I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Wow, two more people have told me they've visited my online fantasy 'wish-list' site. Whoa. How'd they ever find it? Well, I finally found out--they both know my full name, so they must have Googled it, because when I did (okay, how many of you HAVEN'T Googled yoorself, at least once?) I found that it's still on there. Whoa. Hey, people, it was just window shopping--just like I did a few posts ago--it's NOT REAL. Okay? It was just me passing the time.

You see, when I was wee, we used to get, just before Christmas, the Montgomery Ward toy catalog--and my window shopping fetish started young, yeah? But, it's just pretend. Usually, when I do come into money, I usually have to spend most of it on dull stuff: repairs, bills, socks and underpants, stocking the cupboard, stuff like that. I've only rarely had funds to buy what I REALLY want. Early last winter, one month i was able to treat myself to some "luxuries," like a couple of CD's, and a new throw rug, a knick-knack, a paperback book, a new dress, stuff like that.

Whoops! I accidentially messed up the computer, and cut this entry off. Anyway, I had no idea, more than a year and a half down the road, that anyone would even know about my Things I Want.com wishlist! I'd honestly forgotten all about it, ages ago! Huh, very strange. I'm starting to feel a bit like a pop-star, ha-ha!

"Who me? Okay, yeah...I am wearing ladies red satan knickers...they're just sooo-comfy, you know?"

I'm a bit saddened--okay, very saddened, that I won't be able to take a planned day off, now. I'd scheduled to have the 14th off, so that I might go down to Albany to put flowers on my late-mum's grave...something which I'd not been able to do, for two years now, for various reasons. But, when I'd scheduled the day off, well in advance, I'd no idea my finances would be in such dire straights--so, no hope for it, but to cancel the bus trip down there--heck, I couldn't even afford the flowers, let alone the round-trip bus fare. Life stinks.

Casual Dress (The "real" me!)

Artists/songs I'm listening to, today:

The Proclaimers/Come on Nature, Redeemed
Paul McCartney/All my Loving
Barenaked Ladies/This is Where it Ends
Even Elroy/Another Song About Life
Weezer/Island in the Sun
Cake/Ain't No Good
The Guggenheim Grotto/Told You So
The Goldstars/Devil Queen
The Bridley Brothers/Hurricane
Fleetwood Mac/Go Your Own Way, Over My Head
Dave, Dee, Dozer, Beaky, Mick and Tich/Hold Tight
Sister Hazel/Green
The Jam/Liza Radley, see saw
Guess Who/No time
The Kinks/Susannah's Still Alive

Since I'm stuck here in this lame little northern city--we barely even have a crime rate, it's so quiet here! Well, I'm going window shopping on the internet. On my imaginary shopping trip, I'm going clothes buying (I'm imagining that I'm rich and can buy whatever I want-within reason, of course).

Here's my "posh" choices:

As the days grow ever-more shorter, and the wind blows colder, so too, do my hopes. My hope of providing a decent life for myself, of being truly self-supportive, is slowly dissolving, like the shrinking afternoon light. My fear, growing, like a mountain of ice in my heart, like the darkness that envelopes the winter dusk.

Well, I won't have to worry about anyone greeting me this way...hell, half the time no one even notices when I walk into the office--"oh? you're here then? I didn't see you come in..."

DOCTOR: "That's....that's....just the most hideous thing, I've seen, in all my 950 plus years!"

DOCTOR: "Posh and Beck are playing Romeo and Juilet!"

I sometimes kid around about the David Tennant fan-girls, but truthfully, I was a fan-girl once...okay, okay...twice. Ohhh-okay, you've twisted my arm--three times.

The first time was in the early 70's, when David Cassidy was on the Partridge Family. I had a serious crush on the guy. I remember when he came to do a concert at a local performing arts center, screaming his name and jumping up and down in the seat.

I was, I think, about 12 or 13, at the time. After that, in '73/74, I had a tiny little crush on a Native-American actor named Randolf Mantooth, who was in a very popular TV series about two Los Angles firefighters/paramedics, called "Emergency!" http://www.voyagerliveaction.com/rolespage.html (This series was directly responsible, for volunteer fire departments, in towns and villages--incl. mine-- across the nation, getting their own paramedics or EMT's.)

In Oct. of 1974, when I turned 14, my mum surprised me with a record album--John Denver's Greatest Hits--and thus, with the first turn of a record on a turntable, a SERIOUS fan-girl was born!

I felt that Denver's music sort of spoke to my own inner feelings. For several years, I would prowl the magazine racks for articles and photos, drag my parents to the record stores, spend hours listening to his records, had posters on the wall, and even talked my mum into taking me down to New York City (a three or four hour bus trip) to see him in concert, in 1976, and again in, I think, in '78 or'79. Okay, probably shouldn't admit this, but I sort of even looked like him--dutchboy haircut and round, gold wire-rimmed glasses, western shirts...mum used to say that I had "JohnDenver-itis," ha-ha.

And if anyone of you tells anyone I said any of this, I will hire a hit man masquerarading as a livestock inspector from Fargo, North Dakota, to shove garlic down your underpants while you are sleeping.

Half-past four in the morning and still wide awake! Dang! Too much caffine? Manic phase? Stress/worries? No clue. All I know is that I'd love to sleep, but I can't. It's going to be hell tomorrow. At least I can sort of sleep in, and extra hour or so. Thank goodness for that.

"Why does everyone keep calling me a geek? By the way, have you read that new Linux manual? Fascinating reading..."

Once again, I'm attempting to jot off a quick poem before bedtime.

(Untitled)

Howling 'round the eaves, like a wolf in the
Long dark days of late autumn, notes lingering,
Rising and falling, the breathing of the
Distance runner, the side-slipping riff of a skilled jazz
Piano player. Skittering crab's legs,
Mottled brown leaves run away from
Brittle, icy fingers. November winds, stampeding,
Head high, red nostril's flared, white-eyed stallion,
Fiercely driving home the message, that
Winter is pounding at our door.

"I'm playing a giant Lolliepop Kid...because of my hair, you see?"

Here's a blatantly honest road sign, if I ever saw one:

Sadly, my finances are still precarious, and look to be for quite a while yet. My pay rate was restored, and takes effect with this week's pay cheque, but a couple of months of short cheques and shorter work hours, has taken a terrible toll on my purse strings, and, any poor person will freely tell you, that you can fall down into the cracks very quickly, and all too easily--but crawling out from the crack can be a long, lonely and arduous climb--and sometimes, you just stay there. Forever. Until you die. Not pretty, but all too true.