 1 to 6 readers a day. Tho' I am delighted that my friends are nice enough to want to read the stories, really I am. I will say, I do get more readers when it's Dr Who or David Tennant I write about. Not sure why...must have something to do with the Google search or something?

But, I'm not moaning today. I've decided, my friend is right. I'm not going to sit here today, moaning that I have no life--I am going to go out and make my life....even if it means shutting myself away from the outside world, to save myself, it's what I have to do...just go and hide for a while, until I can get my act together again, or until something positive comes along. Build my own private fall-out shelter--oh, I don't mean hide, in the sense I'm going to stop living my life, or stop interacting with my internet/overseas friends...just that I will bury my sorrows for a while and just...learn to like stagnation.

Mind you, I'm not sure how, just yet, but I'm sure I'll think of something...I need a project--after Accord is done, to bury myself in--maybe a play, or maybe just find some good books to read, online or re-read stuff on my shelf. Maybe write some really bad poetry? Watch more Dr Who? I don't know...Yeah, I miss being out and about. With my scheduling at work, working as a volunteer is totally impractical, as I never know what my hours are--and lately, my health is making just simply things like shopping, quite a massive chore.

I'm tired, so think I'll go have a lie down. I was up late, last night, wracking my brains as to how to get more readers/sponsors for my Accord blog, but...nothing. I've tried all I can think of. I guess it's just not a big enough deal, that people are attracted to it. That's life, I guess. If all I get is one or two or five readers--well, at least someone's reading it, right? It's not like I'm doing this for me, anyway--well, I am, in a tiny way...but I hope, at least some people (besides my sponsors) have visited the site and found out more about Accord's wonderful work.

So, off to bed for a half-hour, than I have to tidy the apartment a bit. Hope you all have a pleasant day--see you tonight.

Got this weird e-mail in my box today:

drjohn01_booma9
CONTACT HIM THROUGH HIS EMAIL (eric_more@excite.com)

Nothing else, just that---oh, wait, there was an attachment--which I refuse to open. I'm willing to bet it's either a virus, a scam artist, or porn--or maybe, all three...but one of the main reasons I stopped using Yahoo so much, is these jerks and their stupid Spam....yahoo does a really crappy job, policing spammers, I've found. I throw people into the "spam" section--and two weeks later, the spammers are back--so Yahoo doesn't really weed them out well at all.

But, sorry---no. Not contacting anyone, I don't personally know, or whom isn't up front with mea about who they are, and what exactly he or she wants. Not gonna' happen in this lifetime, chum.

Did get a job offer--good job...but again, it's in Albany, 50 miles away...it would cost too much in bus fare, to go there each day--about $30 to $40 (15 to 20 pounds) a day, to get there..not to mention, having to lose a day's pay, and pay bus and cab fare, just to get to the interview!

The job is as a call centre rep for a loan company--10 to 12 dollars an hour to start (I'm presently making $7.92 an hour--WAS making $9 an hour, before the pay cut), but still..I'd be nuts to even consider it---bus schedules being what they are, I'd be gone from half-past six in the morning, to 10 pm at night, five or six days a week--and, be shelling out roughly $150 a week in transport cost, for the privledge! Thanks, but no thanks. I'd not mind the hour to hour and a half commute to Albany, but the waiting around bus stations for hours, and the high cost of bus fare--even with a discounted commuter ticket--not worth it.

I read this...and I had a long chuckle. Just wanted to share it with you...

Lord Nelson is on his flagship, HMS Victory, and the lookout shouts "Spanish Armada on the Port bow", Nelson shouts for his cabin boy and says "go to my cabin and bring me my three cornered hat, my telescope and my red coat".

A couple of days later the lookout shouts "Spanish fleet on the Port bow." Nelson looks and thinks 'oh shit' he shouts for his cabin boy and says to him " bring me my three cornered hat, my telescope and my brown corduroy trousers."

Ten more:

1. A day without sunshine--is cloudy.

2. The fastest way to double your money: fold it in half and put it in your wallet.

3. 100,000 sperm, and they got you?

4. I don't want shampoo--I want real poo!

5. Death is hereditary, you know.

6. George Bush stopped to think...and forgot to start again.

7. If you believe in telekinesis, raise my hand.

8. If a Smurf is choking to death, what colour does it turn?

9. Join the army: Meet interesting new people--then kill them all.

10. Very funny, Scotty. Now, beam down my clothes.

Not much to say, tonight. Got out of work, went and did my shopping--got up to the service desk to pay my cable/phone bill, electronically, and...forgot the blasted bill! So, now I have to go in tomorrow or Monday.

So, I came home, put the shopping away (mostly), sat down--and immediately got a massive leg cramp in my left leg--I mean, massive: toes to bottom massive..even started to go into my back...then it went away, eventually..then, about 20 minutes on, it came back...and let me tell you...it HURTS!!!

I haven't a clue why this just started in like this. I've been getting foot cramps, at night sometimes--with suggestions by a co-worker that it might be menopause, and by someone else, that the foot cramps might be related to my low blood count...and yet another person suggested that it's lack of certain vitamins and/or minerals, that do it, and sometimes dehydration, as well.

So many opinions--but no suggestions on how to make the damn foot/leg stop! But, it is about troubling--very rare to have this happen, merely sitting up. My left leg and foot are badly swollen, and my left toes are a bit numb, as well. Ironically--it's my right foot/leg, that has the most damage to it, and usually it the one that gives me so much grief, sometimes. I don't know why the swelling---but, I have the rest of the night to rest it, and hope it goes away.

I have a busy Saturday ahead of me--working from 1 to 4, and going to the laundromat (too wet and cool this weekend, to lay out the washing on the balcony rail to dry) on Saturday morning, as well. But, I have all of Sunday off--and your truly plans to spend much of it in bed, getting some badly needed rest, before slogging through my job from 10 to 7 on Monday. At work, I only get (when I'm working 5+ hours, or not working a split shift) a half hour for lunch and two ten-minute breaks, all day.

So, I have a story to write, and another chapter to add to my Dr Who fiction site. I think I might dump my new blog...I don't know...or set up a really private blog somewhere, on an ever more obscure website. I thought Blogger was pretty obscure, but apparently not. It still baffles me--I mean, really, it does perplex me, why I've attracted such a following--especially in light that most visitors don't comment...or even stay long...maybe it's the "Lead?" (Blog title.) Maybe it's the pictures? I don't know.

I miss college English tho'---I miss the critiques (the contructive kind)...I feel like my writing has been lacking, of late. I miss having someone sit down, and go over the fine points with me--both good and bad. It's how I learned to write, really.

Ack! Darn it! The empty-headed teen upstairs is having a party again...and the stereo being positioned, apparently, on the floor right over my bed...well, forget sleep for a while...meh, too hot in here, anyway--85 F in my little bedroom--yukky sleeping weather....strange weather actually, for late September, especially in light of the fact that just over a week and a half ago, I think, it got below freezing one night, and we had snow flurries up in the mountains--now today, it was in the mid-80's F, and bad thunderstorms and rain and very humid. Very odd, that.

But, it will be normal--weatherwise, in a day or so again. I signed up to work some overtime on Saturday--this weekend was SUPPOSED to be my last full weekend off--no chance of that now. Starting Saturday, I'm back to one day off now. But, I messed about with my schedule, and--if approved, I only work, next week, 2 hours friday, and two hours Saturday, with Sunday off....of course, to do that, I have to work four 9 hour days in a row, Monday straight through, and the other three days, the old 10-3, 5-9 split shift. Ah well, at least I won't be selling memberships, but doing collections, which is pretty easy and straight-forward, and I know the script by heart.

I don't mind working weird hours--in my lifetime, I work every sort of schedule imaginable---I've gotten to work at 4am from one type of job(s), and gotten home at 4am from others...worked 1st, 2nd, and 2rd shifts, 9-5, split shifts...last summer and early autumn, I worked 7 days a week, for over a month and a half. I mean, it's not like I have a life, is it? But, I must say, when, health-wise, and emotionally, you're not 100% yourself, it's really a tough, working crazy hours, sometimes, let me tell you. I really feel genuinely old, of late.

Yup, next week it's back to ringing up America, coast-to-coast. Oh what a joy. I'd run away up the road aways (okay, a 150 some-odd miles up the road), to Quebec, or hop one of those frieghters down to the Port of Albany, and take off for parts unknown--but, the cats would miss me--and, truth-to-tell, I'd miss them.

Tomorrow's my last day in the business-to-business department. The company choose to hire outside help, rather than promote people already working within the company, which pretty much speaks volumes about the new chav Indian owners, I think. Anyway, they have all new people, so I'm chucked back to the slums of selling memberships and doing collections, and being a part-time, benefit-less, crap wages, chav shit-worker. I love my job, can't you tell?

I did have something really, really funny, happen today.

For the last 3 weeks, I've been shifted to the business-to-business department, getting leads for salesmen. Well, one of my jobs, is, when a number comes up bad, or I get a fax tone or whatever--is to go into the internet, and check and see if there's another listing for the company.

Well, in this case, the company I was looking up, the number on the webpage, matched the number I had, which was disconnected. So, it was a bad lead--and what advert banner appeared below the contact information for the defunct business?

"Stop chasing bad leads and list with us..."

That was too funny!!!

I mean, what are the chances of that? I just cracked up--and so did my coworkers.

___________________________________________________________________________________

I would love to write my friends overseas--but it costs over $6 in cab fare just to go to the post office for air mail stamps, so I can't afford to go there (too far to walk).

Someone asked why I've never written a fan letter to David Tennant.

Well, for one thing, can't afford it, and for another, I doubt it would even get read--and what would I say, and why would he care what I think? I don't even live in the UK. And, truth to tell, I've not written a fan letter in decades.

But, I thought, well, since I can't write the man privately, why not just blog the letter--oh, I know he'll never read it, but, at least I'll be able to say, what I have to say, and..I save 7 dollars, in the process, ha-ha, which is 5 dollars more than I actually have, at the moment.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Dear Mr. Tennant,

I just wanted to thank you for taking on the role of the Doctor. You have given me countless hours of joy, in your portrayal of my favourite TV character of all time.

You are one of the most versatile, deep and energetic young actors I've ever had the pleasure to watch. It's clearly obvious that you have really worked hard to perfect your craft. You seem, in the few interviews I've seen, like a charming and well-spoken gentleman.

I would also like to express my deepest sympathies in regards to your recent loss. Having lost both my parents, I know you've likely had a tough row to hoe this summer, and I am glad to see that you seem to have a lot of caring, supportive people around you.

Best wishes I extend to you as well, for your upcoming role as Hamlet. I've never had the honour of seeing it live, but I'm sure your performances in this great work, will be truly memorable.

Thanks for sharing your talent with us, N. (playwrite27)

(PS: I choose this pic especially for my new blog-friend, "Jenna.")

Autumn wasn't always a sad time for me.

So often, I could almost see my reflection, in seasons, in the tapestry of the brilliant leaves, I saw the tapestry of the life around me...the whirling winds were complementary of my urge to fly--- to take wing, and follow the wild cry of the geese wining southward, my spirit soaring with the sound. The restless clouds urging me to grow, to change, to stride towards tomorrow, the next sunrise, the next month, the next year of my life.

Tho' I don't feel that way any longer--still, it's there, I think, the wilding spirit, somewhere buried inside me.

Well folks, I have story #69 to write, and a post to put on my Dusty's Dr Who Fan Fic blog, and then...off to bed I go.

Stormy night, here. Lost power at work, couple of times--and lights flickering here, so wrapping it up, soon. I got soaked coming home--we were staring out the windows of our building, at the storm, early this evening. Everyone in the office jumped at least once--all these big whopping bolts of lightning, cloud-to-ground...quite a show, let me tell you. I'm not a big fan of lightning, mind, having been mildly shocked by a bolt, years ago...not a fun experience, even tho' I was relatively unharmed by it.

So, a few one-liners I found on the internet, to end the night with (if you have others, chime right in, don't be shy)

1. If a number 2 pencil is the top seller at the stationer's, why is it still #2?

DAVID: "I'm NOT an anorak!" Riiight, David, sure matey...

A scene from just across the NY state border, in the Green Mountains of Vermont, less than one hour drive from where I live.

Thanks to all, for your concern--it does indeed mean a great deal to me.

I am going through a very rough patch, emotionally, and physically, at the moment.

First, my illness(es), often leave me weak and light-headed. I don't know what it is...it may be something minor, or it may be cancer--I just don't know--and, truthfully, I honestly don't want to know.

I'm NOT suicidal. Honestly, no. So put your fears to rest. That said, I'm not going to obsess with my health, either. I'm not going to kill myself, but, if old mother nature wants to do it for me, I'm not going to stand in her way. But...I don't think what I've got is serious. As long as I take my iron and vitamins, I should be okay. But yes, physcically, I am very, very worn down, right now, and am really struggling just to do the basics: go to work, do the washing, pay bills, feed myself. Some days, I feel pretty good--almost my old self again, other days...I can barely move at all, without feeling like I'll pass out. It's just the way things go, I guess.

I have to work long days, in order to make enough to squeak by on--my paycheck is all the money I have, and at present, my net worth is quite literally less than $2. The worry over finances--and the discouraging fact that every single blessed time I start to get the barest smigeon ahead--the financial rug is yanked out from beneath me again--time and time again...for more than two blinking years. Well, that is a little upsetting, at times.

And at work, all the talk around me is of parties, and holiday plans and shopping and dining out...and that depresses me, as well.

And, added to all the above, is the fact that the anniversary of my mum's death is approaching, in November, and of course, there's a lot of very bad memories rustling about my sub-conscience.

Most of all, I am tired of being physically alone, nearly every day of my life (excepting the cats.) A human being needs to be needed, wanted. Work doesn't really need me--I'm in a job where I'm highly replaceable. And reality check: I don't attract friends. I just don't. I never have. I have one or two, for a while, then they move on, and I'm alone again.

Oh, I have friends--am blessed, as a matter of fact, with good friends, whom I care a great deal for--but, not one of these friends has ever met me, physically. And, as much as I adore my friends...I am getting so, I crave physical contact...and, I just know that that cannot be. It me, I repel people, I think. I don't know.

Being alone, it sucks. I don't mind being alone a lot--it's the being alone every single day, for the rest of my lifetime, that's unbearable, sometimes.

Without a car or funds, I'm pretty much stuck where I am. I'm stuck in neutral, forever. And knowing that....it's hard. It's depressing the hell out of me.

No one can help me out of this, I don't think. I'm on my own, here. What I need is change--positive change, or someone who actually wants me around, or something...but, there's nothing. I've been looking for a new job for 9 months, and the only offers I get, are either too far away for me to get to, or they want me to invest money in some way.

My foot injury from back in spring, has made standing and/or walking tiring and painful, so that now limits--very much limits, what sort of jobs I can apply for.

So, sorry if I've caused you worry--I guess I am just feeling sorry for myself, that's all. I am not one who likes stagnation. It goes badly with me, to just be a do-nothing all the time...but, I'm stuck. And it is really tough to deal with--the illness, the finances, the stagnation and the being alone...and sometimes I just get so, I wonder how I can bear to life a long life. Again, NOT suicidal...just...pragmatic, about my present and future.

To me, a "normal" life--shopping for clothes or any type of food I want, going out somewhere with someone, dining out, conversations, holiday and birthday celebrations, college, a rewarding job, traveling, driving a car, having a vacation (holiday), going to doctor's--and having someone with me, when I'm ill...I will NEVER have any of this again...and yeah, the realization of this, just plain scares the hell out of me.

Another empty day...personally, I don't care about growing old or looking young, or any of that nonsense that seems to obsess so many people, nowadays. One day is like another, and, from where I'm sitting--still in an uncomfy old chair, as the sofa never materialized ( )--what difference does it make, what I look like, or how old I become...nothing matters. It's all the same, one way or another. Birthdays and holidays and how I look or dress--no matter at all. I might as well not even exist, truthfully. In this city, I am a stranger among strangers--even amid the people I work with every day, I am almost a non-entity. I am an invisible person, so why care about anything much?

I didn't feel much like making breakfast, but was a little hungry, so I just cracked an egg, dumped it on top of a slice of toast, slapped a piece of cheese over it, and nuked it in the microwave--bleh. I hate runny egg...oh well, stuck with it now. It's eat it or go hungry.

Bleh. That's my life. That says it all, I think.

It's been pouring buckets all night--then, out of the blue---FLASH-BANG!

Made me jump, it did. Now there's a fire siren going off, in the western part of town, in the direction of the strike, so I reckon that sucker must've hit something.

Arrrghhh!!!!!!!

I HAVE to write story #68 for my Accord Hospice writing marathon....

and, I can't think of one blinking thing to write about!

I HATE THAT!!!

I've tried so hard to write a story every day--but I fear Day 68 and Day 69 may run together, for once---I am so upset right now--I feel so gosh-darn STUPID!

I hate feeling stupid. It's the #1 worst thing in the world, emotionally, for me, feeling like a moron.

I'm so disappointed in myself. I could just throw this stinking keyboard, I'm so mad at myself. I'm stupid tonight. I just...blank. Blank, blank, blank.

I've tried EVERYTHING! I've used every trick I know and have learned, and, pardon my language, but...shit. I'm poo, tonight. And I just want to go to bed and cry.

This writing thing is the only thing I have to give me something to, basically, live for, and I'm messing it up. It's the only thing that makes me feel human, less invisible. And I am rubbish! I hate myself tonight, can't you tell?

DON'T WORRY. I'll get over this. I just hate feeling stupid, and hate giving up, and hate going to bed, knowing I probably won't think of anything tomorrow either, because I'm just too damn worn down and sick and exahusted.

Two more 9 hour days to slog through tomorrow....no holidays, no sick days, nothing. Just work until I die...who'd ever think I'd look on death as a holiday? Only one I'm gonna' get.

I'm sick of hearing my co-workers planning their vacations and holidays and parties...I am so tired of it. I'm sorry, I'm really, really fed up with living, and am very down tonight--I think I'm just over-tired, and unwell and overwhelmed, and just...I'll get over it. I usually do.

I'll likely delete this post, later on. But gosh, I'm sick and I'm tired. I only have Saturday off, too...as I think I go back to my "hell" schedule--3 1/2 hours on Saturday and 10 hour split shifts, next week.

"What do you mean, I'm 'too ribby and freckled' to be in a James Bond Film?"

I do admit, that I wonder, sometimes, about life, about humanity.

What do we value most, and why? (Write on one side of the paper only.)

Do we most value, the hand that designed and built a magnificent building, the actor on the stage who transforms words into life and magic, the driver of a race car, who defies all odds and wins the race?

Or, do we most admire the person who first dreamed of, and then commissioned the magnificent building? The playwrite's soul from wence the idea and words of the play came, or the man who first envisioned the design of that winning racecar?

Do we stand in awe, of the man who pushes the plunger that brings down a once-grand building? The critic who, with relished venom, pans the play and/or the actor, the losing race driver, who survives--or doesn't survive--a bad wreck?

Maybe, there's a little of all of those, in all of us. I don't know.

Oh...get yer minds outta' the gutter, he-he.

This is just a quick note to say good morning to all my friends.

Gonna' be a tough day--10 hour shift, straight on through...and before I even get ready for work, I have to finish up the laundry here, make breakfast, lunch and...dinner (in the slow cooker), clean the litter box out and feed the cats.

THEN, I can change for work and go slog through another day.

I wrote story #67 last night, for Accord. There's that, I guess, to keep me feeling like a human being, still. My sponsors have helped raise the equivalent of $200 dollars, since I began this story-writing journey back on 22nd July (hoo-ray for my sponsors!)...and tho' I've only been averaging about 3 or 4 readers a day, these last several weeks, weirdly, on Tuesday, I had 16 readers...not sure where they came from, but glad to have them--now if they'd just donate something (hint-hint) so I could reach my 250 pound ($500) goal, by 29th October...

I'm worried sick (as in sick to my stomach with worry) about making the rent in October. I do wish I were someone else, somewhere else, wish it with all my heart. Anywhere but here, now.

It's hard, going through each day, knowing your life will never get better, that this is all there is, all there ever will be. I've been trying for months, to find a better job--but..no takers. I'm rubbish. No one wants me. Even in my own office, I'm nothing, just a bottom in a seat, no shot at ever being anything more than a low-paid chav human donkey. And I wish with all my heart it weren't so--but if wishes were horses, I'd have a saddle on my Friesian and cantering off into the sunrise, right about now.

Well, despite the big fire at the studios in Italy, looks like the Pompeii episode of Dr Who will be one to really remember...hope I'll get to see it, as I love anything to do with ancient Rome--fascinating history.

height="38" width="41" id="EXim" alt="eXTReMe Tracker" />

"What d'ye mean, The Proclaimers are breaking up?"

I am better today, than the last several days--but still feel less than great. I'm so incredibly weary. I'd sell my soul just to sleep for a few days, honestly I would. Satan take me, I would. But, no sick pay, no holiday pay...just have to tough it out. At least I can see properly today, and don't feel lightheaded like I have these last few days. But, as God as my witness, I am so very, very tired. If I had sick pay, I wouldn't have to work an extra hour, each day this week, to make up for the lost hours, yesterday. Life sucks, don't it tho'? I hate being a bottom feeder.

--erm, I mean, "hand-in-a-jar." Sorry.

I was in a Doctor Who forum recently, and started a thread on the topic of the Doctor's severed hand, and the parting shot of it, sitting on the control room floor of the Tardis, at the end of Episode 13.

It's being debated whether the shot was intentional or not, and whether we've seen the last of the "hand-in-a-jar."

Of course, this has prompted a whole entire slew of "hand" jokes and puns--some not publishable on the forums. I'll leave those one's to your imagination.

Well, we were discussing what the heck the Doctor was going to do with the darn thing--with suggestions from regeneration, to repelling aliens to nothing at all..stick it away on the shelf somewhere, like great auntie's gallbladder.

But you know I said in response to the "he's putting it away for safekeeping," bit...I said, without meaning to be funny, that, "it's not like he's attached to it, any longer." Then, a split second after I wrote that, I realized what I'd said...oh, this hand-in-a-jar thing really can get away from you, can't it tho'?

THIS is why I think some young people should go to trade school instead of college...

(taken from a fan website forum)

Ok so it was like a normal day at collage. Me and my new friends ( which for people who know collage was not going well now it is going great ) anyway and we just had are first lesson with mandy ( tutor teacher and are child-care teacher) anyway we then had are other teacher called lauran and jane (new friend) said to me that she was drunk last thurday and got sended home !!! i didnt belive her at first and she said she didnt belive what that person said until today !!!

I cant belive what happed tho !!! unbelive i never seen a teacher like that !!!

four more days to go. I left work four hours early, because my illness was making work hard--couldn't see the computer screen, and kept dialing wrong numbers. Unfortunately, an hour and a half into my post-work nap, the rug upstairs decided to blare the stereo--and not answer his telephone. Hell of a way to wake up from a sound sleep--"boom-boom" vibrating over your head.

And adding insult to injury is the fact that now I have four hours to make up at work this week--which means, yup, I have to work an extra hour every day. That. S-u-c-k-s.

Oh well, no hope for it, I suppose.

While sleeping, I had a nice dream, tho'. I dreamed I was living in the UK somewhere, and I was on the Dr Who set--and David Tennant and Russell T. Davies..and my mum. were there, and I'd just written something for Dr Who or something like that and we were all at this party on a beach, in the rain...weird dream but a very, very nice one. Almost like going on a little holiday, that was--almost..ha-ha

I know I'm never going to see the UK or ever meet anyone from Who, or ever have my writing published (my 100 story blog only gets less than 5 readers per day)..but, it's nice that my heart's desires come alive when I'm sleeping, at least.

"NO MATTER WHAT, YOU NEED IT FOR, YOU'RE APPROVED! CAR-SPENDING CASH-HOME LOAN, NO MATTER WHAT YOUR SITUATION, YOU ARE PRE-APPROVED FOR A LOAN!"

Horse. Pucky.

Oh, the temptation! There was a time, actually, when I was naive and stupid enough, to buy into this nonsense.

Not that I wouldn't mind having money to shop with, right now--I mean, that would be like winning the lottery, being able to buy whatever food, however much food, I want. Being able to buy clothing and stuff, go to the laundromat, being able to dine out, being able to go to a doctor, or dentist, or optician, oh yeah, and being able to take a bus to Saratoga or Albany--or even New York City--for the day--maybe even get a used car...oh yeah, the siren's call...

NO.

NO one just "loans" you cash, without checking your credit--if they do, then be prepared to spend 100 dollars to get 50 dollars.

Strap yourself to the mast and ignore the credit scam siren's call!

Someone e-mailed me a short interview Mr. Tennant had done, and in it, he mentions that he "doesn't like to talk" about his "private life." Okay, fair enough--quite understandable, really.

But, I sort of gave a chuckle, when I'd read David Tennant's statement about his private life--you see, before I really even got to more or less know the gentleman (I mean "know," as in know him as an actor/celebrity), I read about him offering to show a female radio DJ his red Calvin Kline designer underwear, that he'd worn for a couple of days at a rock festival, which was, apparently at the time of the conversation, lying on the bedroom floor. Erm---forgive, but...that's not private?

Oh, and someone else pointed me to an guest spot he did, that was on YouTube, earlier this year, in which Mr. Tennant discusses--on national television, faking an orgasam (for a movie, to be fair), and how he feels about his face appearing on Dr Who underwear ("My face in your crotch.") Erm---I take it Mr. Tennant doesn't feel that's private, as well?

He's even discussed the size of his woo-hoo, and his passion for passing gas before doing a big scene--

And has said--or so I've read, that his girlfriend likes him to dress up as the Doctor in the the bedroom, as that really turns her on...

Which leaves this rather old-fashioned genuine old maid wondering...

Just what the hell is considered "private" information, nowadays???

Morning Poem by Mary Oliver

from Dream Work (1986) by Mary Oliver

"fill the gaps."

Church nurses aim to fill in U.S. health care gaps

"It's the most exciting form of nursing that there is," she said. "This is not a field of nursing you go into to retire. You go to give life, and to share in life."

Our nation's constitution strictly forbids the federal government from inflicting faith-based rules on the population. This law, goes all the way back to the religious persecutions of early protestants in England and elsewhere in Europe. It's meant to protect citizens from rules based solely on religious bias, and not on fact, common sense or scientific law.

George Bush has more and more frequently--despite his pseudo-patriotic flag waving--ignored, or outright ripped the American Constitution to shreds.

Well, thankfully, states still have a say--to some small extent, over whether they will put up with Bush's right wing neo-con fake Christian bullshit.

N.Y. says no thanks to federal abstinence funds

ALBANY, N.Y. (AP) - New York state is saying "no thanks" to federal grants aimed at promoting teen chastity.

(Copyright 2007 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)

10 Possibilities:

1. "Didn't I mention the spy cam?"

10. Now, how 'bout helping practice my genetic transfers?

Ran across this video, it's not half bad--has a good message, I think, and the singing isn't half bad.

The Old West was an exciting place--but, it was also, horribly brutal.

The "Wild West" as we know it, lasted from the early 19th century, well into, in some regions, the early 20th century. It's "hey-day," being from the 1850's to the early 1890's, many areas still saw violence, outlawry and bloodshed, well into the early 1900's.

Before I go any further, if you have a weak stomach, you may not want to read this next bit.

This is an actual true account, of an occurrence down south of the border way, in Mexico, where the Yaqui Indians where raiding ranchos and farms, and massacring and terrorizing the people who lived there.

The Washington Post / Dec 8, 1902

In the presence of Wilson, the Yaquis, with dull saws, cut off the feet of "California Dan" just above the ankles. After this they unbound him and told him to go back to duty to Torres. By goading him, they compelled him to walk beyond their intrenchments, only to fall dead in the bush, 100 yards beyond their stronghold. The next morning the Yaquis took the body of "California Dan" and suspended it from the limb of a tree growing by the road. Wilson was then released and told by the Mexicans to bury the body.

Though I am unwell today, I'm going to carry on, as usual.

It sometimes makes me wonder, just how progressive humankind has really gotten--oh, we've become giants of technological wonders--but, what about the basics--our senses, our thoughts and feelings...just simple contemplation?

In a supposedly "free" society, we are not constrained in out thinking...mind and matter and the world around us--we are universally free to think whatever fancies pass through our gray matter. And oh, what fancies can we think of?

The meaning of life? The wonders of the earth, of the universe? The events of the past, and how they've shaped the future? The words of Shakespeare, Plato, Descartes, Steinbeck, Karl Marx, Thomas Jefferson, Winston Churchill, and all those others who came before us? Do we look to the stars, and reflect on the future? Do we listen to the life around us? Listen to a wide range of music. see all that there is for us to see, and try to comprehend the experiences of others, the complexities of the world around us?

No. We yammer on about texting, diets, Big Brother, Lost, sex, celebrity scandals, the latest video game, what we had for dinner, crude jokes heard on the radio or tele, and all that.

Why? Because we're human. By our very ordinary existence, we are, ourselves, extraordinary. What were the chances of us ever being created, in the first place? What were the chances of that one little variation in the primate gene pool, that made us what we are?

Why do archeologists get all excited over finding pre-historic chewing gum, petrified poo and 1000 year old loo's? Because that's who we are, the human race. We are the Shakespeare's and Churchhill's and Jefferson's and Florence Nightingales'...but we're also the housewives, bin collectors and homeless wino's as well. And there's far more of the latter, than of the former.

We sometimes do nothing at all, for our entire lives, just take up space, eat, do our business and die--and, even more sadly, some human beings will cause more harm than good...and yet, sometimes, we do something magnificent; have a child, create a unique work of art, or performance or writing, change the course of a nation, or history, save a life, show kindness to someone in need--perhaps even a total stranger....and that's the best of humanity.

I remember being told, once, of a man in China--a political prisoner, jailed for his writings. In prison, he kept writing--so the authorities took his paper away from him...so he began writing on the walls of his cell--then they took away his pencil...but that did not deter him, for the man continued to write---in his imagination. In his mind he had a pencil still, and in his imagination, he wrote letters to his wife, and wonderful poems.

And that, is the miracle, of huumanity...through our minds, and hearts, spirits and souls, we have a bridge to the universe...bars and constraints become transparent. The wonder of all that is, all that was, and all that is to be--is ours to hold, in the palm of our hands--and our only bar to this, is the chains which we place on ourselves--the only thing holding us back from thinking and feeling and knowing--is, ultimately, ourselves.

Lovely day here, sunshine and blue skies and gentle temperatures. And, I'm stuck here, once again super-glued to Glens Falls. Oh well. No big deal.

Hope you all have a good Sunday.

I drew a blank again, tonight, on what to write for the Accord Hospice story blog, then just threw up my hands and wrote a daft Dr Who story...pure mush. There's still so much moaning and pining after Rose--both by the Doc on screen, and by many fans, off-screen, (but NOT by me, okay? Loved Billie--she did a cracking job in the part, but could take or leave Rose, truthfully--just couldn't relate to her very well..nice character, I just..I dunno'.)

Anyway, Sunday's story is pure rubbish--just plain mush. But, at least it's done. Only have about 4 readers a day, so I'm just writing stories to please myself, now. And a Dr Who story is pretty easy--well, in the sense that the characters are already established, and I don't have to make them up from scratch.

So, off to bed, busy day tomorrow. Hope all my friends wake Sunday, with a smile.

I'm struggling to keep my internet service, for I will be sorely put out to lose it--it's not only my lifeline to the outside world--and, of course, to my friends--through the internet, I can apply for jobs, find information, publish my writing--and read.

Oh yes, there are books online--wonderful books--free for the reading.

Right now, I'm reading The Adventures of Gerard, by Conan-Doyle, and, (a little at a time) also, Child of the Storm, by H. Rider Haggard.

What a true blessing books are--I have my books at home, of course, but they've been read--and often, re-read, many times, over the years...and as much as I love them...well, one craves something new, doesn't one? It's only human, I suppose.

I hope someday, I will be able to pay off the debt to the library, for the books that were lost after mum died. But, that looks to be a long time in coming, I reckon. In the meantime, whilst I still have the internet, I still have new adventures awaiting me, at the click of a mouse.

Nearly 10pm here, and I've not had dinner yet--not that hungry, really.

What's on the menu? Hot dogs! Haven't decided whether to have fries or chips with them (chips or crisps), though...hmmmm--decision-time...

Well, America, it seems, is going to look a whole lot different, fifty to 150 years from now. Seems the ocean is going to rise by a meter, and there's not one itty-bitty little thing anyone can do about it---except spend billions of our tax dollars, trying to save what they can.

One meter of sea level rise in just the lower 48 states would put about 25,000 square miles under water---tho' the federal government's Environmental Protection Agency is downplaying that (naturally), to 22,000 miles....but what they don't say, in THEIR report, is that they only surveyed the east coast--and not inland areas or the west coast, or Alaska or Hawaii.

Basically, America is going to down the old evolutionary drain--glug, glug.

The above artwork is basically an accurate depiction of the look Charlie is giving me, these days, whenever he knows I'm going out...he's gotten into the bad habit of getting up close to me, and looking like he's going to break out sobbing (if a cat could sob)...then, he follows me to the door, and tries to either prevent me from leaving--or tries to follow me out into the hallway. Poor wee tyke, he's finally snapped out of his pout (the "you don't love me anymore" one he took on, when we moved in November and he lost his buddy Red)--now I've got a cat desperate to be loved and held--and if I don't, he starts in again with the "You don't love me..." face--which makes me feel a right old meannie, it does. Cats. I love 'em, but sometimes....

"Well," he said, "It does spend a lot of time in my trousers, it's stiff and upright, and the tip glows when it's turned on."

Why is it, more people--sometimes twice as many-- read my blog when I am not on here--then when I am writing stuff?

Odd, very odd.

One fine day, Whovian the pirate monkey went out to snog some cow. Everything was going fine until she ran into her archnemesis, the Doctor, in a tunnel. 'Nibbles!!' said the Doctor, 'did you just snog some cow?' Whovian simply replied 'Felgercarb! !' and pulled out her sonic hagis. Whovian and the Doctor waltzed and Farted until they were drunken. But then they realized the folly of their ways, and patched things up over a big bowl of Starbuck's ice cream.

http://piratemonkeysinc.com/pirate/interactive.htm

a certain friend in Kent--you know who you are, buddy, and good luck with the show. And, to freeasthewind and Normalguy--because I do understand.

To relax after my eventful day, I went out on the balcony for a while, with the three cats for company--they adore chillin' out there, with me. They lay around, checking out the activity on the street below, roll around, wash themselves, just lay there, contented little souls that they are.

I used to be like that--not so much any more, much to my strong regret. Alas, too much hardship, pain and sorrow, has passed under the bridge between my teenage years and now. I fear I may never feel that way, ever again...and it makes me feel old and sad, sometimes, knowing that.

Oh, I feel that way still--but only for a few fleeting moments--then it's gone...fluttering past my nose, like a migrating monarch butterfly.

Tonight, I gazed at the cerulean skies, wispy clouds--looking very much like the foaming waves on the ocean of the heavens. The yellow half-moon, floating upwards in the southeast, on it's journey to the morning sun.

How I long to be free again, from the heavy chains of living, to just sit, and watch and listen again, without the worries of life barging into my thoughts like a car alarm at 4am.

Gordon Brown, it seems, wants Britons to come up with a new national motto.

(Before anyone blows a gasket--I'm just having fun, I really do like the U.K., and I especially adore my U.K. pals).

Here's a preview of a few of the rejects:

"If you're wet, you must be British."

"Yeah, I'm British--piss off!"

"Great Britain: Home of Doctor Who and Man United"

Or, alternately,

"Great Britain: Home of Monty Python and Arsenal."

"We've got a Queen and a Prime Minister--what've you got?"

"We're not perfect, but At least we don't have George Bush."

"Fart if you're British."

Anyone got any more ideas?

I'm not feeling great, tonight, so I'm importing this entry from my "anti-blog.uk" blog," that I wrote a semi-happy ending added on, that wasn't in the original:

Geez---I could really go on a bender tonight.

I had an okay day at work--but, had to go to the food pantry this afternoon. There, the social worker grilled me, before she allowed me food, I got very snarky remarks like--"You're working?" and, "Oh, you're not using your pay cheque for your food?" "No," I replied, "I am using my two pay checks--this week's and last's--to pay my rent and utilities." "Oh, well, how much is your rent?" Me: "$___." "Really? That's an awful high rent for just a single person." (Said very sarcastically--like, "If you're so hard up for money, why aren't you living in a cardboard box--then you could afford to by food.") And so forth--finally, after the grilling, I was given a couple of boxes of food, and summarily dismissed from her ladyship's presence, like a good little peasant.

Well, I get the food home--thanks to the kindness of a co-worker, but there's no time to bring it all upstairs, as I have to get back to finish me shift at work, so I covered the boxes with plastic bags and other debris, and left them on the stoop near the door--where I figured no one would bother them---wrong. That's right. Some %$#^&@@$ stole my week's food!

I HATE my life!!!

Now, instead of spending just $15 or $20 on the shopping, I have to spend nearly double that--which is nearly everything I have!

And, on top of that, I got a notice from the state medical insurance--My medical coverage---ALL of it, has been canceled! I CANNOT even go to emergency care, now! America totally sucks!

And I'm so sick today--felt okay most of the day, but because I didn't have anything to take for lunch, I am not lightheaded, shaking and weak--eating now, of course. Oatmeal--bleh!

I did manage to save some of the food--took the bag of bread and the hot dogs they gave me, to work with me. And, I do have roughly 30 dollars to spend on food, but there won't be anything much left, after that, I'm afraid. I just paid the rent and utilites, and there's nothing much after that, left over.

The one good thing that did happen to me today, is that the co-worker who offered me a lift to the food pantry--also may be giving me an old sofa, she's throwing away!
Oh gosh, how I've missed having a sofa--a proper place to sit and chill--these past two years...what a delight that will be...a real sofa! Cool!

ADDENDUM:

Well, food problem--mostly--solved. My co-worker saw the guy steal the food, unfortunately, by the time she turned the car around, he'd vanished---but, she'd rung up her minister, and went to her church's food pantry, and got me two replacement boxes! That left me a bit gobsmacked, I must say. That was so incredibly kind of her! (this is the same woman that might be giving me a sofa). No one around here has been that kind to me, in...a long, long time. Wow. I'm stunned. And, she was every much as put out with the thief, as I was--even saying she was going to ring the police--but I said to let him go...maybe he needed the food, more than I. I am still quite angry with him, but...it's done, and the food's been replaced, and I will write no more about it. So, I'm back onto my original budget of $15-20 (7 to 10 pounds), for the week's shopping. Whew! I was really worried, about that. I was hoping to be able to buy a 97 cent bottle of aspirin, from WalMart tomorrow, now, I can.

This story is dedicated to "Smartiefairy" and all my other wonderful sponsors--THANK YOU!!!

Accord's website is at: www.accord.org.uk

All stories written in honour of the patients of Accord, and in memory of Mrs. Helen McDonald.

To sponsor my effort, or one particular story, go to: http://www.justgiving.com/nbgolash

Immediately, Mrs. Thompson got hold of her broker told him to sell--at a huge loss. The phone rang, “Mrs. Thompson, I forgot. Tell Harry to hock the jewelry, as well.” “Harry?” Mrs. Thomson exclaimed, “But my husband is Gerald!” “Oh. Sorry, wrong number.”

_____________________________________________
About the charity : Accord Hospice
ACCORD Hospice provides specialist palliative care to the communities of Renfrewshire and parts of East Renfrewshire. This care is provided to over 500 patients and families each year by our multi-disciplinary team including our three consultants, In Patient Care (8 beds), Day Care (15 places) Community Nurse Specialists (5) and a whole range of different therapies. Almost £2 million is required in this financial year (07/08)

Just a note to my friends--I sometimes get "e-cards" sent to me, but I do not open them.

I bin them, because there are virus' around being sent as bogus e-cards.

If you send me an e-card, you need to let me know first, so I know it's safe to open. Thanks.

Coldeyes just left me a nasty comment--which I binned. He says I haven't "been around"---a "man" who doesn't even KNOW me, says that--he's admitting publicly that he's a feckless, stupid arse.

Coldeyes: feck off. Don't bother me until you grow up and become a man. And--don't swear in front of women and children--if you were REALLY a grown man, you'd know that, I'd reckon.

Caring takes courage--doing the right thing is hard. Doing the wrong thing, is incredibly easy. It takes nothing, Zero, to do the wrong thing.

You have a choices in this life: be a zero, or be a hero.

Coldeye is just another American ZERO.

"you take the high road and I'll take the Tardis, and I'll be in Scotland looonngg before ye..."

I got tagged on another blog, by someone on another of my blogs. Thought I'd shove it on here, instead. Not sure why, except I only get zero to three readers on the other blog, because I only use it once every few weeks.

LIST FIVE FIVES (IN NO SPECIAL ORDER)

1. Name your five most favourite home-cooked meals:

Cherried chicken with couscous
Lamb & veggie stew with tomato-dill gravy
Beef ragout
My late mum's New England style pot roast, with potatoes, carrots & onions
Spaghetti bolognese with capellini pasta and vodka (cream) sauce.

2. Name your five high points in your life:

Graduating college in 2003
My nephew's christening in 1989
Sitting on an Icelandic horse on top of a hill, in Iceland
Getting to sit in Bessie from Dr Who
My second day of Sailing in the Netherlands, when they let me steer

3. Your five most sobering moments:

Mum's deathbed
putting various pets to sleep, over the years
being foreclosed/evicted
tie: being told I was going blind, being told I might have a serious illness.
Being told my dad had passed on

4. Name five music artists you currently listen to:

John Denver
The Proclaimers
The Kinks
Warm in the Wake
The Jam

5. Five dreams or daydream you'd like to see come true

visit or live in the UK (daydream)
tie: own a horse, or have my writing published (daydream)
have a job with a future--preferably that I like and am good at (dream)
to be genuinely wanted and/or needed by someone (dream)
never worrying about losing my home again (daydream)

Experts: Elderly most at-risk in suicide

By SARAH SKIDMORE, Associated Press Writer 21 minutes ago

Not long after 72-year-old Anne Beale Golsan had retired on disability from her job as a librarian, she put a stack of paid bills out for the mail, hung up a freshly pressed outfit and taped a note to the front of the house. "Don't come in by yourself. Get somebody to come with you. Sorry, Love Beale."

Her niece arrived at the house they shared in Baton Rouge, La., to find police already there. Golsan had killed herself with a gunshot to the head.

"Every single day it makes me feel like I wish I could have done something," Jane Golsan Ray said, recalling her aunt's death eight years ago. "I wish I could turn back the clock and prevent it. It doesn't get any better, it hurts every day."

The elderly are the highest risk population in the country for suicide. But few suicide-prevention programs target them — a result, advocates say, of scarce funding and lack of concern for older Americans.

And mental heath experts say the number of elderly suicides is likely to climb as baby boomers enter their twilight years.

The overall U.S. suicide rate is 11 per 100,000 people. But for those 65 and older, that figure rises to 14 per 100,000, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which based its findings on 2004 data, the most recent available.

Older adults are less likely to seek help and are more lethal in their suicide attempts. So experts say special care is needed to reach out.

Dale Smith, 67, said he might not be alive if not for a suicide-prevention program in Spokane, Wash.

Two years ago, he attended a meeting at his retirement complex where everyone filled out a screening form for depression, a key risk factor for suicide.

Based on his answers, a caseworker and psychiatrist later visited Smith at his home, where they discussed what turned out to be a lifetime of depression. They developed a plan of medication and therapy that Smith says probably saved his life.

"I'm not unique. I think there's a lot of individuals out there who do suffer from depression and they have no clue," he said. "They just know they're not happy. They are tired, they want to pull the covers over their heads and not look at the world, and they don't know what it is."

But many older Americans have fewer options for treatment than younger people.

"It's a not-so-subtle social-political assignment of resources," said Donna Cohen, a professor in the Department of Aging and Mental Health at the University of South Florida.

Ten states passed laws last year intended to curb suicide among children and young adults. But only two — New Jersey and New Mexico — passed laws addressing suicide among the elderly, according to Suicide Prevention Action Network USA, a national advocacy group based in Washington, D.C.

Depression is underdetected at all ages, mental health groups say. But much more funding is available for treating younger people, including $82 million in federal money approved in 2004.

The situation prompted Sen. Harry Reid of Nevada, who lost his father to suicide, to propose funding more suicide-prevention programs for the elderly and changing a Medicare coverage rule that forces seniors to pay more for outpatient mental health services than other medical care.

Some advocates and mental health workers say they also have to battle a prevailing notion that depression is a normal part of aging.

"It is not natural and should be treated at all times," said Dr. Paula Clayton, a psychiatrist and medical director for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

Janice Hodge of Sandy, Ore. said she didn't realize until after her 91-year old father, Anthony Liberto, died that he had been depressed.

He was struggling to care for his 85-year-old wife, who suffered from Parkinson's disease. He did not work and he could no longer play golf, his favorite pastime. Friends and family still visited, but they say he spent much of his time lying on the couch and growing frustrated with suggestions that he place his wife of 62 years in a nursing home.

Eventually, he shot his wife and killed himself, leaving a note that read: "Sorry we had to leave this way, forgive me. Love, your Dad."

Experts say there need to be services tailored to the elderly because they handle depression differently than younger patients.

In Spokane, the program that helped Smith, called Elder Services, trains people who come in contact with the elderly — from bank tellers to postal carriers — to notice signs of trouble, such as mail piling up or bills going unpaid. Those people can then notify social workers.

In San Francisco, Patrick Arbore founded the Friendship Line in San Francisco in 1973 after seeing the lack of understanding some suicide hot line workers displayed for older people.

The line, which lets people call just to talk or get support, now handles more than 3,000 calls a month. About one-quarter of the callers have suicidal thoughts, a staffer said. But most just want a compassionate listener.

"It's about reminding people that they are still a part of their community," Arbore said. "Those connections bind us to life."

___

I'm coming back to blog.uk, but only on the weekends.

For one thing, I'm just not well enough to support two blogs, and I'm pretty happy with my new blog, actually. Less readers means less pressure to please...and more chance to be personal, really.

Tho' oddly, I get more readers when I'm gone, than when I'm here. Go figure that one out.

Anyway, I'll still read--and sometimes comment--on my friend's posts during the week, but as for blogging here, I just don't feel up to it. I'm chugging along on blogger, and that's all I have time for.

The spammers are getting worse, of late--and the stupid thing is, is ALL the sites they direct one too--are in a foreign language! How stupid is that? Even on the very improbable chance I did want to visit the site--I couldn't READ it! If nothing else says how stupid spammers are, I think this speak volumes about the lack of gray matter between their ears.

Yeah, of all my blogs (I have 4 now), what one gets spammed---in SPANNISH--is my Accord Hospice blog!

Who the hell spams a blog that exists solely to raise funds for terminally ill cancer patients???

Sick jackarse. The website was Crescenet, by the way. I so much wanted to write them and tell them what horrible gits they were, but alas, I do not speak much Spanish, and don't write it at all, so I couldn't respond other than to blog about it, and delete the spam.

Ah well. Back to work tomorrow--10am to 6:30pm. Long day, but at least--for the first time in weeks--I had a good night's sleep, last night. And no heart trouble or dizzyness today, thank God. Maybe this is just what I needed, ey? I am dreading Monday tho--not because of work, but because I'd love to have a whole week to rest, and not just two days--but, no sick pay, no holiday pay, no nothing--I don't work, I don't make my $265 a week. Period.

Well, off to watch some more Dr Who. Cheers. See you next weekend.

ontact Mr.Jeffrey Bosch,of Zennitt Securities on this email address
zennittis@aim.com ) for more information on how to receive a cash
endowment of 1.000.000.00 Euros from Philips Electronics Foundation.

Regards,
Mrs. Maria Van Mannen.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When will our nations band together and crack down on these scammers? Obviously there are still thousands--maybe millions--of totally gullible people out there.

Thing is, the money they chuck at these con artists, is money that could be going into our own local or national economies, so it would behoove our govenments to band together and punish websites--and even other nations, that allow these people to do this and get away with it.

Our nations can begin by threatening to remove economic support to all countries which harbour these criminals without showing a concentrated effort to arrest them.

Furthermore The U.S, Canada, U.K., and other European nations, should also go after website and e-mail providers that allow these people to be on the internet.

Maybe this isn't practical--but wouldn't you rather see this money stay in your own country, rather than in the hands of some mentally lazy Nigerian, American, European, or what-have-you?

"Yes, I've left my girl--John's just such a hottie, I can't live without him."

See?? I told you!

Sorry, I'm a baaad girl, today.

Here's part of today's blog entry on my new blog site, a small sample from the complete entry--

From, "Life in a Small Town, Part II:

You never know what your neighbours are going to say or do, in a small town.

For instance, I used to deliver, once a week, hot lunches to the elderly, as part of the local Meals on Wheels programme. One time, I went into this lady's house--she had about five relations and 10 cats, dogs and birds living with her, in her home. Well, I went in, trying not to trip over the dogs and such...only to find the woman on the floor!

Thankfully, she appeared to be unhurt. So I helped her up onto a chair...and, as I crouched down to ask if there was anything I could do for her--the van driver had a CB radio, and we could talk directly to the town's emergency dispatcher---she said, in a quavering voice, "Yes, you could do one thing for me, dear." "What do you need?" I asked--thinking she may want me to get hold of a relation (who I found out later, was sleeping upstairs--because she yelled down at me, "Will you shut up? I'm trying to sleep!" as I was leaving), or perhaps, get the woman a glass of water, or help her into bed. None of the above. "Will you clean the litter box out for me, while you're here?" Huh???

Artists I'm Listening to today:

* Abba
* Foster & Allen
* Jamie Stevens
* John Denver
* Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
* Robert Post
* Simon and Garfunkel
* Sister Hazel
* SweetLou
* The Jam
* The Kinks
* The Proclaimers
* Warm in the Wake

I'm a small town gal, and as such, I can safely say, that life in a small community can get a little..interesting.

Take the weekly bingo game at the fire hall, church, Knights of Columbus, or what-have-you.

I mean, these ladies get really serious, man. Don't mess with a bingo-lady!

They have these little "good luck pieces" they carry 'round with them...little elephants or lucky key rings or whatever. They have all the stuff they need--their own bingo chips--preferably the kind with the metal rings on the edges, so they can use their little magnetic bingo "wand" to swiftly sweep up the chips in readiness for the next round. They carry their supplies in special little bingo bags--that many knit themselves--oh, the poker guys think their serious about their game? Ha! The guys are no match for the bingo-ladies.

When it seems--real or imagined--that the ball machine is bringing up the same numbers too often, some old biddy will holler, "Shake those balls!" Which can be a bit funny, when it's a guy running the game. I've often seen them wince, truth to tell.

You know how you can get a table full of old ladies to swear like sailors?

When the one of them yells, "BINGO!"

FROM THE AMERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION:

Two federal courts handed down stunning victories for civil liberties last week, starkly rejecting White House abuses of power through the Patriot Act and broad use of secrecy claims to dodge public accountability.

Meanwhile, a federal judge in Washington, D.C. rejected broad claims of government secrecy in our Freedom of Information Act lawsuit over documents related to the Bush NSA wiretapping program. This ruling strikes another blow to the administration's sweeping and often unfounded secrecy claims and compels the Department of Justice, the FBI and the NSA to provide additional explanations for their withholding of many documents about the program, and the legal justifications for the program in particular.

Oh crap!!! I thought BAD was on SEPTEMBER 15th--marked my calendar wrong...well, I'll delete and save for 30 days from now--sorry about that...it's supposed to be October. I hate being ill..this darn illness is making me downright senile!!!

THE DOCTOR WHO CAPTION:

"Damn! If they'd had only called "B-6," I'd of been able to yell, 'BINGO!'"

THE DAVID TENNANT CAPTION:

"See, Freema--Billie wasn't lying--it really is ten-inches! Want to borrow my tape measure?"

近义词 近义词 的所有格 形 无言的

名 沈默;一种相当强烈的啤酒;妈

May Buddha use you as he toilet paper, in the afterlife, you lazy, stupid, cowardly spammer.

God! These Chinese spammers are really starting to make me HATE stinking China!

Okay, in the last week, I've had nearly a dozen e-mails asking me to come back--so...putting it to a vote...if you want this blog to continue--no matter who you are, just leave a comment in the comment box, between now and Saturday night. If there's sufficient interest, I will re-consider my decision.

I'm asking this for a reason--it's just that I thought I only had a small core of regular readers--and am a bit surprised at the response from people I don't know. I knew I had a lot of visitors, but chalked the bulk of them up as just curious folks, who give the blog a quick glance and then move on. I am not thrilled with blog.uk, and am rather happy with my other ad-free blog--tho' blog uk does have one or two features the other blog doesn't--the other blog is just my blog--no totally inapproriate Googleads intruding into my personal space. But, if you really feel you'll miss the blog, okay...MAYBE. Apparently, some people are missing my David Tennant gags, it seems, and my Dr Who captions. Cheers.

I noticed I'm still getting more than 500 pageviews...odd that.

So, in case no one has gotten the message, this blog is closed until further notice. No new posts will be made. I am not deleting it, because some 500 people seem to want to read it, for some reason unknown to me.

However, for all intents and purposes, for the time being, I'm not here anymore, except to read my friend's blogs, from time to time. I have since set up a new blog--on a FREE site with NO adverts, thanks. Blog.uk can keep their invasive GoogleAds, I will go where I can blog for free without having stupid video/photo ads and pop-up google ads, and other bids to make me buy a pro account, taking away from my blogging pleasure.

My new blog is just the same--tho', due to lack of traffic, I am able to make more posts about my personal life, than on here--and, I'm writing pretty much as I always did, just without all the hassles that blog.uk seems to be determined to throw at us non-pro users.

Thanks for reading my blog, it's been an interesting year on blog.uk, but they're just getting too commercialized, pushy and aggressive, to suit me.

I was thinking today, of how I'd not been fishing in nearly two decades. I used to fish quite a bit, growing up--oh, nothing spectacular, mind. My "pole," more often than not, was a tall stick of real bamboo--with a long fishing line tied to one end. On the other end, was tied simply, a "bobber" (float) a hook--I favoured the smaller Eagle Claw brand of hook--and a small teardrop shaped lead weight, if I was fishing in a lake...and worms I usually dug myself, and put into a coffee can filled with dirt--the one's you buy at the bait shop, are often fat--but also are very sluggish. The "good" worms tended to be the little skinny pale one's, that you'd find under rocks and such--they had more wiggle action, to attract the fish. Sometimes I'd use cheese or doughballs, in a pinch, but they didn't work as well--except, for pepperoni cheese (cheese with bits of pepperoni mixed in)..for some reason, the fish liked the taste of that...but it was hard to get, locally, only a store at the farmer's market had them.

Mum used to take me fishing, quite a lot--sometimes at the lake up the road, where we had the choice of the dock, shore or a rowboat, to fish from. Sometimes it was the Moordenaerskill, from a bridge over the stream as it flowed across Cemetery Avenue, or perhaps in the cemetery itself, at cemetery pond. Back then--as tempting as it was to go after a big carp, you didn't fish the Hudson River--unless you were stupid and didn't care about the turds floating by.It took nearly 20 years of diligence and public awareness--chiefly brought about by a modern reproduction of an original Hudson River sloop--"Clearwater," and the efforts of dedicated river lovers like American folk singer, Pete Seeger (of The Weavers group of the 1960's), that changed things for the better--Staring in the late 60's, and still going strong today, the boat and crew sailed up and down the Hudson, putting on concerts and free boat tours, to raise funds and awareness to clean up our wonderful and unique river...but when I was a youngster--the river still wasn't great.

Anyway, mum sometimes came in handy, when I was a kid--mind, I wasn't sqeemish about putting the worm ON the hook--it was taking the fish OFF the hook, I'd shied away from.

It's one of those weird facts of my life, that while I thoroughly enjoyed the act of fishing--and catching a fish was truly a big thrill--on the other hand, I always, after I caught the poor wee thing, felt so BAD, about catching it. Sort of a "catch 22," ey? (Pun definitely intended.)

I mean, there it was, staring up, wide-eyed at me (do fish even blink?), it's gills working like mad--and that moment of excitement of catching the blasted thing--was instantly reversed into a trip into guilt and remorse. I always let them go, by the way--big proponent of catch and release.

Then, the other thing I never liked about catching "sunnies" (Sunfish), was the fins on the back--man, they could give you a nasty, painful cut, if you were being careless...didn't like that, not one whit.

But...sometimes, I'd not actually fish at all--sometimes I'd just practice my casting--all the relaxation and enjoyment of fishing--without all the guilt...and sometimes, I'd even catch something, anyway--okay, it was usually weeds, or, if I had a particularly bad cast--an overhead tree branch--but, hey...I caught SOMETHING, right???

THE PRO-HUDSON RIVER PROMOTION SLOOP, "CLEARWATER," ON AN AUTUMN SAIL IN THE LOWER HUDSON VALLEY.

Well--my company has ceased ordering office supplies, coffee, etc., and the Human Resources manager has been in a closed door meeting all day and is looking very grim.

Not looking good for me, folks. Which is why I'm sitting here, eating old re-heated pizza from the freezer, and doing an on-line job application for a sales associate position at Sears department store, at the local mall.

I did find out today, that starting next week, I'm eligible for a whole whopping $13 (about 6 pounds, 50 pence) of food stamps, each month, from the state, tho'. Better than zero, I suppose. At current prices, that'll buy a loaf of bread, a half gallon of milk and a box of cold cereal, just about.

Someone was upset with me, over my "cavalier attitude" over my health--hell, living or dying is very, very, very literally, my last worry, right about now.

Anyone who believes there's nothing worse than dying, is either blissfully naive, or has had a pretty damn lucky life, and shouldn't be harping on me, for my own honest and true feelings and experiences.

I'm incredibly tired--five hour day shift dragged and dragged today--even tho' I was on collections, which is pretty easy work.

Now, after lunch, I have to go back for another five hours, till ten...it's gonna' be a yawn-fest for me, tonight. How the hell I'm going to write my Accord story when I get home...no clue. Just do it, I guess, and hope the end result is actually readable, ha-ha.

So, gotta' go finish that application. Life just gets better and better, don't it tho?

Okay, stop rolling yer eyes...

DAVID SINATRA: "And I did it myyyy wayyy---"

"Damn--all that snogging makes me sleepy..."

"No, I swear to you...I'm not gay!"

So Mattel's recalling even more toys, now--Barbie accessories.

Sorry, but I have a hard time being smypathetic with the manufacturer--they put thousands of Americans out of work, by moving production to China--boo-hoo, Mattel. Deal with it. Now, losing all that money, you know how your American employees feel.

Have a ten-hour day today, so I slept in an extra half hour, woke at quarter past eight. My schedule is 10 to 3 and then 5 to 10. Sucks, ey? Not so bad if I actually LIKED my job, but...bleh. I really, really, really, really, really HATE selling!

Ah well, at least I'm not cleaning loos and carting smelly full bin bags around to dumpsters. I have to keep telling myself that..."remember when you had to...." The old "It could be worse," routine.

So, got tagged to do a meme. Bleh again. Guess I'll do it, but not really in the mood. I'm blinking exhausted and it's only Wednesday! Blimey, I wish I could follow that doctor's advice and take a month off. Not gonna' happen, but, one can daydream. My ticker isn't working 100%, but don't think I'm gonna' die sitting on my arse talking on the phone, so nothing for it but go out today and earn that stinking pay cheque with that stinking 12% pay cut in it.....life soooo--very sucks.

_________________________________________________________________________________

TEN QUESTIONS MEME:

1. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone?

Oddly enough, I've actually thought about this, as this is a real-life scenario for me...um--not sure. I guess, I'd regret not saying goodbye to my sister, nephew, and my two best friends, the "two G's," as I call them.

2. If a new medicine were developed that would cure arthritis but cause a fatal reaction in 1 percent of those who took it, would you want it to be released to the public?

Not sure. I don't think so--not unless it were blared out about the possible reaction, so people really got that they might die if they took it. I have had that complaint since age 19, and it can be a bother, but not sure a cure would be worth gambling my life away over it.

3. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the body or the mind of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

Mind, definitely.

4. If you knew there would be a nuclear war in one week, what would do? (you can’t stop it)

Not a clue. Probably just go to where I grew up, look around, enjoy the memories--then just wait out the war, see what happens, look into seeing if there's any way I can help others cope with it? Tough question, I dunno'...

5. Would you accept twenty years of extraordinary happiness and fulfillment if it meant you had to die at the end of the period?

Damn straight, I would.

6. If the person you were engaged to marry had an accident and became a paraplegic, would you go through with the marriage or back out of it?

Go through--how shallow would that be, backing out? If you love someone, you'd want to be with him or her, no matter what, right? Or am I, as someone who's never been in love, being naive?

7. Someone very close to you is in pain, paralyzed, and will die in a month. They beg you to give them poison so they that they can die. Would you?

No, definitely not. I am not God, and have no desire to play God.

8. Given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as your dinner guest? as a close friend? as a lover?

Oh, I know, you're expecting me to say, David Tennant. Err--wrong. I have someone in mind, but am not telling...(not a celebrity).

9. What is the worst psychological torture you can imagine suffering? (it cannot involve any physical harm to you)?

Oh, I've already been there, growing up, being teased and put down conatantly. I don't think anything's worse than that--no, take that back...sitting all alone, in the waiting room of intensive care, having to decide whether to pull the plug on mum or not--THAT was the worst.

10. Which of these restrictions could you best tolerate: leaving the country permanently or never leaving the state in which you now live?

If I could live in the UK--and take my cats with me, where's my passport?

Hint of the night: If your game of rock, paper, scissors is losing its lustre, take it to the next level with rock, paper, scissors, gun, dynamite.

Well, moi has been tagged.

Meme's--yuck.

Well...maybe tomorrow, or in a day or two...MAYBE. Right now, I seriously need some sleep. Adios.

Well, bad enough feeling...bleh, all the time, of late, but now, I had to leave work an hour early, as my voice was giving out. I have a wicked sore throat (not a good thing, for a woman who depends on her voice for her weekly pay packet), my throat burns like mad--I just couldn't see doing another hour and messing up my voice even worse. So, have to go in for an hour on Sat, dang it all--my one day off.

Working 10 to 3, and 5 to 10 shift, tomorrow. Loooong day for me...something to look forward to, then, ey? Hate Natl. holidays--always have to work that much harder, to make up the money from a lost day's work. Life truly does suck for those of us at the bottom.

I read where the Tories want to deny people with "unhealthy" lifestyles, medical care? Why don't the ignorant Tories join the terrorists, for pity's sake, if their so bent on killing innocent people?

That's just...absurd! I mean, why don't these PC snobs just pack all us less than perfect and beautiful people away in concentration camps and just gas us and get it over with, like Hitler did with the Jews--a lot kinder than letting the un-beautiful people die a slow, agonizing death for lack of health care---I see George Bush's hopelessly mindless and totally callous right-wing conservative mentality, has spread itself into your Tory party, ey? Greed truly is a disease--that's all it is, you know. The Tories don't want to spend the money on human lives--they want it to pad their own pensions, most likely.

Ladies and gents, although he has a bit of a frog in his throat, Mr. Tennant will speak to the audience: "RIBBIT!"

Actor David Tennant goes for the Mohawk hairstyle--without the requisite shaving of the head. (Is that a little pre-mature balding I see?)

Hey! Someone's giving the man a comb! Every fangirl's dream--this one's for you, Jessa!

More to follow...

Please visit the Accord Hospice 100 Stories--100 Days Challenge blog, at: www.nbgolash.blogspot.com/

Even tho' the world has gravely changed, in the last twenty or thirty years, and so many are no longer truly aware of the life around them--being caught up in a hectic life of mobiles and job woes, family, entertainments, computers and laptops, faxes and I-pods and blackberries (whatever they are, I honestly do not know), and going places--and also, healthy food that is much blander--albeit supposedly better for us--than our parents and grandparents had, pollution, noise--ever constant noise, sometimes...our physical senses are lost in the shuffle.

Take the eye--it can see everything around us--see a microcosm of the universe--for the world around us is a part of the universe, ever changing, ever evolving--no two days are ever EXACTLY the same, really, that's just the perception we allow ourselves to have. And, we can not only connect the images of what we see to our brains, but to our hearts, as well--if we can pry ourselves away from our computer and tele screens long enough, yank our brains out of the one-sided mode we get in, playing games, talking on mobiles, and just thinking in a one-track mindset, "I've gotta'..."

It's same as with our hearing. We have the ability to hear beautiful things, to let them connect with our souls--but so often, the life around us is shut out, by I-pods and booming stereos and blaring televisions, traffic, loud people on mobiles, nattering crowds...

We think all around is is forever, permanent..we see it every day--but...we don't really. Every day, brings change--weather, patterns of shadows on buildings and fields, birds, the sky, the people we see, the cars going past us--it may all seem the same, but that's only because we tend to look--but not to truly SEE.

We allow the traffic and tele and other noises, to drown out the sound of crickets and birds and wind, of children and quiet snatches of pleasant conversations between two people, whom we do not know. All these "positive" noises, can be woven into a simple moment of quiet pleasure--of just...listening to LIFE.

Watching LIFE. Taking it in, digesting, just...enjoying it for its being there, for its harmony, its complexities, its uniqueness.

But heck, we don't have time for that, we have to go blog now...

Well, DT is in the news again--this time garnering best actor at the TV Choice/TV Quick awards, congrats to him, as it was well-deserved.

Must be tough tho', carrying on all as usual, after such a devastating loss. I know it was for me--I mean, you do just have to throw yourself back into life, regardless--the day of mum's graveside service, I had an important counciling session, at the state employment office, just a few hours after--I buried my mum, went to lunch with my sister and my three remaining relations, and then, being that I was totally desperate for a job, I just had to suck it in and get on with it and go to the meeting with my caseworker. But...it's not easy.

All last year--and even now, with my illness, I have had to pretend that everything's fine and normal, when it's very much not, inside me. But, you do what you have to, and I think Mr. Tennant's probably got a lot more support and caring behind him, than I, so maybe he's coping just fine. Not knowing him at all, of course, I can't say, can I?

Well, did day shift, came home, had lunch, blogged, took a catnap, now off for nightshift--going to be a long week. Damn. Have to work for a living! Me poor heart...ha-ha.

Air Force One crashed in the middle of rural America. Panic stricken, the Secret Service mobilized and descended on the farm in force. When they got there, the wreckage was clear. The aircraft was totally destroyed, with only a burned hulk left smoldering in a tree line that bordered a farm. Secret Service descended upon the smoking hulk but could find no remains of the crew or the President's staff. To their amazement, a lone farmer was plowing a field not too far away as if nothing at all happened. They hurried over to surround the man's tractor. "Sir," the senior Secret Service agent asked, panting and out of breath. "Did you see this terrible accident happen?" "Yep. Sure did." The man muttered unconcernedly. "Do you realize that is the President of the United States' airplane?" "Yep." "Were there any survivors?" the agent gasped. "Nope. They's all kilt straight out." The farmer sighed cutting of his tractor motor. "I done buried them all myself. Took most of the morning." "The President of the United States is DEAD?" The agent gulped in disbelief. "Yep, he kept a-saying he wasn't ... but you know what a liar he is!"

Besides the writing marathon for Accord, I've also just signed on to participate in Blog Action Day.

As an old tree-hugging nature girl from way back, I think I should participate. I'm no huge environmentalist--never belonged to Greenpeace or NWF, but I can neither ignore nor forget my love of the the great, mysterious, ever-changing and wonderful outside world, and this is something I think I should do.

If you want to join in, you can sign up you blog, as well. The Blog Day is Sept. 15th, and you can find out more about it, by going to Blog UK's homepage, and clicking on the "blog" link to blog.uk's blog, at the bottom of the page, and read more about it.

Well, since starting today, I have to take a 12% pay cut, or have no income at all, I thought now might just be a good time to re-vamp my resume. Here's what I came up with---whatd'ya think?

NAME: Nancy Whovian (I'm thinking about changing my name)

DESIRED POSITION: Lying horizontally. But seriously, whatever you've got, bring it on! Let's face it, if I was in a position to choose, would I be applying here?

DESIRED SALARY: Over a hundred grand a year would be nice--throw in some stock options, four weeks paid holiday, full medical coverage--no co-pays, a company car--preferably a merc--tho' a suppose, in a pinch, I might accept a Skoda, if you threw in a credit card to pay for the petrol.

EDUCATION: More or less--does a trade school cert in backhoe operation and flower arranging count?

LAST POSITION: Isn't that kind of private?? --oh! You mean last job...erm--does shoveling manure show how industrious and hard working I am? I was working for a local politician.

SALARY: Oh, don't start me laughing, I might vomit from the hysteria.

MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT:
My collection of used celebrity rubbers is the largest in the world.

REASON FOR LEAVING: They actually expected me to show up on time, can you believe that? AND work, too! How rude.

HOURS AVAILABLE TO WORK: Any--as long as I can come and go as I please.

PREFERRED HOURS: 9.0 am to 10.0 am Mon. through Tues.

DO YOU HAVE ANY SPECIAL SKILLS?:
Yes, but my shrink says I should keep my little skills to myself, or I'll have to wear that funny jacket with the straps again.

MAY WE CONTACT YOUR CURRENT EMPLOYER?:
If I had one, would I be here? DOH.

DO YOU HAVE ANY PHYSICAL CONDITIONS THAT WOULD PROHIBIT YOU FROM LIFTING UP TO 50 LBS?:

Usually I get a big strong guy to do that, so I can stand back and admire his nice shapely arse.

DO YOU HAVE A CAR?:
Yes, it's currently residing in a local junk yard.

HAVE YOU RECEIVED ANY SPECIAL AWARDS OR RECOGNITION?:

According to my e-mail this morning, I've won the National Lottery twenty times in 24 hours. I

DO YOU SMOKE?: Yeah, sometimes--when my sleeve gets too close to the gas cooker.

WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE DOING IN FIVE YEARS?
Living on a yacht with a really rich ex-model stud guy, who caters to my every whim and throws money at me whenever I ask for it.

DO YOU CERTIFY THAT THE ABOVE IS TRUE AND COMPLETE TO THE BEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE?: Upon my lawyers (solicitors) advice, I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me.

SIGN HERE: Posh.

David Tennant himself, has reveled in the past, that he sometimes preps himself for a scene by "fundling out" a good fart.

Well, apparently, the gentleman in question, has one other...erm--interesting, habit: picking his nose, before a take.

Here we see this, as poor Freema maintains her ladylike posture and attempts to ignore the act...

Only joking...but, you gotta' admit, look at the finger....what do you think? I can't remember...was there a lot of hand-holding in Hamlet???

One day a guy dies and finds himself in hell. As he is wallowing in despair he has his first meeting with a demon...

Demon: Why so glum chum?
Guy: What do you think? I'm in hell.
Demon: Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here...you a drinkin' man?
Guy: Sure, I love to drink. Love the drinks.
Demon: Well you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays that's all we do is drink. Whiskey, tequila, Guinness, wine coolers, diet tab, and fresca...we drink till we throw up and then we drink some more!
Guy: Gee that sounds great.

Demon: You a smoker?
Guy: You better believe it! Love the smoking.
Demon: Alright! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from all over the world and smoke our lungs out. If you get cancer - no biggie - you're already dead remember?
Guy: Wow...that's...awesome!

Demon: I bet you like to gamble.
Guy: Why yes as a matter of fact I do. Love the gambling.
Demon: Cause Wednesday you can gamble all you want. Craps, Blackjack, Roulette, Poker, Slots, whatever... If you go Bankrupt...well you're dead anyhow.

Demon: You into drugs?
Guy: Are you kidding? Love drugs! You don't mean...
Demon: That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack. or smack. Smoke a doobie the size of a submarine. You can do all the drugs you want and if ya overdose - that's right - you're dead - who cares! O.D.!!
Guy: Yowza! I never realized Hell was such a swingin' place!!

Demon: You gay?
Guy: Uh no.

Demon: Ooooh (grimaces) you're really gonna hate Fridays.

This is about a quarter mile down the road from my sister's place.

This is the town's website: My sister hangs out in Readsboro a lot, and my nephew went to school there, for a brief time.
http://www.readsboro.net/

"Downtown" Readsboro--takes forever to get to Readsboro from Bennington--it's blinking in the middle of blinking nowhere!

A charming scene of the Green Mountain National Forest, outside of Readsboro.

In viewing these pics, I keeping coming back to an idea I have for a play, a comedy--where this big-time star gets arrested in a small backwater town full of excentric characters--gets hauled before a judge, and has to do community service or jail--in this case, he chooses CS, and is given over to the local theatre group--directing a Shakespearan play starring all of these jerkwater hicks--a community theater run by the judge's daughter...well, it's been floating about my head as an idea, since before mum passed on, over two years now--I've tried to start it, but keep getting stuck on the exposition (that's the first few pages that set up the story). If anyone ever wants to do a collaboration on this, please PM me, anytime, I'd love to have a co-writer. (And please don't steal this idea--stealing a person's creativity, is like stealing their very soul--and it makes you out to be an unimaginative, drooling idiot.)

Well, just wrote, at a quarter to midnight, Accord Hospice story #45---just 55 more stories to go! Ahhh!! How am I going to do this??? Well, I am so gobsmacked and chuffed, by the outpouring of caring and support by my friends--thank you so much! It can get rather discouraging, at times--especially when it's past midnight, or even well into the day, and I'm drawing a blank as to what to write about!

But I do thank you--for your kind words of encouragement and your very nice reviews, of course, for sponsoring me with a donation, and also, with your story suggestions, as well. A BIG help there, some days, ha-ha.

Helen McDonald, by all accounts, was a very special lady. She's someone I think my own late mum, would have deeply admired. And, Accord is very special, I think. Full of caring and compassion--not only for the patients, but for their families, as well. So often, when someone is gravely ill--and this has been my own life experience--medical support professionals focus only on the person who is sick--and rightly so I suppose, and doctors and nurses, and social workers--they mostly ignore the needs and concerns of the caregiver(s) and other close family members. I have found, through my extensive research of Accord, that this is definitely not the case. And so, I do this in memory of Mrs. McDonald and all the fine work she did--and also in honour of the other patients and their families. There are hospices all over--even one right here in Glens Falls--but I've never known one that emits the caring and love, right in the faces of the people in the photographs, in the work that goes on--as I saw with accord--I was deeply, deeply moved, and that's a fact.

You can find Accord's webpage at: www.accord.org.uk

You can visit my 100 story blog for Accord at: www.nbgolash.blogspot.com/

GREEN MOUNTAIN NATIONAL FOREST, SUNSET, NEAR WHERE MY SISTER LIVES, IN SO. VERMONT.

I just looked at my stats for this blog.

I'm coming on to my one-year anniversary with Blog.uk. In Sept. of last year, I averaged a bit over 300 readers for the month. By January, I was averaging under 400 readers per month.

Today: I average from 500 to 600+ readers--PER DAY.

In October of 2006, my total number of visitors was a little over 650 for the entire month.

In August of 2007, my total number of readers for the month: OVER 19,000!

What's even more startling, is that of late, I've not been writing much of value--not like before--because of my long work hours and some health issues...yet my stats keep climbing--how very strange! Nice, but...strange. I've no clue what makes people even want to read this site, truth to tell. I just write whatever I'm in the mood to write--and lately, I'm not much in the mood, at all, for the first time in my life...which really makes my blog stats seem...odd. I wonder if they are accurate, after all?

For the second time, my kitchen light turned itself on! I thought I was losing it, the first time it happened--I was tired, and merely thought I'd just went to bed with the light on, without realizing--even tho' there's no proper door from the kitchen to the bedroom, just a gauzy floral curtain, hanging over the doorway. But, you know, you're exhausted, maybe you just don't notice the light's on, right?

Well, because the kitchen's ceiling light kept turning itself on and off of it's own volition a week or so back, I've not flipped it on, since...but last night, I walked from the living room to the the bathroom (off the kitchen), the light was off. I came out of the bath--the light was on! Okay, I'm just a little startled. Either my mind is going wonky from this illness, or, the electric is seriously faulty, or...do I have a ghost???

I don't feel like I have a ghost--I mean, this 100+ year old building's really noisy, a lot of thumping and bumping overhead from other tenants around me-and I don't "feel" any presence, like other "close encounters" that I've had, and there's no cold spots or anything like that...so, I'm guessing the wiring's suddenly gone wonky--or my brain is. (I feel better with the wiring or ghost theories, myself.)

In doing some research a while back, I found this webpage, about how to photograph ghosts. Yes, they do exist, and anyone who say not, is naive or deliberately ignorant, or closed minded. But, I've never really paid them much mind, just learned to live with them. They're there, I'm here, that's life--and afterlife, ha-ha. They just...are. Who knows? Maybe when I pass on, my soul will haunt the woods and fields that I'd loved, growing up--that'd be my heaven, well..if they're still there, that is.

Anyway, this webpage kinda' made me laugh--not being insulting to the author, but...the way it's written, so dead-pan serious, I think it's kind of a hoot:

. Ghosts are not just in haunted old buildings. Ghosts are almost everywhere in one form or another. So don’t be afraid to take photos at the mall or out on a busy intersection at night, or anywhere else for that matter.

14. The odds of encountering an evil spirit are slim to none but here is the counsel concerning them. Don’t go hunting for evil spirits and DO NOT dare them to come around. If you hear or see a sign of evil spirits you should leave immediately.

Actually, I did once encounter an "evil spirit," and the advice is bang-on right--don't mess with it! Just...run! No lie, no joke, do what I did..eventually, and just...run!!! It's not a feeling you want to ever experience, truth to tell, and that creepy, oily-evil feeling with etch itself into your memory...trust me on this. I know whereof I speak.

SUPPOSEDLY, THIS IS A PICCY OF AN ACTUAL GHOST. "Smile for the camera, Uncle Chuck!"

Oh, WONDERFUL NEWS!!!

Our favourite Doctor Who, David Tennant is STAYING ON!!!

The BBC are going to allow him to do both, after all! Of course, I'm delighted for Mr. Tennant, and I'm sure he'll make a cracking Hamlet, in a performance well worth remembering--tho' I'm deeply sorry I won't be seeing it.

On the downside--instead of a series in 2009, fans will only get three TV movies. But...possibly--maybe---we hope--Mr. Tennant may return to the role in 2010, and film an entire series again--series 5?

I just looked up, and there was Flame, lying on her blanket on the living room floor--sitting up, with her back legs spread out..with her head hanging over her belly, and her nose buried in her own crotch--right where she pees outta', fast asleep--ewwww! And, she was licking my face again this morning--and, right after, I caught her drinking out of the loo! Ewwww!!!

I got another meme tag, but not going to do it--at least, I'm not inclined to do it, at this time--maybe later...big "maybe."

So, I'm sitting here on my day off, blogging and listening to the Proclaimers, bless them--instead of taking the trolley to Lake George, as planned (too ill/too financially strapped)...I'm sitting here, blogging, puttering about the house, playing cards on the computer--enjoying the nice breeze coming through the windows--might sit out on the balcony later.

I had so wanted to get out, today (well, I AM going to the laundromat, later), and do something actually FUN this summer--too late now, I guess. This is actually the first summer in well over 10 years, where I've been confined to the home most of the summer. First year I've not been ANYWHERE in nearly 20 years. I always had, even the year (1995) when I was homeless for a month, I still went somewhere, with dad, later that year. Last time I had a year like this, was when I seriously messed up my back, working at the stable, at age 31. That was NOT a fun year--bad backs are the WORST! Teach me not to move fast enough when a horse (okay, pony-but a very large pony) decides to run over me. Yup--learned my lesson the hard way, that time.

Anyway, where I lived before--Corinth, Lake Luzerne, Lake George--there was usually stuff to do, in summer: nature paths, public beaches, fetes, yard sales, hanging with the neighbours, gawking at tourists, playing in the horseshoe pits, shooting baskets on the basketball court, stuff like that. Hardly exciting--but that's fine. I'm not one of these people who needs constant entertaining. I had a bike I could ride--and of course--well, mostly--a car, to go to yard sales, picnics, fairs, auctions, festivals, etc.

There's nothing to see here, when you walk--you see one apartment house, you've seen 'em all, I can't cook out, the city's beach isn't on a busline, and is too far for me to walk, with my lame foot...just...nothing. The museum's a major snooze, as is the downtown area. There's a very pretty little park at the city line--which would have been in walking distance, last year, but again, with my lame foot and my current illness...no way.

I'm going nutso, just sitting here all the time, vegetating--thank God for the Accord stories, this blog, my friends and Dr Who--I'd die of sheer boredom, otherwise!

_______________________________________________________________________________

Anyway, getting back to the subject, this meme sent to me, asked me about my "most embarrassing moment."

Okay, had more than my fair share of those, I'm afraid. But I must say, being "volunteered" by my study group at the college in Friesland (at a 2 wk. summer seminar in the Netherlands in 2001), to be "JERRY SPRINGER" or rather, "Nancy Springer." Wow. You know I was just about the only one in the entire group of several hundred international students and teachers, who'd never even SEEN the Jerry Springer Show? Wow.

So, I ended up being given a DVD or video (can't remember) of the show, and spent my free time, that afternoon, trying to "get" into this show--people actually watched that show??? Wow.

So, there I was, with less than 48 hours to learn to be "Jerry." That night, after my two male dorm-mates went out, I went to my room, stood in front of the naf' little mirror, and worked at being "Nancy Springer." I changed into several outfits--but nothing really worked, finally settling on this gosh-awful all-white polyester suit I'd packed in a hurry--being told at the last minute to pack a suitable posh outfit, and not having one to hand that wouldn't wrinkle like mad, if you so much as looked at it sideways--. OMG! I'm not a person who can wear white--my gosh, didn't I resemble the Moby Dick--the great white whale? Whoa.

Anyway, here I am, in my posh white polyester suit, with a plastic hair comb "mic", ab-libbing Jerry Springer, body language, facial and hand gestures at the imaginary "audience," pretending to talk about and react to a non-existent conversation...when in walks my Chinese dorm-mate!

OMG!!! I just about wanted to die! Well, I tried to explain what I was doing--but all I got was a funny smile and a retreat to the kitchen--the poor guy gave me a wide berth after that. Heaven knows what he thought.

Well, anyway, our groups "Nancy Spring Show" skit/presentation (all study groups had to do a fun presentation at the end of the seminar (on all aspects of water--cultural, economic, environmental, historical, etc) to show the other study groups what they'd learned in 2 weeks). And our skit was a big hit, I'm pleased to say--so much so, that people from my college, would see me on our campus (here locally) later, and yell, "Hey! Nancy Springer!" Which made me wince--I hate the Jerry Springer Show. Meh--.

BEACHED WHALE AND HER NEPHEW, PUBLIC BEACH ON THE HUDSON RIVER, ADIRONDACK MTNS, NY. 1997

"Bleh! Human hospital food--tastes like Dalek poo--and don't ask me how I know that"

"Oh no! Not the enema...I don't just have two hearts, you know!"

"Well, hopital's not so bad--that sexy nurse just told me I was 'snog-o-licious!'"

Okay, I admit, I'm pretty neutral these days, in regards to men and sex and the stuff most women are usually on about, 'round the office.

But, that said...I ain't dead. I mean, I do notice, I just don't give it much mind, these days.

So, DT is not my type--I do sort of have a "type," I suppose--but not what you'd think. I don't so much go for looks, as for attitude--I'm a sucker for a nice smile and an easy-going, laid back attitude. Looks? Meh. I guess that's because of how I've been treated, so often maybe? I don't know.

Still...sure, I have a "looks" type, as well, a bit shallow, but old maid or no, I'm still a woman--I like to look, sure...just not very often, as it's not really my "thing.'

I mean, i go for the classic tall, dark and handsome look--the Gary cooper, Rock Hudson, Hugh Grant, Pierce Brosnon, type, I suppose.

I remember once, back in the mid-1980's, I got an acute case of food poisoning--so bad, I was rushed by ambulance to hospital. In the ER, I was wishing I was dead--any of you who've had bad bouts of the stomach bug, I'm sure you recall the feeling.

I was lying on a stretcher in the ER, nothing but my gown on--stinking with sweat, 'cause I'd been too weak to even take a bath, my hair greasy and striny--and...

in walks this drop-dead gorgeous doctor!

I mean, he looked like he stepped straight out of the movies or a soap opera! OMG!! I'm telling you ladies--that was worth being sick--and, he had the CLASS to match his looks! I mean, there I was, looking about as rubbish as any woman could possibly look--add in all that stuff that happens to you during a bout of severe stomach trouble...and yet, he treated me like royalty--now THAT'S class!

It was worth getting sick for, let me tell you--I wouldn't mind being sick, if I could have a doctor like that! Oo-la-la, ladies!!! Yummy!

As a telemarketer, I literally have talked to folks in all 50 states, and every single province of Canada. I've talked to Hawaiians in the pacific Islands, Inuit Esikmos in the literal arctic tundra, Crazyarse Mainers and snobby Californians, laid-back Midwesterners and snarling Texans.

I get some doozy's sometimes, let me tell you.

Here's some of my "imaginary" replies...

"No, you can't talk with him now. He ain't here. Can I take a message?"
(In response to me asking for a man who, it turned out, had died three months previously.)

"Yes, tell Satan give Mr. _____the message, that Mr___'s been selected for a _______membership."

"Do you KNOW it's Sunday?!"

Noooo--really?

You know, I am just sooo--tempted, to use my naf' acting skills and do an improv routine, when they say that to me. It would be such a lark, I think!

Alternately, there's the old,

"WHY are you calling me on a Sunday?!"

Because I was bored sitting at home, and decided to pop 'round the office, just so I could ring you up on your day off and PISS YOU OFF! That's why. Have a nice day.

(Snarled)"What do you want?" (98% of the time, an American male who says this in place of "hello?")

I want to shame you publicly into behaving like a M-A-N, and give you the dressing down your mum apparently never loved you enough to do, but instead, I'll pretend to be nice and friendly--even tho' in my mind, I'll dearly love to give you a good swift kick in the crotch...just on general purposes.

"What do you want HIM for?" (the wife, when I ask for hubby)

(My fantasy response, said in my "sexy" voice--that I seldom get to use)

Oh, I'm a sex-starved love kitten and I want to ask your hubby to come out and play."

Speaking of the demure "sexy" voice (I got a "voice" for all purposes, on this job)..anyway,
I get petty sometimes, but I do have my fun...

There this delay on the computer dialer--between the computer connected them to me, there's about a 5-second delay, sort of like in Radio, when a person rings up the studio, there's a fractionally slight delay between what they say, and what goes out on air--anyway, sometimes, the men get really pissed off at this delay--and yell "HELLO!!!!"

My response, is to speak soft, sexy and demure into the phone, a very gentle and feminine, "Hello?" Oh, love it--the PAUSE, while the tough guy digests the fact he just yelled a woman with a sexy voice....I rarely, rarely use that "voice"--because it's not as easy for me to maintain, quite frankly, as a laid back rural voice, or the clipped "big city" voice...but, God, I love flooring these rude guys with it--it's petty, but it's also kinda' fun!

DOCTOR: (thinking) "If she hits me with that handbag one more time, I'm gonna' drop her into the middle of Genkis Khan's camp."

OMG!! Not again!!!

I mean, these David Tennant fangirls are actually very nice young people--but..mannnn! Why me? I've stopped making fake DT news items and mildly humorous (I hope) DT captions--but still, I'm getting the e-mails???

This time in my in-box:

"What cool photos of David!!! He's the hottest Doctor ever!!! I love him coz he's so foxy and cute and sexy..." FOLLOWED BY: "I can't believe you don't think he's hot! Are you a lesbian?"

Ey?????

Wha????

AGAIN with the lesbian question???

NO. I'm a freaking old maid, okay? I've got friends on both sides of the fence, but I'm strictly neutral. David Tennant's just a guy to me, who happens to be a great actor, but..he's just..a guy.

AND, I've not had a celebrity crush in something like 25 years! Deal with it, for pity's sake.

(Although, I have to admit, there was a brief moment, when I was watching McGyver for more than just seeing him use his duct tape.)

Okaaay, then---

Gee whiz, what do I have to do to get rid of these barmy twigs?

"Hermits United" here I come!

Somehow, I don't think Pocahontas ever did anything like this...put yer eyes back in yer heads, bhoys!!

Well, it's Labor Day tomorrow. I have it off--but, in consequence, must work four nine hour days in a row to make it up. One day off, then start in with it all again next Sunday. Work was okay, today--only did sales for a half-hour, before being put on a Marketing survey. No screamers, yea!!!

'Course, had to put up with that hurling abuse at me, on the way home. Can I help it if I'm ugly, overweight limp, and act like an old woman? Geez--you'd think after 40 years of this, I'd get used to it. You don't, you know--hurts just as much now, as it did when you were a wee child...you just learn to endure it, and just accept it as a fact of life, when you are less than human in your culture's eyes.

The cats were glad to see me, at least--Flame's sitting propped up against my chest, purring contentedly and washing herself, as I type this. I worry about them tho', if anything happens to me, who'll care for them? It worries me a lot--they're all I have, they are, for all intents and purposes, my "family."

Ah well.

Fetched my e-mail, when I got in. Another rejection letter from a PR website. My press releases for the Accord fund raiser must really suck bad. Only one acceptence, so far--and the service mucked it up, and messed up the spacing on the release, so it looks all dorky.
I don't have a clue, how else to promote the Accord Drabble-a-thon. I've tried press releases, search engine and blog listings, forum notices...nothing works. Maybe it's a good thing, that I had to drop out of college in my junior year--that one or two more years of study that I don't have to pay for. I guess a B.A. in communications/PR would have been totally wasted on me, seeing the sort of results I'm getting--none, at the moment. I'm down to less than 5 readers a day, and it's been just about a month since my last donation. I suck. But, I write anyway--what the hell do I have to lose? I'm just glad I didn't much announce publicly, that it was in memory of Helen McDonald and in honour of the patients--then I'd feel worse, getting the results that I am. That it's for Accord, is all anyone needs to know, anyway. But yeah, I'd feel a right stupid old cow, if I'd put who it was for, right out there--and got a poor showing for my effort.

But, I'm so pleased to know that my friends care, and I guess that's made it worthwhile, in the end.

Well, going to try to have dinner--haven't had much to eat, today. Put a small half a seasoned chicken in the oven, gonna' nuke some microwave rice pilaf and some broccoli and hopefully have a decent meal, for a change.

It's nearly 7pm, and I'm dead-tired. Off to relax for a bit. Cheers.

Oh yeah, love livin' in Glens Falls...shouted at me, walking home from work with a small bit of shopping, from a passing car as it whizzed down Glen St.

I'd say the driver's speed of 40mph, was probably much larger than his I.Q.

I mean it--- if anyone in a foreign country, wants to adopt me and the cats...?

"Dick-face???" Maybe I should wear a dress more often...

American men suck--why would any "man" over the age of 21, publicly announce to a woman--even an ugly one, that he's a certified jackarse?

"So, erm--here we are, your bedroom...ah, thing is, I was wondering, do you have a spare rubber........hose? I need one for the Tardis." (I know what you were thinking, naughty fans...shame on you!)

"Blimey, Martha, I do wish you'd stop lobbing things at the back me head, to get my attention--I'm tired of combing spitballs out of my hair!"

"You humans, do have some...interesting ideas about entertainment. I know the BBC's hard up lately, but...celebrity nose picking? That's just---oh, look! Posh has found something interesting..."

Who we are, is not what we do, or where we live, or how we dress--it's not the possessions we own that define us--although, on a shallower level, our possessions (or lack thereof) can, in some small way, define us, certainly. Our possessions--to the degree based on how much we value them--can help us to define ourselves, and also, for those who see them after our passing...tho' to others, usually, our personal possessions often mean little, personally. But, talk to any person who's studied the past, and he or she will tell you that possessions do define who we are/were, to some extent.

But, deep down, I believe, who we are, is more spiritual, than anything. Oh, I don't mean religion (unless of course, religion is your prime motivator in life), but more, human nature is partly guided by personal motives, yes--basic needs and wants, but..what happens to us, when we are stripped of the material, of our possesions, our income, our homes--even the bulk of our attire--who are we then?

Ask yourself, "what am I, without all the window dressing--who am I, without my material supports?"

A difficult question, methinks---for some, more than others, perhaps.

Strip us down to the bare essentials, and what is society, what is humanity? Would we turn into base animals, or embrace and comfort each other?

We are by nature, reactors--we come from the earth (I'm not a fundamentalist), meat-eaters, hunters and gatherers, a tribe of lost souls, clinging together to the fragile crust of this planet Earth. Thinking is really secondary to our natures, survival is our most base instinct--yet, even in those pre-historic times, did we want to believe in something more--something that was outside ourselves?

And why did we/do we want to believe? To believe in something better, to believe we can be more---or is spirituality just something we've invented, to make us feel better about ourselves--or, even baser, to help absolve ourselves of responsibility and/or logical reason?

If you like good writing--humourous, thrilling and thought-provoking stories, I found a nice website by a British author:

http://www.bookscape.co.uk/short_stories/scam_story.php

Accord 100 story page: www.nbgolash.blogspot.com/

To have a positive outlet this summer, I've been writing stories to raise awareness for a hospice programme in Renfrewshire, Scotland. I've been doing this in memory of a lovely woman named Helen McDonald (actor David Tennant's mother), and all of her work there, and also in honour of all the other patients of Accord.

Accord has a website: www.accord.org.uk Here you can see for yourself, all of the caring and love and joy, that is given to the patients of Accord and their families.

While my "Drabble-a-thon" as I call it (because the stories I am writing are "drabbles"--100 word stories) is less than successful, sadly (I get less than a half-dozen readers a day, on average), I have, since 22nd July, managed to garner 8 sponsors, who've helped to raise a total of 90 pounds for Accord. As I say, not hugely successful, but something's better than nothing, I suppose.

I'm currently on day 43, having written 43 stories so far. It's sometimes a tiny bit disheartening, not to be read--and more so, not to have raised more funds, but that's to be expected, as I'm absolutely nobody, and not a great writer, to boot--and , I don't have loads of friends, I'm almost literally a hermit, as a matter of fact, and that's no exaggeration.

My "Drabble-a-thon" stories for Accord, vary according to my whim--tho' I do go to some pains, not to write two similar stories back-to-back, but space out the type of story that's printed each day.

Stories have ranged from ghost/suspense stories, to westerns, humour, Dr Who fan fiction, historical, animal stories, love stories and a detective story.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here are three samples of my writing:

The Solomon Diamond

In the casino, Russ sat at a table, sipping a single-malt, waiting for his “guest.” Entering his office that morning, the detective found a note taped to his door. He took a cab to the Club Rio at 7pm, as instructed--with money, no questions asked.

A swarthy man sat down next to him. “I have the Solomon diamond.” The detective chuckled. “No you don’t, Reynard.” The man started. “Oh yes, I know you. And, I have the diamond already.” The thief’s hand darted to his pocket--Russ already had out his pistol----“Got’cha! Now, the diamond, if you please?”

Out for a Bite

The roofs and chimney pots glistened in the rain. Gas lamps sputtered, as night closed in. In the street, there were three men; One tall, in a frock coat, a skinny one in tweeds, and a fat man in a floppy hat and cape.

The tall man said, “You say you want proof? I can show you--follow me.” They followed him into the murky alley--only to turn and run--but the fat man was too slow, and shrieking, died. The skinny man was later placed in an asylum, for no one believed he’d been attacked by a vampire.

The Garden

They were working in the garden, as they had for the past fifty-four years. Sam was pruning his wife’s roses. Suddenly, Anne stumbled, looking pale and wan. “You alright?” He asked. “No,” she whispered, “I feel weak.”

“It’s your heart.” The doctor said, “You’ve not long to live.” Four weeks later, Sam sat on what was their wedding bed. He held Anne’s cold hand, tears coursing down his cheeks. “I wish I could see our garden,” she whispered. “I brought it to you,” He said, placing a red rose in her hand. She smiled, closed her eyes, and Sam wept.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you can see--and read, for yourself, I'm no great shakes as a writer, but I try. I am not doing this for a pat on the back, obviously, and certainly, not to make a difference in the world--rather, I just wanted to do something constructive with my life, before I pass on, myself, and also...just because. I liked what I read about Accord. I'd wanted to do something for charity for a while, and Accord just seemed to fit the bill nicely. And even tho' I'm well aware that what I'm doing will have no impact on anyone, won't change the world, or make it a better place. I know that I did something, other than just sit here, rotting away, waiting to die someday.

Accord Drabble-a-thon 100 stories blog: www.nbgolash.blogspot.com/

Visit Accord at: www.accord.org.uk and sign their guest book!

www.justgiving.com/nbgolash Visit this page to join my efforts by becoming a sponsor.

DAY 43

STORY #43

Driving the Doctor

“No! Now, you’ve landed on a strange planet, what do you do?” Theta grimiced, “Eh, let my companion exit first, so she can get attacked by the monster?” Scowling, the examiner shouted, “Some Time Lord you’ll be! You’ll never properly operate a Tardis, if you live to be 950 years old!”

It's only half-past nine here, in my part of the world, but it feels like the pocket-sized hours of the morning. I'm rather weak from the shopping trip, I fear. I really am turning into my mother, damn.

Got some good suggestions from some Tennant fangirls, regarding my next Accord story...think I might go with the one, where the Doctor's taking his Tardis driving exam--or maybe I make it his first lesson, ha-ha. An interesting concept, something that we who drive, or have driven, can all relate to.

The cats are fed and content, bully for them. I had a light dinner tonight...just some tinned pasta and a small lettuce salad, whoopie for me.

Well...this is a boring blog entry. Guess I'll have to think of something more interesting to write, later. Bye for now.

Oh yeah, heaven uses my head for toilet paper.

I didn't get that $92 check the government said I was going to get, today. Not only that, but, I got a letter in the mail telling me I couldn't have it, 'till I gave them my pay check info--which I ALREADY DID give them---damn-it!!!

So now, I can't pay for my internet service--because it's down to internet service or a roof over my head--and the internet has got to go--I can't spare the $91 dollars, now, at all! So, guess I'm leaving Blog UK, whether I want to, or not.

What I'm going to maybe have to do, with Accord, is after all, write the remaining stories in one shot, and post them, just before I'm disconnected--which could be any day now, by the way.

On top of that...oh, never mind. I'm promised myself to keep mum about the other thing, but this I'll say, my friends, things aren't good. And if I just drop out of sight...sorry. That's just the way the ol' biscuit crumbles.

Well, I'm told David Tennant switched on some lights in Blackpool, UK, tonight. Tough job, but someone's got to do it--somehow I feel a "how many Doctor's does it take to turn on a lightbulb?" joke, coming on---but I promise I'll restrain myself.

Just came from a Dr Who chatroom--wow. Now I do feel old!

Geez--some of those people on there are really intense--I mean, I adore Dr Who, but not to the point where I act like it's real, or take an actor or actress leaving the show, personally!

Wow, that was a bit of a...trip. I mean, I was a big-time Whovian, back in my 20's. I mean-totally Dr Who. I had seen every single eppy--at least twice, that was available to see, even clips from lost episodes and all the movies, read every book and mag I could get my hands on, was a trivia judge, did PR for my club and actually talked a reporter into coming to our meeting, did public TV fund drives with our club, volunteered at the BBC's traveling American exhibit, went to the conventions in my native Albany, and also Boston and down to Manhattan, and yes, had a Tom Baker-ish costume, of sorts. But wow--I never once took anything to do with the show (except the cancellation) personally, or got mad about anything. I mean, some of these "new" fans? They actually do get SERIOUSLY angry about stuff. Wow...bit of an eye-opener, I must say. Times really have changed, I guess. People are losing their perspective at a rapid rate, methinks.

Think I'll go back in when things calm down a bit. Wow. I'm definitely getting old and tired, methinks--these "new" fans do my head in, they do. Wow.

Not sure what this is...but...it's different.

Well, that awful video advert is gone now--what was with that??? If it keeps coming back tho', my bad eye just can't handle that flashing blue button--wow, really was hard to look at the screen.

Ah well.

Bored with life on his family's South Carolina horse farm, Willard McCormick decided that military service was the right plan for his future. And when the Army dangled its new, $20,000 recruiting bonus in front of him, the decision got a lot easier.

"I wasn't going to go right away, but I heard about the bonus and decided to jump on it," McCormick, 19, said a couple of days after signing up.

The new bonus comes with a "Quick Ship" provision that cuts the average 40-day wait time between sign-up and departure for basic training.

Since the bonus was unveiled in July, more than 6,200 recruits have signed up to begin basic training before Oct. 1, a move that boosts end-of-fiscal year recruiting numbers, Army officials said.

"People are calling here saying $20,000 is more than they've made in the past two years," said Staff Sgt. Brent Feltner, 27, commander of a strip-mall recruiting station in this central South Carolina town.

The Army's offer stands out to many in a state where the unemployment level is fourth highest in the country, at 5.9 percent in July, up from 5.5 percent in June. It was 6.2 percent in July a year ago.

Plus, the bonus comes on top of other benefits, such college tuition assistance, and medical and dental care.

"There's not a job out there that they can enter with zero experience, that will help them pay for college," Feltner said.

Half the bonus is paid out on completion of basic training and training in individual specialties, some of which can take at least a year, Feltner said. The remainder is to be doled out over the course of active-duty enlistment, which must be for at least two years, although some specialties require longer enlistments.

"We've had a good August. It's been a good tool to use," said Smith, who added the bonus will help the Army reach a goal of recruiting 80,000 soldiers in fiscal year 2007.

After missing its monthly recruiting goals for two consecutive months, the Army announced in August that it had slightly exceeded its target for July. It signed up 9,972 people, up from the 9,750 it was hoping for.

gt. John Tate, another recruiter in the Lexington office, said the Army's job options, not just the bonuses, play a big role in recruiting. One female recruit who signed up recently opted to become a paralegal with a subspecialty in airborne parachutist training.

"She wanted to jump out of planes, but she also wanted inside, office work," Tate said.

I just can't stand to look at my blog page!

This is why...

I'm partly blind in one eye--and this big video box with the blinking, whopping great blue light in the middle of it, bothers me PHYSICALLY to look at---I cannot make my eye focus on my own blog page, without my eye constantly jumping to this Godawful ad!

This is not fun, folks, and isn't that what blogging is supposed to be (mostly), fun?

Well, I know I will miss you all, but unless BUK (which rhymes with a naughty word that I am associating them with, right now), has a sudden change of heart, and gets rid of this filthy bad blinking video ad--no.

I love you guys, but this is just that unpleasant for me--it's not just the ad--it really does bother me physically to look at my blog page now. And most blogs DO NOT do this!!! My Blogger doesn't and not one of the other half-dozen sites I've used have done this, it is ONLY Blog.uk that does, and I stand by that.

I'm so pissed off about these new, totally intrusive video adverts being stuck in the middle of my blog, that I'm gone, as of tomorrow.

I will post my new blog address--when i find a new blog site I like--tomorrow.

There's no way in hell, I can ever afford a pro account. My blinking income just went--literally, very, very, literally--below the govt.'s poverty level for a single person.

And quite frankly, these new video adverts are so annoying to me, and, distracting, that they are genuinely interfering with my pleasure of blogging--which is the whole idea of me blogging in the first place--pleasure.

When something interferes with your fun, you find something else to do, or somewhere else to go.

No choice. I am a person that doesn't just "put up" with things---if I don't like something, I try to do something about it---often unsuccessfully, but still...if I just "put up" with it...I'd feel like a blinking sheep...and what's the point of that?

Okay, I've had to put up with these stinking pop up ads in my blog, since I came on here--even tho' blog uk has insisted the ads "don't pop up," which is the dumbest statement blog.uk has ever made, quite frankly.

Now, I have to put up with a video ad! Screw that!!!

I find that distracting, annoying and TOTALY invasive. So, if so much as one more video advert pops up in my blog again, sorry--love blog UK put I have to draw the line, somewhere. I am leaving this blog for good.

I have no money for a pro account, and this is blatantly forcing me to make a choice between my enjoyment of blogging and their greed. I come first. So, if these intrusive video adverts continue, I am out of here, sadly.

If you want to help, please send a comment to blog.uk, asking them to get rid of the video adverts! They suck!!!

They are a bit arrogant about such things, obviously, but maybe if enough members get on their case, they will think twice.

A young man was in a shoe store, trying on a pair of new Converse trainers.

"These don't feel right." He said to the sales clerk.

The clerk noticed the young man had the tongue of the shoe jammed down by his toes.

"Try it with the tongue out, perhaps?" He suggested.

"Theeth sthill donth fheelth rithhh." The young man replied.

Mum used to have this picture on the wall of her bedroom, where she could look at it durning those long hours in bed--it often made her chuckle. Talk about a picture being worth a thousand words--or rather, a thousand "mews"

"Laugh at me again, and I'll rip your privates off and eat them for lunch."

Kermit the Frog's understudy...

Courtesy of Mrzombiepants: Those mice will never suspect the frog MWAHAHAHAAAAA!!!

Got a better one? Leave it in the comment line, and I'll post it in the blog later.

"Show me the way to go home, I'm tired and I wanna' go to bed. I had a little drink 'bout an hour ago, and it went right to my head..."

Well, work's done for the night. So-so night on sales--started off well, then I crapped out at the end, damnit. Ah well, that's how it goes. I was ringing up members of a car club--the wives are often difficult to deal with, with car club guys--jealous over a car, how sad is that? Glad I'm not married, ha-ha.

(Reeeowerrr---hisss! Spat!) Man, those car club widows are nasty!

Well, going to bed early--not bothering with the Accord Hospice story tonight, I'll write something tomorrow morning or afternoon, when I get 'round to it. Only a handful of die-hard friends are even reading it--about 4 to 6 people a day, on average, so I don't think the world will end if I post a late entry for Story #42/Day 42 on Saturday, as long as it's in by midnight GMT. Accord doesn't even know the Drabble-a-thon exists, so no worries there, whether it's on time or late, tomorrow--my friends know about my ill health, so I'm sure they'll understand if it's late.

Fat Charlie is weighing down my right shoulder, purr-snorting in my ear (he half-purrs through his nose, wee odd cat that he is). I swear, if even some movie company, needed a live cat to act as a stationary object--Charlie would fit the bill nicely--he hates to move...unless he sees a bird, or it's dinner time, that is.

So, going to bed early--without the drabble story tonight, there's little reason to stay up past 11. I'll watch a Dr Who eppy (Utopia), and hit the sack early.

"Damn! When are they going to put a heated litterbox for me out here?"