I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Nancy has asked me to pass on her farewells to you all, and I do this willingly, but sadly.

Please wish my blog friends a happy New Year and Merry Christmas for me, and tell them I shall miss them all a great deal, and that at this time, it's unlikely I'll be back online at home, any time soon. If you could let them know that they can PM me as "dustyboots," on the this (DWO) website I'd appreciate it.

Nancy has shared her joys and her troubles with us since she joined Blog.co.uk and it seems strangely empty without her. I hope this isn't the last we shall see of her here. She has asked me to pass on her home address to anyone who wishes to write to her. Just PM me. GoingSomewhere

"Okay, all you kids that insist in writing text-speak, leave the room! And don't come back until you learn how to write proper English!"

"Okay, so, let me get this straight, evil alien guy, you want my companion here to sing 'It's Raining Men,' while I do a strip tease, or you'll blow us all to smithereens? Meh--okay, works for me."

moar funny pictures

Well, just had to shell out 3 bucks for a cab home, as there's a thin coating of ice encasing everything: handrails, sidewalks, streets, steps. I've had quite enough sprains, breaks and bruises for one year, thank you very much. I'll spend the three dollars.

By the way, when I go "dark," those of my friends that have my address here in northern NY, may write me if they wish--and if you're one of my friends (you know who you are) who doesn't have it but wants it, you may sent me a message and I will give it to you. (Obviously, I won't post my real name and address on here.)

My health is rather poorly tonight, so I must cut this short. Well, I feel the shadow of something bad, looming in my future. Though my Daily Mail horoscope claims everything's coming up roses for me this month--what a load of bumf.

I was on my Dr Who fiction page, and there's this one story that's getting TONS of reads! I don't understand why, either, as it's not one of my better ones. It's a 10th Doctor story, and takes place in a cemetery in 19th Century Wales. I wrote it purely for fun, and, well, I can relate to 19th Century cemeteries, being I've spent loads of time in the one near my childhood home--so I thought it would be a bit of a lark to do a story in one--though true, it does take place 3500 miles from "my" cemetery, in a country I've never been to. As I recall, I had to do a bit of research for this story--but the plot's really lame, so I usually discount it as being a good story--apparently I'm mistaken. And, being as I became rather attached to this story, for once I don't mind being wrong.

Well, as I said, I'm not great tonight--got a bit tired of everyone noticing my "lump,"--now I know how Quasimoto must have felt--only mine's smaller and in my jaw--but I've this big red circle in the middle of it--so people couldn't miss it, I guess.

So, off to bed, to try and sleep. Then, up early and have another long day to slog through tomorrow. Nite all. Cheers.

The republicans may lie to themselves (and the public) all they want--but this IS a borderline recession. The Red Cross---which is screaming in the news how they've had to shell out 10,000 dollars in two weeks, to fire victims (they're only one of two volunteer agencies that help fire victims in our area--the other, much smaller agency, "After the Fire," only operates in Saratoga County).

Salvation Army, homeless shelters, food pantry's, churches, etc., all say that donations are way, way down.

At my job, this time last year, we were running full-tilt--even had an extra office rented, to handle the overflow of seasonal employees, and, even more unheard of, us regular employeees, were being actually paid overtime.

This year: ha! The night shift is still fairly full, but day shift is way down what it was, and work is only just trickling in.

And the people I talk to on the phone--hundreds and hundreds out of work, underemployed (underpaid), or working 7 days or two jobs, just to keep the roofs over their heads.

Elderly and disabled people, giving up small pleasures like magazines and gardening and other little hobbies, so that they can pay for food and medicine and rent/mortgage/taxes.

The economy is booming--for the upper middle class and rich, and even for some middle class--but there's a whole swath of America that is totally being ignored by the Bush admin, and many of their so-called fellow citizens, and I firmly believe it's going to, someday, come back and bite the Republicans--and the rest of America, in the arse. Mark my words.

Moving on,

I had a box of cereal that I'd bought on sale but haven't been able to eat (it's the crunchy kind), so I gave that to the food pantry.

And so, I ask all my American readers--please, if you can spare it--even one item, please, please give to your local community food cupboard. If you don't know where it is, just ring up your local pastor, priest or town hall, and ask.

The people you help to feed, are NOT a lot of freeloaders. They are people like me, like you, like your mum and your dad, your gran and grandpa. They are the elderly, the disabled, working mums, the unemployed (just because someone's unemployed doesn't mean he or she doesn't want to work--only an I-D-I-O-T thinks that), and the underemployed.

Trust me, it is the truth, that in America, you can "work for a living" and still go hungry! Anyone who thinks otherwise, probably voted for George Bush, and probably has a genetic defect in his family tree.

Anyway---gosh, I have been in a mood, of late, haven't I?

I just gave the cheap classless pigs at blog.co.uk an earful.

I'm sick of this crap!

This blog just keeps getting worse and worse and worse with these low-class adverts.

I really don't want to be associated with an online whorehouse.

I don't want to leave my friends, but my service is being cut off anyway, and I really do find these adverts cheap and disgusting. I don't want to look at some broad in lingerie or showing off her tits, while I'm eating my lunch--or anytime, for that matter.

This blog is being run now, but cheap, lowlife chavs, who'll obviously do anything for a Euro.

Well, enough is enough. If I'm still online, I'll give the lowlife bums a week to clean up their act--but won't be holding my breath.

If you object--simply go to Bcuk's homepage, click on "CONTACT US" and make your voice heard!

Or, if you enjoy these adverts--find another blog to read, ey? I don't want any pervs on my blog.

But I do not allow comments by children under 13 years of age. Come back when you grow up and have something actually INTELLIGENT to say, ey?

"To tell you the truth, women lust after me so much these days, that I don't even have to bother with foreplay, any longer. I just put my larger and chips down, strip off my kit, and bob's yer uncle, we have lift-off!"

I am so bad, today. Naughty girl.

Ah yes, nothing stands for the pride of being the leader of the free world, like a big, wet fart.

Animal House in the West Wing

He loves to cuss, gets a jolly when a mountain biker wipes out trying to keep up with him, and now we're learning that the first frat boy loves flatulence jokes. A top insider let that slip when explaining why President Bush is paranoid around women, always worried about his behavior. But he's still a funny, earthy guy who, for example, can't get enough of fart jokes. He's also known to cut a few for laughs, especially when greeting new young aides.

Somehow I don't think, when he helped to create this office, that this is quite what George Washington had in mind. Our founding fathers must be rolling over in their respective graves, and Laura Bush is truly a chav, if she puts up with this sort of behaviour from her hubby.

"Sorry yer majesty, I didn't mean to cut the cheese in yer face, there, he-he."

Go here: http://www.fart-joke.com/farting_dog_harmonics.htm

You can thank me later.

So, some well-meaning person from another website, sent me a note this morning. She was commiserating with me on the fact that I've lost the use of my DVD player, with the old, "why don't you?"

"They have a DVD player on sale at Walmart for $__. Okay, for that price, I can buy two to three weeks worth of groceries, or visit the optometrist, or go down by bus to put some flowers on mum's grave, or buy a couple of new work outfits and perhaps a new pair of jeans. Yeah, I'll just skip out the the money tree outside, and shake off a couple of notes, ey?

Oh well, she meant well, I suppose.

Well, it's about 8 in the morning, and I'm going to attempt to eat some breakfast.

Going to be a long, long day. I was told to take the week off, but my budget simply won't allow for that--and, my employer might fire me, so not gonna' do it.

I'm not feeling as well this morning as I was last night, but hopefully it's just the early morning blah's. Hopefully.

It's deeply overcast this morning--how depressing! There's a small snowstorm in the works for Thursday, I hear. We're supposed to get freezing rain and snow this afternoon, into this evening...so that'll be a fun walk to and from work.

It's my split shift day: 10 to 3, 5 to 9. Yuk. I don't mind funky hours, you more or less get used to it--in fact, it's perfectly fine...when you actually like your job. Let me tell you, it's a major drag when you don't especially like your job, or the company you work for. Still...beats working at McDonalds, or cleaning loos at the casino/race track. But yeah, I miss working M-F, 9 to 5. That was nice.

I read where the Midwest is expecting more ice storms--better them than us. I don't know how I'd get to work this year, with that--what with my wonky foot and all.

I had a rough day, but I'm hopeful that the proceedure--which was horribly painful, not to mention unpleasant, will work. They're concerned about the infection getting into my brain. I've had enough brain damage in my lifetime, thanks, don't need anymore.

Speaking of brain damage, I'm seriously getting concerned--okay, let's be honest. I'm scared--not scared-scared, but...it's a uneasy feeling, knowing your mind isn't working properly.

It's especially becoming prevalent in my writing. Lately, more and more I'm substituting one word for another (like "here" for "hear")--which has never happened before in forty years! I'm not talking once in a while, either, but more and more frequently, I'm making stupid mistakes I'd not have made 6 or 8 months ago.

My memory is suffering as well. I can't remember how to spell words I could easily spell just a few months ago, I can't remember coworker's names--that sit next to me! I still have not found my wallet. Last month I lost my electric bill--which has not happened once, in the year I've lived here. It's scaring the hell out of me. I don't know what to make of it--and the thing is, I can actually feel it getting worse.

I've a feeling, if you were to compare the stuff I was writing a year ago, with the stuff I am writing now--you might see a subtle difference--maybe not..I don't know.

I just know, of late, that I feel horribly lost and confused, I actually, almost physically feel like I am atrophying.

Not much I can do about it, I suppose. There's no one here to take care of me, but me, so I just have to shrug and keep going.

The worst part is though, that I made the mistake of telling a co-worker, and she just poo-poohed it, like it was nothing. It sure doesn't feel like nothing. Or, maybe it is.

I know Mr. Tennant's been getting loads of (much deserved) accolades, of late--just read where he and his co-stars of the film, "Recovery," have gotten one more--their film rated #26 for the year's top television programmes. Well done!

It was a very sensitive and realistic approach to the subject, and I don't imagine it was easy for Mr. Tennant, with his obviously very hectic life and work schedule, to have to do his homework and digest what he'd have to do, to play the character realistically. But he did do it, and is to be congratulated for that.

On top of that, I also hear, that he's still helping the brain injury charity that assisted him in his research. I know there's quite a few people that would have moved on and forgotten about it, so it's nice to see that Mr. Tennant isn't one of those people.

Ah, Mr. Tennant, you may not be my type (too trendy for this old maid, ya' don't comb yer blasted hair, and--really sorry, but, your're just a tad too adolecent for me)...but you are a fine, fine actor and seem to have a good heart...and well, you're okay, Tennant, I like a guy who cares.

Well, I've been trying to decide what books to read, by going over my four book shelves and scoping things out. Without internet and movies, I will go stir crazy if I don't find something to do, so I made a list of books I want to re-read:

Famous horse stories, collected by C. W. Andersen.

Wuthering Heights

Treasure Island

Shakespeare of London

Dr Who: Deadly Reunion

A Murder on the Apian Way, by Steven Saylor

Star Struck Dead by Sheila York

The Ferguson Rifle by Louis L'amour

The Last Legion

Frankenstein

This was Cicero: Modern Politics in a Roman Toga

Lady in the Lake

Eugene Grandet

The Great Gatsby

Nickel and Dimed, by Barbara Ehrenreich

Walden

I'll Take Cappy by McCabe Fagan (horse story)

Well, I guess I'll see how far I get with those. A co-worker offered to take me to the big bookstore--Borders, I think-- in downtown Saratoga Springs, the one with the Dr Who books, and all the latest mystery's and westerns, as well---gosh, I hear Kathy Reichs AND Steven Saylor both have new books, and that the store is stocking more New Dr Who stuff--including the magazine, now, as well.

Ah well, dream on Nancy. I have a nice Christmas tree, I still have a roof over my head and my cats, and my good friends--who seem to be trying to look after me, bless them. xx What more do I need? I'm okay--I've been fighting pain, and depression, grief and financial woes, but...I'm okay, really. I'm...maintaining.

The #1 book that I've read most often is...(since 8 years old)

I have no idea who just sent me that surprise delivery from Drugstore.com, but THANK YOU.

Whoever you are, you are an angel. Thank you.

DOCTOR: "Quick everybody, out of the Room--it's about to explode into a ball of flame!"

By-stander: "What's happening, Doctor?"

DOCTOR: "I just farted and that big balding gent over there is about to light a cigar--now shift!"

It's been a long haul today--I didn't work, as I had something done with my jaw...not going to discuss it here, as it's not appropriate, but I'm horribly sore and tired after a very painful experience.

Before I left this morning, I did the final page of my new recipe blog. http://justplaincooking.wordpress.com/ It's no big deal, but I liked the idea of having my and my family's recipes posted on the net to share--although I'm sure some of them have been posted before. Some of the recipes are my own original recipes, many are from mum's recipe box, collected over the course of 40 some-odd years of cooking. Some are even older, a few from mum's mother, and great-grandmother, and two from my great-aunt Carrie, of whom I know very little about, other than she had a farm in the early part of the century--and I have photos of mum and other family members taken there. Mum and I went back, in the early 80's, to try and find it--but had not much luck. The farm lane was long gone, and mum couldn't remember quite which one it was. It made her rather sad, I think, tho' she tried to pass it off.

This was the farm where mum had to sleep in the same palor as her grandmother's coffin, where she used to get chased into the outhouse by a mean goose, and where she had her first real-life experience in finding out the phrase, "running around like a chicken with its head cut off" is actually true. Nevertheless, she also enjoyed her family visits to Aunt Carrie, I suspect.

Well, I'm going to rest awhile, methinks. Cheers.

As someone whom has lost old friends to drink drivers, I can't say this enough---people who knowingly and willingly drink and drive are in the same league as common thugs and murderers. Even if you don't actually, by some miracle, kill (murder) someone, you still, with your car that weighs a half a ton, have the potential to ruin innocent lives--not to mention what might otherwise be a memorable Christmas for a child or family.

Don't do it! Don't you dare! Do not drink and drive ever--by doing so, you will automatically turn yourself from a perfectly decent human being, into scumbag trash. If you're a selfish prat who simply doesn't care about others, then look at it this way, anything happens, your life will be completely ruined--possibly forever...just because you couldn't retrain yourself from giving someone else your keys.

Here's what happened to a family near my old hometown, when one young man didn't have the brains to get a ride home:

DWI (Driving While Intoxicated) causes a very close call

“I feel luckier than hitting the lottery. My kids are ok. If you seen it you can't believe they could survive it. It's unbelievable,” said the father.

Not satisfied with translating Doctor Who into French, Japanese, Korean and other languages, the BBC and Producer Russell T. Davies have come up with a whole new translation for a specific group of the world population--no, it's not Welsh, it's not Gaelic, it's---"boy-speak."

That's right, the soon-to-be released episodes of Series 2, will be aimed at two groups in general: adolescent boys, American men, and guys from Glasgow.

Here's a preview of what to expect:

a cross between Jonn Wayne and a lumberjack...

Your walk is:
Pimp/Thug Styles

http://www.quizgalaxy.com/result.php?q=78&r=1

On a whim, I took a UK English language test--geared towards immigrants, but I had nothing better to do, and Americans don't speak good English--I'm a telemarketer, who calls coast-to-coast, I say that with the utmost authority. So, apparently, I have a few "problem areas" that don't quite measure up to British standards of good grammar and/or reading comprehension, here's the results:

60
Total Correct 51

Grammar 20
Vocabulary and Usage 18
Reading Comprehension 7
Listening 6

Percentage score 85%
Your English level is Upper Intermediate. You will need to work on areas where you scored less well in this test. To accurately identify your problem areas at your level you will need a full Personal Assessment which includes an analysis of your written and spoken English from one of our Personal Tutors. See our website for details. Well done!

Take the test: (homepage) http://www.edufind.com/english/grammar/index.cfm

..and pass the ammunition. Ah yes, us Yanks are at it again---now we're shooting up a church. 8 people shot at one of those born-gain, mission churches in Colorado.

What would Jesus do? If he were American he would have bought a magnum .357, blew away Pontius Pilot and shot his way out of that Roman prison.

Oh, and at one church, I just heard, the gunman was killed by an armed security guard at the church.

Now, it's nice that there was someone there to stop the sniper--but...okay, there's just something so WRONG to me, about armed guards in a CHURCH. I mean, what kind of church needs ARMED guards?????

Okay, I'm NOT against organized religion in any way shape or form. I AM against any type of extremism--especially they type that is okay with, or worse, promotes, bigotry, hate, and/or violence. That includes churches who are okay with armed guards at the services. I mean, in a war zone, maybe, in an area with very high violent crime--but Colorado has none of these--oh, they have crime--but it's like the difference between the crime rate here in Glens Falls--where there's not been a murder in this city for a couple of years--and crime in downtown Manhattan---night and day. Why does a church--even one with thousands of members, need armed guards DURING a service? There should be no shock then, when a member vents his anger with a gun, instead of a bible--if you go along with armed men at your church service, then don't be surprised when another armed man shows up during a prayer meeting.

Some American religions have become so convoluted and twisted, in some areas, as to no longer truly represent the teachings of Christ, so much as the teachings of white trash, right-wing, money-grubbing, extremist-patriotic, bigoted, gun-loving, paranoid, schitzophrenic "Americans."

Well...there's another reason for me wanting to flee my country for Europe. And these people are paranoid about terrorists and Bird Flu? They should look in their own backyards, if they really want something to be scared about!

Stinking NRA and their stinking uneducated pseudo-patriotic gun-freaks.

I deleted the writing post. I came off sounding like I was whigning, when that's not at all what I meant. Sorry. You're comments were all read, and were appreciated, thank you.

"And the winner of the sexiest geek--erm, time lord is..."

Well, I'm just sitting here, enjoying the lights on the tree. Had a actual meal tonight, and am just siting here, trying to decide what book I should read. I've read 'em all, but some books I've not read in a while, so there's that. A bit bummed out about losing my DVD player, but maybe I can find my remote to the television, and after the internet's gone, hook up the VCR instead. I've got about a dozen VCR tapes, still.

I'm toying with the idea of selling my computer--without the internet and the DVD player, it's just an expensive word processor and game console, really. I bet I could get a 100 or even 200 bucks for it. But, that decision can wait until after Christmas.

Anyway, that's neither here nor there.

I sometimes really like a quiet winter night. I like the peace of looking out at the snow in the night, sitting with a good book, listening to music--maybe drinking some hot chocolate or coffee. I guess that makes me pretty boring, in some people's eyes, but I seldom find it so--well, sometimes I do. But, yo get used to it. And, as long as you're warm inside, when it's cold outside, that in itself can be a real comfort, sometimes.

"You could have just given me some minty-flavoured dog biscuits, ya'know."

It's a boring Sunday--and with the loss of my one and only DVD player on my computer, when the internet's shut off, my Sunday's will be even more dull, so I shouldn't complain, ey?

Anyway, I was toying with the idea of adding a few more family recipes to my recipe blog ( http://newyorkcooking.blogspot.com/ )but, am just too knackered and bleary-eyed to add the dessert section on, today. Maybe I will before I'm shut off, but I somehow doubt it.

Yesterday I fiddled with my dr who story blog (www.nbgwho.blogspot.com/) and where I'd posted a story chapter by chapter, in individual posts, I re-posted the chapters in one post, to make it easier to read. Must have worked, because the story got its first view, today.

Mostly, I'm just chilling out. I'm incredibly weak, today, I've found--whether it is from too much sleep or too much illness, I don't know. I tried to tidy the kitchen but nearly fell over, so put that on hold 'till later, when I might be feeling a bit stronger. The kitchen makes me wince--it needs a serious cleaning, as I've been too ill to do much more than through things in the bin and wipe down the counter, now and again. I got wise and spent two dollars on paper plates and plastic forks--something I didn't like to do, but I didn't want my sink to pile up with dirty dishes, either. It's actually been a big help, not having to worry about the washing up.

There's a bit of very light snow, falling out there. No big deal for us. Amazingly, some trees still have leaves on them--although, of course, they are all brown and shriveled. The maple tree in front of my windows, as still about 40 percent of its leaves...very strange to see, in December, for around these parts.

A lot of people out Christmas shopping. I went to K-Marts yesterday--not been there in about 8 or 9 months. It's a bit out of my way, now, without a car, and they are are sometimes a bit more expensive than some of the other stores--not by much, when you have a steady income, with a bit to spare--but when you're continually (literally) counting your pennies, you tend to stay away from places like that. Mum and I used to shop K-Mart's all the time.

Well, it was convenient--grocery and general merchandise all in one place. But, it was hard, going back there, for some reason, yesterday. I kept thinking about mum--I'd be shopping, and I'd hear her voice (in my imagination, not actually "hearing" her), and when I'd pass by some food she used to like (like Stoffer's escalloped apples--she adored those), I'd feel a stab in the old heart-strings. Or when I passed by the Christmas displays--mum used to like looking at them, and stuff...how many times did I get shooed away, so she could make a selection without me seeing what it was? It was nice, being in K-Mart again (a small step above Walmart, but a step above, nonetheless), but it was also filled with a touch of melancholy.

..so I'll let this trailer from BBC One say it all for me:

Went to bed around ten last night, got up about half past eleven this morning--in-between bouts of waking in the wee hours of the morning in raging pain. I did keep a cold compress on my jaw, much of the night, and this time it seems to have helped considerably, as much of the heat is down, though the lump isn't any smaller, and the pain has lessened somewhat. At least I was able to eat this morning without overmuch pain. Just cheese and crackers, but I hope I'll be able to do dinner tonight.

Yesterday, I bought a half-loaf of fresh in-store made Italian garlic bread, and went to the frozen foods section, and they had a good-sized mosticolli pasta and meatball dinner on sale for just 2 dollars--enough for two meals, the way my appetite's been this week, so I have lunch and dinner out of it. I'd of liked to have gone to the produce section, and bought a bag of some garden salad to go with it, but don't think my jaw can handle the crunchy stuff, just yet.

Even with the brief periods of waking (and getting more Motrin and refreshing my cold compress), I reckon, since I came home from work yesterday, I've slept between 10 and 12 hours! And feel even now, like I could sleep a few hours more. I knew I was horribly run down with this, but don't think I realized exactly how much.

WEll, I'm sure this blog entry will get loads of reads, ha-ha.

Anyway, it's cloudy and dreary and slightly chilly, 22 F (-6 C) out there...but our chances of snow has been reduced down to 50%, so maybe at least it will be dry, much of the day.

Cheers.

well, it's nearly ten, and though I took a long nap late this afternoon, the ol' abscessed jaw's playing hell, so I'm a bit tired from it, and decided I might be more comfy lying in bed with a book--and a cold pack to bring down the heat, than sitting in this half-baked old chair surfing the net.

I was watching some of Learners on YouTube--gosh, didn't Tennant do a cracking job with the part--it wasn't a huge part, but I think the man nailed it, just the same. Now there's the type of guy I could date an be comfy with--what's that say about me, I wonder? Knowing my luck though, he'd be just another one wanting to show me his bedroom decor.

I have to do laundry tomorrow, but just noticed the weather forecast--thankfully, in one way, it's changed--it was supposed to be an BAD ice storm (freezing rain and ice pellets), now it's been changed to just snow mixing with sleet, mostly. We northeasterner's won't have to dream of a white Christmas, this year, I reckon.

Here's the Glens Falls NY forecast from Sunday to Thursday:

SUNDAY:

HIGH -- LOW
27 F 23 F
-3c -5 C

CHANCE OF SLEET OR SNOW: 80%

MONDAY

HIGH---LOW
34 F 7 F
1 C -14 C

CHANCE OF FREEZING RAIN OR SNOW: 40%

TUESDAY

HIGH---LOW
32F 25F
0 C -4 C

CHANCE OF FREEZING RAIN, SLEET OR SNOW: 50%

WEDNESDAY

HIGH--LOW
37 F 20 F
3 c 7 C

MOSTLY SUNNY WITH SCATTERED CLOUDS

THURSDAY

HIGH---LOW
35 F 24 F
2 C -4 C

CHANCE OF RAIN, FREEZING RAIN, SLEET OR SNOW: 50%

Hope my UK friends make out okay in your big wind---or was that just one of your politicians giving a speech again? Or maybe David Tennant farting?

By the way, I call George W. Bush "Our Hoover President." Not after Herbert Hoover, but after the vacuum cleaner, 'cause he really does suck so well.

Nitey-nite all!

For three months, I've messing about with this naf 10-minute play. I think it's a real bomb, and after just scrapping some lines I wrote this morning, I think I'm going to bin this one altogether. I don't think it's working at all, and that's it's horribly dull. I was told tonight that someone likes my writing. But if anyone reads this, and still says I'm an okay writer--yeah, I don't think so. This is a real bomb, this one is. The audience would be snoozing before the first five minutes is up, ha-ha.

It's called, "Night Shadows," and is only the first (rough) draft--what you see is what I wrote the first time 'round, untouched by any editing or re-writes.

I wasn't going to post it, but I think I need to prove to some people, that I honestly am a no-talent. It's what I really do believe. I've read and seen good writing--really solid page-turners. I don't write page turners, I write crap. Well...read for yourself, if you don't believe me:

A Ten-minute play

JACOB: Not at all, sweetheart. What I mean is, dear, that if we neglect the little things that go wrong--then those things can worsen, and get out of hand. Why, suppos’n I didn’t repair that little bit o’ harness, and it broke while I was drivin’ you and your mother to town in the buggy? Well, then we’d have a rather serious problem on our hands, wouldn’t we? Now, I’m listening. Tell me, what is it that has you in such a tither tonight, Susan?

In this sequel to the Tinman Series, Scarecrow has been mysteriously sucked by a tornado from the Outer Zone to America, where he finds himeself elected president with both disastrous and hilarious results. Here's a scene from the movie:

comment:

isn't is so sad? Dating can be so wonderful, even if they don't lead to nothing. We still go to movies, take a good meal and they lead to nothing. So why say no dates? After all, there is so much to enjoy.

Not sad. I just got mad.

Every single stinking date, I was either having to say "no" 20 million times (as in, "let me show you my bedroom."), or "no" twenty million times to the guy who wanted to get me drunk (depsite the fact that I repeatedly told him I don't like alcohol), or "no" twenty million times, to the guy who wanted me to convert to his radical right-wing Christian religion (or, according to him, the "only true" religion).

Or, I had to sit through the lousy date, and hear bozo talk about his ex-wife, or his ex-girlfriend, or his other girlfriends, or how great he looks in a hot tub. Bleh. Not worth a free dinner and a movie to me, thanks. If I can't afford it myself, I just don't go.

It's true. In 47 years, no guy ever dated me, just for me. It was always, always for a million other reasons, other than the "man" just wanted to go out with me.

I can have a miserable time all by myself thanks, I don't need any help.

Dating: all the good one's are taken, gay or wouldn't date me in a million years. I'm better off on my own--and besides, who wants to date a woman they can't have..well, intimacy with? No guy in the world, that I know of. The very fact that I am not able to be intimate, that's a major turnoff for the modern guy, right there.

And, I imagine, I probably would be really boring on a date. I am not sure how to even do a date, any longer. I feel so awkward when I'm dressed all posh, sometimes..and guys want their women posh ALL the time.

The David Tennant thing really was just a joke--well, the guy, (and I'm purely guessing here), I imagine, probably dates from his own little circle--thin, beautiful actresses. I wouldn't be surprised, anyway. People like that seldom date plain ordinary folks--they aren't around us that much, I'm thinking, they don't want to date mundane, less-than-perfect women.

Terrific. Not.

I just found out my DVD player on my computer (let me rephrase that. My ONLY DVD player--which is the one on my computer) isn't working.

I thought at first it was the RealPlayer or the DVD, so I changed to Windows Media Player and a couple of different DVD's and ....nope. It's gone. Must have been that virus I got hit with a week or so back, it's messed up my DVD player big time.

So...not only losing my internet, I've now also lost my ability to watch Doctor Who and DVD movies as well.

So, basically, when they shut my internet off, I won't have--literally, literally won't have, anything to do in my spare time, but read (old books I've already read and re-read), write and stare out the window. Life sucks and then you die...if you're very lucky, you die young.

This is the prelude to my old age. I want to die young. I don't want this twenty years from now.

Before I get in more hot water with the fan-girls--that was just my weird sense of humour, in that earlier post--well, and the fact that I'd just tanked myself up on painkillers to get me through the day.

Oh, I really, very probably, wouldn't date him--I DO NOT date anyone, any longer. But, that said, if the man ever invited me for a cuppa, or a quiet stroll...I MIGHT think about it.

Honestly though? I genuinely cannot imagine, not even begin to fathom, any guy actually wanting to date me. It would just...boggle me, to be--sincerely--asked on a date...not a prelude to a quickie, or to show his ex that he's still got it (the usual reasons men have asked me out), but..yeah. It's not that I've not been attracted to guys, I just see the point of wasting my life mooning after someone that could care less about me.

I'd found one of the cat's old toys in a box recently--a furry mouse with streamers and a bell attached to it. The cats are overjoyed to have their toy back. Charlie's laying on it, quite contentedly, even as I write this. A contented cat is a comfort to its owner, as it is a very calm and peaceful sight.

Well, not been a bang-up day, today.

First, we were sent home early from the office, due to a massive system outage on the computer. Then, I said to myself---in a moment of depression and pain--"to hell with worrying about food budgets, I can't pay any bills anyway, why not buy what I want (within reason)?" So, instead of spending the 15 or 20 dollars I'd planned--initially I was just going to buy cat food, soda to drink, chips (crisps) and some deli cold cuts for sandwiches...but wound up spending 38 dollars instead--which I realize I'll probably regret later, especially as now I'll have to do half the laundry I'd planned on doing, and need to do.

So, came home with my groceries--only to find a shut off notice and threatening letter from the internet/phone company, Time-Warner, in my mailbox. No date for the shut off, but truly, my posts will be ending, soon, for good this time--'cause unless I suddenly get a fab job offer (haven't had one in 47 years, don't think it's going to happen now), inherit some money (unfortunately I've no rich elderly relations) or win the lottery (which I rarely ever play), it just ain't gettin' paid.

Ah well.

Spent the entire morning in a completely unhelpful meeting at work...now I'm just waiting for my soup to heat up on the stove. I'm going to eat and then lie down for a nap, later putter about the house. Just another dull, pointless and repetitious Saturday.

And Boots just barfed all over the iron radiator by the window--and now is barfing on my living room rug. I really wish God or life or whatever, would just give me a break, for crying out loud! Ugh!

So I was asked, earlier this week, why I wouldn't date David Tennant, and I thought I'd post a quick response here, as I've lost the person's e-mail address.

Reasons for Not Dating David Tennant:

1. He's skinny, I'm fat. We'd look ridiculous--like Laurel and Hardy without the hats.

2. By his own admission, he likes to fart...a lot.

3. He thinks belching is hilarious.

4. He never shaves or combs his hair in his off-time. Looks like one of the crazy winos I see outside our South Street bars.

5. I'm a mundane small town American, who enjoys a quiet life--I don't drink, or go out to concerts. I don't mind having to go places alone, if I have to (well, no choice now) also, I like working, but relish my downtime. He's a trendy big city boy who likes to be seen out and about on the town all the time, and seems to like having a girl with him wherever he goes--and he's a workaholic. Oil and water there, I'm guessing.

...as our pets. Oh wait, we are! (Farting, singing animated snowmen, farting..)

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Well, it's Saturday, whoopie.

It's 28 F (-2 C) and slightly overcast. supposed to get up into the upper 30's F, today, so not too shabby out there--I won't be appreciating it though, as I have to slog through 6 hours today. I was only physically able to work 3 hours last night, before I had to throw in the proverbial towel, due to pain and exhaustion. So, 6 hour shift today should be a cinch, right? Yeah. Don't make any bets on that.

The penicillin isn't working yet. I still have a good, solid golf-ball sized infection in my lower jaw. I'm reduced to having Instant Breakfast--I hate instant breakfast drinks-- and saltine crackers for my meals. I had soup last night--but my jaw doesn't open very far, so putting a spoon in my mouth is actually quite difficult. This morning I've got a mild fever, and am just soooo-tired, but I HAVE to work, my budget can't handle another day off. I desperately need a week off, but short of being fired, that's not going to happen. Those days of the luxury of being able to do anything like that, are long since gone.

And I know people will be prigs on the phone today--it's Saturday, no one wants telemarketing calls on Saturdays, especially not American chavs.

Well, won't be much of a Christmas this year, but at least, by gosh, I've got a nice tree. You'd be surprised how much being able to decorate for Christmas--even in a small way, means to someone like me. I enjoy decorating, and like sitting looking at my tree and stuff.

I've looked like hell at the office of late--I just plain look like hell--my hair, my clothing, everything. I try not to let it show, at the office, just how sick I really am--I laugh and joke and talk--but it's seriously the last thing I want to do. But I don't want anyone there to know just how bad I truly am, or how seriously depressed I really am. They know I'm bad sick, then just don't really know just how bad the bad, really is.

It's not good. I actually have to big illnesses I'm battling right now--my main illness, which is causing the severe anemia and heart failure, and now this abscess, which is almost as bad as bad can get--without being fatal. Thing is, my body is fighting these two things, and it's not leaving much energy to do much of anything else--even eat or do chores. But...

...nothing that can be done about that. I can sleep in tomorrow, for a time, tho' I do have to make a laundromat run at some point, tomorrow, if I want clean clothes for next week.

Well, if I don't get off my keyster, I won't be going to work today, so have a good day, all. See you tonight.

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Oil company executives and Washington politicians aren't the only greedy Americans, when it comes to gasoline (petrol).

Even ordinary Americans will completely ditch their morals, their patriotism, and their sense of American pride and honour out the window, when it comes to the price of gas these days (about $3.38 a gallon--and remember the US has hardly any public transport outside city areas, so while Europeans pay more, Americans have no choices--unless they live near a city, they HAVE to drive to work/store, etc.)

Here's what happened in one small rural community in the American Midwest:

Dozens of drivers made a mad rush for cheap gas after a station employee accidentally changed the price to 33 cents a gallon.

Oh, and by the way...

Am I the only fan, who's noticed that we see an awful lot of David Tennant's nostrils in the series? Nice to know he's got a whacking good pair of nose-hair trimmers.

Well, I'm not in a very good mood tonight. So, I will only bid you all sweet dreams, and thanks for reading my blog. Cheers. N.

The BBC and Doctor Who producers will be changing actor David Tennant's look, for the three 2009 television movies. Described by one BBC Wales insider as "Pure techno-geek," Tennant will be always wearing big glasses, be dressed in costumes from the Asda bargain rack, and, the biggest change of all, the Doctor will also be exchanging his trademark sonic screwdriver, for a laser mobile. In addition to that, much of the Doctor's time will be spent texting his enemies, to remind them that they must obey Interplanetary Health and Safety rules.

Here's a sneak peek of what to expect in 2009:

Well, I'm being ordered back to the surgeon's office--or the ER, I was given my choice, because I'm having trouble swallowing--couldn't eat this morning at all. And, one of my test results was a bit "iffy," so I have to go back for a second round of tests this morning. Dang. Now I'll never pay the rent on time. I'll be lucky if I can pay the electric/phone bill.

I was reading the news this morning, when I saw that Bush has slashed yet another public assistance budget. He's made it more expensive for the elderly, poor and disabled to afford live-saving medications, he's made it harder for children to see doctor's and dentists...but then, this is the same so-called "Christian" president, whose administration outright lies about the unemployment statistics, and absolutely refuses to acknowledge that this country is in, at the very minimum, a borderline recession.

This country is a civil war (rich vs. poor) or revolution, just waiting to happen, if you ask me. And, even if you don't ask me.

"As my fifth incarnation, Doctor, you may have had a stalk of celery on your lapel, as your "trademark," but I carry a ten-inch...erm--screwdriver, in my pants."

Well, only worked 3 and a half hours, tonight. I found, about two hours into shift, that I appeared to be, as they say, "flying without a plane." The oral surgeon upped my dosage of pain relief to 800mg--and I found myself pain-free much of the night (alas, can't say that now), and very, very, erm---jolly.

I still made 3 sales...but the pain killer ceased working around half-past nine, so I figured it was time I ceased working as well, before it wore off before end of the night shift. Just in time, too. I got half-way home and was nailed by the pain again...now I'm typing like a pirate--one-eyed and frowning...my face is all swollen again. Dang. It's only maybe, the second or third time in my life, I've ever accidentally gotten, erm, stoned (I've never done drugs, just not my thing) on medicine.

I remember once, when I was about 21 or so, mum was driving me to my job at a local restaurant one morning, and when we got there, she told me I was too sick to work, ordered me to stay put in the car, and went into the place to tell the manager I wouldn't be working that day. Later that day, she told me she'd been driving by some houses--same one's we passed all the time, nothing special, just...ordinary houses....and I'd said something in the nature of "wow man! look at that house. It's white. Cool." I'm paraphrasing, as I don't remember this at all, but that's the gist of what mum told me I had said. What had happened is, I had a bad cough, and was having problems sleeping. There's this product here, called "Nyquil," sold over the counter, that supposedly both quiets your cough/congestion, and helps you sleep--well, found out it helps you sleep, because it contains just a wee bit of alcohol in it...and, without realizing it at all (I kept sipping it in my half-sleep state, during the night) that I'd drank nearly an entire bottle of the stuff--when you're only supposed to have one dram!

But, I did manage to do my job--more or less, tonight. I think.

Someone took 30 cents in change and a pen from my cubicle. Cheap bastards. I keep a little change--always less than a dollar, by my computer, in case I don't have enough change for the soda machine in the canteen downstairs. Some people will take anything that's not nailed down.

There's this new guy at work--can't say why, but he's weirding me out a bit--he's got thick dark hair and a beard...looks almost like a villain from one of those old-time melodramas! Anyway, I swear, I was talking up a storm on the phone--well, I was a tad high, and, apparently, I'm quite talkative when I'm stoned (little things you learn about yourself as you get older)---and every time I glanced towards the window--which I just naturally always do (I'm a person who just enjoys looking out on the world) this new guy, I swear, was staring right at me! What's with that????

I mean, I wasn't, in all honesty, paying much attention to him--I really was just looking out at the city lights outside, like I always do.

It really weirds me out, when people repeatedly stare at me--not casually, but deliberately. I know I'm a tad ugly, but geez--a girl could get a complex!

I've nothing much to report. I've gone today and got a scan to make sure the infection hasn't spread to my brain. Was given a script for more pills--this time tho', they only cost 8 dollars, thankfully--still, the rent is looming over me like an executioner's ax--no exaggeration.

I've missed the better part of a day's work again--I'm genuinely scared. Not of my health. I'm here or I'm not here. Sorry to say, but that's my reality. I'm replaceable. My friends will miss me, my sister and nephew may mourn, but...in the end...so what? Life will go on, and I'll have made not even a breeze, by my passing. Sorry, but that is actually how I feel about myself. Can't help it, I just do. I've contributed nothing much to this life, I have no partner, no close family around me. I just..am. I'm just that proverbial candle in the wind, the dust in the prairie storm of life. And, that's just the way it is, for some of us.

I'm terrified of homelessness. Once in a lifetime was enough for me thanks--there is only one thing that I ever experienced that was worse than homelessness--and that was the morning I had to sign off on mum's life support, and sit there alone in the room, holding her hand as she died.

Gosh, I would sell my soul to the devil, if I could just be able to live independently, to support myself and no longer have this looming over me all the time.

I miss having a home and family, neighbours, friends nearby. I miss being a kid. Our home was often in disarray and discord--but you know, I still had fun. I miss the security of a home of my own, a place where I truly feel like I belong, and am wanted and needed. I don't have that anymore. I probably won't ever again, I believe.

Well, this is a depressing post. Just ignore it. I'm just in a sad mood today. I really miss my mum, and I also feel physically just so run down. I'm not looking for sympathy, honest. And I'm not whining. There's folks a lot worse off then me out there, bless them, that are managing okay. I suppose I should just try to shake this off myself. But...some days it's just much harder to do that, than others. I need something to laugh about...but I can't find anything. I need a miracle, but the angels are all on their tea break these days.

It's a pity no one develops I.Q. tests, that take into account learning disabilites, or other brain injuries or illnesses--but I suppose on a planet that depends so much on the old square peg in the square hole ideal, that probably won't ever happen.

It's not easy, in America, living with a disability no one can ever see...and that you can seldom tell anyone about--due purely to the stigma of mental illness and/or brain malfunction, that most Americans still harbour. American's attitudes towards those with brain-associated disabilities is too often still lurking in the dark ages.

Well, look at the mass paranoia about Aids, and the homophobia, and the 19th century bigotry, and the 12th century attitudes of some Christians. So, it's really no surprise when some upset teen uses a gun to end his pain, instead of medicine and/or therapy. We help to create this mess, so we should be so shocked when something like this happens.

Anyway, as a person who suffers from both dyscaluia, depression and DCD (dyspraxia), I can say it's horrible, being disabled in the USA.

And it's not just the awful, terrible bigotry and stigma and fear, you have to deal with, either.

DCD and/or dyscalculia make it impossible for me to do a lot of jobs---Excel is doable--but only very, very slowly, and in tiny little increments--and with a VERY patient teacher. Basically, I'm worthless in an office setting that depends on these spreadsheet programmes or any complicated computer programme. My mind is nearly incapable of logical problem-solving on a mathematical level. I very literally cannot even do simple subtraction, division or multiplication, without assistance.

It isn't that I don't want to do it, It isn't as simple a problem as that I have a hard time, doing it, either. It's that my BRAIN won't ALLOW me to do it. I may grasp basic mathematical or scientific concepts--but my brain will very much--to put it in simple terms--skip a step, somewhere along the way, causing me to get quite muddled and flustered--and 75% of the time, leaving me very angry and frustrated with myself--I HATE feeling stupid. It's the worse feeling--I just want to bury myself alive, when I feel stupid--mainly because I do so love to learn---but I've found my brain can only handle learning in small doses.

I also work better, learning one-on-one, or taking notes--with someone there to teach me. I have a great deal of difficulty learning on my own--oh, I can do it, and have, successfully, but only with "easy" subjects, like history, or something like that. Harder subjects, I've found, require a more hands-on approach.

The DCD and dyscalculia sometimes work against each other, as well. Each has their own specific "glitches. However, my math-science-coorindation shortfall, has left me with a positive thing--as bad as my grasp of math/science/logic is, my verbal skills are sharper, perhaps, then if I were a "normal" person....or so I'm told.

I'm a very curious person. I adore doing investigative stuff and problem solving (as long as it's not math/technical stuff), but..it does me no good, in the working world.

I love delving into the why's of a thing, I am big on ferreting out details, I love being creative, and of course, I love the written and spoken word--but, none of these are marketable skills in my country--at least, not were I live. I will always, always be a chav, bottom feeding, low-wage drudge worker--because my illness (well, and my weight-age-looks), prevents me from maxing my potential.

There's no help out there, for someone like me. I have the burden of being "well-spoken" yet being learning disabled. People hear me talk, and they think I'm "normal"--even social workers paid to help the disabled--and I'm treated like dirt--and I speak from long, bitter life experience here---because no one sees me as being disabled...not even the very people who are trained to.

I look "normal," I talk "normal," so I must be, "normal." Next time, when you hear of someone going off the deep end, remember that what we are--truly are--inside, is often not what the reality actually is.

Ugh! I have the worst craving today, for one of Arby's ( http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.arbysdayton.com/i/menu/bacon_n_cheddar.gif&imgrefurl=http://www.arbysdayton.com/menu/classics/&h=94&w=120&sz=10&hl=en&start=11&sig2=1WYsrYRA2sp4CFYwmnNSqg&tbnid=bQX3ehlH7nNsSM:&tbnh=69&tbnw=88&eid=1TlYR-_wOYfsigH1j63yBQ&prev= roast beef and cheddar melts--on their onion rolls with the special sauce...with some of the potato bites (deep fried potato puffs, with cheddar and bacon and served with sour cream-ranch dressing) on the side. Ohhh--could I go for that, right now, pain or no pain, LOL.

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"If I knew being a Time Lord would make me such a babe magnet, I would'a jumped on the part years ago! Four women in the Tardis? I'm a right sex-pistol, aren't I?"

"Erm--Martha? While I'm down here, can I just say, that I really like the colour of your toe-nail polish. Can I borrow it sometime?"

I keep getting these daft e-mails--which go in the junk bin of course.

But these are quite funny--I'm guessing they're getting my e-mail from the blog.co.uk site, as it's the only UK website with my hotmail address on it, as far as I know. Huh, I always wanted to be a Brit, maybe it's not my student lender that's been taking money from me, but HM's government, ha-ha! Note the two periods after "all rights reserved." Someone wrote this in a hurry.

Anyway, this gave me a chuckle, this morning:

Notification:
After the last annual calculations of your fiscal activity we have determined that you are eligible to receive a tax refund of:

© Copyright 2007, HM Revenue & Customs. All rights reserved..

Anyhow, it's 8 degrees and mostly sunny--that's minus 13 C, for my UK friends. Going to get up to a whopping 27 F, today.

Another teenage shooter on the rampage in America, yesterday. Ho-hum. That's our culture. Unfortunately, the gun lovers (read sexually and emotionally inadequate males) equate guns with freedom, and the NRA (or, as I call it, the NRA/KKK) has a strangle hold on our Washington politicians--and everytime we who T-H-I-N-K try to change the laws, the gun freaks (incl. my future brother-in-law) shriek "foul!" and force the sane people to back off.

So, in a nation whose very capital (which also is the second smallest "state"--district), has the highest murder rate in the nation (this from a former Washington DC police commissioner, so I'm NOT making that statistic up), in a country where no one much enforces the laws that disallow violent felons from owning firearms--although they do enforce the law that doesn't allow them to vote--what's with that?---well, death by gun is a why of life here, so what's the big deal?

For all their false crap about terrorism, the bottom line is, the US govt, and too many US citizens, really don't give a damn about any human life but their own. That's just the way it is, in "New America." Thanks solely to neo-cons like Charleton Heston, Chuck Norris, Rush Limbaugh, Dick Cheney, and the stinking National Rifle Association.

Well, that's how I view it, anyway. I have wanted to emigrate to Canada or Europe for years--but am finding the Republican Disease is spreading all over the globe to places like Canada and the UK. It's a shame, really. But doing things the easy way (not thinking or learning or caring or being respectful) is becoming they way everyone wants to live, I guess.

But..that's just my opinion.

Well, unlike last night, I had a good night's sleep--quite frankly, more from exhaustion, I suspect, than anything else. I have gotten enured to mild pain, but intense pain, one never really gets used to that, I suppose.

Going back to the store in a short while, to get some more meds. I have no idea how I'll pay my bills this month. Dang, life is a (pardon my language) bitch sometimes.

Hope you all have a good day. Cheers. N.

Well, I had part of a sandwich for dinner--and it was all I could do to eat it--I weighed 218 a few days ago, weighed myself today at the health clinic--213! I've lost 5 pounds in just three days! Partly it's from not being able to eat much, and partly it's, I suspect, the sweating from the infection.

I worked my five hours tonight--I work 1 to 9:30 tomorrow, so that's not so bad, at least I can sleep in an extra hour, if I need to. I'm still hurting quite a bit, but mostly I'm just bone-tired weary. Going to bed at ten--something I'd not done in a good long while. I'm hungry, but...just to painful to eat. I have to tear off my sandwich into tiny little bites, but even that's a chore these days. I bought a box of instant chocolate pudding from the little store across from my office building, and, maybe tomorrow, I'll get some instant breakfast drink, and some yogurt or something.

I've got a Dr Who book I've not read in a while to take to bed with me--when the pain's keeping me awake, I read or blog--but usually I read. I read most of The Shadow Riders last night. Tonight it's Terrence Dick's Blood Harvest, from back in the 80's. I used to have his entry into the old Timewyrm series, about the 7th doc and Ace in Nazi Germany--which was fab, read it and re-read it...but somehow lost it, somewhere along the way. Terrence Dicks really had an excellent grasp of the 7th Doctor's character, and is wonderful and filling in background and historical details--I envy writers who can do that...take you into a historical or contemporary context, like you're really there...that's why I like Steven Saylor's Roman mystery series--about Gordianus the Finder--so much.

And, the hot new rumour from the Who rumourmills, is that the Doc's going to have FOUR companions helping him, for the finale--because he gets incapacitated by an explosion. Well, it give's Tennant a rest--well, maybe not. Do I foresee a little lip action in his future?

I'm too tired to write much more. Have a good night everyone, and a pleasant tomorrow.

Oh, and remember, if I stop posting, it's just I've lost my service--I'm still here--and if I'm not, I'll let someone know, somehow.

"I'm too sexy for m'kilt, too sexy for my tux, too sexy for my trainers, I'm so sexy, it hurts...This is my crotch shot, by the way."

Monica’s Meme:

1. What’s your highest year of school?

3rd year of four-year college…or, 2 year degree, take your pick.

2. How many close friends do you have?

About four or five, I guess.

3. How often do you see these friends?

Never met a single one of them in person.

4. Have you read a book this week?

Yes, the Shadow Riders.

4. Have you ever written a fan letter to someone on Doctor Who?

Yeah--well, sort of, in an off-hand kind of way.

5. Have you ever met anyone from Doctor Who?

Ian Martier, once, in the 80’s, and Mary Tamm--who was super nice.

6. Would you date David Tennant (if asked)?

No, probably not. Like him, but I really don’t think he’s my type at all.

7. What are you wearing right now?

I haven’t changed for work yet, so I’m still wearing old jeans and my equally old college tee shirt, and socks…not saying a word about the underwear, you notice.

8. What’s your favourite brand of clothing?

Don’t really have one. When I worked outdoors, it was Carhart and Sheplers--not bought anything from them in years. Though…I do love gawking at the posh dresses on the di vinci website--oh…would feel like a royal wearing one of those. I could care less about clothing tags--if it looks good, is well made and affordable--(and I have the cash to spare) I buy it.

9. When’s the last time you went and had your hair cut by someone?

Spring of 2007.
10. When’s the last time you went out with some friends, where did you go?

April of 2005, me and two of my then-girlfriends, went on and overnight trip to an enormous antique carriage auction in Pennslyvania’s Amish country. Had a blast! Haven’t had a better time since.

It's snowing here, gently, with flakes like frosted angel's wings, slowly protracting their fall to earth, to merge into the nameless blanket of the milky white ground.

It's rather peaceful looking at it. Charlie is sitting there, watching it fall, one paw outstretched, wanting to play with it, to catch it on his rough pink cat tongue, and show surprise at the wet and cold.

Well, I finally found something I can eat without pain--not necessarily like mind, but..with a little doctoring, it's..edible. Beans. Or specifically, cold Campbell's Pork & Beans from the can--with a little onion powder and spicy brown mustard stirred into it.

I won't say I hate beans, but...they're not my first choice of cuisine, unless they're in a homemade chili, or New England baked beans (the kind with maple syrup, brown sugar and bacon in them), or Cajun black beans and rice.

But cold beans from a can...bleh. I've not done this since..gosh, I was a teen and used to grab a can for my lunch on a hike, or something--and even then, only rarely (I found out that a can of beans was far less comfy to carry in my knapsack, then, say, cheese and crackers.)

Well, I got the call from the oral surgeon's office, he was going to see me at the ER this afternoon, but had an critical emergency and had to shift me to another day. I was told if I couldn't eat or breath well, to go to the ER, but I feel better now. He can't see me now, 'till late next week. But, he rang up the pharmacy and gave them a cheaper pain killer perscription--still, even with the lower cost, I am worried about the rent...and my job. I can't think of a worse time of year to be out of work.

At least I can talk a little better now, so I'm going into work at four, and working 'till nine. I miss being a kid though, when I'm sick--getting to lie in bed all day--all week, if need be, without worry, with someone there to look in on you, do for you. I miss that, I suppose. I feel in most, when I'm in hospital--whether it be the waiting room, or in a bed. It's hard being alone. Thank God mum never had that to deal with--tho' once or twice she did ask me not to come, when she just wanted to sleep, which is different.

It's strange. I'm alone pretty much all the time here at home, but I most feel lonely in hospital, or church, or at a fete or something. That's when it really hits home.

I will be losing my internet--unless a genuine miracle happens quite soon, that is, and for me, 'tisn't the season for miracles, ha-ha.

Heard from Time-Warner. Even tho' I rang them up, and told them to shut me off--they did--and then, turned me back on--and say that I was supposed to turn in the cable box, that something happened with my paperwork on the computer, and things got messed up---long story short: I now have, instead of a 97 dollar bill I cannot pay, a 287 dollar bill I absolutely cannot pay!

I was told, rather snarkily, that I could, if I wanted, lodge a complaint with the NY Public Service Commission--but there was naught they could do, on their end. So sorry, fork over, bye-bye.

Arrrgh!!!!

and I'm even sicker, worried about getting the sack, for being absent so much. I won't miss a whole day--my budget can't handle that! But, I can't TALK! My jaw and my face and part of my neck are so swollen, I couldn't even eat, this morning--and I'm famished! Since I'm forced to spend the money, I'm going to look into buying some "instant breakfast" nutrition drink. At least it will be something in my stomach--even if it does taste rather horrid.

I'm all done in tho'--about 3 hours sleep in the last 24 hours. I'm about ready to just let them fire me and evict me--just climb into bed, and stay there, till the cops come to toss me out onto the street. If it weren't for the cats, I might just...which is REALLY saying something, considering I view homelessness as a fate worse than death. In my life, I've only actually been homeless for a month--but trust me, that was too long. I've had to live through a lot of nightmares in my life--and being homeless is definitely in the top five of my list of real life horrors.

Out of the blue, my e-mail in-box is getting inundated with fake lottery and fake free car wins, fake job offers, fake beneficiary notices, fake book/story publication offers, fake tax refund notices--one from Her Majesty's government, fake loan offers--just scam after scam after scam--I barely bother to look at my in-box any longer. I keep it, because there's two or three legitimate things that are sent me through that, but I am getting rather weary of hitting that "apam" button.

Well, going back to bed for a few hours...waiting to hear back from the emergency oral surgeon. Cheers.

With BBC One's Christmas Day schedule just announced, we can confirm that you need to be in front of your telly and tuned in to BBC One at 6.50pm if you don't want to miss a second of Voyage of the Damned.
And there are quite a few seconds too. This year, the Doctor Who Christmas Special will run for a whopping 71 minutes instead of the usual 60.
If that wasn't enough, there will also be a brand new one hour Doctor Who Confidential at 8.30pm on BBC Three. With a whole host of bonus material launching on the BBC website at around 8pm too, that's quite an evening of Doctor Who entertainment.
Voyage Of Damned is also repeated at 01.15am on 27 December (signed version) and again at 2.15pm on New Year's Day. (taken from a david tennant website)

"You see, the REAL reason my Tardis crashed into the Titanic, is that I was on the rebound from Martha---I hate long distance relationships--and I wanted to meet someone new. And hey, the Titanic...captive audience, ey? So, I decided to find myself this sexy waitress..."

WAITRESS: "I can't resist a man with great big sonic screwdriver..."

Congratulations, Dusty!
Your IQ score is 113

Your Intellectual Type is Word Warrior. This means you have exceptional verbal skills. You can easily make sense of complex issues and take an unusually creative approach to solving problems. Your strengths also make you a visionary. Even without trying you're able to come up with lots of new and creative ideas.

Well, at least this proves my brains aren't entirely scrambled, yet.

I went to bed a bit past 11, but by quarter after one, the teen upstairs woke me out of a sound sleep, running across the room repeatedly (what the heck is with that?) and banging stuff on the floor (aka: my ceiling). It not only woke me up, it woke me up ALL OVER.

So, I've taken no less, in the past five hours, 1000mg of Ibuproferin, to no avail. Wide awake, in, as usual, wracking pain--I can't even stand to have the pillow or a bit of my clothing, next to my face...I don't know. Times like this, I miss my caravan in the woods. At least--except when a heavy snow was sliding off the roof, or a thunderstorm was blowing, I almost always got a good nights sleep. Guess I'm just not a city dweller--well, I am now, well...you know what I mean--I hope.

I'm going to have another go in about 15 minutes...not that I think it'll work--I'm WIDE awake. And what makes this really hell, is that I have the long shift tomorrow, with no real breaks, because I now have to use my money and my 2 hour lunch period, to go back to the store in the suburbs for my meds. Ah well.

I really miss being "normal." I mean, having a hum-drum, ordinary existence: no big crises, no lying awake worrying about finances, or health issues---just go to work, pay the bills, shop like a normal person...no counting my pennies to see if I can afford that one extra item, go out to dinner once in a while, or rent a movie--of course, if I had a "normal" life, then I'd probably complain about being bored.

I mean, what's it look like to you, hmmmm---?

Oh, and check out the new Daleks:

Dear sweet heavens! What a day!

I went to one drug store--the price of meds was out of my reach.

Went to the other store--and it was under 20 dollars for the one--the other being still too high--so I scrapped the pain med, and stuck with the penicillin.

Well. A. I'm told a three hour wait. So, I spend, not 10 dollars but 20 dollars in cab fare, going to the store--because I wasn't well enough to wander around a store for 3 hours--even if I had a wad of cash to spend--which of course, I don't, know what I mean?

So I eat 20 bucks, and go back around 5pm--and STILL not ready!!! So, I'm patient--sort of, and wait the hour and a half they told me to wait...(theme tune to Jeopardy!--see video)

Argh! So I went window shopping--and a little shopping-shopping. I needed more iron tablets and they were on sale--better one's than I've got now, for the same price, couldn't pass that up. While browsing the Christmas displays, ooohing and ahhing over things I'd love but were way out of my budget--okay, I admit, tho' I've been forced to largely ignore Christmas these past couple of years--partly from poverty, partly from emotional pain--I still enjoy decorating for the holidays--well, more than I have since mum died, anyway.

So, I found this great tree ornament--under 2 dollars (about the equivalent of 80p), and just had to buy it. It's a tiny sliver-coloured oval picture frame, topped with a tiny shimmery bow, and with a piece of black velvety ribbon as the hanger. I put a black and white photo of mum, in her late teens, in it. I also got a box of lights, 40 percent off, only $1.49. I got a 100 string of all blue lights, to go with the 100 string of all white (clear) lights that came with the tree--it looks great!--with the blue and silver ornaments, and blue and blue/silver garland, that came with the all-white artifical tree--oh gosh, it just looks--well...I think pretty darn lovely--okay, well, it's still a bit dishevled, at the moment, thanks to the cats, this morning--but, I like it. It's worth sitting in the dark on Christmas eve, coffee in hand, carols playing, and just...admiring.

They had some really cool ornaments and decorations--even if I can't buy, I still love to look--maybe this is silly, but I like to see the possibilities of what things could be. I decorate like that a lot, actually--whether it's Christmas, or a flower arrangement, or the apartment...I start with one piece, be it large or small--and let inspiration and serendipity take over from there. It's really fun--even if it's only in my mind, sometimes. I know, it's really dumb, but..it doesn't cost anything to imagine or daydream.

So, I decided, tonight, that, though mum is gone forever, and so are those special one-of-a-kind ornaments we used to buy each other--now that I've a "proper" tree, I'm starting a new tradition--each year, buy an ornament or two (as my budget allows) in memory of my mum, and all the love she showered on me, at this special time of year. It's been two years, tho' I still very much grieve, I understand that it's also time for me to begin the healing process--and what better time, than at Christmas?

Oh yeah, and getting back to my search for penicillion--did the inventor have this much trouble? After TWO MORE HOURS--I finally had enough, and complained to management--and wound up getting a 20 dollar gift card from the store--to pay for my meds! Still, 30 dollars plus in cab fare--instead of saving 40 dollars by going to this store--with the cab fare, I'm only saving 10! They're excuse: "New York state has a pharmacist shortage." There you are, UK readers--looking for a job in the USA? Have pharmacy training? Come here! We need you NOW.
What's ironic, is that Rite Aid and other drug stores are EXPANDING in New York--putting in more and more new stores--three new stores in our area, in the last year alone! So, how can there be a pharmacist shortage, if all these drug stores are being put into place? It's crazy.

Anyway, have to go back tomorrow--during my 2 hour lunch break--means lunch at McDonald's or something, I fear---it's going to be a very, very long day--10 to 9 without ANY rest inbetween at all--I'll probably have to wolf down lunch, what with waiting for my meds and the cab to and from there. There's also a cabbie shortage.

This is the real Radio City Music Hall (in Manhattan) pipe organ, featured for a special Jeapardy! segment.

Oh, and the answer is: "What is To Kill a Mockingbird?"--fantastic movie!

Well, I got an earful on another website I belong to.

Erm--excuse me a second.

"BOOTSIE! WE DO NOT EAT CHRISTMAS TREES!"

Ahem. Where was I?

erm--excuse me again.

"BOOTSIE! WE DO NOT GRAB AND GNAW ON AND KICK, THE FALLEN ORNAMENTS, EITHER!"

Okay, well, Flame just chased Bootsie away so, all's well again.

Sorry about that--oh, and they've been so good, too. Well, that lasted about a day and a half. Guess the novelty's worn off.

It began with Charlie knocking the tree over this morning, and then Flame began playing with one of the silver jingle bell ornaments...ah me, just a normal cat-owner's Christmas then.

Well, at least somebody's happy, ey?

Anyway--where the heck was I?

Oh yeah, well, this girl on this website, out of the blue--I don't even know her--starts telling me her life story...how upset she is that her boyfriend is miles away from her, and she's angry about it, and she can't understand how he could leave her to go work elsewhere.

Now I was nice--no, really. I sympathised with her, did the old maid-ish tsk-tsk, and isn't that a shame, and all that.

But, and I'm sorry to admit this--but I don't see what the problem is. Maybe it's because I've never had anyone be in love with me, or been in love myself--though I've certainly felt the stirrings once or twice, it's never been allowed to develop into anything more---so maybe my perception is a bit skewed, me being an old maid an all that.

To me--and this is just speaking about how I feel--yeah, I imagine it's quite hard, to be apart from someone you care about, have deep feelings for. But me--I don't know. I feel, like, if I ever found someone who truly loved me--I mean, really loved me, and for him I also had deep feelings, well, it would be hard, being separated--but mostly, I'd just want him to be HAPPY. And, if being apart means that he's happy, that's okay. As long as he kept in touch with me (and I don't mean every single day--just a few times a week, or whatever), and I knew that he missed me, but was off doing what he loved...or if he was in a situation, where he simply couldn't be with me...I don't see the problem. Military personnel, long-haul truckers, pilots, ship workers and fishermen and others, all are forced to be away from loved one's for long periods. Sometimes it breaks up a relationship--and sometimes not.

I watched, for 32 years, my mum married to a man who was always there (well, in the physical sense), but whom totally hated his life, his job. I would much rather be apart from someone I loved who was off, happy doing his thing, than live all the time with some miserable git. That's just me, though. I'm not speaking for woman-kind or anything like that.

I think, it's a personal thing, inside you. You either can handle separation--learn to deal with it as it comes, or you simply cannot.

And, I don't find fault with those who can't, not at all.

It's just human nature, individuality, it's the way people are...and of course, it depends, I think quite often, on the situation, as well.

I've been posting a lot of blather, and I don't know why. I usually try to keep my political rants down to a minimum, but seem to have gone a bit over my quota in the last day or so.

I'm so out of it, sometimes, heaven only knows what I'm babbling on about these days.

I'm danged tired. I was up all night in wracking pain, a living hell that only someone else who's been in that kind of pain for hours on end, can truly understand. Well, I'm tanked up on quite a few hundred mg's of Ibuproferin, so I'm good to go for my 10 to 9 shift today--I hope.

By 7pm, last night, I literally was hard pressed to talk, we'll see what tonight brings. Still waiting on that good news--that should happen sometime today--should, being the watchword here.

Have a good day, all. Cheers.

David Tennant has become so popular with the girls, that it's become rather difficult for him to go out in public any longer, without becoming mobbed by sex-starved women and girls. So, Tennant has taken to wearing disguises---which sometimes work, and, as we see here, sometimes don't.

Recently, Who star Tennant went shopping as Asda, dressed like Roy Orbison. Unfortunately, the disguise was seen through by two teenage girls, their mother, grandmum and their cousin, Bob.
It was Bob who first tried to grab Tennant and snog him.

Here's Tennant's reaction to Bob's advances:

In the news: a new national intelligence estimate found that Iran halted its nuclear weapons program in the fall of 2003, largely because of international scrutiny and pressure.

Yet as recent as 17th October, President Bush is pressing for a stronger military stance against Iran. He admonished congress and the American people, saying, that anyone "interested in avoiding World War III" (which would exclude Bush of course, who genuinely believes in Armmageddon) should be interested in stopping Iran from having the knowledge needed to make a nuclear weapon.

Okay, Iraq had no more weapons of mass destruction--yet we went into a war that's cost thousands of lives--many of them innocent children and women, and has pretty much caused America (despite republican denials) to fall into a recession, and made life miserable for a vast amount of people who need to buy petrol or heating oil to survive.

So, what will happen if Americans remain stupid and gullible and...stupid, and allow Bush his wish, and we invade Iran as well? How many more people will die? How many more will suffer poverty and hardship for the sake of a war-crazy (with an emphasis on crazy) president?

Well, I'm so knackered, I've got tremmors in my hands, and my eyes are blurry. I had a hamburger for dinner around ten--and my goodness, didn't that just hurt--after nine hours of talking, I'm afraid the old jaw can only open about halfway to what it normally should, it's just that stiff and sore. Even 600mg of pain killer isn't helping by now--and I've got several more days to go of this--I dread to think what I'll feel like tomorrow morning.

Eating that hamburger, though--well, I'm seriously considering buying some baby food--yucky, but better than than..well, what's it matter? You gotta' do what you gotta' do, like it or not.

Life is Hell, and then you die and go to Hell, and so..the point of all this is?

Write on one side of the paper only.

I may have some good news tomorrow, though. We'll see. Nite all, pleasant dreams.

And, on that note, here' my caption for Tuesday:

"No Martha, for the last time, I'm not giving you a Tardis Learners permit! We'd probably end up permanently stranded at your mother's house!"

I was reading a news story on a local TV station's website tonight.

In just the Northeastern part of my state (as opposed to Long Island, NYC, Lower Hudson Valley, Central NY, Northern NY, the Southern Tier and Western NY)..anyway, this part of the state, has a bit over 120,000 people holding state hunting permits. Of those, 221 are CONVICTED FELONS--who are NOT allowed to own a gun, ever. We're not talking pickpockets or con artists--we're talking armed robbers, violent offenders (armed assault), rapists and murderers!

The authorities at EnCon (State of New York Department of Environmental Conservation), who oversees all aspects of hunting and fishing in the state, with their own police force-- freely admitted that is seldom investigates people who apply for hunting permits--at least a quarter of these felons, have listed a kill by a rifle or shotgun in their paperwork, and it's believed that that's only a fraction of the true figures.

On top of that, many first-time hunters--especially those from the metro New York area, admit they've never seen a real deer--and in fact, year after year, cattle, horses, goats and pet dogs, are often shot (not all out of meanness) because these amateur hunters genuinely believe they are deer. And NOTHING is done about it.

In 1983, I gave my cousin Butch--then our village's police chief, my dad's shotgun to melt down--because I had no need for it, and did not want a gun in the house, and did not want it to fall into the wrong hands. My cousin, rather than honor my request like a decent cop would, gave the gun back to my dad--who didn't want it any more than I did--and he turned around and gave it to my then brother-in-law...yup, a convicted felon (armed robbery with a BB rifle).

But, hey, they have the right to bear arms--it's just that they're so busy bearing their arms, they often forget to expose their brains to a little air, as well.

Only in America! (And you wonder why I want so badly to emigrate to Europe?)

Police chase stolen doughnut truck
Monday, December 3, 2007 (from the Metro.uk)
Cop chase
'Police and doughnuts in the same story' shocker

With a name like Warren G Whitelightning, you are always going to stand out.

If found guilty of all charges, Mr Whitelightning could face almost ten years in prison.

Cops Rejoice as Donut Shop Becomes New Police Station

Police in Boynton Beach, Fla., should have no trouble finding the building chosen by the mayor to be their new substation. Chances are they've stopped by the site a few times already·

The article did not say whether the joy of a new police station will be strong enough to overcome the grief experienced by the officers when the Krispy Kreme shop went out of business.

From CBS News:

Cops Quickly Find Stolen Donut Truck

AP) A stolen truck full of doughnuts? Better believe Tri-Cities police were on that in a hurry. Moments after the theft of the Viera's Bakery van was reported early Friday in Kennewick, police issued an all-points bulletin.

Viera said he was happy that none of the load was lost "but I'm going to make sure Gilberto doesn't leave the keys in the truck any more."

We've had our fair share of idiot-boy robber 'round these parts as well:

The guy who robbed the bank--then actually had a Yellow Cab waiting outside, as his getaway car.

The guy who robbed a small grocery store, and ran right home to his back door, following the bulgury--in freshly fallen snow.

The guy who broke into the one-dollar store, and got away with less than $10 dollars and a handful of cheap disposable cigarette lighters...who wound up paying a 500 dollar fine and serving 3 years in prison.

The guy who was on the dodge from another town's police force, wanted for a hit and run and drunk driving, who was driving here in the city (unlicensed) with a loud muffler, at 3am, when the police stopped his car--was he upset about being caught and sent to jail for the hit and run? No...he is angry about being ticketed for disturbing the peace. I'd say that's the least of the little bugger's worries, ey?

Some people in other parts of the world, have expressed shock at our awful medical system here. In parts of the world, where people get free--albeit, and sometimes poor and unhygienic care, coupled with long waits---that the US, which has the "best health care" in the world--has also a higher infant mortality rate than most western European nations, and...people die, horribly, needlessly, people also lose their homes and become homeless--because there is NO healthcare at all.

The US government, since Bush came into office--and this is FACT--has systematically removed people from medical assistance and disability assistance, often denying claims on the flimsiest--and most ridiculous--excuses. Often, workers are encouraged--and again, this is FACT--to "lose" paperwork, or delay things, so that people, many who are very sick or suffering serious pain, simply give up and, essentially suffer 'till they die.

This is by no means an exaggeration.

Here is an article by the WASHINGTON POST, in the District of Columbia (our nation's capital), about one's family's Made in the USA horror story:

MARYLAND-Deamonte Driver was a 12-year old boy with a common ailment for kids his age: he had a toothache. An infection had set up in the root, commonly known as an absessed tooth, for which an extraction can be performed for less than one-hundred dollars.

Although the Driver kids have never received routine dental care, Alyce Driver said that even with Medicaid coverage, dental attention is just too hard to find. Dentists are not currently made to accept Medicaid coverage, and many do not want to deal with the long forms and pay that one must offer a secretary to manage such documents in the manner the Federal Government requires.

Politicians from both parties with their wanton neglect, AND all the members of the American Dental Association who harbour such greed and total apathy , AND, the lack of basic human compassion and total ignorance of the American public, AND, those so-called Christians who yell about saving unborn children--but do NOTHING about saving a LIVING child--- all contributed to this boy's death--they are as much responsible for his horrible suffering, as the dental abscess which caused it.

Shame on you America--how are you so different than Saddam?

Yes, it's true. In my in-box today, some fan-girl said she was giving a Christmas gift of David Tennant's e-mail address!

Why????

Anyway, I thanked her politely, but---and NO I will not give it to you, so DO NOT ASK---I deleted it.

Well, for one thing, for all I know it could be some sex freak's e-mail, couldn't it? I mean, it might have been legit--and no, it didn't have anything in it to indicate whether it was really Tennant's or not.

It was a nice thought though, I suppose. Though I really am not so much of a fan as to want the man's e-mail address--that's awful. I hope she's not handing it out like candy--the poor guy..whether it's Tennant's or not, imaging the back up in that in-box??? (shudder).

But, I've been getting some odd mail of late, haven't I?

I also got, in my in-box, a letter from Her Majesty's Revenue and..something, saying I have a tax refund! Yeah---well, only if spending 3 hours in Heathrow on New Year's eve of 2004 makes me a citizen of the UK.

And,

I got another scam not from a "publisher," wanted me to write a manuscript based on my blog (which they will kindly publish for me--for a healthy fee, of course.)

In the words of the new cybermen: "DELETE-DELETE-DELETE!"

Well, I'm home on lunch break but must soon be off again, to slog my way to the 9pm hour. The pain meds are working, and I'm able to--more or less--do my job today--but, gosh, aren't I half exhausted. I could fall into bed right now and sleep the sleep of the dead. I'm hoping to maybe get more rest these days, though how I'll manage that, remains to be seen. I slept a lot yesterday, but it wasn't exactly restful. I'm on 600 to 800mg of Ibuproferin, and it's a blessed relief.

Boots LOVES the new tree. He's absolutely over the moon over it. The minute I brought it into the living room, he was running around and yammering at me in cat talk, his eyes all aglow, like a little kid would be. He doesn't try to play with it--he just likes to sit and look at it, and sleep near it. He's been that way since his first Christmas--the other cats would try to play with the tree, but Boots was always content just to be near it. He's easily pleased, my Bootsie.

Now dad, on the other hand, he hated Christmas--with a passion. Oh, he'd buy the presents--tho', like my sister, who usually just grabs the first thing to hand, without a single thought about it--dad had a track record of totally unwanted gifts. Of course, I was raised to be polite about it, and never say what we've all thought, at one time or other: "What the heck I am I supposed to do with this?"

One year, dad gave me an expensive jewelry box--and I only had two or three pieces of jewelry--mum got that, I think, eventually. Another year, mum asked for a blender, and got a wrist watch--which was a men's model and didn't fit her wrist. Usually though, dad would bitch at mum for the money spent on us kids--then give her his list, which usually included an expensive brand of shoes among other things. Poor mum. Some years he made life miserable for her, at Christmas--mum loved buying Christmas prezzies--oh, she'd spend hours trying to find just the right gift...which my sister and my dad would just shrug off--funny how sis took after dad, and I took after mum, isn't it?

Here's probably the worst thing I've ever written--and I don't say that lightly.

Grumpy Dad's Carol:

Christmas lights, christmas lights
hanging from the eaves
hanging those darned ol' lights
always get's me peee-ved

Chrismas tree, Christmas tree
branches in my face
matching those colour-coded boughs
Cursing till I'm disgraced

Christmas gifts, gifts
what a hassle and a bore
buying junk for ungrateful brats
just to make me poor

Exclusive: BBC, in order to bring in more funds, has sold part of the rights to Doctor Who to Disney films.

Disney will be merging the Doctor's character, with it's new version of Aladin.

The film will be a combination of live action and anamation, in which the Doctor uncovers a plot by evil aliens to take over the oil industry in Saudi Arabia. The Doctor disguises himself as a magic genie, to defeat the aliens, who call themselves the Neocon's, from the planet Moreon.

Here we see a preview of the Doctor as the genie:

Well, a year and a half ago, I was down to 212 pounds or thereabouts. I was weighed in hospital, and it came out to just a tad below 100kg...I just looked it up--OMG! I'm nearly at 220 pounds again! And I've been eating less than before--although, to be fair, last year I was always walking--on the job at the race track, and later, when I shifted jobs to the Travelodge, I walked the nearly 3 miles to work everyday.

I figured I might be up by 3 or 4 pounds, with the reduced activity, but not by a good ten pounds--how very disappointing. What's even more disheartening, is that I eat far less than I used to, and hardly ever eat junk food any longer--at most maybe two or three times a month, as opposed to several time a week, like I used to do. So, healthy eating may be a good thing--but, I think, it's also partly a myth. I know a woman in the office, who's a health freak--she DRINKS her vegetables as a snack, okay? Throws corn and broccoli and stuff in a blender, and drinks them as a snack on her break at work--BLEH!!! But you know what--she's not much skinnier than I am!

There was this 100-something guy they interviewed in the paper a while back, who claimed to have eggs and bacon every morning and is still in good health. I think the health police are a bit over-the-top, these days. I think a lot of this health-paranoia propaganda is more about governments being overwhelmed by medical costs, then by their false concerns for our eating and lifestyle habits. But, that's just my opinion.

and I have to trundle off to work in the snow and freezing rain. Lovely. But, that's life in my part of the world, I suppose. All the schools are closed. We only got about 4 or 5 inches, which wouldn't close schools in most areas, but I guess it's icy as well, from the rain--the temp outside is just at the freezing point, 32 F, and it not cold enough for snow, but not warm enough for straight rain. Dang. Gonna' be a..challenging walk to work this morning.

It was snowing rather heavily around 5am, but now I guess we're just in for freezing mist and freezing rain, until it either clears up or starts snowing again. Of course, all the TV weathermen, with their dire "the sky is falling" shrieks of a raging, dangerous storm, turned out of be a big, "pffft!" 14 inches of snow my blooming...yeah right.

Well, I for one, don't mind snow at all--it's the lousy ice I dread. I've got a permanent injury to prove why.

So, I gotta' work that 10 to 3, 5-9 shift today. I can just imagine how miserable people will be, on the phones to me today. And yes, my jaw still aches like heck--though the headache's much better. Talking with a bad jaw is hell, though not as bad a yawning. I really dread it when I yawn.

Well, I got my shopping done--just before I'd left the apartment to go to the store, I got an e-mail telling me that I won this raffle I'd bought a ticket to, several weeks ago--I didn't even remember. It was, as I recall, for the homeless youth shelter--can't turn them down this time of year, can I? So, I gave them my dollar and thought no more about it. I won my choice of a set of decorative vases with silk pointsettias in them, or the tree, so I took the tree.

But, I'm calling it an early night--I besides the constant throbbing in the jaw, now I seem to also have developed a headache, and am quite sleepy.

Back to work tomorrow to my split shift. I'd rather just curl up in bed and die a quiet death, but gotta' pay the stinking rent and light/gas bill. Dang money.

How cool is this??? Not as good as being there, but reckon it's about as close as I'll ever get--well, that's not true, as they did film some background shots in New York last year, with is less than 200 miles from here. But..eh, you know what I mean--high-five for Dr Who, man!

PARTIAL DIALOG:

Rose appearing scene
Donna - Oh God, are you alright, what was that, bloomin firewoorks or something?
Rose - I dont know. I keep hearing sounds but I cant hear where its coming from
Donna - look!, now Im doing it! (does some strange arm movements)
Rose - I came out of nowhere. I was there, now Im here!

You may wonder why I've put these two posts here well...

I WON A CHRISTMAS TREE!!! Huzzah!!!

Well, not a real one. But still, no complaints from me. It's a four foot tall white artificial tree, that already came decorated--blue frilly garland, and blue and silver rope garland, blue and silver ornaments, clear white lights (next year, perhaps, if I'm still around, I'll buy some all blue lights to go with the clear ones), and..and angel tree-topper! Huzzah! I have Christmas back. I feel bad not being able to buy any prezzies for anyone, but having a tree back--that's nice. Now I have something to admire on Christmas eve, again.

And here's another really neat light show, this time from Brooklyn, in 2006:

This is an amazing feat of engineering. The video is 100% genuine, filmed in real-time. The music is broadcast on a local radio frequency, so views can listen and watch the show from the comfort of their cars. This home belongs to an electrical engineer in Mason, Ohio, and it took the man two months and ten thousand dollars, to organize his spectacular light show.

The light show begins, when--somehow--the radio picks up that someone's tuned into the frequency. That way, the show isn't playing constantly, and annoying (lol) the neighbours.

Here's the real-time video, of this unbelieveable light show. Enjoy:

The first ever Christmas film. (1907)

The snow is lazily falling outside my windows, and I'm going to lie down for a bit, as the pain-killer the hospital gave me is finally wearing off. But before I go...

Oh yes. It's time for a little badness...

DOCTOR: "Oh no-no-no-no-no! This is a disaster!"

MARTHA: "What is it, Doctor?"

DOCTOR: "I've just broken a fingernail! I'll be in the manicurists for hours, now!"

Wow, I just read my blog stats--I have less entries in Nov. than in October, but still, I broke my all-time record, with over 25,000 visitors for the month of November alone! Whoa. Can you imagine, if I charged each of them a dollar--I'd be able to buy groceries and medicine, see a doctor, pay the rent on time...maybe even have a car again... and have enough left over for maybe even a short little holiday.

Not that that's ever going to happen. Nope. No publisher is ever going to knock on my door begging for a manuscript. I'm not trendy, or a yuppie or a celebrity. I'm just..me. And that's fine. It would be cool to have someone want to publish you though, I imagine. But, there's no more chance of that I'm afraid, than there is of me ever being picked to guest-star on Doctor Who, or win the NY state lottery.

Flame's curled up on my lap, happy as a lark. She woke me this morning, giving my bad jaw a good washing...felt actually rather good, sort of like getting a mild massage...could have done without the tuna-breath though.

I have to force myself to go out--need some groceries, and some strong Ibuprofrin for my pain, until I can get to a drug store to have my scripts filled. It's going to be a long haul, I fear, until I'm well again. Gah--that PA (jr. doctor) was awful--and they forced me to sit, completely unattended, in the dental emergency room, in that uncomfortable dentist's chair (they didn't even bother to adjust the seat for comfort, just waved me into the chair and left) for 2 flipping hours--and the PA just flashes a light in my mouth, snarkily grills me-- unnecessarily-- about my living arrangements, then breezes out again--all of 5 minutes. 2 minutes later, a nurse comes in, throws some scrips at me and gives me the boot. Glens Falls Hospital totally SUCKS. And for this, I'll probably be nailed for hundreds of dollars in fees I cannot pay. I'd give anything to live in Europe. Unfortunately, I can't even afford to go to the next town.

Oh, and I just noticed this "Queen" has an advert for a hot-pink waterless toilet on her webpage--very appropriate, ey?

This also just popped up in my in-box, from a "visitor" to the site, because there was no link to any blog. I e-mailed a reply, but it came back--twice--as "undeliverable." What's that about? Yup, it's my day for weird e-mails from BCUK today. I'm sick. I'm in pain. I want to be left alone today--it's my one day off this week. Why me?

Anyway, here's the PM from my in-box, and my response, follows that--just in case this "davidroxme" reads this.

i wish u wud stop making fun of david

i don think ur posts r funny i was so upset i liturally hav screamed at u leve him alone

Okay, sweetheart, let me think about it (insert the theme tune from Jeopardy! here)........
..........erm---meh, NO! Sorry.

Don't like it, then don't read it---that's the policy for my blog page. This isn't a newspaper, dearie. This is a personal journal. Editorial comments are at my discretion. And I discress to say

I've already said--repeatedly, to the point of where I'm getting sick of saying it-- that I like Tennant as an actor, and, tho I don't know much about him, he seems a good person (so far)...so? What's the problem. The man will NEVER see these--EVER. I am sorry if these little joke captions have distressed you sweetie, but really, they are about the only "fun"--very literally--that I have these days, outside of watching the same re-runs on DVD, and reading the same books over and over. So, get over it, ey? The man no more would care what I think or feel, then any other celebrity out there. He's thousands of miles away--what's he care about it?

One of the downers of this site, is the weirdos, freaks and just plain stupid people, that you get PM'ing you from this site.

Here's the latest invitation (gag me):

Hello
I am a lady of 23, I found you hear in (www.blog.co.uk) and picked interest in you. My name is Queen .I wish to be in love relationship with you and may be discover ourselves as real partners for life. This is my email adderss(queen02mabou@yahoo.com) If you feel interested write me through the contact. I will be happy to seeing a good responds from you Thanks and remain blessed. Please if your are interested this is my contact (queen02mabou@yahoo.com)send your email to my mail inbox so that i will send you my photo and tell you more about me ok,
Yours in love,
Queen.

http://www.blog.co.uk/user/queenmabou/

She's got a blog on here, but I'm not touching it with a ten foot pole. I've got nothing against gays and lesbians---as friends. I never question my friend's sexual orientation. But, date a woman? No. I'm an OLD MAID, not a lesbian, for cripes sake! I mean, if I wouldn't date David Tennant, I'm sure as hell not going to date some idiotic, spazzy foreigner, less than half my age, named "Queen."---who didn't even give me her real name! Yeah, well, not a good way to approach someone you want to have a relationship with, ey?

Well, I've just come from hospital--not a pleasant experience at the best of times--and even less so, when they bundle you off to a room, dump you there, and just walk away for two hours. No lie. There I was, suffering in waves of pain--it comes and goes, but when it comes...whoa. Close your eyes and just pray for it to stop. Yeah, they just stuck me in this dental chair, and walked off. That was around midnight. No one came in again until five minutes of two. I could have passed out or something, and no one the wiser.

But, hey, they have a zillion uptight security guards, metal detectors, all doors locked--in the safest city in northeastern NY. I mean, the big hospitals in the capital, fifty miles away--they do not have half the security of these little rural hospital. I'm told it's because on of the hospital's guards went beserk once, and murdered his wife with his work weapon...after that, the hospital's Health and safety people went beserk themselves with a bit of serious overkill--it is harder for you to get into our hospital's ER, than it is to board a plane at JFK---I'm not joking. Wish I was. It's the specter of republican paranoia gone mad (this is a republican stronghold up here, unfortunately).

So, last time, I got this super nice doctor--this time, I got the harassed and snarky PA (physician's assistant...what I think some other countries call a junior doctor). This woman demanded--I mean, just that--why I'd not been to a dentist. Well, I attempted to explain to her that: 1. I have very little money to spare for such luxuries, 2. I have no car and the dentist is a bit over 15 miles away, and I do not own a car. 3. I have no money.

Then, I got the snarky, why doesn't someone drive you? Because sister, I ain't blinking got no one to drive me. Then I got INTERROGATED. I mean it. Let's not talk about my condition, oh no. Let's get our back up and demand to know why I'm living alone, and why there's no relatives or friends to take me, and why aren't I living somewhere else, if I can't go anyway, and how do I get to work, blah-blah-blah. Have I mention that I really, really, really hate my fellow countrymen and women sometimes?

How isolated from the rest of the world have these people become, that it's very much inconceivable to them, that a people are out there, whom actually, really, do live utterly alone.

Geez...these people may be rich (by my standards) they may have bigger degrees, better homes, nicer clothes, whatever food they want to eat, vacations, sick pay, the whole enchilada--but do they have just one itty-bitty ounce of common sense? Any awareness at all, of what life is like, outside their safe, secure little yuppie prison they've built for themselves?

American aren't stupid by design, they design themselves to be stupid.

Anyway, I've put on some stronger pain killers and some cheaper penicillion. Problem is, the only place I can afford to buy it, is WalMarts, and the buses here don't run on Sundays. So, I can't get my medicine until Thursday--unless I can bribe someone at work to take me, on my break.

Anyway, it's half-past three in the morning and I'm quite done in, and off to bed. Long day tomorrow--we've a fairly big two or three day storm coming in, over 12 inches of snow expected--with sleet and freezing rain thrown in for good measure, so if I'm going out tomorrow, it will have to be early on--laundry day and shopping. Very long day indeed. Morning all, and have a pleasant Sunday.

"Oh yeah, Russell, well, I'm not going back on set, unless I get to snog more women--and, I want a box of condoms in my caravan, and, I want my billing to read "David Ten-inch" from now on! I'm not the hottest time lord in history for nothing, you know!"

You know, I've more or less given up on religion, these days. Not on God, just...not into worship any longer--it's hard to explain. I can only say that worship just depresses the heck out of me, and leaves me feeling very sad and empty inside--and, extremely lonely.

I sort of miss it sometimes--a good minister is a genuine pleasure to be around, be it man or woman. Sadly, there's not many of those, these days. Our Presbyterian church has changed drastically, over the last two decades or so. It's sometimes more like a southern Baptist church, or nearly as bad, it's so uptight and caught up its own pompous self, as to be stiff and formal and extremely dull. The church I was drawn to, was moderate. It wasn't over-the-top praise Jesus and yell Amen!(To show off just how piously religious you are.) And it wasn't so formal as to sound virtually emotionless. It was warm and friendly, full of acceptance, commonsense and what I call, controlled joy. A well-balanced mix of the old traditional service, and modern interpretation.

But...much as I sometimes wish for spiritual guidance, I am not a person who takes well to having God pushed at her. I also really do feel very lost and alone, in a religious setting. Which makes me rather glad mum never pushed me to become a minister--gosh, I'd of been rubbish!

Not that it matters, I suppose, whether I'm religious or not. I've discovered, these last few years, that, deep down, not a whole lot truly matters, in this world...friends, family maybe--but even there, there's no guarantees.

Meh, just another day, to me. Lovely day out, mind--if somewhat chilly. Be a nice day, for "normal" people, to go Christmas shopping, or visiting, or picking out the tree, putting up decorations, etc. The senior center down the street is having their Christmas do, selling crafts and whatnot. I'm going in two hours late--couldn't open my jaw very far this morning, which is not a good thing, for someone in my line of work...talking four hours will be grueling, really don't think I could have managed six hours, today. Though the swelling's thankfully decreased, in my lower right jaw, it's also becoming more solid--and is affecting my ability to speak well.
Well, not much to be done, but wait for it to clear itself up. But the reduction in swelling is a relief, as the ER docs the other day, seemed somewhat concerned about that. Be a bit rubbish, dying from a toothache, ha-ha.

Speaking of teeth, got a really dumb advert in my inbox today--"Give the gift of oral hygene for Christmas." Oh yeah, nothing says "Merry Christmas!" like a rotating toothbrush. "Here you are, mum, yer breath stinks, so have a go at this, ey?" Yeah, I put that gift right up there with smiley face boxer shorts and those daft chia-pets.