I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

I just wanted to share this with you:

On my job the other day, I had to ring up a gent about his membership dues being overdue, and the guy...well, let's just say the old family tool box was short a few implements. The conversation involed a lot of grunting, mumbling and a few, "I don't know's"....when I could actually understand the man, that is....we may have English as our national language, but someone forgot to tell some of the rednecks that, I reckon.

But, the thing that amused me, was his name: "Darwin Shakespeare." Now, don't know if this gent was related to the famous Shakespeare--or to Charles Dawin--but, if he is, the family tree got a bit stunted after they came to America.

I was blessed to grow up where I did--it was fun, living next to fields and woodlots, on a hill in the Upper Hudson Valley.

Our winters weren't spent all indoors, not by a long chalk. Oh, there were times when we were kept indoors...I can remember once, when I was a wee child, it was right around this same time of year, and we'd had a terrible blizzard--over three feet of snow fell. Our little street was down off a steep hill, that hill was a built up four land divided motorway, and one of the great spectator sports of our childhood, was watching people struggling to get their cars up the motorway hill.

Well, this particular year--it was, I think, about 1966 or 67, nobody was going up that sucker. I mean, nobody--not even the snowplows. Dad, who worked for a commercial linen service (the people who supply restaurants and hotels with linens and sheets, towels, etc.) down in the village, had to leave the car there. I remember him being very disgruntled about having to walk home from work--not far, really, it would have only been a 20 minute walk, even in the snow.

Anyway, after the storm, I remember not being allowed outside--there was over 3 feet...closer to 4 feet of snow, and I wasn't quite 4 feet tall, at the time. Wise choice, mum.

Our standard snow outfit was the dreaded snowsuit--sort of like a ski overall, but a much bigger pain in the arse to put on--most especially when you were a kid with less than perfect coordination...putting them on was a major military operation, and pulling them off required mum, dad, two mules and a tow truck.

Oh, and the snow boots--hated the snow boots...they'd get all sweaty inside, after being in them for a while, and when you'd go to pull them off, sometimes the lining would stick to your foot--and you'd find yourself minus a sock--and, that's not the most comfy thing to have happen, when one has to step in melting snow and ice. Sometimes the lining of the boot would pull out, as well, and then it was a fight to stuff it back in so it would lay flat and not wrinkle up and give you blisters.

Oh, and let's not forget the times when you've trudged through the snow, and it gets down your boots, packing the icy snow against your calves like they were chicken in a chiller cabinet.

Lost gloves--mum's pet peeve. That sort of falls into the same category as missing socks, I suppose. Never seemed to go the whole winter with a pair of gloves intact. Somewhere out there, there's a passel of missing gloves, just waiting to be found again, poor things.

But, I think the most humiliating thing mum ever made us wear, were the ski masks. These were red ski masts, made to look like--well, take your pick: mosters, a demented clown or those masked wrestlers in what some people laughingly call "pro" wrestling matches. They were sooo-- not cute or funny.

This one is from Steve Winstone and his Orchestra, with Jon Pertwee doing the voice work:

And...Orbital's version:

We're supposed to be in the throes of a freezing rain, snow and sleet storm today, but here in my city we've seemed to have escaped the brunt of it. There's sleet storms all around us, but we seem to be in a little pocket that's being missed, but I doubt that will last for long.

It's moving up from the south, but when it hits our city, it breaks--sort of like the parting of the Red Sea, ha-ha. Maybe the Presbyterians down the street prayed extra hard this morning.

Okay, it sometimes genuinely sickens me, the way some facimile human has totally disregarded those simple basic things that separate us from livestock down on the farm: manners.

The items below, are all things your mum and/or dad should have taught you, so some of what I've listed hopefully most of you already know.

And, if you don't know any of this I'm really sorry, I know it's not a perfect world out there. But, it's never too late to learn to be a civilized member of the human race, ey?

So, at the risk of sounding like a pompous old prude, here is my basic guide to re-joining the human race:

ESSENTIAL:

Always, always, say "please" and "thank you."

Basic courtesty and respect is what seperates not only the ladies from the sluts and the gentlemen from the scumbags, it's also a reflection on who we are, how we preceiveourselves, and how we want to be seen by society.

They're only three words, but they are three very important words, and if you haven't got the ablitity to say these three little words on a regular basis, don't go any further: you need to go back to the barnyard and stay there. Oh, and please use contraceptives or a condom--we really don't want the likes of you mixing in with our gene pool.

GREETINGS:

On the telephone: "Hello?" "(surname) residence." "This is (first name) speaking, may I help you?"
NEVER ever say: "Who's this!" "Who is this?" "Yes?" "Yeah?" "What d'ya want?" Also, do not grunt...pigs grunt, people say "hello?"

"Who's this!" is about the most low-brow, trashy, piggish and chav way to answer a telephone, by the way...

...I'm talking to you, American mom's and dad's...you know who you are...and, quite frankly, you totally suck as parents if you can't even do a simple thing like teach your wee one's how to answer a telephone properly.

TELEPHONE ETTIQUETE:

The other day, I had some nutjob who was a member of the family--but was not the person I wished to speak to--a guest who was apparently a visitor answering the phone. This woman--who actually said she was the person I was looking to speak to, Mrs. ___, possibly she had the same last name--began the whole conversation in an overly aggressive manner, and kept demanding "Who do you think this is? Who do you think you're talking to?"

Rude doesn't even begin to describe this deranged woman's behaviour. I've quite frankly been around cattle with better manners---IF you are a guest in someone's home, and, you are asked to answer the phone--try not to pick up the phone unless asked, by the way:

At times, someone other than the head of the house will answer the telephone. If that person is asked, "may I speak to Mr. ________ please," the response should be, "one moment please, I will get him for you." If the head of household is not available the response should be, "I am sorry, Mr. _____ is not available at this time, may I take a message?" This is simply a form of good manners, whatever form it may be expressed, thoughtfulness for the feelings of others. This person may be calling to offer a new job with great pay and benefits, who's to know! What would he or she think if the answer to the question, "is Mr. _____ home please," would be an abrupt "no." This response would reflect negatively, on the actual person being called.

If someone has called your nummber incorrectly--even if the call is coming from the same place more than once--DO NOT assume this is the same caller! Families and businesses will call wrong numbers more than once--but with different people doing the dialing, so you MAY have told one person that it's a wrong number--but the next person may be someone different, who is unaware of the situation.

Wrong number response:

"Sorry, wrong number." If the person on the other end, asks to verify that, or to clairfy that--LET THEM.

Whatever you do, do not launch into some insane tirade about them dialing a wrong number--it's just a wrong number, they are not threatening you in anyway, so if you get upset with wrong numbers--either get an unlisted number, take some valum, or get some thereapy.

Other tips:

When someone asks for someone, you say, "May I ask who's calling?" If the person they want is unavailable, do not just say "no!" and hang up.

Simply tell the caller that the person isn't available at present...then wait a few seconds...you may be asked when a good time is to reach that person, or the caller may wish to leave a message.

And above all, unless someone starts off an in-coming call in an agrresive manner--don't be rude, don't shout and don't be agrresssive. LISTEN to what the person has to say, first!

LASTLY, never-ever-ever hang up on someone in mid-conversation, for any reason...other than, of course, if the person calling is being aggressive, rude or threatening.

It is EXTREMELY unlady-like and ungentlmanly, to hang up on ANYONE in mid-conversation, without so much as an APOLOGY. If you have to hang up on someone in mid-conversation---APOLOGIZE first! Otherwise...congratulations...you've just joined the ranks of the farmyard brigade.

IF YOU ARE A GUEST IN SOMEONE'S HOME OR PARTY:

If you are a guest, always bring something...doesn't matter what: candy, a little knick-knack, flowers, snacks or some other food, wine or some other beverage, or even simply a note or greeting card, expressing your friendship and/or thanks.

When standing at an open door, waiting to be let in, do not look inside. And, once inside, do not make too much of a noticable effort of looking around--this is because being nosy is just plain rude. You can look around of course, but only casually, and please do make sure you compliment your host on his or her decor, or at least say something nice about something you notice within the room.

Also, during your time there, or before departing, offer to assist your host with something. Even if your host declines, it still is a way to show that you appreciate the time your host took, to make sure you enjoyed yourself. And, of course, always thank your host when you leave.

Even if you are visiting the home of someone you've never met--say, for professional, soliciting or vounteer purposes--always remember your manners. Even if you don't know the person personally, you STILL are a guest in their home, so behave accordingly!

IF YOU ARE THE HOST;

Greet guests warmly. Offer to take coats, ensure that your guests are comfortable. If more than one guest is involved, always introduce guests to one another as soon as possible. Always offer a guest a beverage or snack, after they've been seated.

And, finally,

BASIC TABLE MANNERS:

1. Sit up straight. Try not to slouch or lean back in your chair

2. Do not speak with your mouth full of food. Trust me, no one likes to see a ball of mashed meat or veg in your mouth. If you feel you must speak immediately, if you have only a relatively small bite, tuck it into your cheek with your tongue and speak briefly...otherwise hold up your hand apologetically, and finish chewing before you speak. Apologize for not answering right away.

3. Chew quietly. Nothing is more off-putting than someone eating their food like they were standing in front of a trough instead of being seated at table. And never suck on your teeth--that is possible one of the most grossest, most disgusting, most annoying sounds there is, quite frankly. If you have food stuck in your teeth, excuse yourself and go get a tooth pick or something.

4. Keep bites small. In order to facilitate the above rules it is smart to keep bite sizes to a moderate forkful. Cut meat and salad so that it doesn't hang from your mouth after you shovel it in. Don't cut all of your meat at one time, this tends to remind people of feeding small children - and the messiness associated with this activity.

5. Eat at a leisurely pace. This rule, besides being good for the digestion, also shows your host that you want to enjoy the food and the company. Eating quickly and running is sign of disrespect for the host, as it shows that your focus is on the food and that you would rather be at home watching the grass grow than passing time with your host.

6. Don't wave utensils in the air, especially knives or if there is food on them. Besides the danger of knocking over glasses, piercing waiters or launching a pea into the eye of your date, this is a sign of over-excitedness that may be unappealing to those present. Earnestness is to be commended, but irrational exuberance goes beyond the limits of good table manners.

7. Keep your elbows off the table. You have also heard this one from your mother, ad infinitum, but in close dining situations it is a vital rule. Elbows take up table space and can be a danger in knocking plates or glasses. Elbows on the table give you something to lean on and tend to lull you into slouching. If you must lean on the table a good tactic is to take a roll or piece of bread into your free hand and rest part of your forearm on the table.

8. Don't Reach. You don't want to get in the way of people either eating or talking. Not only is it as impolite as standing in front of a TV with other people behind you, but there is always the possibility of upsetting glasses or running your sleeve through someone's mashed potatoes.

9. Don't forget please and thank you. These are handy words in most situations but especially vital at the table where common courtesies are noticed by everyone present.

10. Excuse yourself when leaving the table. You don't want people to think that you are tired of their company. If you must leave the table make your excuses somewhat obvious and appear to be pressing. You want to leave people with the impression that you would rather remain at the table talking with them than doing anything else, but the matter at hand is so pressing that it must be attended to at once.

11. Compliment the Cook. Even if the food is perfectly awful say something nice. You don't have to lie, simply find the positive side of the burnt leg of lamb..."Gee, the sauce was sure tasty." It is always pleasant to end a meal on a positive note.

12. Wipe your mouth before drinking. Ever notice that disgusting smudge on the edge of your wine glass? This can be avoided by first wiping your lips with your napkin. Wipe your mouth after eating, as well. Food lip is nothing short of disgusting, and as unpleasant to look at as a booger hanging out of your nose.

13. Napkins: go in your lap, or, alongside your plate--you DO NOT tuck your napkin in like a bib! And, you DO use your napkin, even at a fast food resturant, like McDonalds.

14. Do not slurp or gulp your drink. Sip quietly. If using a straw, you don't make sucking noises. In fact, any loud noise while eating or drinking is totally out of bounds. Farm animals make noise while eating, human beings are supposed be above that.

15. If you have a cold or sinus condition, and cannot excuse yourself to go blow your nose, say, "excuse me," and move your head aside to blow, so no one is actually looking at you while you do it.

16. NEVER EVER belch or fart while at table. If you do accidentally do one of these things, you must ask people to excuse you. Don't make light of it, or a joke about it, unless someone else at table does so, first. If you do belch--and sometimes it can't be helped, always cover your mouth--there is nothing more off-putting than noxious fumes from someone's meal, wafting over the table, trust me.

17. Do not swear or make loud talk while at table. Conversation should be friendly and genial, as the dinner table is not the bar at the Royal Arse Pub, yes?

18. If you need something, ask to have it passed to you, however, it is considered bad ettiqutte to ask to have the wine or other alcoholic beverage passed to you. Be subtle and immaginative in your request for more wine.

I was reading something yesterday, where scientists have discovered a sugar molecule out in space. They believe that this may lead to evidence that there is other life out there in the universe.

Or...it could be that one of the astronauts dropped a chocolate biscuit while out on a space walk.

"Waugh! Better not come in here, I made the mistake of eating a bean pasty, and it doesn't smell very pretty, I'm afraid."

A few times, when I've written posts about making cheap casseroles or old fashioned comfort food meals, people blindly assume that either I can't cook, or that I don't know anything about "gourmet" foods.

In fact, I can very much cook, began my culinary training at the age of 14, have cooked professionally, have made demi-glace and other time intensive recipes--and, I even do have a college certificate in culinary arts--but, the reason I stopped, is that I simply don't like to cook that much--it's okay, and I do kind of like it--but I'm not head over heels about it or anything.

I "retired" from commercial cooking about 20 years ago, because I simply started to hate it. I never really wanted to be a chef, truth to tell--I wanted to work with horses or be a writer, or work in history or radio--anything but cooking, if you must know... but, in my late teens, I got half-pushed into, and half fell into that career, and never can say that I was overly-enthusiastic about it.

Still, people get genuinely surprised when they find out I know perfectly well how to cook. To some, cooking has been turned into a creative art form--to me, it's always been just a nice way to make people happy, and a way to sit down and enjoy some quiet time. Sure, it's great to show off your skills in the kitchen--especially if your ego is bent that way...mine isn't, and never was. Getting complements on your cooking is always nice and feels good, but...it's never been anything I've ever craved.

It amazes me how many men think of cooking as some massively powerful ego-trip, and (she laughs) actually think they're something special 'cos they can make some complicated dish or other palaver.

Yet, women have done the majority of the cooking for thousands of years, and while we women do have our pride in our cooking skills, we don't go around making a big foo-foo-rah about it, like men do.

What's that smell in the posh male chef's kitchen? It ain't the sauce...it's pure testosterone, baby!

Now, why is it that low-wage workers make headlines for doing the right thing, but some white collar executive or upper-middle class housewife does the same deed, and doesn't make headlines?

Because there's this stupid perception that a low wage worker would be more tempted to steal.

The reality is, that honesty isn't solely the realm of the upper classes. In fact, the working poor--such as moi--might be more apt to turn in found money, because we understand the pain of doing without--we get that this money may be sorely needed.

A celebrity shoplifts, and it's food for gossip, a low-income person shoplifts and they're branded as scum. Unfortunately like it or not, the whole of the human race revolves around image. In the end, it doesn't matter what our edcational or income level is, we're mostly all a mob of shallow saps, deep down.

8 Things I’m Passionate About.

1. Dr Who
2. Writing
3. learning/education
4. horses
4. Antique saddles
6. liberalism
7. history
8. getting health care to all Americans, and not just the selfish masses with private insurance.
9. nature/the enviornment
10. books/reading

8 Things I Want to Do Before I Die.

I really can't think of anything that's actually practical, and/or has an actual chance of coming true...just stupid wishes, really, but I'll list them, anyway:

1. get published
2. write a good play
3. write a really good Dr Who story
4. visit the UK
5. Live in the UK or somewhere in Europe
6. own a horse--or at least be around them a lot more
7. learn to drive a horse
8. find some voice work--other than telemarketing
9. do something good with my life
10. someday finish my education and get my B.A.

8 Things I Say Often.

1. "Cool."
2. "That's lovely."
3. "Charming" (said sarcasticly, after I speak with a rude person on the phone)
4. Well, I'm not gonna' invite YOU, to my next soiree (see above)
5. "Wow."
6. "hey, how's it goin?"
7. "Take care."
8. "fan-friggin'-tastic."
9. "son of a gun!" (I'm trying to train myself not to swear)
10. "I'm tired."

8 Books I’ve Read Recently.

1. Dr. Who Sting of the Zygons
2. The Shadow Riders
3. The Last Gun
4. Walden
5. The Bad Samaritain
6. Dr Who (Timewyrm) Exodus
7. A Murder on the Appian Way
8. Desire Under the Elms

8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over.

God, this list is going to seem so lame and sappy:

1. Joy to the World---Three Dog Night
2. I'm On Top of the World---The Carpenters
3. Kokomo---The Beach Boys
4. I'm Gonna' Be (500 miles)---The Proclaimers
5. In the Mood---Glenn Miller
6. Ruby---Kaiser Cheifs
7. Listen to the Music---Doobie Brothers
8. Ashoken Farewell---Jay Unger and Molly Mason

8 Things That I've eaten this week:

1. BBQ ribs
2. hot dogs
3. Chinese takeaway
4. Cherry chicken over couscous
5. Creamy tuna casserole
6. Pizza
7. eggs and bacon
8. ketchup topped meatloaf, with Harvard (sweet and tangy) beets, and mashed potatoes

"RUBY"

Sorry for the mildly rude post title, but...

I think I've seen Uranis! Pull yer pants up for pity's sake!

Oh, I could go on all night like this...but I wouldn't want to drive my blog friends and visitors away...and, crude humour really isn't me, truth to tell...well, maybe a little..mini-me?

Actually, as I was waiting for a bus this evening, as my ears were growing numb, standing there on the windy kerb, I looked up to the west-southwest, and there, hanging low in the twilight, was a very bright star--and nearly directly above it, was another, much smaller, bright star.

I used to have a star-gazer's chart, and a telescope, but that was over 20 years ago. I had no clue what I was seeing.

I'm wondering if it's Neptune on the bottom--the big bright star, with Uranis hovering over it?

Can't find much information on the web--it's there, but mostly for science geeks, and not for techno dummies, like me. Ah well, whatever I was seeing, it sure was beautiful.

I did a bit of shopping post-work...went and made the last payment on one of my two layaways--have the winter boots on layaway at another shop. I got myself a new baseball cap for Christmas, and the cats a Christmas stocking--shaped like a cowboy boot...it's really cute. I'd post a pic of the hat, but there aren't any on the web--Tractor Supply Company has a crap website that only lists the basics and not their whole line.

I wanted a pet-themed stocking, but they were sold out, so I went with a cowboy theme, 'cos I like western stuff, always have--I even went on a date with a genuine wrangler from Colorado, once (that's what they call a cowboy who works with horses instead of cattle).

Anyway, I have to go easy with the spending, despite the windfall, but, I might (if I can find it cheaply enough) splurge on a coffee maker and a badly needed hair cut. I miss coffee...my old-time coffee pot got accidentally left on the hob too long, and the bottom got all burnt and nasty. I've not had coffee at home in a good many months. I miss my Green Mountain coffee after dinner.

I got home, walked into the living room, said hello to the cats: Charlie, Boots and Flame. A couple of minutes later, Flame threw up a hairball. Ah yes, nothng says "welcome home" like a little projectile vomiting.

So, I hung up the cat's stocking in the front window, and had a nice supper of BBQ ribs, mashed turnips and buttermilk biscuits. I know this will really sound lame, but I was so thrilled to find the mashed turnips. No, really. There's this company that sells frozen mashed turnips (swedes), already seasoned and ready to nuke in the microwave, and they taste fantastic--only, they are also very, very hard to find, and I've not been able to buy any since 2006. so, instead of some corn with my meal, I had the turnips--and, the ribs were the heat and heat kind--baby back ribs already cooked and slathered with BBQ sauce...just pop 'em in the microwave, and they're done. All I had to really do, was put the refrigerated biscuit dough in the oven, and let them bake for 15 or 20 minutes....presto, and nice dinner! Say what you will about ready meals, but they're a godsend when one is knackered.

Gah--just had some guy tell me he was really busy and didn't have time to listen to me give him a phone number (which I'm required to do by federal law)...only, he was gabbling on and on and on about how he didn't have time--taking four times the amount of time it would have taken me to just give him the flippin' phone number!

And the women on the phone today--what a bunch of crass lowlife b_tches! I've met more polite burly hairy merchant marines!

Gals, if you're reading this, being an attrractive female is as much about MANNERS as it is about what you wear, your makeup and your hairstyle. It's just too bad that so many of you would rather be trash than ladies....trash is so ugly.

I suppose men have become so lax in their own manly standards, as well, that they don't care how women behave, as long as they can dip their wick in something.

The fact that more than half my fellow Americans, apparently can't even make the effort to answer a telephone civily and properly, shows how they've deliberately choosen the path of intellectual least resistance--they choose to be stupid, in other words, 'cos it's easier than having the pride to behave like actual civilized human beings.

Sorry, every American on the phone today--from New York to Minnesota, to California, has been so warm and fuzzy, don't know if I can stand it. (Yes, I'm being sarcastic, sorry.)

Time to go home. I don't do alcohol, but God, I could use a drink after this. Americans suck.

I rarely ever blog while at work, if I can help it, but, I've some good news I just have to pass on.

Got my post this morning, and lo and behold, there was a letter from Social Security--since I'm undergoing evalutaion, I tore open the letter with trembling fingers, worried to death that it was bad news...it wasn't only NOT bad news, it was fantastic news!

First, got a Christmas card from an aunt I've not heard from in years--with $20 in it, of all things.

Then, there's the notice from Social Security that they've underpaid me, and are sending me the difference with my regular monthly cheque--to the tune of $1000 coming to me this month...and, my monthly cheque will go up 30 dollars starting in January.

Whoo-hoo! I can pay my bills--well, I can get caught up, anyway...and get my winter boots off of layaway, and not have to wait until January.

Most of what's left over will go into my rainy day (aka crisis) fund, but I am glad I'm going to be able to get my nephew a gift this year, as I didn't think I'd could, and make a donation to the local food pantry, as well.

1) How do you like your grilled cheese?

With thick yellow American cheese and crispy bacon, between any kind of bread, grilled in butter and eaten with some tinned tomato soup made with 1/2 milk and 1/2 heavy cream, two slices of sweet bread and butter pickle and potato chips (crisps).

2) Where did you go on your last vacation?

I went with my archaeology class on a study holiday to Egypt in Jan. 2004.

3) Who are your grandparents?

I can't remember what's dad's dad was named--he died in 1924, Gran on dad's side was Bertha, mum's mum was Gladys and her dad was William. They had all passed on before I'd turned six, so I really never knew any of them.

4) Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Still stuck in Glens Falls, doing nothing...or homeless...or sectioned.

5) Where are you at noon everyday?

On work days, usually at work. Otherwise, I'm usually here at home.

6) How many speeding tickets have you gotten?

A sum total of none.

15) When was the last time you swam?

This summer I went for a quick dip in Lake George, after work.

16) What do you order at Subway?

I never eat at subway, I don't like them...prefer local sub shops.

17) Do you keep your closets organized?

(snorts) yeah, right, sure....(snorts again)

18) How do you make headaches go away?

I rarely get headaches, thankfully--but I use Advil.

19) Have you owned a beta before?

A beta what? Don't think so...

20) If you moved out of state where would you go?

Vermont, Montana, Washington state--doesn't matter, as long as it's not the deep south...or Texas...or New Jersey.

22) Did you attend pre-school?

They didn't have pre-school when I was wee, you went to kindergarten or stayed home until the first grade.

23) What do your curtains look like, in the room you're in?

Don't have any--even if I could afford such big curtains, I'd have no way to put them up--can't reach.

24) What character did you most imagine yourself to be, as a child?

I remember there was this comic book cowboy character, named "Kid Colt," and I'd lay on my bed, playing with my cowboy figures, pretending I was him...I also remember pretending I was Zorro, and one of the characters from Man from U.N.C.L.E., and Agent 99 from Get Smart.

25) How do you make eggs?

Usually scrambled or an omelet--sometimes over hard, as well.

Yesterday I wrote how a wal-mart employee was murdered in Long Island, by a hoarde of Christmas shoppers.

Well, the story gets worse. It seems some 2000 people had lined up to snatch up the bargains at the Walmart's special Black Friday sale--some as early as the day before.

When the young man on the staff, tried to open the doors, the two-legged pigs not only ran him down, they ran other staff and shoppers down as well--including a woman who was 8 months pregnant. Shoppers didn't even try to slow down--crumbing the door like an accordian.

Even after it was announced that they'd killed--murdered is the right word here, really---the young man, and that management was closing the store, these terrorist shoppers were such rubbish "human beings" that they refused to leave--and when they did leave, some of them stepped over the dead body, like it was just a rolled up carpet.

Methinks these shoppers have just lost their right to be called human beings.

Of course, none of these fine upstanding examples of American citizenship, has offered to come forward with information, and certainly none of these cowardly greedy-guts have stepped up to the plate and admitted his or her guilt.

I've heard a few of my fellow Americans saying how awful these "towelheads" are that butchered those people in India---but, I ask, looking at what happened in Long Island--how are we so different?

My hillbilly ne'er do well neighbours (Think gypises in a two-room apartment, what a joy)...the one's that spent Thanksgiving day filling the hallway outside my door with their pot smoke--who were celebrating their family holiday last Saturday with a roast turkey and fifty cans of beer, are now, as I write this, having a knock-down drag-out free for all, at half-past 11 in the evening. Fan-friggin'-tastic. And I have to get up early...it really sucks to be me.

One of my fan-girl friends from another website, is all a-gabble with the latest DT news...some of which I already know, and some of which I really don't need to know at all.

seems he had a bit part in the film, 1939.

Let's see...what else did she say, oh...he's moving to a house in North London (hmm--tired of the stalkers outside is flat, or getting ready to settle down? and...what's it matter where he lives, really? He's stinking rich--by my rather miserable income standard anyway--if he wants to buy a house, good for him, whoop-de-do.)

He's going to be in a documentary around Christmas

He's seriously dating ____ (none of my business so you can just Google it, as I'm not into reading or spreading celebrity gossip--not one whit)

He was spotted by her friend, while he was out shopping this week....okay, what? Like, so..the man is now living on such a high pedastal that he doesn't need to shop any longer, like the rest of us poor schmucks?

He knows who the next Doctor will be but has been sworn to secrecy--well, he would be, wouldn't he? That's news?

DAVID TENNANT IN EVERY OVERLY-ENTHUSIASTIC FAN GIRL'S DREAMS

I've tried re-writing and re-posting a certain post FOUR times--not only can I not post the post---but, the blog totally IGNORES the changes I just made, and automatically reverts to the ORGINAL post. F'in ay!

I'm pissed, pissed pissed...and I don't mean drunk. Arggh! Have you any idea how much f'in time I just wasted???

keep being told I can't post because of some dumbass "ads widget"

This is a test, this is only a test, please do not adjust your blog.

ADVERTSIING, advert, advertising a-d-v-e-r-t-i-s-in-g

..and I've actually got to work around 5 hours tomorrow. I just came from the grocery store--a bit shell shocked, but still standing.

Yes, the prices have gone up again--good gosh almighty! That's a bit of an understatement. Thought, the grocery store did have an unadvertised post-Thanksgiving special on frozen turkeys--49 cents a pound, but all they had left was a couple of really huge one's, that were still well out of my price range--and my appetite. I toyed with the idea of getting a turkey, roasting it, then freezing the meat to have for casseroles, soups and sandwiches and all that other palaver one does with leftovers..but, meh--who wants to be eating turkey for two whole months?

So, another very unexciting evening in the city of Glens Falls. They do have their "downtown Christmas" celebration next Sunday--they'll even be running trolley service on Sunday...oooh, there's a thrill.

Yes, starting Monday, it's the Hometown Holiday Week in Glens Falls. Glens Falls bills itself as "hometown usa" or some such nonsense, because it was voted by some magazine way back in the 1940's or whenever, to be the nicest hometown in America or something like that.

There is such a thing as letting go, and stepping into the 21st century. Glens Falls seems a wee reluctant to do that.

On Monday there's soup tastings at downtown resturants--all three or four of them, and live broadcast from a local radio station from the local charity soup kitchen, to get people to come in with donations.

On Tuesday the celebration continues with free public ice skating in the hockey rink of the civic center.

On Wednesday night, the historic Chapman house/museum will be open with a Victorian Christmas theme and characters. The Children's book shop downtown, called 'the dog ate my homework,' will feature Christmas story telling, as well. And, Aimee's Dinner and a Movie, a cinema-restaurnat downtown, will be playing "A Christmas Carol"

On Friday, Santa will be at one downtown bank, while Father Christmas will be at another. There'll be "Sax-O-Claus," a strolling Santa playing the saxophone. (That name sounds a bit rude, if you ask me). In a downtown alley will be some reindeer. There's to be the officical lighting ceremony of the city tree, followed by fireworks.

Also, The Adirondack Pipes and Drums will be playing at City Hall, where there will also be horse and carriage rides by a private carriage service

(Normally, I no longer go for carriage rides because of abuse issues, but this is an acquaintance of mine, whom I personally know does take very good care of her horses--they're like part of the family, so I might have a go, as I've not been near a horse in ages and it will be nice to see her again).

Saturday is Winter Wonderland at City Hall, complete with Santa again, and music by some local performer. More carriage rides, free gift wrapping service by the local radio-tv station, and free karate lessons for the kiddes--'cos nothing says "ho-ho-ho" like a kick to the crotch.

And this whirlwind holiday tour winds down on Sunday, with..wait for it...trolley rides for the cheapskates to view the holiday lights, and for the more affluent, there's a gourmet cookie (biscuit) sale at the local museum, combined with a historic home tour and reception, and a holiday pops concert by the Glens Falls Symphony Orchestra, all for 25 dollars.

Whoo-hoo! Can you stand the excitment people? I bet you lot who live in London, or Paris or Aberdeen, are really jealous off all the cool things we have to do, here in Glens Falls, ey?

Well, I won't be enjoying my weekend too overly much--my toilet's broken again. Can't get a man in for at least a couple of days. Ah well. At least my Christmas tree is up, ey?

Yeah, if you're driving down the main drag in Glens Falls some night, and you see a little tree in an upstairs window, with wee blue and white lights...give me a toot on your car horn, and you can say, "Oh, that's the old maid's house with the broken toilet."

In a sick twist of Christmas irony, the holiday of peace and love, has resulted in the death of a Walmart clerk and injuries to another clerk and several would-be holiday shoppers.

Black Friday--the day after Thanksgiving when shops across America open their doors to Christmas shoppers as early as 5 or 6 am, offering huge discounts on popular high-ticket items, such as X-box and HD TV's, as well as clothing and toys, has sparked a tragedy in one Long Island suburb.

Christmas shoppers stormed the doors at 5am, as one employee was opening them, trampling the clerk to death.

There's a lot of greedy-guts in Long Island, who should never be allowed to celebrate Christmas again, and in fact, should get a lifetime of poo in their stockings.

It's sad when one isn't able to give anything for Christmas, I know...and it's also sort of sad, when one doesn't get any presents for Christmas--which happened to me in 2006...but still..you know what? I survived...and so will anyone...you can always MAKE you own prezzies for Christmas, for pity's sake, or buy stuff after Christmas...or put stuff on layway, if the store has it. To hurt someone, just to get a material possession--in the name of the supposed "God of love," that's just...sick.

Well...it's Friday morning, and I'd rather be in bed, all cozy and warm, but have to schlep out to work, alas. It's overcast and dreary out there, few snowflakes flying through the air, now and then. Basically, if I could describe today's weather--and my feelings--this morning, it would be: bleh.

Nothing much more to say. Hope you lot all have a good day, cheers.

New York state is in some serious poo, right now. Revenues are dwindling--in a state that just a couple of years ago, had a surplus, now, wanton spending by state legislators at the state capitol building in Albany, is being excerbated by the mortgage crisis.

Pretty much overnight, the state of New York went from a budget surplus, to a massive budget deficit. Now, a second mortgage crisis is looming on the horizon, threatening New York and several other states. This new crisis is different, in that it isn't about homes, it's about shops and malls and hotels. Shipping malls, office buildings and hotels are all in danger of foreclosure and many major name shops--such as Sears and Home Depot--BOTH of which are within a few miles of me, are gearing up to close stores, and possibly, if they cannot weather the storm, filing for bankruptcy.

The trickle down effect will be shattering for local communities across New York. The most immediate effect of course, will be hundreds--perhaps even thousands--of employees out of a job. But, other consequeces of this, include: lost local and state tax revenues...in a resort area such as ours, that's hugely dependant on these revenues, that's very bad indeed. But, also, social services will become more strapped, as requests for assistance will escalate--from the elderly, disabled, poor and working poor--whose ranks will now be multiplied by formerly middle-class workers who've never needed assistance before...and elderly pensioners who've lost their cushy pensions, as well.

Secretary of the Treasury, Henry Paulson, rather than help, has suddenly made the situation far, far worse.

After promising to take on toxic mortgages by buying them out--one of the key points that got legislators behind him, to give him that 700 billion dollar blank check, Paulson inexplicably did a complete about-face and changed his mind---sending stock plumeting, taking investor confidence with it. Paulson's sheer stupidity and sudden baffling truculance regarding the mortgage bailout, has left many businesses teetering on the brink, and towns and cities across New York and other parts of the US, holding their collective breaths, waiting for the fall.

The reason for the new mortgage crisis is sheer lack of regulation. Banks and other lenders were allowed to wantonly sell mortgages to investors as a package deal---leaving people who had these mortgages without any recourse....a bank can assist a mortgage holder, if it holds the mortgage--if it's trundled off the mortgage to investors...the business owner is plumb outta' luck.

So far, there has been no obvious signs that Paulson and others are changing the rules of that system--though there's been some talk of doing so, nothing as yet has happened.

Republicans all through the crisis have been very slow and relectant to act, and when they do act, have reversed promises and done little to change the rules which lead to this disaster. Let us hope that the incoming admisistration in January, will not follow suit.

My writing is a bit offish tongight--my fingers aren't keeping up with my brain--or is that the other way around?

So, thought I'd do a visual blog instead, to close out for the night--nite all, pleasant dreams.

I hate cat seat drivers, don't you? (Get it, cat seat, back seat...oh, never mind, go back to sleep.)

First I get some really strange e-mails in my hotmail box...more on them, later.

Then, hotmail's down, won't sign me in. I try "help"...let me just say, that Microsoft's definition of "help" really should read "Good luck trying to get any help from us, sucker."

The wizards at MS may have the tecnological know-how, and loads of cash---but the are dirt poor in the basic common sense department.

It told me to go to their website and check on the status of the service--well, I follow directions to the letter--and get...more directions--pretty much identical to the one's I followed to get tot he website, and zero information about the status of the service.

Believe me, I can picture the person who set up this web page--

This is what the people working at Microsoft remind me of: these white collar workers who've lost their cushy jobs, hanging on to the delusion (usually), that they can get the same type of job if they just keep tweaking that resume...a month turns to six months, turns to a year, and they're still sitting on their arse whinging, living off their spouse's income--but hey, their CV looks fantastic.

Anyway, hotmail's toast for now, I reckon. I've got two other e-mails--but bugger me if hotmail isn't my main e-mail address--the other two being merely throw away addresses...one for spam (when I send for info or comment on iffy websites where my e-mail address may be sold or farmed), the other for spare...like when hotmail is down.

But, I got that suspect spam again, from a phony TV production company, saying that they were with the BBC and looking for people to be in their programme about bloggers, they'll pay compensation, please send my personal information... yadda-yadda-yadda....this time the spam came with a totally different address, though. The BBC never did get back to me on that, so maybe this scam is still pretty new, or maybe it really is some nutjob targeting me for my personal information? Or maybe the BBC simply didn't believe me, or didn't care at all?

I also got the following e-mail...I send a reply but it came back as undeliverable--as I suspected it would. The IP address is for an internet service in somewhere in Hungary (.broadband.hu)--which leaves me to wonder, why is there no country called "Wellfed?" Anyway , so it's NOT really a message from the person who signed this, fan-girls, so don't ask me for any imformation, ey?

Hello,

I got your e-mail address from your profile, I hope you don't mind. I like your Roasting David blog, it is very amusing. And no, I'm not at all offended. Don't know where you get all those photos of me, but you certainly put them to good use! Cheers, DT.

I mean, COME ON! David Tennant would never read my blog, and he'd never give a flying fig for the likes of me! With my looks, I'm the type of person someone like him makes a joke of, not writes notes to--cripes! The man wouldn't touch a person like me with a ten meter long pole! I mean, the man's a major celebrity, with a very full and active life, and...come on, no way. Really, why me? I had someone--think it was back in summer of 2006, who kept writing nasty notes on another blog I had, telling me he was David Tennant...now I've got a new one--albeit a much kinder nutter.

"Kinder nutter?" Did I just write that? Argh-think it's getting close to my bed time.

Why am I getting all the nutjobs, lately? Did someone leave the asylum doors open lately?

Well, here it is, Thanksgiving night, and I've just had my first meal of the day, a ham salad sandwich.

It's just as well I didn't make any real plans for the holiday feast, 'cos quite frankly, I just haven't felt much like eating these past two days. Yesterday I had breakfast, some dip and chips...nothing else. This morning I had some cheese and crackers...I had to go to the store down the way, 'cos I was out of milk, and my stomach finally decided it was hungry, so I picked up a cheap sandwich to nosh on.

I do have the makings for the cherry chicken and whatnot, however, I'm finding that I'm less than enthusiastic about cooking for myself tonght. Meh--I get that way sometimes.

I've been a bit down, last week or two....you'd think, as each year passes, I'd grow out of the grief, but it seems like every year, it just gets worse. Very strange, that is. I never thought it would be like this. They say that tired old saying of "time heals all wounds," but I think that's just bunkum. Mum died, around 7 in the morning--I was a bit too rattled to know for sure what time it was, I'd been summoned by a sheriff's deputy to the hospital at around 1 in the morning--my home phone was broken, and I only had a mobile phone on me, and wasn't getting a signal--so, exactly like with the night my dad died--only that time I didn't hear the phone 'cos I was deathly ill with travler's sickness--I woke to a cop pounding on my door in the middle of a cold night.

I'll never forget that drive--I drove down the Glens Falls Mountain Rd.--a hairpin curvy mountain road that was sort of a short cut to the city, a road I'd driven countless times, taking mum to the dialysis center--I remember thinking, that that would be the last time I would ever drive down that road, while mum was still alive. Hospital staff weren't the most courtesous around, and the ICU mum was in, had only just been built, and the waiting area wasn't exactly people friendly...there wasn't even a receptionist, comfy couches or snack machines there...just chairs. I remember dozing on a wee hard sofa all night, in between checking on mum. Around 5am, they told me there was no hope of saving her, that she'd slipped into a coma...and handed me a clip board....with a paper attatched to it. And once I'd signed that paper, my mum would die.

Some of you know all this, but for those of you that don't:

A year later, I was given an eviction notice--my plaugy grasping chav Brooklyn landlord's had a son, whom suddenly decided that he wanted to move into the house in Lake George, where I had my flat--and where another man had a room, downstairs. We both had cats. The landlords used the cats as an excuse to evict us both--me, less than a week after my 46th birthday. If not for the help of a friend, I not only would have lost all my pets, but all my possesions, and, I would have been homeless...for me, literally I was staring down at my own personal living hell.

In the end, I could only find a place that would take three cats--which meant that I had to put my two elderly cats-brother and sister--Red and JR, to sleep. Red was getting on, and was starting to show signs of a serious illness, but, Red was absolutely my best friend. I brought him into this world, and the thought of seeing him out, just about broke what was left of my heart. I miss him so much.

Last year, I also teetered on the brink of homelessness, as a pay cut at work, was followed by a garnishment of my wages by a student lender. I was working flat out, 6 to 7 days a week, sometimes split (day-night) shifts--but, still, I was often going hungry...I was also without health care...no insurance, and suffering from a horrendously painful tooth abscess, that eventually spread to my face, and made me so ill, that by the new year, I was hospitalized with. Also, last Christmas, I couldn't pay my electric/gas bill, and had a disconnect notice hovering over me, through to the new year.

So you see, as much as I used love Christmas--I mean, I just couldn't wait for it--now, it's not exactly been the cheeriest time of year for me, these last several years. Dad too, died, shortly after the new year...and, ever since mum died, I've been completely alone, with only the cats for company, and people that I talk to online.

If I seem a bit touchier than usual, or angry or sad...that's partly why...well, that and my naf personality. Some people wish for plastic surgery, or boob jobs, or liposuction--I wish for a personality transplant, ha-ha.

Gah--this is a depressing post, isn't it? Sorry, it wasn't intended to be. I just needed to say it, that's all. No worries, I'm fine...yes I'm sad, but really I'm fine, honest. One day at a time, that's my motto--dont' look forward and don't dwell too hard on the past, just take life minute by minute, 'cos in the end, that's all I've got.

Every family in the US, has their own holiday traditions, regarding our annual Thanksgiving day feast. In the US, Thanksgiving is often linked with Christmas--much in the same way Boxing Day is linked to Christmas, in Canada, the UK and other parts of the world.

Thanksgiving is America's second-most important holiday. It doesn't really go back to pilgrim times though--it's a fairly "new" holiday, that came about in the 19th century. It's a day just like the name says: a day for giving thanks for the blessings of the year that's gone by, and day to be with family and friends, and, basically, a day to relax and stuff yer face...well, for those of us fortunate to have the day off, in the US, many resturant workers, as well some shop clerks and convenient store clerks, hospital and emergency staff, don't have that option. So, I give thanks to them, for taking their holiday to serve us, and I give thanks to my lovely, lovely friends, who I've been so blessed with, over the past few years. I give thanks to my cats, for loving me. I give thanks for Russell T. Davies and his fellow producers, the staff and crew at BBC Wales and David Tennant, for making Dr Who and bringing such joy into my life again...even if only for 40 minutes or so. I give thanks that I have a roof over my head, and food to eat. I give thanks for still having at least some of my possessions. And, I give thanks for having a Christmas tree again, it's something I've missed sorely, even tho' I've not got much reason to celebrate the holiday, any longer..it does cheer up the room.

Anyway, growing up, mum used to put on the usual feast every year--tho' sometimes it would vary. One year when I was in high school, a class mate hooked me up to a relative of theirs, who sold pheasants. They sold mum a nice plump frozen pheasant, all ready to be roasted, and gave us a discount, as well...and so one year we had pheasant instead of turkey--and it was delicious! What a treat that was...over here, pheasant isn't sold in supermarkets or butchers, it's very difficult to find, and usually very expensive.

Usually though, mum made the traditional turkey. But, never Butterball. (the most popular brand of turkey over here) This will sound silly, but mum had a bad experience with a Butterball turkey once, and swore off them forever. One year, she forget to take the bird out of the freezer (very much like moi did with her chicken yesterday), and spent about 8 hours running and pourting hot water over it, to get it to thaw enough for her to stuff it.

Our day began with mum getting the turkey ready to go in the oven. Then, we all sat down to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, on tele. After, it was an afternoon of chips (crisps) and dip, cheese and crackers and other snacks, and watching old films on television--in later years, it was the original Star Wars trilogy, but when I was growing up, it was movies like Wizard of Oz and It's a Wonderful Life, and such. Then dinner. Our meal consisted of sitting down, at the kitchen table, having some shirmp cocktail (except me, I didn't like it)--this was simply fresh shirmp, sold packed inside a hot tomatoey cocktail sauce, seasoned with horseraddish---I was given a small glass of orange juice each year, instead.

After we said grace...for some reason a task that usually fell to me--and after mum admonished dad to stop picking the meat off the turkey--we'd dive in.

Our menu traditionally was:

Roast turkey stuffed with homemade bread dressing made with Bell's poultry seasoning, hot rolls with butter, tinned green beans or peas & carrots (later replaced by broccolli with cheese sauce), those little creamed onions, freshed mashed potatoes with giblet gravy, and cranberry sauce (jelly).

Desert varied every year, but traditionally we had pumpkin or apple pie with either ice cream or whipped cream, but sometimes we might have an ice cream cake, or hot fudge sundaes.

We didn't have wine on Thanksgiving, but all drank cold milk, instead.

It was one of the few times we used tablecloths and centerpiece decorations in our house, during the year...my biggest memory is the smell of roasting turkey, and the constant gabble of the tv in the background. Mum had got this little candle, that looked just like a tom turkey, that she lit every year...I think we had that for about 5 or 6 years, until it finally gave out...otherwise we used just plain old candles...again, about the only time of year we ever ate by candlelight.

Then, dad watched the news, and we sat around the televison, watching Gone With the Wind or whatever special film they were showing (dad rarely watched football at home, mostly he just stayed in bed and napped the day away, or went down to the village, to our volunteer firehouse's bar, to play some gin rummy with the guys, if he was so inclinded--another thing for us girls to thank God for)

What--if you had one--was your family's TG tradition?

On the first hour of Christmas the first thing you hear from me, is...

"Friggle-fraggle, hugger-mugger, frickin-frackin tree!, mumble-grumble..!"

On the second hour of Christmas the second thing you hear from me, is...

"Frickin-frackin' mumble-grumble, hugger-mugger...feckin' LIGHTS tangled in knots! Feck! Shite! mumble, grumble..."

On the third hour of Christmas the third thing you hear from me, is...

"Golly-woobble, hugger-mugger, fricker-francker...where's the stinkin' ornament hangers! feck, arse, mumble grumble..."

On the forth hour of Christmas, the forth thing you hear from me, is...

"grumble, growl, hiss-spat, hugger-mugger, bloomin' H, don't tell me the stinkin' tree stand is busted? shite, feck, hugger-mugger, arrgh..."

On the fifth hour of Christmas the fifth thing you hear from me, is...

"Crikey, gol-dang-it, hugger-mugger, wibble-wobble, feck, snarp, Yeah, I KNOW the tree is crooked! feck arse mumble grumble frack...."

On the sixth hour of Christmas the sixth thing you hear from me, is...

"Oi! No! feck, arse, wigget-bigget, golly-wobble, feckin' a--that strand of lights has gone out? feck, arse, gol-dang-it-all..."

On the seventh hour of Christmas, the seventh thing you hear from me, is...

"Gol-durn it, whataa-mutta What d'ya mean, they're all sold out? fricka-fracka, grumble-mumble, shite me with a hose...."

On the eighth hour of Christmas, the eigth thing you hear from me, is...

"Mutha-huffa, frick-a-frack, mumble-grumble...they won't be back in 'till AFTER Christmas? sunuva, hugger mugger, feck, arse, shite....

On the ninth hour of Christmas, the ninth thing you hear from me, is....

"Oh bells-mells, fricka-fracka, huggle-muggle, zippa-zappa my bloomin' Christmas card list has gone missing? fricka -fracka, hugger-mugger...

On the tenth hour of Christmas the tenth thing you hear from me, is...

"Oh feck, hugger-mugger, huddle-muddle, fricka-fracka....blimey! look at that, the queue to the till is tailbacked out the back door and into the rear car park! feckin' blinkin' bloomin' mutha-huffa...."

On the eleventh hour of Christmas the eleventh thing you'll hear from me, is...

"Freakin' A, not again, blinkin' blonkin' mutha huffa...the tree fell over AGAIN? blinking blonkin' frippa-frappa, humble-grumble..."

On the twelfth hour of Christmas, the twelfth thing you'll hear me say, is...

"oh shite! mutha huffa, frimble-framble, hecka-pecka, wimble-womble, feck, arse, shite--What d'ya mean, I have to work late on Christmas eve? fricka-fracka, mumble-grumble..."

"No, sorry. I know I'm sexiicious, but I have to draw the line at you snogging me on camera, Christian...erm--meet me in the supply room, later."

I'm sorry, just can't help myself--here I am, alone on the holiday, no big meal to get (foregoing the American tradition of turkey, and having cherry chicken with couscous and cauliflower with holandaise sauce--easy-peasy, no muss, no fuss, no bother), so I've got all this time on my hands, no tele to watch, saving my DVD's for later on tonight...so, gotta' do something to amuse myself: "I know!" Says I, "I'll pick on David Tennant!"

Well, okay, I didn't actually say that. I'm just bored and messing about. Sorry DT, wherever you are.

So, what do you think, ey? See a resemblance, or...not?

(PS: check out the photo! I wonder, was Tennant drunk or did he just come from a quick shag--'cuse the rude pun, it was unintentional-- Notice the dishevled and mis-buttoned shirt)

Yup, as my late mum used to say, "you can always choose your friends, but you can't choose your relatives!"

I was bored, so I put the tree up. I put on the James Bond soundtrack CD that a friend just sent me (bless), and hauled that artifical sucker out of the closet...the branches didn't want to stay on, and it was a rather sorry bedraggled mess, after being crammed into a small closet after a year, but she's up.

Of course, I had my Christmas traditional, something-just-has-to-go-wrong-while-putting-up-the-tree bit. I got the first strand of lights unraveled and strung on the tree--when I noticed I'd done the wrong end. The plug that goes in the extension cord, generally goes on the floor--I had it dangling from the treetop...not a helluva lot of use there, is it?

Mind you, Flame is in full=blown heat, which means I'm trying to get the tree un-mucked, with James Bond tunes playing, accompained by: RRROOOW, RRROWWW, YOWWWL, RAAAGH! (that last one is her throaty, Doctor's companion being attacked by a monster type of shriek), RRROW, RRROW...

For the past four hours, mind you...going on five, now! Every time I think she's shut her gob, something sets her off and she's at it again...god, I hope she doesn't get me evicted.

I'm not having a fun evening here, folks.

But, got the lights on, the ornaments on--lost some ornament hangers, but not going to worry about it, there's decorations enough on the tree, and no one's likely ever going to see it indoors, anyway. It's only about 36 inches tall, so I have it on top of my octogonal table that sits in front the front windows. All the blue and white lights seem to be working, this year, which is great! No running around like a loon, trying to find matching replacements.

I never thought I'd go for an "unnstural" Christmas tree--that is, something that doesn't actually look like a real pine tree--but I rather like this one.

However, there are some truly ugly trees out there, for instance:

I'm sorry, but I just really think this looks ridiculous:

Erm--take it from someone who's been there, done that and got the tee shirt to prove it--Eastern White Pine sucks as a Christmas tree!

I'm sure at least some of us has heard the saying--or perhaps, has even said, "...that only happens once in a blue moon."

Now, just how often is that, might you ask?

Well, there's the "real" blue moon, like you get in winter time--where the moon is so bright, it casts deep shadows and makes the snow glow blue. I can say, with utmost authority, that being in the winter woods and/or fields, under a blue moon, is almost a religious experience. It's a high one can never in their life, ever get from a controlled substance. And, unlike an artifical high, the feeling stays with you forever, years after the moment has passed, just by the grace of your own memory of it. Because, once you've experienced it, a blue moon lives inside you forever.

But, there's other "blue moon's out there:

I've been truly blessed to meet some outstandingly fantastic human beings, through the internet--some have even gone on to be my best friends. Still...more often than not, people are mean to me...why?

Well, I have come to firmly belive that that's what I bring out in people. I SUCK as a human being....some people just haven't seen that side of me yet, I reckon...cos if they did, they'd leave me in a heartbeat.

You know, I pretty much grew up being picked on and teased--and even physically hurt, for no other reason than I was fat, ugly, and sometimes a bit slow.

You'd think I'd get used to people being rude and/or mean to me...but you know what? I'm not. It hurts just as much at 48, as it did at 8 or 18 or 28.

Still, I'm stuck in job, where I have to deal with rude, obnoxious mean Americans, every damned day.

Then, I blog--not here, but on Absolute Radio's website, and it I get nailed with rude comments from walking livestock on there, as well!

And, because I blogged about it, to vent my anger and frustration and pain, rather than hold it in, now I've made people mad--even after I got rid of the offending post!

Life sucks and then you die, and if you're really lucky, you won't grow old.

I know this is a pathetic whinge on my part, but sometimes, I really get so sick of people being mean to me. I never thought I'd hear myself say this--it's my second-worse nightmare, but..I want to be put away. No, really. I want to be institutionalized (sectioned, if you will), cos I just don't really want to be in this place I'm in any more, and for the first time in my life, I just don't have the will to fight my way out of it. I just want to just let go of trying to live a "normal" life on my own, and just blow it off. I don't want to be alone anymore. Three years...that's my limit, I guess....it's only three years...and I have (barring illness or accident) whole decades of this, ahead of me. That's more daunting than ANY of you can even fathom.

Latest news I've garnered from the web:

David Tennant is set to make a second Christmas Day appearance in a More 4 documentary celebrating Shakespeare's greatest heroes.
To Be Or Not To Be… In Shakespeare will interview actors about the challenge of taking on iconic Shakespearean roles. Tennant will join Ian McKellen, Diana Rigg, Anthony Sher and Simon Callow in the 60-minute documentary.

The programme forms part of a More 4 season dedicated to McKellen and will accompany its adaptation of Trevor Nunn's RSC production of King Lear, in which the actor reprises the title role.

Now that sounds very cool--good for the British for keeping up Shakespeare! Long live the old sod!

Well, I've had my lunch, of sorts, but before I do anything else, just wanted to say hello.

Good news, is that a woman from National Grid told my social worker that I'm okay, that I can pay the bill on Friday, and still stay on the budget plan, and they won't send me a disconnect notice. Hoo-ray!!!

For National Grid to do that, is nothing short of a miracle. That's sort of like if George W. Bush invited the Taliban to Thankgiving dinner at the White House. National Grid never makes exceptions! Wow! Cool!

I've always paid the bill on time--so hopefull that's in my favour.

I get a 159 dollar check on Friday, so I can easily swing the 85 dollars out of that, thankfully. It will mean I won't be able to pay any of my smaller medical bills this month, and it will pretty much obliterate any Christmas spending--'cos I usually use the last check of the internet bill, with is smaller than the Natl. Grid bill--which is already paid, thanks to my stupidity. But, at least the lights and gas will be on for the holidays, so who cares about extras? I think I can still manage to buy a couple of tins of tuna and some cat toys for the kitties, but...may not be able to get Christmas cards sent out this year, we'll see.

We got our Thanksgiving bonus today--a ten dollar gift card to Hannaford supermarket. That's where I go to cash my disabliity check, so I can use it when I go, and treat myself to an Indian ready meal of Chicken biryani with basmatti rice, and a packet of peas paneer or punjab eggplant. Yum!!!

I wish we had an Indian resturant around here--nearest one's 15 miles away. Thai, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican, Tex-Mex, Puero Rican, Italian, Polish and Greek, but no curry places.

I'm not really in a Christmasy type of mood--gosh, I used to be such a sap for Christmas! But, I might put up the tree this weekend..meh. If I'm in the mood that is. Awful lot of palaver for just myself and three cats, really. Though, last year several people complemented me on the tree in my window, which is always nice. Really, I used to so take the whole decorating thing so seriously! And prezzies? Gosh, I ADORED Christmas shopping! I used to try so hard to get people the perfect present...which could often be a letdown in my family, 'cos they weren't exactly gracious about presents--if they didn't like it, they let you know about it. Heaven knows where I got that love of Christms from, the way my family was--well, suppose it doesn't matter any more, does it?

So, I'm going to have a short lie down, for a bit. I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open, dunno' why. I'm sick again, apparently, but not bad. Nothing to put me in hospital anyway, knock wood.

Have a good evening all, cheers. xx

You’re feeling: Knackered, very knackered

To your left: (describe in detail)

Closed closet door with two hoodies and 2 scarves--and my dorky winter hat with the ear flaps, hanging from the coat pegs. To the left of the door, is my 1920's beat up old green book shelf on one side--contains my mysteries, general and classic fiction, and some poetry...on top of the book case is a photo of me and my nephew on horseback, a tiny fake plant (flowers), a small plastic model horse, a small bone chine collie dog, and a mini-model pinto horse wearing a silver parade saddle, that also doubles as a Christmas ornament. To the immediate right of the door, is a dark polished faux wood stand with a small brass-finish table lamp that belonged to my dad, an old knick-knack--a cereamic colonial soldier in aqua-green and white, (beating a drum), and a emerald green glass vase with a handmade lace doiley under it, containing some silk lilacs.

On your mind: Do I lie down, or have lunch, first?

Last meal included: 2 eggs scrambled, 2 slices of bacon, a hash brown potato patty, some diet pepsi.

You sometimes find it hard to: Cope with mean or rude people--even tho' I know I have to and need to.

The weather: gray and dreary, chilly and damp, but not cold--it's 2.8 C. Looks like snow or rain, though, but it hasn't done anything yet.

Something you have a collection of: Bryer, Peter Stone and Schelich (mostly) mini model horses.

A hobby you'd like to do, but something is holding you back:

Model railroading--just simply can't afford it, it's a moderately expensive hobby, particulary for someone in my inome range.

A smell that cheers you up: saddle leather or horse sweat

A smell that can ruin your mood:

The smell of a particularly nasty poo in the ladies.

How long since you last shaved:

Erm? Okay, well every day, damn hormones.

The current state of your hair:

Un-curried Shetland pony

The largest item on your desk/workspace (not computer):

My cheezy old vintage plastic table lamp from Woolworth's with the Clydesdale mother and foal in harness.

Your skill with chopsticks:

Never tried them, but I imagine if I have problems holding a pen, that chopsticks would be just a tad beyond my ken.

Which section you head for first in a bookstore:

Easy: the sci-fi section! Dr Who here I come!

Something you’re craving:

Pizza, I'd love to be rich enough to order a pizza, right now. I reeeaalllly don't feel like another ham and cheese sandwich again.

Your general thoughts on global warming:

Well, I think we've come a long way about being self-aware. Certainly, communities seem to be becoming more global warming friendly. The new library in my city, has been built specifially to be environmentally friendly and to reduce the carbon footprint--from local debris removal, to local furniture, to the lighting system and use of natural light. At home, we probably still have a way to go...especially us spoiled lazy Americans (incl. myself), I reckon.

How many times have you been hospitalized this year:

Once overnight, with several long-term (all day/night) ER visits

Favorite place to go for a quiet moment:

Anywwhere outdoors...whether a pine forest, riverbank, hillside or park bench.

You’ve always secretly thought you’d be a good:

Radio presenter, voice over artist....never told anyone that before, so it is pretty much a secret, I guess.

Something that freaks you out a little:

Getting notices in the mail about having pay cuts, benefit cuts...any sudden reduction in my income, that might send my life into a tailspin--since I do so teeter on the brink, financially, will freak me out, just as tad.

Something you’ve eaten too much of lately:

Chips and dip--love French onion dip, but I rarely ever buy it, except between Thanksgiving and New Year's.

You have never:

Had a man--not my dad-- say, "I love you."

You never want to:

do drugs...not a judgement, or a statement: I simply never had the desire.

You would like to meet:

Russell T. Davies, he's such an awesome and inspiring writer.

You'd rather be living in:

I thought until this week, I'd love to live in the UK somewhere, but now...not so sure anymore...not that that wll ever be an issue, any way.

You'd rather be doing:

Writing, or something where I help people, something with history...I don't care anymore, truth to tell, I would just like to have a job where I'm acutally contributing and where I'm really valued and wanted. (yeah, like everyone wants to be in a totally dead-end job)

I've had this dream(s) come true:

Visiting foreign country, seeing ancient ruins, own my own home (okay, a caravan), working with horses.

I've had this dream(s) not come true:

Owning a horse, living in the UK, getting professionally published or even getting a reading, living a normal life.

Tonight I will:

Watch a DVD, listen to music, do a few chores, maybe blog or something.

Erm--riiight.
(I'm kidding, of course. Don't faint or get yer knickers in a twist, fan-girls)

hello all,

I'm rather bleary eyed this morning...no really, can barely see my monitor screen. Damn, I'm tired. Thank god tomorrow is a sleep in day. Fever's gone, thankfully. But I'm so incredibly knackered that I cannot keep my eyes open. And, my bad jaw where I had that horrendous abscess that traveled into my face, a year ago, for some reason is stiff and sore this morning. I had a ghost toothache where the bad tooth was, last night, as well. Not sure what that's all about.

Speaking of tomorrow--Thanksgiving day for us yanks, second biggest holiday of the year, and the official lead up to the Christmas season--it looks like I'll be having spagetti for my holiday nosh, 'cos iditot-girl forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer. Yup, my holiday dinner at present looks and feels more like some flesh-coloured icy chunks of rock, than chicken. Meh--maybe it will thaw in the fridge over the next 24 hours, but I do rather have my doubts. I do, however, have some hamburger (mince) thawed, so I could always make spaghetti bolognese in a pinch, I reckon. After all, it's only just me here, so who cares what I eat for Thanksgiving? Just a day off, for me, really.

They're saying that lobster is the new turkey for thanksgiving. Does that mean that the Easter Bunny will be the new Santa, for Christmas?

It's not too bad out there, this morning. 31 F (minus 2 C), so not real cold, like it was last week. The sun's trying to peek through the clouds. We're supposed to get either a light snow fall or snow showers today, later on. We'll see. Today's supposed to be the busiest travel day of the year, as people depart to go be with their families tomorrow. Sis was going to invite me to Thanksgiving this year, at her place in Vermont--but, I've had her turkey, and trust me, it's not worth the three hour drive there and back.

I might try and go for a visit around Christmas time, though my sister isn't real relibable about her invitations. One year, she invited mum and me to Thanksgiving dinner--and fell asleep on the sofa in a stoned stupor, burning the turkey to a crisp, and serving us green been casserole and cranberry sauce, for our meal. I actually am a bit puzzled by my sister--she won't celebrate Christmas for religious reasons, but celebrates Thanksgiving..which in a way is also a religious holiday.

Anyway, my stupid petition online, that I did as a sort of joke, asking David Tennant to stay on as the Doctor now has all of 13 signers. Oooh, Tennant, better pack that sonic screwdriver away, cos, already they're saying, "David....what-was-his-name?"

I wonder how it will be for him, after he's left the show, watching Dr Who without him in it. Will he be fine with it, and just enjoy it? Or, will it be like re-visiting your childhood home that you cared for, after someone else has moved in to it and made it their own?

There's so many rumours flying around about The Next Doctor, that I can't keep up with them. The big one is that Mis H--the baddie, is really the Rani. That's a fun rumour, but I'd rather wait and be surprised.

I don't totally object to the occasional spoiler, but I don't get this obsession some fans have for knowing what's going to happen before it happens. I mean, for pity's sake! Would you read page 187 of a book, when you're only on page 2, just to see what happens? Wouldn't be much point to reading the book then, would there be? Would you go on a treasure hunt--if you already knew where the treasure was?

Ah well, some people just have no sense of adventure or wonder, these days. Pity, that.

Some news commentators are remarking that America suddenly seems to have two presidents. Obama has been seen as almost taking charge of the economic situtation as Bush sort of shrugs and walks away. Some journalist are being hard put to find kudos for the man, instead, iciting his "intellectual laziness" and "creative paralysis" in his grasp of the true meaning of things. Bush went soley with his own gut, his own iron-clad narrow vision, refusing to ever be steered by common sense, expert advice, or practical reasoning. And, in the end, he paid the price. He caused the downfall of his party, the loss of our allies, and made the world a lot less secure and safer place, than when he came into office, 8 years ago. Not a very good legacy, that.

"Nibbles and chicks, nibbles and chicks, gonna' get me some nibbles and chicks..."

(click pic twice to make bigger)

My two best friends: mum and my half-collie, Shamrock, summer 1979.

I miss mum so much. I've never stopped missing Sham, tho' she passed away at the early age of 7 years, in 1983. Shamrock was my shadow throughout my teens and early 20's...we were more than friends, we were partners...no words needed, just a look, and she knew what I wanted. Sham got sick in 83, and we tried all summer to help her, but the disease was incurable, so we put her down. Until the day mum died, that was the hardest day of my life.

Then, in the mid-80's, there was my little ginger cat, Jamie McCrimmon. He adored me, and I him. Sadly, a mean elderly neighbour complained about him peeing on her roses, and the landlord told me I had to get rid of him. I tried placing him in a home, but he missed me so much, he refused to eat--I would be evicted if I kept him, so I had no choice but to put him to sleep--I still remember the trust and love in his eyes, when the vet put the injection in--it haunts me to this day--I should have gone homeless...In hindsight, I think I would have rather lived on the street and kept Jamie.

Three years ago, I literally watched my mum die. I don't want to talk about that, tho'.

Two years ago, almost the same week that mum died, my old Red was put to sleep. I brought red into the world, bottle nursed him, 'cos he was born ill, and couldn't nurse--went out at 2 in the morning to the all-night K-mart store, to get the special kitten formula from the pet department. When Red disappeared for a three days, I never ceased wandering the streets and woodlots, calling his name, and when he cam limping home, crying piteously with a fractured leg--that was one of the best days of my life. Not the leg injury, knowing he was back and not dead or lost forever. I never let Red go outside again. When I moved to a small town in the Adirondack mountains, Red came with me--and immediately got sick, with a UTI. I got him better again--and he lived with me, through thick and thin, for 18 years...Red would just sit there sometimes, just staring lovingly at my face, just so incredibly blissfully happy, just to have me near him. How many humans can say they've had that sort of love?

I miss Red so much tonight. I still have three cats--and they love me---but, they don't love me like Red, or Jamie or Shamrock did. You know, some pet owners only get an animal like this, only once in their lifetimes--some, never at all. I've been blessed three times over.

And mum...God, she stayed by me through thick and thin, as well. Always, always encouraging me to follow my heart and my dreams, no matter what those dreams were. Mum wanted me to enjoy the world around me. She made every effort to get me to be curious about the world around me, to explore history and nature and the printed word. To love horses, antiques, the theater, whatever interests I had, she encouraged me--usually. There were times she drew the line, out of worry for me, and I railed against it. Still, the times she was encouraging far outnumbered when she nay sayed anything.

Mum liked my company (most of the time), and I hers. We laughed at many of the same things, and shared each other's interests--I in turn encouraging her interests in genealogy, doll houses and paper dolls.

I miss her company...talking about stuff, watching films together, going for rides in the car and simply enjoying the scenery, going to flea markets, auctions and garage sales (mum was a garage sale buff), eating out at resturants, playing a board game, or Super Mario Brothers on my NES, cooking for her. I sometimes feel that very empty gap in my life, that she used to fill.

"Everything I own." I had this album when I still had Shamrock. While Shamrock was still alive, I just thought is a beautiful song--After Sham died, it tore my heart open, and made me cry...still does. And, all these years later, it's STILL a beautiful song. (from the album, "Best of Bread.")

Here's a song for everyone who's ever loved and lost:

Here's part of the press release:

It's Christmas Eve in 1851 and Cybermen stalk the snow of Victorian London, in this special Christmas edition of Russell T Davies's Bafta Award-winning time-travelling drama.

When the Doctor arrives and starts to investigate a spate of mysterious deaths, he's surprised to meet another Doctor, and soon the two must combine forces to defeat the ruthless Miss Hartigan. But are two Doctors enough to stop the rise of the CyberKing?

The BBC has also announced that it shall be airing the Dr Who proms concert as well, during the holiday season.

For more information, click on the BBC link to the right of this post, in my list of Dr Who websites.

As some of you know, I've been rather uhappy with myself, these last several days, even to the point of seriously--albeit only briefly--considering if I should look into having myself institutionalized (sectioned). I'm still not sure what's going on with me, of late. Perhaps the isolation of the last several years is having a more profound effect on me that I'd realized. Maybe the bi-polar thing is worsening, maybe I'm just an idiot, and have been fooling myself all these years. I dunno'.

As I've said, I really don't believe in anything, any longer--but, that's not entirely true. I do believe in my friends, you who live in places far-flung from me...especially the one in Kansas.

Seriously though, it never ceases to amaze me how this small group of human beings, whom I've never met, have hung with me through all the pain and hardship, the stupidity and the rants, and a few times of good news, as well. I'm truly grateful to have them still here with me.

Still, some days it is harder for me than others, to want to get up in the morning. I long to have something to hold on to, something to give me purpose. I long to be wanted for something, needed by someone, to be a useful member of society. I'd given up the notion of actually having an enjoyable career, a while back. I had to face reality head-on, and realize that all I am, and all I'll ever be, is the poo on the bottom of life's shoe.

I mean that. All I'll ever be is the person no one looks at twice, who cleans your toilets, or washes your towels, or rings you up on the phone trying to sell you shit you don't really need.

Well I know, that we make our own lives. No one is in charge but you, and if you fuck up, it's you that did it, and no one else.

Sometimes, it's the emotions we feel before an event, that either drive us into the ground, or lift us up to the hill-tops of life. And, when you aren't fully in control of your emotions--such as with clinical depression, oh, you can so muck up you life, so easily.

I can't afford treatment, not that I haven't asked. I have crap health insurance, a crap health care provider (8 months I've been with them, and I've yet to see, or be assigned to, a proper doctor), and I've got a crap income to enable me to go to the doctor regularly.

If I'm out sick or at a doctor's appointment, I don't get paid. Last month, I got a whopping 33 dollar pay check, 'cos of the stinking flu.

So, I just get sick, so what? No, really. So what? I'm here, I'm not here...would that really change anything? No, not at all--well, it would for my cats, bless them. I suppose my sister would be sad, but she'd get over it. It's not like we've ever been close or anything. It's true though, some days I feel like the most insignificant, meaningless person on the planet. Can't help it, I just do.

Maybe that's why I write, to make me feel like I'm still a human being. I know that I will never become a REAL writer, no one will ever come knocking on my door, asking me to write something for them--and quite frankly, I literally no longer have the emotional will to fight for those naf old dreams. So, I blog and write mediocre fan-fiction and horrible plays and boring poems...because they're one of the few things that still make me feel like a real person.

Well, it seems moi has overslept just a wee bit--no thanks to the rugrat teens upstairs again..these kids need to get themselves a REAL job, then they'd be too damned tired to be bouncing off the walls (and my ceiling) like a bunch of ten year olds on crack, 'till 1 or 2 O'clock in the morning.

There's sometimes a lot to be said for hard physical labour, ha-ha, especially when it keeps the yobbos quiet.

Nasty day out there, today. It's wavering between heavy rain and ice pellets. Oh joy. And, I have to bustle out to do the laundry--and walk there, 'cos I'm so broke, I can't even afford bus fare. Then, I have to come back home and bake a pie.

Yes, a pie. Today's our annual pathtetic office do for the Thanksgiving holiday. This is where my cheap chav office--rather than actually putting on a buffet themselves---has a "pot luck" where people in the office bring in things to eat--including a roast turkety, if they can get some sucker to do it. Last year I made Waldorf (apple) salad with smoked turkey, raisins and dried cranberries, this year I'm doing a peach crumb pie. Thank god I remembered to leave the butter out overnight to soften, to make the "crumble" topping, or I'd be screwed. One year I forgot--and the butter was hard as a rock, so I had to skip the crumb pie, and just make it a regular one...wasn't the same, alas.

So, during our TEN MINUTE break, we all have to bustle into this tiny little conference room--think 30 people trying to crowd into a windowless room that barely holds one big conference table that seats 15 or so people, all trying to serve themselves from the hodgepodge of food on offer--and pour themselves soda, as well---rushing back to their cubicles and trying to wolf down their supper--all in TEN minutes. My employers are such chav misers, it's pathetic.

That's why we are forced to work no more than 39 1/2 hours a week--40 hours (in New York state) would make us full-timers, and they'd HAVE to, by law, give us benefits, such as sick pay/sick days, overtime pay, holidays/holiday pay, health care insurance, etc. As yet, the US government has yet to enact protective legislation for part-time workers...the US govt. does love to kiss big businesses arse, don't ya' know. It's a wonder they're not engaged.

Oh yeah, they flipped the car maker's the bird, but are throwing billions more of our hard-earned money a Citigroup. Great. Sure, Citigroup has 300,000 some odd employees, but if the car maker's fail, millions, world-wide, could potentially lose their jobs, and then the economy--especially local economy's--would crash and burn for real. God, these politiicians are thick. A bank shouts "help!" once, and the US government, sends out the marines, the navy and the lifeboats...you or me, we scream repeatedly for help, the US government goes "Ey? What's that?" and just lets us drown.

The post man passed me by this morning. No bills then...or junk mail, or letters. I can just see me now, when I'm old and past it, sitting in the lounge of some nursing home, saying, "Oh yeah? Well, I was so poor, I didn't even get any junk mail!"

Yep, tagged again.

1a. Describe your outfit.

salt and pepper colour heavy cotton socks, my posh Cosmo jeans with the embroidery up the outside calves, blue plaid cotton shirt--same one in my bebo pic a the bottom of this page. my eyeglasses...no, not doing the underwear thing, use your imaginations...then again, maybe not.

2a. Are you listening to music?

Yup. The Proclaimers again.

b. Was This Intentional?

NOt really. I just got tired of the silence and turned on the player, without bothering to change the CD.

3a. Describe the objects within arms reach.

Japanese paperweight, computer monitor and harddrive, headset with mic, speakers, Dr Who soundtrack CD, cat brush, mum picture, spur clock, mouse pad with a Friesan horse on it, mouse, bottle of water, about 20 books.

b. Randomly choose one object and tell where you aquired it.

Since my right hand is resting on it, the mouse pad. I bought it in 2003, from Walker's Farm Home and Tack store, in Fort Ann, NY.

4a. What room are you in?

Living room.

b. To What extent is it yours?

Some rich guy Australian chav owns the building, so technically it's his. Otherwise, I'm the only one who lives here, so it's all mind--well, and the three cats, they think they own it, as well. Wish they did, think of the money I'd save by not paying rent. I wish this place wasn't mine, I HATE it here!

5a. Did you decorate this room yourself?

Well, I don't know if you call what I did, "decorating," but yeah, I put things where I liked them.

5a. Briefly describe the furniture in the room:

Used desk, used desk chair, bookcase purchased new from Walmarts, used glider rocker, small antique oak dresser, antique green bookcase, reproduction faux wood stand, step stool to get out through the balcony window, antique straightback chair, art deco radio stand turned book case, used octogonal end table with green marble top, antique Victorian side chair, used 3 tier faux wood corner knick-knack shelf, locally hand made rustic wood Adirondack stand, with red fox motif, small antique folding Adirondack camp chair.

A very competitive David Tennant, resents a rival for the girl's attention:
"Oh, shut yer hole, Fred, you're not sexilicious enough for the lass. Now, what were ye' sayin' about ma' hottie hair, young lady?"

ABOVE: view from the top of the office building, facing south--downtown (high street).

I heard a former security guard in my building today, tell of hauntings in our office building. This is the same ultra-modern office building that was built in the early 70's, mind you. But, I'm told it was built on the site of a former funeral home.

I've heard a couple of people talk about doors mysteriously opening and shutting on them. I myself got on the elevator one day, pressed the button, the doors began to close--then they opened again..yet, no one was there, and the buttons in the hall to summon the lift, were dark...very strange. People on the 9th floor, working after hours late at night, have reported seeing a man and a little boy roaming the halls.

Hauntings, or just imagination? Having seen a ghost, I leave my mind open on the subject...my thoughts on hauntings swing both ways...mostly tho', I'm pretty sure there are spirits, or echos, or time shifts or whatever you wish to call them. What they are, I don't think we'll ever know, so I just accept them, and move on.

Well, looks like we might have a white turkey-day this Thursday. It's snowing now. Here it is, I look out, the road's over covered in the white stuff, the snow's coming down fast and heavy...just a dusting so far, not even half and inch yet, and I'd not even noticed!

I was sitting here, grooving to The Proclaimers, thinking my own thoughts--sitting mind you, less than ten feet away from my enormous front windows, and the big sliding glass window that leads out to the balcony--you think I'd bloomin' notice that the tree out front was getting white, or that the noise of the passing cars was suddenly getting muffled?

So, we're supposed to get snow, rain and freezing rain all day tomorrow, some more snow on Wednesday and Thursday...our national holiday.

Well, the fate of my electric and gas service is in limbo for the next 24 hours or so. I have to go back to the social worker's office tomorrow, to see what their go-between at National Grid can do for me....I think, from past experience, MAYBE what will happen, is that they will cancel my budget agreement, demand the whole 500 to 1000 I owe. (I'm STILL paying off the bill from 2006, when my furnace died when it was 10 below zero outside, and the only heat I had was one little electric fire, which used up one hell of a lot of electricity, for a wee appliance!) anyway, NG will then send me a dissconnect notice, and then I go back to the social worker, and they apply for an emergency HEAP benefit...and then I reapply for the budget plan, and we're back to normal.

Or, none of the above, and I'm just screwed.

I say I owe between 500 and 1000, 'cos I've not looked lately--well, if you had my income, would you want to see that? Well, anyway, I pay the same amount 12 months a year, on the budget plan, which is far better for me, 'cos before that, it was mad, trying to come up with a monthly budget---one month the bill might be 70 dollars, and WHAM! The next month the bill might be over 300 bloomin' dollars! When you are on a low income, living quite literally from paycheck to paycheck...well, I have to tell you that sort of thing is definitely going to give you some sleepless nights.

So, wait and see at the moment.

I'll tell you what though, I'm so incredibly knackered now. Just took my temperature and I've a fever again. Lovely. Week 8, this is. God, I miss being 19. I could have brochitis, arthritis and a sprained ankle, and not turn a hair, just keep on going. Hell, even when I was 30, I was mucking stalls with sciatica in my back! Now, I get a blooming cold and it knocks me out and makes me feel like I'm ready for a bath chair. I'm telling you, you hit 45 and it's all downhill from there.

So, since the social worker for New York State Office of the Aging, who helps me out 'cos I'm disabled---I only have a few grey hairs, I'm not quite there yet---, well since their office is at the other end of the hallway from my telemarketing office, I decided to go in for a couple of hours, make up some time for my day off. They put me on collections--which is my favourite..not 'cos I like telling people to cough up or else, actually I try real hard to be kind, which is usually productive.

I have to admit though. Some collections--or rather pre-collections, which is what we really are doing--have a little button on screen that you click on, "refuse to pay"--which only means that they get booted to the real collection agency, after we've had a go and failed. Well, it's really kind of petty I suppose, but sometimes, when I get a genuine arsehole from the hunting club or whatever, it is such a small, rather delicious pleasure, to click that little button--down the rubbish shoot you go, you stinking redneck bastard! You think I'm annoying, wait'll the REAL collections people start ringing you ten times a day--and they're from India, so just you try to understand what they're saying, Rambo!

No, I like it 'cos for one, I don't have to really sell anything--I hate selling, truth to tell--and also, it's got a much shorter script, so your not out there, beating a dead horse, flogging something for 5 or even ten minutes, rattling off all the advantages of the product. With collections, it's just: Hello, this is who I am, you owe this money, will you pay it today, oh you can/can't? well...yadda, yadda, yadda. Short, sweet and to the point, love those kinds of scripts...it's a hell of a lot easier on your voice, as well...and of course, a lot less pressue. The pressure to sell is enormous, and if you go a few hours without a sell, it can make you feel like rubbish. My businnes doesn't really do pep talks--in fact, what they usually call "training," is pretty laughable--just shove a new script into your hands, read it through once, and then jump on the phones and go do it...which is fine. I love a new script...well, anyone would, who has to say the same damned intermiable script, over and over every single day, for hours on end.

So, I've just made myself the most marvelous dinner of a hodgepodge tuna casserole that I threw together--I had a box of instant macaroni and cheese, and to it I added some tuna-fish, sour cream, a little milk, cream cheese, a little onion powder, some thawed frozen peas, and a dash of worcestershire sauce, mixed it together, heated it through and.... Yummy! Probably sounds disgusting to most of you, but I'd not eaten hardly a thing all day, so it was a meal fit for a queen, to me.

I've an idea for a new 10 minute play, germinating in my brain, that I've been making mental notes for all week--it's a serious play. I really prefer writing funny stuff (tho' nothing I've written is ever probably all that funny, really)... comedy is a joy for me to write, even if I don't have much talent in that area.

I came to realize that I've never once really dug deep and pulled out some of this angst that's inside me, and used it for dramatic purposes--and, maybe, like my not being able to do that with acting, maybe I'm just not able to open my own Pandora's box, period, not even in writing. But, I sort of would like to give it a go--I've tried once before, a horrible short play called, I think, "the boardwalk," which I posted on my misc. blog, but, I'm afraid I'm merely a very shallow and simplistic writer, and there are no great stories inside me, waiting to be written...and certainly they'll never be any plays, not ever.

And, and this weekend, I'm going to try and work on an unfinished Dr Who story, called, "Numbered Days," that's on my wordpress blog...so hopefully that will keep me busy. Really, that's really my only reason that I have left inside me, to continue writing--for my own pleasure.

Okay...something smells "phishy," here. I was just about to book back on out of here, and decided to do a quick check of my e-mail...this was in there, with only "hello playwrite27" as the greeting"

Good Evening,

We like your blog, and if you would have an interest in participating in our programme, please send forward us the link(s) to your blog(s), along with your contact information, age, and if possible, a photograph of yourself, to the address listed below:

I Googled the man's name, and the name of his "production group"--and nothing. Google has never heard of the company...of course, Gerald Harris has proved to be an extremely common name...AND, it did come to my spam box, instead of my in-box, so everything tells me this is a phsishing scam.

Common sense also tells me they wouldn't contact me in this manner--and, it just sounds incredibly bogus--I mean, who would watch a show like that?

And the wording--"please send forward us?" That screams "SCAM," if you ask me...and even if you don't ask me.

So, beware, bloggers, there seems to be a whole new scam in town, of late.

I swear my life is like a really bad TV sit-com.

I went to the office about my potential shut off...accidentally picked up last month's bill---which, incidentally, shouldn't matter, cos' it's exactly indentical to this month's bill, only with a different due day--same amount due, same day, same everything--just a differnt month. But, told I had to have the current bill, so had to slog back home and rumage around for it in the drawer--wasn't there, tried not to panic...finally found it in the pocket of my other jacket...which is why I probably paid the wrong bill in the first place, I put the Natl. Grid bill in my other winter jacket.

Anyway, I'm home for a quick rest--my heart's beating like crazy and my chest hurts...not a heart attack, just side effects of the anemia/high blood pressure. It happens.

I was told to try to see if I could get an emergency loan from Salvation Army--but you have to make an appointment, apparently--and no openings for two weeks, lol.

I don't have enough minutes on my pnone, to ring up my sister for a temorary loan until Friday--but, even if she had it to spare, she'd probably have no way to get it to me, as she lives a good three hour drive away.

I don't know...I'm really having doubts about my ability to cope on my own, these days. Maybe I really should just give up everything and become instutionalized...my second-worst nightmare, but at least I wouldn't have the constant worry all the time, about being homeless or losing more stuff from my life. Maybe I wouldn't hate myself so much, if I wasn't always fucking up, all the time. I really don't know...it's something I'll have to think very seriously about.

The cats are here with me...sleeping. The love winter, they sleep next to the radiators...they hate being cold, these three, despite the fur. Spoiled indoor cats. They won't like not having their heat.

I've been brushing Flame and Charlie, and they do enjoy it---Boots, meh, not so much. He's funny about that--loves to cuddle and play and be snuggled and petted, but try to brush him, and he's outta' there. Flame adores brushing, she closes her eyes in absolute rapture, and Charlie likes it when I brush out end of his back, cos' he's simply too fat to reach it very well, and he's shedding something awful, and I think he likes being rid of that extra hair.

It's grey and dreary here, but slightly warmer, in the low 30's F, so not so bad. No snow or rain yet, that's been pushed back until tomorrow. Fine by me.

Someone asked me the other day, why I didn't rent myself a new laptop computer--right. If I can't afford 20 dollars a week to rent a sofa--which I need more than a laptop, how could I afford 100 dollars a month for a new computer? People must think that because I work part time while on disability, that I must be rolling in it. NO. All that disability cheqe did was change my income status from below poverty level, to the upper levels of poverty. Sheesh.

Well, have to go out again. I was going to grab some lunch, but my stomach is so in knots from worry, that I couldn't eat if I tried.

If I had one wish for the holidays, it was for a nice, quiet, normal uneventful one...well, Santa sent me some poo again this year, instead...forth year in a row, must be some kind of record.

Someone on another website just messaged me that she saw David Tennant in London--whether she means today or a year ago, she didn't say. Well, the man's a human being, I'm sure he has to go outside once in a while...do his shopping, eat out, take in a play, get sloshed in a pub, use the gent's to do a poo...just like everyone else...what's the big deal? Ah well, that's what he gets paid the big pounds to put up with, I reckon.

I've never...

Been snogged
used a blackberry
used an i-pod
texted anyone
used a laptop
watched American Idol, x-factor, big brother, lost, heroes, survivor, or pretty much anything else that's currently popular on televison--Dr Who excepted, of course.
ridden a donkey
smoked a cigareete--tho' I tried chewing tobacco on a dare once..bleh.
smoked pot or did drugs
gotten drunk--tipsy once or twice, but never full-blown snockered
never had my nails done
been in love
been to the west coast
met any of my current friends in person
owned a horse
worn fur
owned a diamond
ridden in a Rolls Royce
gone to a nightclub
been asked out on a date by a celebrity
done the tango
had the urge to own an HD or wide-screen TV
shot an animal...or a human
spoken my gran's native Polish
figured out my mum's genealogy papers
found out who our mysterous "MacLeod" ancestor is
caught a really big fish
been to a tropical island
seen Hadrian's wall or any other sights in the UK
gotten a speeding ticket
fluently spoken a foreign language
been able to draw
been able to figure out why people think David Tennant is sexy
learned read or play music very well
balanced my check book properly
gone downhill skiing (ironcially, I could ride horse, but mum wouldn't allow me to ski)
gone skin diving
seen a sonic screwdriver up close
been to a proms concert
seen panto
tried blood pudding, bangers and mash or toad in the hole
played the bagpipes
met the Queen or the President
eaten sushi
written professionally
been a vegetarian
been a radio presenter
did or bought something only because it was trendy
met David Tennant
blogged about body odor (yet)
had hard liquour (outside of a splash of peach brandy on some pancakes once, and some creme de menthe on vanilla ice cream)

I have...

petted a leopard
beem bitten by a (harmless) snake
been chased by a moose
run over by a horse
ridden a camel
ridden a horse in the dunes above the Spynx in the moonlight
gone whitewater rafting
sailed a Friesan sailboat (for about 5 min.)
had a soak in Iceland's Blue Lagoon
Been to the Metropolotin Museum of Art, the Cario Museum and the Rijksmuseum
Toured the Anne Frank house
Saw King Tutt
Been inside newly discovered Egyptian tombs that were closed to the public
danced with a belly dancer
danced in a conga line
danced the Virgina Reel
been a bridesmaid
been a parade "queen"
acted on stage a couple times
ran sound effects once
hung up the phone on Al Pachino once
had pets all my life
worked one of my two dream jobs for about a year, once (stablehand)
signed off my mum's life support
been evicted
been homeless for a month
graduated from 2 year college
got a culinary arts diploma
a high school diploma
a associate of arts diploma
written for the college newspaper
wrote, directed and recorded a 20 min. radio play in college
interviewed four international Elvis impersonators
interviewed an alpaca breeder
hit a deer with my car once
been in three traffic accidents in my life time
operated a dump truck, bucket loader, bulldozer and backhoe
run a chainsaw
used a log splitter
gone to the opera
gone to the symphony
been to a Beach Boys concert
attended an art gallery opening
participated in a poetry reading
played a female Jerry Springer once, in a skit
fallen into a manure spreader
bitten bitten on the bottom by a pony
won the trifecta at Aqueduct three times in one year (pick the 1st 3 finishers correctly)
attended the funerals of friends
climbed an apple tree
snowshoed in the woods at midnight
given my last dollar to a homeless person
passed my driving test the first time
ridden a ski lift and skier's gondola
hiked to the top of a mountain
worked in a casino
run amusement park rides
sat in Dr Who's car
Touched a Tardis console
been to the circus
watched a wild west show
eaten haggis
met a former presidentaial candidate
Had comedian Steve Martin stop, smile and wave at me once, when I was merely standing on a street corner, with no one else about

BUCKET LOADER

My local blog stalker from "Corinth" is back again.

You know, on here, I've written a lot of boring dross and stupid rubbish...and also some deeply personal stuff, at times.

Now, I don't mind so much, bearing my soul to my friends--or, to total strangers, 'cos I know friends are understanding, and, with one exception, the total strangers have never stalked me or tried to find out more about me, so it's fine.

Yet, when someone that casually knows me--say, someone from the office, or someone that just knows me from knocking about the area--someone who is very much not a friend, or even an acquaintance, when someone like that starts snooping into my private life...I do find that quite upsetting.

Maybe it's because I know they're not reading it because they care or are concerned about me. To my mind, they are snooping into my private life, because either their own lives are so dull, they need to read about my problems to feel good about themselves...or, they just are using my living, my life, my existance, as cheap entertainment. I don't like that.

Mind you, I really can't complain, 'cos no one made me blog. And, it has been a good outlet for me. But, when I see that person from Corinth or Lake Luzerne stalking my blog every night--a person whom has made no effort to contact me, it genuinely makes me sad. I'm still a loser. All my life, especially during my childhood, people picked on me, and made fun of me, and hurt me--for nothing more than their own self-gratification.

This nutjob from Lake Luzerne or Corinth doesn't give a damn about me, she (or he) is being nosy for some twisted reason of her (or his) own. I don't have any friends here--a few acquaintences, but no actual friends...and when I see someone doing that to me, I know I am right to stay by myself.

I am justified in keeping to myself. As hard as it is to be coninually alone, to have virtually no physical human contact--sometimes for days, if I'm ill or something and can't get out--I know that's for the best. I'd rather be alone, than deal with any more pain.

Tagged yet again...a two-parter, no less.

PART I: You must list one fact about yourself beginning with each letter of your middle name.

Battery charging, I learned how to charge a car battery when I was 19 years old.
Everytime one of my cat sneezes, I say "bless."
Tomaotes...I hate fresh tomatoes.
Horses--they have been a love of mine, since I was wee, and I don't know why.

PART II:

1~ One secret about yourself

I literally cannot do things backwards withiout some difficultiy, like simple subtraction or backing up a vehicle.

2~ One compliment

Good sense of humour

3~ One non-compliment

I can be a bit untidy, at times..okay, sometimes I'm a slob.

4~ One love note you have thought of, or actually have written

Erm--never have done that, actually.

5~ Lyrics to a song

Na-na-na-na, Na-na-na-na, hey-hey-hey, goodbye.

6~ How old you are

48

7~ How many friends where you live

Zero--all my friends are through the internet and/or post, and I've never met any of them.

8~ And a hint to who you are

Just some fat, ugly broad who works part-time in a telemarketing office in a small city 170 some odd miles north of New York City.

9~ Who would you most like to be friends with?

Anyone who is open-minded, won't be embarrased by me, and whom has a decent sense of humour..and, if he or she happens to like Dr Who, that's a big plus, as well.

It may or may not be a decent day for me. That's because today I have to literally go begging. I still am a little upset with myself about paying the wrong bill--I mean, this is the equivilent, of me forgetting to pay my rent, or, forgetting to show up for work, or to...whatever.

It has certainly erroded my confindence in myself--most especially in regards to my being able to take care of myself, all on my own.

So, I have to go to the office of the aging--whom also sometimes handles issues for people with disabilities. If they can't assist me, I will have to get on a bus to the county offices--a long trip to Lake George, that could conceivably take all day, as the social service office is in an outlying area---this is typical of most rural counties, they deliberately put offices for poor people away from populated areas--easily accesed by foot, bus or cab. You see, my theory is that's to discourage them from going there for help...though really, it's probably more likely to be the mindless ignornace of rich councilmen, than anything. Anyway, the buses to the county offices don't run all that regularly, only once every couple of hours. Anyway, this promises to be a long day.

If I can't get help...well, I'll be dark and cold for the holidays, no hope for it. I hate Christmas. Every year, I try to like Christmas again, and every year something bad--or several somethings--happens. I don't guess I'm ever going to have a truly happy Christmas, ever again....but hell, I would like an uneventful one, just for once. I guess I'm right to turn away beliving in God...I mean, I really have lost the point in believing in anything, any longer...most especially myself.

Actor David (Doctor Who, Hamlet) Tennant is slated to guest star in the BBC's latest reality programme, next year. The show, called, "Streaking," dares two celebrity contestants to bare all, as they race around an obsticle course in the nude, while trying to cover up their most private parts. The first contestant to show off his or her "naughty bits," loses. The winner gets 100 pounds for his or her favourite charity, a 30 day supply of Rude Dudes bubble gum, and a package or male or female pants of their (ahem) choice.

Tennant's fellow contestant is slated to be Kinga "the Minger" Karolczak. Says Tennant of his invitation to be a contestant, "I'm looking forward to tits. Erm--it, I mean I'm looking for to it. No, really..."

When I was around 13 years old, my dad bought my sister a ten-speed bike from the local Sears department store. That was about the time that sis got pregnant, so needless to say, she never got 'round to using it, much. Even after she'd given up the baby, sis started roaming...took up with some truck driver and hitchhiked all over hither and yon. Actually, from the time I was 15 or so, I never saw my sister much, just every now and then...still don't for that matter. Haven't been face-to-face with sis, since New Year's day, 2006.

Me, I never got a ten-speed bike. In fact, after I grew out of my little red bike, around the age of 11 or so, my parents never bought me another. So, it fell to me to appropriate sis's bike from her. She wasn't happy about it--heaven knows why, 'cos she never used it.

God, I loved that bike. It was white, had the old inward curving handle bars, with the front and rear hand brakes and gear changer on them....it was a boy's bike--why, dad bought her a boy's bike, I've no idea, unless he'd gotten a good deal on it...which is actually probably more likely, than not. Thing is, being a boy's bike, it had that bar over the top..and, it was too tall for me, so much so, that anytime I stopped the bike, I had to physically lean to one side, so my foot could touch the ground.

In the summer of 1975--the year I FINALLY left my common school--ten years after mum first trundled me off on the kindergarten bus--I'd graduated from 8th grade in June, a class of 43 students, the biggest ever for that school...and was going to be starting high school, some 17 miles from home, with a in-coming freshman class size of...500+. I was going from my village school of some 300 or so students, to a big high school in another town, with around 3000 students...I was excited and nervous that summer, and jubilant to be finally free of the familar--and often dreaded...and going off to a new beginning, my first real adventure.

I don't remember a lot about the summer of 1975. I remember riding up to the lake and hanging out at the beach, going fishing and rowing. I remember going to the bowling alley, and going with my dad when he went on sales calls out in the country. I remember listening to the radio constantly--besides my love of top 40 hits, I'd recently discovered John Denver--who was at the height of his popularity at that time. I remember mum giving me a pair of Bushnell binoculars and somewhere I got a "Guide to North American Wildlife"--which became my bible for birdwatching for nearly 30 years (sadly, this book mysteriously vanished during my move here--I was crushed by its loss). So began my lifelong love affair with nature, that summer. And, I remember watching a lot of old Wild, Wild West re-runs on television..not sure why.

But, above all else, I remember riding that ten-speed bike...every single day. Up and down our street, into the woods, over the fields, into the village...everywhere. That bike was my magic carpet, my trusty steed, my cockpit. I daresay, if I'd known about Dr Who back then, I might even add that it was my Tardis.

At least some of you have seen the things people can do with mountain bikes...well, long before there was any such thing as a mountain bike, I was doing those things on my slim ten-speed. I was barreling up and down hills, over rutted paths, in the forest and fields. I thought I could go anywhere, do anything on that bike. I thought I could fly. I was like a god--but...later that summer, I'd prove myself to be more like a ten-speed Icarius.

After watching an episode of Wild, Wild West, and before dinner time, I would go ride "my" bike up and down the street. And, sure enough, the show was over, I coasted down the drive--our drive was slightly uphill--and into the street...only, something was wrong. I distinctly remember my shock, when I saw my right handbrake come loose, and swing into the spokes of my bike. I distinctly remember thinking hard that I'd be OK if I could just drive onto the neighbour's lawn, that was across the street from our house. That was the last thing I remember, until I woke up on my back, with a mouthful of blood.

Dazed, confused, I was scared half out of my wits...most especially when I came to enough, to realize that my bike was way across the street--I mean, I really DID do an Icarius...from where the bike ended up, to where I ended up, diagonally across the road, nearly 30 feet away!

A neighour lady had come rushing over. She ordered me to lay still, gave me a damp flannel to put against my bleeding lip--reassuring me that it was just my lip that was bleeding. She'd already rung up the local volunteer ambuance EMT's, and then she'd run over two doors down to our house, to tell dad--mum was working at the library that night.

Now, how I'd ended up on my back, when I'd clearly landed on my face, to this day is a bit of a puzzler to me. I reckon I was dazed and must have rolled over, before I'd completely regained my senses.

Anyway, dad comes rushing over, and stands there wittering to the neighbour lady...god forbid he should come and sit by me, right? But, that was the way my dad was, I'm afraid.

Well, asking dad to handle an emergency, is like asking someone who's terrified of spiders, to walk into a nest of black widows. In other words, dad wasn't famous for being cool in a crisis. Even as I lay on a stretcher in the hallway of Albany Medical Center's ER, I asked dad (well, as well as i was able to ask him, with my upper left lip sliced open) if he'd called mum and told her I was going to be alright (at that point they'd already X-ray'd me, and determined my skull wasn't damaged...no bike helmets back then). But, dad just dithered with the neighbour lady, who was one of the ambulance volunteers, and she'd come along later in her car, to give dad and me a ride home...I finally had to ask HER to ring up my mum...who I knew would be worried about me.

Got seven stitches in my lip--no anastetic so yes, it hurt. And, three in my eyebrow near--with anestetic, a chipped tooth and a big lump near my left temple with a possible mild concussion. What did dad do, the day after I got my stitches? Took us out for pizza--my favourite food on the planet, even back then. Do you KNOW how hard it is to eat pizza (or much of anything that isn't liquid), with you upper left lip in stitches? Oh well, dad's heart was in the right place, even if he's brain wasn't.

The bike was taken into the garage, where it sat until dad finally took it to the dump. It was a total loss--the front wheel was wrenched so badly, that it bent the front frame--well, I really was tearing along when I crashed. Sis wasn't worried about me though. When she'd found out about the accident, all she said was, "it my bike alright?" Even to this day, sis is STILL mad about the bike...I kid you not, she mentioned it to me last time I saw her...sis does hold a grudge, let me tell you.

I didn't get another bike for another 20 years. In 1995, I bought an old 1950's one-speed girl's bike...and about 1 year later, had another accident as I was riding over a rail crossing.

Third time's the charm though...dad bought me a mountain bike as a Christmas gift in 2002. I spent the summer riding it from my caravan in the trailer park, the mile up the road to the town beach on Lake Luzerne, and into town to the library and grocery store, and down to nearby Forth Lake, to the general store there. I later had to sell the bike though, when it developed a problem and I couldn't afford to fix it, cos' my car broke down as well. I miss it, though. This ten speed Icarius still longs to fly.

I'm getting massively spammed by Nowlin Jewelry...and others. This site is currently under CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION. STAY AWAY!

Do NOT click on any jewelry links spammed into your comments! These people are NOT selling jewelry--they are STEALING your personal information.

Avoid jewelry spammers and NOWLIN JEWELRY at all costs! Consider yourself warned.

Oh goody, another new reality programme---about dancing. Oh, now there's a new concept.

Yeah, some guy involved with American Idol plans on doing a new series, called, "Dance!" or some such rubbish. It's allegedly going to be like an olympics competition for dancers....North American and international dancers come and compete in the name of their country...singly, in pairs, etc.

yadda-yadda-yadda. Well, it's cheaper than putting on a variety show, and easier as well, 'cos in a proper variety programme, you would have to actually use your brains and and come up with original ideas, and funny skits and stuff, I suppose.

Here's an idea: "Dance, Pardner!" A reality programme where some yobbo walks up to people on the street and gives them a choice of doing a dance routine or being shot.

Remember your childhood refridgerator art? Well, I never quite grew out of it. I did actually take a college art class once--more to get enough credits for my financial aid requirement, than for any actual practical applications--and, I suppose, for my own enrichment, as well. But, truth to tell, whether it's the DCD, the dyscalculia or that I simply cannot draw--my "refrigerator art" hasn't changed much, in the last 35 or so years.

Hmmm--rather embarrassing, that.

You see, I just discovered the "whiteboard" on Bebo. Really cool stuff. (click on pictures)

http://www.bebo.com/WhiteBoardThread.jsp?WhiteBoardTopicId=8192582126&MemberId=8176305651

http://www.bebo.com/WhiteBoardThread.jsp?WhiteBoardTopicId=8194158105&MemberId=8176305651

I mean, I was just thinking about this--here's a guy, whom by all accounts, was offered the equivilent of 3 million dollars to stay on the job--and he turns it down!

I've never made more than $16,000 dollars a year in my life time--and that was 20 years ago--I've lost so much, and gone hungry and lived in the cold, and am under constant worry of one thing going wrong, and becoming homeless...and Tennant is so well-off, that he can turn down a bloomin' $3 million...it's almost impossible for me to fathom.

There's a man who is one lucky son of a gun, to never have to worry about anything "real," or to ever know hardship. I hope he never has to play a homeless man--think of the irnoy! And, he wouldn't have a clue, no matter how many homeless or poor people he interviewed...anyone who turns down that much money, really obviously never can.

This man can look like a homeless person--but he'll never be able to wrap his mind around the reality of it.

I'm going to take a moment to air one of my pet peeves, this morning. I hope you will forgive me indulging myself.

As some of you know, among other things, I battle with bi-polar disorder..pretty much on my own. My several requests to the health center for treatment, have gone pretty much ignored...plus, even if I could get it, I more often than not, cannot afford it...just the cab fare alone can run anywhere from 8 to 12 dollars, round trip--on top of a 20 dollar or more, co-pay...and I am very much on a low-income...I do partially fall into poverty guidelines for a single person--they wouldn't give me food stamps if I didn't, trust me. Six or ten dollars to me, would be basically like 60 or a 100 dollars to most of you, no exaggeratin.

Someone rather pointlessly wrote me the other day, that I "need to get therapy and medications." DOH. No shit Sherlock. But this is the same person who cannot gasp that I CANNOT AFFORD therapy and medications! This is the same person who is against people like me getting the medical help they need, because ONE person might not be able to get a needed bone marrow transplant--bullshit. THOUSANDS of Americans, every single day of the year, in every state, right here, and right now--many with cancer--cannot get the treatment they need, because they CAN'T AFFORD it...because we DON'T have free health care, like Canada, England, and other CIVILIZED nations. Over 46 million Americans go without a doctor, every single day in this country--and the TRUE reason they can't get help...is selfish greed on the part of their fellow Americans.

These so-called "enlightened" people hide their guilt behind STUPID excuses that free health care will be inadequate, or whatever. But, these are all, each and every one, people who HAVE health care. They've never in their pampered lives, ever had to literally suffer pain or illness, with no recourse--none, zero, nada--no help, for no other reason than there was no money to pay for tests, hospital care, etc. So, Americans like me get sick, we stay depressed, we die...all because of some selfish, ignorant and greedy people, who don't think my life, and the lives of nearly 50 million others, is worth them losing their cushy private insurance plans. THAT'S what it's about, not some mewling whinge about people not getting bone marrow transplants--it's about the whingers losing their own well-provided for health care...the old, "I've got mine, to hell with everyone else."

Sorry, it really makes me hate my country, sometimes, the selfish, ignorant bubble that many so-called "enlightened" Americans needlessly clothe themselves in...a bubble so flimsy and transparent, that cannot see it from the inside--it's only us genuinely suffering "outsiders," who are on the receiving end of their continuted reistance, that can.

Well, here it is, nearly noon time on my side of the Big Pond, and I've only been up an hour. I hate oversleeping, but had only had 4 hours sleep Friday, and last night, my hillbilly neighbours were celebrating Thanksgiving early--which for them, apparently, means roast turkey and several 24 packs of beer. "Oi!" I wanted to yell, "Stop trying to get the damned dog to sing!" For Christ's sake, it was blinking midnight, and they're all yelling--well, they always yell, that's their nomal mode of conversation, for some reason---to the dog, "sing, you bastard, come on!" F_ck. At least the teens upstairs quit early last night, there's that to be thankful for, at least.

I finally couldn't keep my eye open, and went to bed at 1am or so...their mean elderly dog was still howling and barking, and they were still laughing...and banging on something metal, not sure I want to know what the hell that was about....hillbillies. You know, I've been told by a southern transplant, a woman from South Carolina, that she sees more genuine, honest-to-god hillbillies up her in the mountains of New York, than she ever saw down south? And, I do believe her. I had genuine in-bred hillbillies living in my apartment building, in the small rural mill town I lived in, for my first five years up here. I'm not joking about the in-bred part, either...it's not a put-down, but a real fact. There's about two or three promenent familes up here in the Adirondacks, whom are actually known to be in-bred...a local college even did a research study on them. In fact, one family even has a hamlet in the mountains named after them, because they were practically the only one's who lived there, way back when--tho' they've spread out to other towns, now, hence my encounters with them.

In fact, celebrites like coming here (in the off-season especailly, when most of the tourists have gone home), because, unless he or she is a country music star or a famous race car driver, no one knows them. British and other foreign celebrites, who want to be left alone, should come here--but, they'd probably get their egos hurt, when no one pays any attention to them, ha-ha.

Yeah, from November to April, this place is dead as a doornail--well, except for the ski areas, like West Mountain (a mile or two outside this city where I'm at, is a ski mountain), and the bigger ski resorts: Gore resort, which is up the road about 20 or 25 so miles, in North Creek, and Whiteface in Lake Placid--home of two winter olympic games. Then there's the snowmobiler's, the ice fishermen--big, big boast for the local economy, for some rural towns-- and skaters, cross-country skiers and winter hikers, ice climbers and dog sledders, horseback riders and snowshoers...and shoppers...lots of shoppers, what with the million dollar big brand name outlet shops in Lake George, drawing in Canadian, New York City and European shoppers.

Yet, we certainly don't get the millions of tourists in winter, that we do from the end of May until mid-October. And, I've known of several major celebrites (John Travolta just to name one), come here, even live here, and pretty much no one pays them any mind, as long as they don't make a nuisence of themselves--which one or two have, and were essentially shown the door by the locals, and told not to let it hit them on their way out. Adirondackers can be very stoic about celebrites...they would be more impressed with you, if you said you'd shot an 8-point buck at 500 yards, than if you turned up in a limo, surrounded by a mob of papparizzi.

Anwyway, I'd every intention of going into work today--but my sore throat and congested chest are giving me doubts. Friday, my throat hurt so bad, I had to split my shift in half, because at the end of my first two hours, I was in so much agony, I dont' think I would have cared if a bus had run me down in the street. I still have an hour to decide. I also have to consider that I have no clean clothes to wear, after today, and, that I have to run around like a loon tomorrow, trying--I'd even say "praying," if I still believed in prayer--that my stupidity of paying the wrong bill, won't literally leave me in the cold and dark, for Christmas.

I'm trying real hard not to think about that.

I also need to seriously tidy the house...after eight weeks of fighting, first the flu...which became mild pneumonia, then getting this head cold, a week ago...well, the apartment looks a wee...yuck. I've been so knackered, I've just been doing the bare basics..and only half-arsed at that. I'd like to have a lovely, tidy apartment for the holidays, but if I have to run around like a loon when I'm not feeling my best...that's just not going to happen. I don't mind being alone, most of the time--but when I'm sick, or my mandic-depression gets the better of me (especially the depression part), I really do miss having someone here, to help me out a little. Maybe if I'd had someone, I wouldn't have paid the wrong bill, and not been in this stinking mess with National f'ing Grid.

Well, can't live on "maybe's" or "somedays," can we? I'm on my own, and that's that.

When I'd gone to see a local Adirondack mountain theatre company do "The Real Inspector Hound," and "Black Comedy" back to back, back in september, little did I know that I was seeing the results of something isnpired by the very play David Tennant had done.

In the programme, the director mentions that he took his inspiration for doing these two works, directly from Gregory Doran's lead. At the time I read it, I was vaugely aware that this was the same director who was working with Tennant, Patrick Stewart and the rest of the cast of Hamlet, as well as directing Tennant in Loves Labour's Lost.

However, until tonight, I never realized that Tennant himself was in the very play which inspired the production which was put on, in this little backwater city in northern New York state. Small world, ey? Not that knowing that, would have changed anything in regards as to how I viewed the play--tho', I suppose, in hindsight, had I known, I might have found myself trying to picture Tennant in one of the roles (because it's just so enthralling to see him dive into his characters), onstage, and that would have been pretty bad, as it would have taken my focus away from the story and the actors--who were all wonderful, by the way.

I was so overjoyed at being in a theater again, you have no idea. I hadn't been to a play--or any sort of performance, in about five years, so yes, it was a genuine joy, for me. And a great coupling of the two plays--Gregory Doran knew what he was about, I do have to agree with that.

That's how many people have kidney disease in the United States today--that's six million more than just ten years ago...or about 13 percent of the present population of the USA.

Our kidney's serve an important function. They purify our blood, keep our bones and tissues healthy and, help to keep our blood pressure at a normal level.

Normally, most of us have two kidneys--fist-size organs found in our back, below the ribcage.

Most kidney disease is helped along by diabetes and high blood pressure--which is what makes me such a prime candiate for the illness, as I have both issues, at the present time. Women prone to urinary tract infections, should also have their kidney's tested, periodically

Anyone, at any age whatsoever, can develop kidney disease. If your kidneys cease to function, you have only two options: go on dialysis, or get a kidney transplant.

The kidneys filter around 200 liters of our blood, every single day. When they stop working, all the bad stuff in our blood, stays there...which would kill us, eventually, without the assistance of a dialysis machine.

What is dialysis?

This is where a patient lays down on a reclining chair, and is hooked up to a dialysis machine. This machine does the work that the kidneys normally would do. It pumps the blood out of the patient, filters it through the machine--removing waste, salt and extra water. It also maintains a safe level of chemicals in the blood, such as potassium and sodium. Regular dialysis also helps to control blood pressure, as well. The machine does all this, and then pumps the blood back into the patient again. The average time for this is roughly 3 hours, give or take an hour or two.

Patients often have to go for treatment three times a week. Dialysis is done either in hospital, or, as with my mum, inside a special treatment centre, just for kidney patients. Wherever they go, the nursing staff are always attentive to patient's needs, and patients are kept as comfortable as possilbe, often with access to a televison and/or reading matierals, and someone to see to their needs, such as getting them some coffee or water. Yet, with the advent of new medical technology, dialysis can also be done at home, by the patient, whom is carefully trained and monitored by medical staff.

Some of the effects of this disease on patients include: vomiting, nausea, loss of bodily functions/control, diaarrea, loss of appetite, severe weakness or dizziness.

People most at risk for developing kidney failure, include people who have a family history of the disease (such as myself), and also people who have high blood pressure and/or diabetes.

Kidney disease isn't always fatal. Some kinds of acute kidney failure get better after treatment. In some cases of acute kidney failure, dialysis may only be needed for a short time until the kidneys get better.

However, for those who have chronic kidney failure, the outlook is much more grim:

In chronic or end stage kidney failure, your kidneys do not get better and you will need dialysis for the rest of your life. If your doctor says you are a candidate, you may choose to be placed on a waiting list for a new kidney.

But, this disease is preventable, in many cases. By drinking plenty of water each day, carefully monitoring your blood pressure, trying to make heathy food choices, and exercising regularly, you have a much better chance of never developing this disease.

Of course, there are extenuating circumstances, such as being born with on enlarged kidney, like my mum was. Though mum sometimes had high blood pressure, she didn't have diabetes.

Other problems that can develop in your kidneys, include: kidney stones, urinary tract infections, kidney cancer and prostate cancer. If you have a family history of any of these diseases, tell your doctor.

Some causes of kidney cancer can be:

smoking, obesity, occupational hazards--such as exposure on the job to certain types of chemicals--some types of radiation therapy and long-term dialysis treatment.

For more information in the USA, go to the National Kidney Foundations website: http://www.kidney.org/

In the UK, visit the website of the UK's National Kidney Federation: http://www.kidney.org.uk/

Dialysis machine in use on a patient:

"I'm tellin' you officer, the fan-girls ripped the clothes right off'a ma' body, and then, when they saw you, they all ran away! That was awful...I was kinda' hopin' they'd hang around for a while."

Another party night in my aprtment building, and sleep shall likely elude me again. I won't likely get to "sleep in" until MAYBE Tuesday morning.

Anyway, I'm quite upset over the prospect of another December with massive worries weighing me down--this time, not illness, or a lay off--but, like last year, I worry about having my electric and gas shut off...National Grid has more and more of late, turned into a bit of a monster, about that. And this cold can literally kill you...not that I've not slept in the cold before. Many's the morning I've poked my head out from the covers, able to see my own breath inside my bedroom. You do get used to it.

Still, I dream of a holiday without cares and worries...dont' suppose I'll ever be blessed with that again. Well, I don't really belive in Christmas any longer, any road. Really, I'm just going through the motions...but it is nice to have lights on, because I still haven't fully adjusted to being alone on that particular holiday, I suppose.

But, tonight, I have to come to grips with the fact that there's naught I can do, until Monday morning. It's not going to be a peaceful, nor restful week, leading up to Thanksgiving...but at least I'm warm for now, have food on my table, my cats to love me, and my friends far away, who so kindly have kept me in their thoughts, though all the rubbish and the few good times, as well, bless. So, I reckon it's churlish of me to complain, is it not? And, I won't any more...at least, not for the rest of the weekend...not even about these bloomin' noisy neighbours--the drunken hillbilly's across the hall (the one's who shout, even when they're speaking normally), and the drunken teenagers and their barbie-girls upstairs over my head--no, no complaints for the rest of the weekend. I won't say I'll be thinking good thoughts...'cos I'd be hard pressed to do so, but, I will say that I will being thinking of nicer things: my friends, Dr Who, and happy memories of holidays past.

Bad Southern Piano music on a Saturday night:

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?

French dark hot chocolate, that you make with milk, not the instant "Swiss Miss" crap, that tastes like watered down chemicals.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
Wrap them!

"Santa" used to very cafeully wrap those puppies and put them under the tree on Christmas eve morning.

Now...it's just me and the cats, so why bother? I just give the cats their prezzies--tho' this year they get a stocking again, after a few years without one.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?

A mix of all blue lights and all white.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

No, I think there's a rule that old maid's have to stay away from mistletoe.

5. When do you put your decorations up?

Around the first week of December, usually--tho' last year didn't do it until a few days before. Back when mum was alive, I wasn't allow to do it, until the weekend after Thanksgiving, at the very earliest. Mum had a thing for jumping the Christmas starting gun.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish?

We never had anything specific for Christmas day dinner, unless company was coming over--which was quite rare...then we'd have either baked ham (gammon) or roast turkey. In later years, when mum moved in with me, if it was just the two of us, I usually made roast chicken with my homemade sage and onion stuffing, which mum liked, or maybe I'd make a couple of glazed roast cornish hens, instead. Our big thing was to go to a local Greek diner for late supper, after church on Christmas eve...that was quite enjoyable.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child?

Gosh, I'm not sure. Probably the year I thought I was going to get my first two-wheel bike, and it wasn't there, and I was sooo-disappointed...and then mum told me to sit down and she would check the garage, to see if Santa left it there, and bustled into the kitchen and out the kitchen door to the garage--and sure enough, with a big grin on her face, she wheeled that little red bike through from the kitchen into the living room, a few minutes later. I so rarely was given genuine surprises--this was totally out of character for my family, my dad and sis not being real big fans of the holiday--so yeah, it is a rather special memory for me.

But, I suppose I also love remembering sitting on the floor by the tree, ripping open the packages--oh, what a delicious feeling that truly was!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

What do you mean? Don't tell me that you believe in that whole "Santa's not real," myth! He is, too! So there.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Yes, we began opening one gift at midnight at some point in my youth--think it was my late teens--but somehow, by the time I was in my 30's we'd open our prezzies after we'd got home from church/the diner, and had sat down to some eggnog or hot chocolate, and then about an hour later, opened the prezzies--all but one, which was saved for Christmas morning.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree?

Very carefully. That's a mum thing, again. She used to "direct" me--a bit off-putting, truth to tell, 'cos mum had this totally infuriating habit of waiting 'till I'd got up off the floor, or got away from an awkward position--like adjusting the tree stand, or decorating the back of the tree--to tell me that the tree was crooked, or that I had a bare spot...teeth gritted, I would thank her politely and just get the whole bloomin' thing over with. Oh, and LOVED it, when I'd just finished stringing the stinking lights, and she'd say..."oh, you've got some bulbs out..." Grrr. Thanks, mum.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?
Love it, adore it, snow on Christmas eve? Fantastic.

12. Can you ice skate?

Can you stick your head up your bottom and still whistle "Dixie?" Well, I couldn't skate, either...not even with those dorky "special" double-bladed trainer skates, when mum took us skating at Little's Lakem up the hill from our house.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
Yes, as a surprise, my parents up and decided that I could have a used western saddle for my 16th Christmas present, AND a pair of snowshoes. Dad got a good bonus that year...the stable up the road only had English (hunt seat) saddles, so to take western lessons, I had to have my own saddle. We went to a local ranch that hired out horses, and picked out a junky old saddle for, I think, 50 dollars--it wasn't anything much, but it was good enough for me. I was thrilled. I was overjoyed to get the snowshoes, as well--even if they were cheap dorky plastic one's and not real wooden snowshoes...mum got me real one's the next Christmas. I got not one, but two things I desperately wanted that year...cool.

14. What’s the most important thing about the Holidays for you?

Well, now that I spend holidays alone, I just want a holiday with no massive issues...no worries about having my electric/gas shut off, or being evicted from my apartment, or laid off work, for the new year. I may have just done to myself again, this weekend...we'll see.

Used to be, for me, the most important thing, was spending Christmas eve and/or Christmas Day with my mum and/or my family.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?

I really don't have one...we never had any "special" treats for christmas, in my home.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Used to be, going to church Christmas eve, supper at a diner, then sitting in the living room, in the light of the tree, listening to carols on the radio or record player, and talking and drinking eggnog or whatever, until the time came to open our gifts.

I no longer have any "traditons."

17. What tops your tree?

A cheezy little angel from Family Dollar

18.Which do you prefer giving or Receiving?

Oh gosh, I used to be so into giving people prezzies, that was the BEST!

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?

I don't know. I used to be such a sap for singing carols--not anymore, though. That said, I like Coventry Carol or O' Come, O' Come Emmunel, relgiously, and Sleigh Ride and Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer, secularly speaking. Now? meh.

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?

Depends on the candy cane--love the new flavoured one's..especially the Life Saver variet...yum!

21. Hypothetically speaking, you have an uncle (or aunt) who are stinking rich. They ask you to give them a wish list for this Christmas with six items on it. You can ask for anything at all, as long as it's only for yourself. What are you going to wish for?

NOTE: This is just hypothetical, of course. I don't actually have a "wish list," this year.

1. a pair of long johns (thermal underwear)

2. Something to do with Dr Who

3. Something horsey

4. a phone card

5. a model train set

6. a gift certificate to Borders

22. What's Your Last Favorite Holiday Memory?

Christmas of 2003, dad, mum and I, went to my sister's erm--rustic, caravan in the vermont woods (she was with a different partner, back then), and for the first time in over 2 decades, we had a family Christmas all together. It was to be my second-to-last-Christmas with my dad, and mum followed him nearly 2 years later...so, a very special Christmas memory--it was our first in over 20 years, and sadly, our very last "family" Christmas.

I have to do Google images, 'cos I don't have a clue how to transfer pics from Flicker...it's taking forever to come up on my screen.

The questions:
1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you attend?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. One word to describe you?
12. Your Flickr name?

1. Erm...okay. I put in my full name...and came up with a pic of a cousin's dog...alriiigty, then.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

or:

or:

8.

9.

or

10.

11.

12 (blog name, since I don't do flicker)

Note to self: buy thermal underwear pants, ASAP!

I'm telling you, it's just not my day...if I still believed in Him, I might even childishly mutter that God must really hate me. I get out of the store, wheel my trolley as close to the bus shelter as I can (heavy bags, you see), lift them out of the trolley, get almost to the bus stop---and yes, the bus came barrelling by, without stopping. Damn. And, the temperature was dropping and the wind was blowing harder...this is the bus that has to go all the way downtown, and all the way back up to the suburbs, again--a trip of about 30 to 45 minutes, depending on traffic and how many stops it makes.

After a 20 minute wait standing in the cold, I finally bit the bullet and rang up a cab--which costs 4 dollars more than the bus--and after paying that (wrong) bill yesterday, and buying the remainder of my week's grocery shopping...plus an extra pair of gloves, a scarf and a bar of Yardley lavender soap from the $1 store, I had only 15 dollars left, until next pay day. That hurt my wallet a wee bit, that cab fare---but my bad foot was aching something terrible, and I only just could feel my legs--I was dressed warm enough from the waist up, but only had a pair of jeans on, and my legs were getting number and number by the second...and I still have this blasted cold, as well.

Decided that $4 was a small price to pay for being able to feel my legs again, and not getting double pnuemonia, in the bargain.

I've been home about 20 minutes...and the bus that I would have taken, only now has just gone by...so, those of you that are blessed to have either a car, or good public transport...don't go whinging at me about the price of gas/petrol. You won't have a very sympathetic ear, I'm afraid.

After such a crappy day, I trudged home to my late lunch, only to find a nice surprise waiting for me. One of my friends sent me an early Christmas present of a Jack Black DVD set! I love Jack Black films, so I'm so delighted...there's even one I'd never heard of, called "Orange County," so I am doubly delighted to have a totally new film to watch. I'm sure it'll be great.

Well, grabbed a quick sandwich of deli sliced chicken breast on an onion roll (with Russian salad dressing) and some potato chips (crisps), and now must book out of here to the store, to get things I wasn't able to get, yesterday. Not looking forward to standing around waiting for a bus, though. It's FREEZING out there--and when I say I'm cold, that's says a lot, 'cos I usually don't mind the cold at all, and actually would rather be cold, than hot, generally. But...OMG.

Even tho' it's not actually cold, by northeastern New York standards--25 F (minus 4 C), there's a stiff arctic wind behind it...and brother, THAT's colder than hell. The windchill is minus 8 C...about 18 degrees...yet I swear it feels more like 8 F, when that wind's blowing in your face!

I've just realized that I am aging. You know, I've worked outside all day in killer (a literal word here) windchilss of minus 60 F, and didn't think a thing of it...not that I didn't whinge a wee bit about it, mind you. Now, I'm whinging about a bloomin' mere 18 F windchill? Oh yeah, bring on the bath chair and the walker.

Another thing I just thought of...whover came up with the expression of "cold as hell," anyway? Isn't that just a tad of an oxymoron?

Well, no doubt in my mind, that, should there actually be such a place, reckon I'll be seeing it some day--matter of fact, I'm planning on building a beach house on the lake of fire.

DIRTY DOZEN BRASS BAND, FROM NEW ORLEANS, LA:

This weekend totally blows. I just got my first complaint in two years. Some bitch was upset 'cos we'd called her house twice in the same day--after she'd told us her hubby wasn't home....probably one of these dim snarky broads who are asked when a good time to call is, and say, "I don't know," and THEN get upset when we call back later in the day.

Unfortunately, Sarah Palin is the poster woman for middle class American women everywhere.

For instance, I just called some woman in Minnesota, hubby wasn't home, so I asked "Is there a good time when we can reach him?" Response: "No." Oh, that was an well-thought out answer, that, sweetheart. Give that a lot of thought, did you?

Anyway, Mrs. Pitbull was screaming in my ear and making demands faster than I could answer them, and all I did--after repeatedly trying to tell her that I was attempting to fix the issue--which she ignored. I tried to ask her not to please not be so confrontational (she really was screaming) and stop to let me answer her questions for her--well, my fault, partially I suppose. I should have put the phone on hold, move the phone away from my ear--enough so I can hear the noise, but not so close than I can actually h hear her actual words...and just let the pig with lipstick squeal her head off at will...and waited for her to run out of breath. It's what I sometimes have to do.

But, I've been getting screamed and yelled at by people for the last 4 hours--half a dozen of them, merely a wrong number--and by the way, morons, if you just say, "Sorry, wrong number," it would save us both a lot of time--I DO NOT need the War and Peace version of WHY it's a wrong number, okay? So button it, and get over yourselves! Anyway, enough is enough. I WANTED to help the woman, but she obviously didn't WANT my help, she just hadn't had any sex lately, and needed to take her sexual frustrations out on someone. At least, that's what I like to think, anyway.

Human beings totally suck sometimes, you know that (friends excepted)

Gosh, was I right or what, this morning? These people are miserable gits today.

And, idiots--oh wait, they're always idiots, sorry.

Nothing brings out those warm, compassionate, considerate feelings in Americans, like a national holiday giving thanks to God, followed a month later, by a national holiday celebrating the birth of the Prince of Peace...NOT.

You'd think, after a childhood of getting continually getting picked on at school...for being fat/ugly, after years of verbal and emotional abuse, I'd get used to total strangers treating me like rubbish...I need a lot thicker skin...or maybe just give in already, and stop thinking of myself as a human being, lol.

Another reason to become an athiest--if we're made after "His" image...what's that say about God?

So,

I'm on the phone, trying to sell stuff, and I get this gal on the phone, and all she will say to me, is, "No talky, no talky."--with the requisite giggling in the background, which makes it blatantly obvious that it's some teenage prat fooling around on the phone...well, it could be the mum, these days it's sometimes getting difficult to tell who is the parent, and who is the child.

Anyway, the caller would have been suspect, anyway, 'cos I was calling Nebraska.

I mean, what immigrant would come to America, and say, "I want go to Nebraska!"

I mean, it's like someone from Beverly Hills, wanting to move to Three Mile Island (the town that's host to nuclear reactor plant that sprung a serious leak years ago).

Nebraska? Not buying that, thanks.

That would be like me saying I'm dying to live in Milton Kenyes or something.

I don't flippin' believe this. Just got a message that "maybe David can help." That's David Tennant the actor, this person is referring to, not my cousin Dave, whom I've not seen in nearly 30 years.

I mean, I really don't know the man, he doesn't know me, and WHY would the man care, for pity's sake? He's an actor, not Dr Who. From what I've been told, he drives a Toyota, not a Tardis.

What's he gonna' do? Send me an autographed post card that says, "Sorry you're a loser, cheers, David Tennant"? Riiight.

It's nice this young person (God, I hope it's a kid) thought enough of me to write me, but come on. Reality check: The man lives a life that is totally opposite of mine, 3000+ miles away, and has no connection with me, whatsoever. And really, even if we were next door neighbours, why would the gentleman care?

Geez....thanks for the thought, anyway, I suppose. But, this is my problem, leave the wee man out of it. I just write crap about him on my blog, I really, really really don't know the guy, promise. the David Tennant's of the world wouldn't give someone like me, the time of day, I don't care how nice they are supposed to be.

This is a nice interview with David Tennant, where he discusses the "Einstein and Eddington" film he'd done last year, and, his preperation for his role of Hamlet, which is really interesting.

In this interview, I must say that Mr. Tennant sounds very relaxed and content with his life, which is nice. I hope that's true. This is part one, of a two-part interview.

I'm knackered, I'm sick in body and heart this morning. I've had little sleep, thanks to the partying teens over my head last night, thumping and banging on my celing until half-past two in the morning. Besides the return of my cold, I'm sick inside, with the knowledge that I forgot this important bill, like it never exisited.

I feel like I should just give up on myself, this morning. I'm not going to make it, in this life, I'm just not. I Probably need to put the cats to sleep, get rid of my stuff, and ask the government to section me, and put me in a home somewhere, since I can't seem to take care of myself--it's my second-worst nightmare, second only to my being homeless, but maybe it's my destiny...because certainly, every time I think I've got a firm grip on living a "normal" life, life turns around and bites me my face off.

. That's what's been running through my mind since I woke up this morning. I'm sure my parents, were they still alive, would be ashamed of me. I haven't stopped crying.

I've got another stinking cold, I've less than 4 hours sleep--two nights in a row, I don't get any days off this week, until Thrusday, due to the national holiday, so I can't get a day to chill out. I have to work 4 1/2 hours on the phones today--and it's Saturday, so I KNOW the so-called human beings I'll be ringing up across America, will be nasty little puke heads...I wish I wasn't here. I wish I wasn't me. I wish the earth would just swallow me up and be done with it.

Still, nothing I can do. I can't even try to fix this--if it is fixible, until MOnday morning--I just have to suffer through the weekend.

I was looking forward to having--for the first time in years--a fairly worry-free Christmas. Certainly, as per the norm for me of late, it would be another financially tight Christmas--I shake my head when I hear people grousing this year about a "tight" Christmas spending season--it's been that way for me, for the past 3 years, so I just sigh when I hear people complaining about this year. We never stop to realize how lucky we are, do we? I mean, I wasn't always poor--I've had Christmases where I was able to buy everyone at least one or two nice gifts, and have a nicely decorated home and stuff. And I do appreciate that I at least had that, in the past...but some people don't, sadly.

That's how I am trying to keep my sanity--remembering that it wasn't always like this...and knowing that at some point in my life, I did have good things happen to me...and even tho' times seem dark, there once was light...yes, I don't belive in my ever having light again..but the memory of those shining moments leaves me grateful...because I know, somewhere on earth, someone hasn't had what I'd had, back when.

So, I don't want to, I'm so depressed that I long to just stay in bed all day...but I have to have breakfast and stumble off to my cubicle at the communication firm where I work, and slog through half a day of calling people to sell them crap they probably neither want or need.

I can't think of a title for this post.

How do I feel, right now?

Angry with myself for being such a scatter-brain, frustrated that I seem to be losing control of my every day daily life--stuff you lot take for granted and probably don't even think much about, I'm having a harder and harder time coping with...don't feel like explaining that, right now, sorry.

Lost, I feel very lost, as well. And, alone, helpless.

I feel stupid--I HATE it when I feel stupid. I don't have the highest IQ out there, tho' most of the time I try to ignore that fact...some days it's just too bloomin' obvious.

I'm a very negative person, these days. No wonder no one here wants to pal around with me. I imagine it would be like being mates with Victor Meldrew or Ebenezer Scrooge (before Christmas morning), or Jack the priest from Father Ted. Or, maybe all three...only I really don't care for the taste of floor polish, so maybe not jack the priest.

I feel like I'm caught in a deep gooey hole of black muck, and it's pulling me down--but only by milimeters--to a bottomless, very dark place.

And you know the worst part? I don't think I really care, any longer.

The only thing that keeps me going, is the caring of a few friends (none of whom I've actually ever met in person), and my 3 cats.

I've lost so much of what makes me...me--my home, my parents, my cat Red, my education/future, big chunk of my possessions, part of my freedom..and even, in a tiny way, I even genuinely feel the loss of the Dr Who, who sustained me through so many crises these past two or so--though I really don't take it personally, I am taking it more to heart than what's probably good for me.

Certainly, I've been struggling to move on--but anyone can say, "you have to get on with your life," 'cos--they aren't going through this, are they? What the hell do they know? Most people who tell me this, have money to spare to find other outlets to occupy them--or a good career or SOMETHING. They have friends right there, or family support, or SOME kind of normalcy in their lives...they can get out and go places amd be with other people...I don't have that. I may never have that, again, truth to tell, and well I know it, too.

At this point, all I can do is put my head down and try to avoid getting so shell-shocked by life, that I begin to see death as a permanant holiday away from a living hell. There really ARE worse things than dying, ya'know. I'm just glad none of you (I hope) will ever have to learn that.

At this time in my life, all I can do is go to bed at night, wake up in the morning, and pray life doesn't beat me up again. I try not to dwell too much on my past--other than for theraputic reasons or story-telling. I have NO future. My future is dead...even if I could kick-start my will to go for my dreams again..I just no longer have the heart or the spirit or the energy to even try. In fact, some days, even blogging or writing some Who-fic, is a mighty effort.

Well, who cares...I'm nobody. I'm one person in billions. I've never contributed to society, no one needs me for anything, and never will anyone pound on my door, wanting me to be with them or work for them or whatever. I'm a fallen leaf in a mountain-sized pile, ready to be swept away by the leaf blower of life.

I'm living a nightmare, tonight. I paid the wrong f'ing bill!!!!

My utility bills---it's due on Monday, and I just paid the wrong fucking bill!!! now I don't have the $85 dollars for my bill--which is on the budget plan--if I don't pay the budget plan on time--I HAVE to pay the WHOLE thing--OVER $1000!

OH F-U-C-K.

Thank God I'm not feeling suicidal...but I'm not far from it. Now I'm going to have my electricity shut off. National Grid are the bigggest bastards on the planet--if you are literally even 1 second late, all bets are off.

I've been so sick with this damn flu, and so exhausted--the little brats upstairs are drunk and literally running around like a bunch of toddlers on speed--in some cases, literally running, banging the furniture, with their stinking giggly barbie doll girl friends egging them on. I mean it's been thump-thump-bang-thump-giggle-giggle--thump-thump-crash-bang, all f'ing night! It's nearly two am, and the wee yobbos are still at it! I'm exhauted and I'm sick and sleep is out of the question...and I have to pay 625 a month for this shit, next month--plus utilities, mind you.

I can't move--I don't have the $1500 or so dollars it would cost--someone at work today, asked me why I didn't buy a laptop...right. Why don't I just by a yacht and a rolls royce while I'm at it, as well?

I can try to go to the social services office on Monday--why does this crap always happen on a weekend. I CAN'T believe I paid the wrong stinking bill--I paid my $50 internet bill, instead of the $85 electric bill--I am such a LOSER.

I wish I had someone to help me look after myself, sometimes, it's not easy being alone and being bi-polar. I can't get any treatment for it, and I don't have anyone around anymore, to give me gentle reminders--"don't forget to pay the electric/gas bill..."

Now, with record cold temps forecasted for this winter (so much for global warming), I may not have and lights, heat, or cooking gas.

I really do--serously--envy my dead mother, sometimes. At least she's free of all this rubbish, and has some peace...I just have to wait to die, already. I hate me, so much, it's not funny.

Oh, and I'm not writing this to beg for help or anything, honest, I'm really not...I'm just venting...I'll get out of this mess, somehow...or if not, maybe I can buy some camping lanterns and a kerosene heater, and eat non-perishable food.

Seven things, ey?

1. I once was roaming an 80 year old dumping ground, looking for antique bottles, when I lifted up a cast iron boiler--and found a glass egg right underneath it...the milk glass kind they used to use to encourage hens to lay. That, always has amazed me.

2. I had to lip snyc Handel's Messiah during a school concert once, 'cos I had an ear infection and couldn't hear a bloomin' thing.

3. My dad told me back in the early 90's, that the boy who grew up next door to us--and whom I had once been quite close to, had died, by casually shoving the newspaper article about it at me, saying, "here, read this."

4. I once was tied to a tree when I was quite young (in a game of cowboy/outlaw), by a woman who now works as a personal asistant in the Hollywood film industry, and whose name has appeared on the credits of such films as Total Recall, Die Hard with a Vengence, I Spy, Tombstone and Street Kings.

5. I taught myself to ride a bike, all on my own.

6. My first acting role in college was in a 10 minute play called, "Watermelon Boats."

7. My first live concert that I ever went to, was a Cowsill's concert (whom the early 70's television series, "The Partridge Family" was based on), at the Chatham Fair in 1969. They were a family band from Newport, Rhode Island.

I remember them singing this song:

I tag seven people who read this, whom actually want to be tagged and do one of these meme things.

I was reading about environmental issues in my part of the world: PCB's (a likely carcinogen spewed into the upper Hudson River by General Electric, pre-1960's, an oil that has migrated out of the river, through the rock and soil--sometimes for miles, and into lakes, yards, even beneath people's homes. The ENTIRE town of Fort Edward, NY, on the Hudson River in the southern Adriondack mountain region, is polluted with PCB's and other hazardous waste...after 20 years of haggling by GE lawyers with the US Enviornmental Protection Agency (EPA) and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC), clean up of the river, from Fort Edward, around 50 miles to the dam at Troy,--just north of the capital city of Albany--is even now as I write this, underway. The dredging of contaminated riverbed will make the river usasble again, for fishing on a limited basis, in about 50 or 60 years..give or take a decade or so.

Yet, nothing whatsoever is being done, to clean the town. People cannot sell their homes, because of it--in fact, one of my supervisors whom lives there, hasn't paid her mortgage in years, and the bank has made no attempt to foreclose--THAT's how bad things are there. The rate for cancer--most especially leukemia, is said to be much higher than anywhere else in the region. This disease has hit not only adults, but local children as well--even babies. Yet, the state of New York does nothing.

Is a river more important than a human life? Which is more important, clean water, or a child getting to live a normal, healthy life?

I suppose the easy answer, is to say "both." But, what if we had to choose? What if we had to decide between a clean, safe water source for thousands--perhaps millions, even...and the life of a single child? How do you do that? I wish I had the answer, but...I'm an idiot, what do I know?

It used to be, two hundred or so years ago, man lived in concert with his surroundings--far more than we now could ever do so. Man depended on nature to feed him, clothe him, provide shelter and tools. He used wool from sheep, and grew cotton. He brought animals into the world, and slughtered them when their time had come. He cleared fields with stone boats, lifting each stone by hand--and often re-using them as fences..building the boundries of his farm, one stone at a time. There was no rush, those men back then, didn't keep banker's hours, no way. They were up before the sun, and worked sometimes by moonlight. They lived by their heads and their hands and their hearts--putting passion into everything they did...because it made them what they were. A man would look at a fence, a barn, a plowed field, and think, "this is me, this is who I am." The farmer, would see his own progress, and know that it was that way, solely because of his own desire to grow and make his mark on the world.

He built mills from wood and stone, using wooden pegs, beams and stone wheels, which he himself had fashioned with froe and saw, mallet and chisel...items he may well have made himself, from stuff he got from his own woods. He used those stones and pegs and beams, opened the sluce boxes that fed the water wheel that turned the stones, and made bread, feed and even the ink to write about his accomplishments--heck, even his quill pen came from nature!

These men set their lives in pace with the seasons--they had to. Yet, there were times, when they fell out of sync with nature. Most people come to these mountains where I live, and they positively marvel, at the countless millions of trees that stretch on for miles and miles. Yet, little do they know, that back in the 19th century, at the height of the industrial age, these mountains--whole mountains, mind you, were completely laid bare. Not a tree left on them. There's actually very few "old growth" trees left in the Adirondacks. They were taken away for use in paper mills, tanneries, making charcoal for iron furnaces...floated down the Hudson river by the tens of millions.

The men of the mountains, even into the 1930's, would start fires, as well. They would do it for the money, that the rangers paid them for putting out the fires.

And, in that way, I sometimes think, that things really haven't changed that much. Today, more people than ever are becoming more and more aware of the natural world around them--a world that shrinks more and more every day. We talk about carbon footprints, clean water, clean air, global warming...but, when was the last time, you lay down under a tree, with your head against the trunk, and looked up through the branches, listened to the wind, watched it playing with the leaves and branches?

When was the last time, you sat quietly, and simply listened to the circling of the life that is all around us: the wind and water and wood, the birds and animals--when was the last time, you were silent, and just let nature come inside you for a while?

Verbal IQ Test http://www.queendom.com/tests/access_page/index.htm?idRegTest=1120

The Verbal IQ Test assesses three major elements of verbal ability: your knowledge of vocabulary, your level of reading comprehension and your ability to understand the relationships between words. Verbal intelligence is a major part of one’s intellectual capacity. Although verbal skills make up only a fraction of what is known collectively as intelligence, this kind of ability tends to be quite useful in our society. Reading, writing, and speaking are heavily employed in our academic, social, personal, and professional lives. Verbal intelligence is reflected in the ability to express oneself in words as well as the ability to read, write, and interpret written and spoken language. Verbal skills are also essential tools for gaining knowledge on other subjects that have no direct relationship to verbal disciplines (math, physics, economics, and even raising pigeons).

Vocabulary I Q Test Results:

SubFacor IQ score = 137
Subscale percentile = 99

137

You appear to have a very extensive vocabulary. You know the meanings of most of the given terms, some of which are extremely advanced. Your excellent vocabulary can help you communicate and understand the written word.

Yeah, but it can't seem to lift me out of poverty and a dead-end life, so what the hell good is this?

1. When you were born, how much did you weigh?

I don't know, I was almost a month premature, so I was probably quite small.

2. What do you hear right now--and what would you like to hear?

I'm listening to "Africa" by Toto (great song!), and I'd love to hear the sound of a friend's voice...which I may, tonight or Sunday, hoo-ray!

3. If you had to choose between meat or cheese for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Then be specific.

Meat, 'cos I'm anemic--steak or prime rib, I reckon. Though, there's a lot to be said for a nice piece of smoked gouda or New York State extra-sharp cheddar.

I4. What, is your opinion, is the worst song ever?

It just came on Pandora---the Pina Colada Song...bleh.

5. Who was your favorite teacher growing up and why?

Oh, that's easy. My 5th grade teacher, Miss McDonough. She was the old-style, very personal teacher. We did some really neat stuff in her class: and excellent mixture of book learning and hands-on projects. Miss McDonough was one very cool teacher...except when she called me, "Nancy boo"...even after I grew up...that was a wee embarrassing. Mum thought it hilarious...thanks, mum, for the support.

She was the one that first turned me on to writing, and even when I became an adult, she was still pushing for me to become a writer, for some reason.

She passed--by then, having gotten married after retirement (there's hope for us old maid's)--anyway, she'd passed away about the same time as my mum, at the age of 98, and I shall always remember her fondly.

6. What personal activity, when performed in public, bothers you the most?

I'm old fashioned enough, that I don't like passionate snogging and groping right in front of my face--sorry, but...get a damned hotel room, already...find an elevator, the back seat of a car...anything...if you gotta' show it off, then maybe it's not as real as you think.

7. Ok, there's a $50 bill lying on the ground. You pick it up. Dumbfounded by your incredible luck, what do you selfishly purchase?

I wouldn't. It doesn't belong to me...it might belong to someone who needs it to pay the rent, or for food or medicine, or was going to spend it on their kids--true, it might also belong to some rich executive who will never miss it, or to a junkie or someone like that...still..after all the stuff I've been through, I just couldn't live with my guilt, if I did that, knowing what I know about the real world out there.

8. Do you have a recurring nightmare? If so, explain.

Yeah, two: A tornado dream and a dream where the place I'm living is on fire

9. Name one place on Earth you've never been, but vow to visit at least once, where would you go? Got a picture?

Mesa Verde...very cool place.

(Pictured: ancient cliff houses at Mesa Verde National Park, Arizona)

10. What are you going to do tonight?

Watch a Dr Who DVD, perhaps blog, maybe work on finishing that other unfinished Dr Who story on my wordpress fan-fic blog, perhaps talk to a friend overseas on Skype, if she's not too tired, maybe listen to some music, play some cribbage online---gosh, my Friday nights are exciting, are they not?

...to himself. Mr. Tennant admitted today, that his sex appeal is so strong, that he fell in love with himself, and feels that no other person could love David Tennant more, than David Tennant. The wedding will take place at an unspecified location this spring. We Hope that Mr. Tennant will have many happy years with himself.

I can just imagine the Google hits THIS post will get now...so, Tennant's okay looking, and yes, he's very talented and seems really nice and all that blather, but...I still don't get what women see in this guy...what am I missing? I've seen nude photos of the bloke...and his peeli walli-ness (God, I love Glaswegan!) was enough to make me finish going blind. Blimey, he's one very white and skinny dude! Ghandi wasn't that thin!

Well, it's afternoon for me. I'm sitting here, blogging in-between sneezes. I was forced to spilt my shift in half, because of this bloomin' sore throat...after two hours of talking this morning, I was finding myself wishing some insane republican redneck postal worker would burst into the office and just shoot me already.

So, I took some throat spray, and numbed that sucker. Went and did a little shopping, paid a bill, had a burger at the diner near the grocery store...now, I'm sitting here bloging and whinging about spammers--love a good rant, don't you? Makes you feel so much better---that's why I don't need booze, people. I can rant on my blog and just let all the poo out of my system, don't need to drink...well, need to drink whenever Sarah Palin gives an interview...but that's another issue altogether.

So, now in a very few short minutes, I have to slog back to work and do the rest of my time--god, that does sound a wee bit like I'm out on parole, doesn't it? And, maybe I am.

Cheers all.

I'm getting pretty fed up. I HATE having to mod my comments, and it's bad enough that I am literally forced to do so, but NOW, some spammer has somehow slipped through the cracks, and spammed me anyway (on "Roasting David Tennant"), even tho' my settings were in fact, set to 'MODERATE' comments on that blog--I went in and double checked, and yes, the setting is correct...so how the blazes did that spammer manage to slip through?

I'm sooo-glad I changed my mind about going pro. I was tempted to do so, early in the summer, but decided it was too much of a hassle to go out and buy a pre-paid credit card and all that.

I can't complain over much about spamming 'cos I'm not a paid member...but, that said, I have two other blogs on two other sites, and have ZERO issues with spammers on one site (that has askmet), and maybe only one or two spams a year, on the other blog site. BCUK has been infected, and I hope they work their bottoms off to find a solution soon, 'cos these spammers are making a real pain in the arse of themselves!

I know spammers are everywhere, and are not going to go away, because of the people who encourage these scumbags, by either stupidly visiting the sites advertised, or, almost as bad, ignoring them (they WON'T go away if you do that, people), rather than taking a couple of minutes to send BCUK an e-mail reporting them--so they can be blocked!

I mean, if you have time to blog, you have time to copy and paste the IP address of the spammer (from the post or your e-mail) and go to the BCUK home page, click on "contact us" and fill out the form with the infor--less than five minutes of your time, in most cases--five minutes to help rid the blog of a spammer. Don't be a do-nothing jobsworth, MAKE the time to fight spam!

I have to book out to work, in about 10 min. Tried to eat, but tho' I am actually hungry, my stomach has rejected my breakfast--my spicy Spanish dinner last night, probably didn't help much--I like chorizo sausage, but it doesn't always like me.

So, I'll likely be famished by the time 1 o'clock rolls around...can't even go home for lunch, but have to go cash my pay check, and get cat food and stuff...pie crust and cinnamon, 'cos I'm baking a peach crumb pie for the Thanksgiving holiday office do, on Tuesday. They have it Tuesday, 'cos some people are out on Wednesday, as they leave a day early to travel to family for America's big once a year feast day.

I wonder, do atheists celebrate Thanksgiving, and if they do, who to they give thanks, to?

Anyhow, I also have to go to the post office, if I can make the time, to post something to a friend--I'd posted it two Fridays ago...having weighed for correct postage--but apparently I was a wee short on the postage, and the post office sent the package back. So, gotta' try again. (sigh).

I was taking the time last night, to do a bit of editing on that Dr Who story I just finished, and noticed I'd make a bit of a continuity snafu..so I had to go back in to chapter 7 and fix it. It was really a stupid mistake--the aliens had one name in chapter one, and a different name in chapter seven--which I should have remembered to explain..but...forgot. So, I had to do a re-write of the entire first (albeit short) paragraph on Chapter seven. Good thing I don't write for a living. I'd never make the grade...or, I'd be making my copy editor pull his or her hair out.

Well, I'm off for a fun morning/afternoon of telemarketing. We've begun calling the UK for some new company that sells broadband service (I think), named something with an "a". Well, I say "we," not me. They don't let me do business to business calls unless they're desperate...hell, I don't even get trained for new programmes, any longer...just the same ol' shite...no promotions to B2B in my future...I'm office poo...need to find a REAL job, with a nice company.

I don't have real long to blog this am, so I'll try to keep this brief--well, it's a bit boring anyway, isn't it?

Well, as I'm writing this, the sun hasn't quite risen yet, over here. Looks like another clear, cold, sunny day though. It's currently 22 F, which according to Weather Underground is minus 5.4 C. It got down, apparently, to around minus 11 C, again last night. We're supposed to get a wee bit of snowstorm on Monday, with rain forecast for Tuesday--but you know those nutty weather forecasters, we might that, or nothing, or get two days of rain, or a full-blown blizzard, take your pick.

A David Tennant fan-girl whom I know from another website, told me her sex-god was going to be on Absolute radio this morning, between 9 and 10 am, UK time. She knows I sometimes listen to Absolute (formally known as Virgin--ha! a virgin listening to virgin...I used to think that funny...now I'm a non-drinker listening to vodka...not much of a joke in that, ey?)

Anyway, I was asked if I was going to tune in to the programme to hear David Tennant, talk about a TV film he'd shot last year, called Einstein and Eddington.

Erm--that would be a resounding no. Sorry. OK, which one of you would get up a four in the morning, to listen to some Scottish bloke talk about some film you're probably never going to see? Anyone?

Not you, fan-girls, put your hands down. We all know you'd walk through flaming treacle for the sight or sound of Mr. David sexilicious Tennant.

Oh God, did I just say the word, "sexilicious?" Well, great. Now everyone will think I'm...oh, never mind. I'm not, let me make that perfectly and most emphatically clear, ey?

Don't get me wrong, I think Tenant seems like a kind and intelligent-if not necessisarly mature--gentleman. He's very obviously a brilliant actor with huge potential to be one of the greats of our era, and certainly, the film sounds fascinating and enlightening.

But...no, sorry. Not at 4am, thanks.

Oh, I've gotten up at 4am before, for the following reasons:

To leave on a trip

To either get ready for, or to leave for, my job

To go hiking (rambling)

To go fishing or just rowing on the lake

To watch the sunrise (in late June)

To help mum get ready to go to dialysis

To feed horses (falls into the job category--under hard physical labour, but I never considered working with and around horses so much as a job, as a delight)

To help deliver kittens or puppies (why can't animals ever have babies in the daytime?)

To get ready for, or leave for, a flea market, when mum and I had our traveling Flea market stall, 20 years ago.

To finish an essay, mid-term paper, research paper, speech, feature article, press release, news script, play, etc...that was due for a class that very morning.

To memorize a stack of notes for an important college test

You'll note, fan-girls, that getting up at 4am to listen to David Tennant, isn't on the list, sorry.

Well, I've got to go have my porage, before dressing for work.

Speaking for work, we had a meeting last night. We're going back to assigned seating, and, the rug rats were told to cool it with the mobile phones in the office, and, to stop with the blasted bathing with, and spraying, perfume. Good news, there. Blimey! Last time someone did that, I still had pneumonia, and started choking while I was on the phone, 'cos I couldn't breathe.

So, kudos to our office manager. Even tho' she's never liked me (which has been really obvious for about 1 1/2 years now), and, she's a bit insecure and her manners aren't always the best--she can be very snippy and brusque at times...yet, she does work very hard, is passionate about her job--which I think is always a good thing, and deep down, I think she's actually a pretty nice person, so I never have taken her dislike of me, personally...makes me a bit sad, I suppose, that I bring this out in people, though.

Anyway, it's 8am, and I've still got to change into my work duds, and have that porage, so I will see you all tonight. Cheers.

God, I HATE this picture, I feel like I'm dressed in a tent by Omar.

In this testosterone filled episode, the Doctor and an anorak wanna' be, compare the size of their screwdrivers.

Yes, winter is upon us. And it can be ugly and brutal, where I live. Winter is nature's killer.

Spring is the time of birth and re-birth, the time of hope and promises.

Summer is the time of peace and growing...rain and sun work in harmony to sustain the grass, flowers, trees, farms.

Autumn is the season of promises fulfilled. Harvesting, new beginnings as (here where I live) children return to schools, it's a time of fleeting beauty, as crisp clear days shine in the sun, and mere trees become living works of art. Did you know, that those brillant reds, golds and yellows are ALWAYS there, in the trees--yet, it takes the encroaching bittersweet breath of winter, to make the colours reveal their true selves?

Winter is the dying time, the long sleep of nature.

Yet, it too, can be a living artwork. A new snow fall turns barren branches into living, intertwining vertical stands of lace. Pine trees laid down with a heavy blanket of snow become living castles of soft alabaster. Even a coating of ice, turns the delicate branches of bushes and shrubs into living examples of delicate crystal spider-webs, shining in the sun.

Then there's the silence. The snow covers the land in a blanket of quiet, that you never experience at any other time of the year, muffling all sounds. It's as if the earth were making the ever-present ticking of time's clock, plod slowly along, drawing out the season, until the sun decides that she will rise warm again.

I loved this song when it came out on the radio.

Pastamasta has done went and tagged me again, goldangit.

1. Where were you 3 hours ago? At work, sitting at a cubicle waiting for calls to come in.

2. Who are you in love with?

Myself. I'm just too adorable for words---not.

3. Have you ever eaten a crayon?

Erm--??? Well, I don't think so, but mum used to tell me that I used to bite the tails off the little plastic toy horses that came with my cowboy and indian sets.

4. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? There's some pink stones on the frame that hold's mum's photo of when she was 20, and there's some pink in the blossoms on a branch, that's part of the oil painting of a bluebird, over my desk. There's some pink print on one of the books on my bookshelf....my Get Smart and Lucy Show DVD's have pink on them...erm--that's about it, I think. I'm not really a pink sort of woman.

5. Show us a photo of a toy you had as a child.

I had this set as a child--I distinctly remember being down in the ditch next to our house, trying to float the canoe down the wee itty-bitty stream that flowed through it. I found out that the canoe only "floated" if you held it in the water yourself...the indians drowned, poor guys.

6. Are you wearing socks right now?

Yeah, they're black and have brown horse shoes on them, and the word "HORSES" printed on them as well.

7. Do you have a car worth over $2,000?

Nope, no car anymore--I've only owned two cars in my lifetime, worth over $2000.

8. When was the last time you drove out of town on a trip?

On my own, in a car? New Year's day, 2006, I drove the 3 hours to my sister's mountain top home near the Vermont-Massachusetts border...well, I did it in two...I'm such a lead-foot. (never had a speeding ticket though--damn, I'm good.)

I took a Trailways coach 15 miles to Saratoga Springs this past May...those are the only two trips "out of town" that I've taken since 2005.

9. What are you listening to, right now?

Elton singing "Rocket Man," on Pandora radio..which is ending and now "Send Her My Love" by Journey is playing/

10. Are you hot?

Are you kidding? It's 28 F (-2) out there! The apartment's fine, I'm comfy. Whoopsie, wrote too soon--as I was looking at it, the temp just dropped to 27 F.

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?

Diet Pepsi

12. What are you wearing right now?

Still in my office clothes, my posh black/gold/rose floral top, and black satiny trousers with gold/tan paisely/floral embroidery running up the outside legs, from ankle to knee.

13. How many pictures, decorative plates, framed awards, etc. on the walls of the room you're in?

2 decorative plates, 1 framed oil painting, 2 small framed floral prints, 3 framed antique horse prints, 1 3-D framed horse-motif wall hanging, my college diploma, an academic award from theater class, 2 family photos in a frame (grandpa with mum as a toddler, and my great-gran).

4. Last food that you ate?

Just finished a late supper of Chorizo sausage, tinned corn and Zatarain's Spanish rice.

15. Favourite song you've heard today?

Playing now--"Sailing" by Christopher Cross.

16. Have you bought any clothing items in the last two weeks?

A packet of underpants from the $1 store, and my first ever evening gown--that I'll probably never wear, 'cos I NEVER go anywhere...but damn, I'll look good vacuuming the rug.

17. When is the last time you ran?

Alas, since last year, it has become physically impossible for me to run (which rules out me ever being the Doctor's companion, darn it). Bascially, the closest I can approximate to a run, is a weird sort of fast hop.

18. What's the last sporting event you watched?

Women's golf at a local tavern this past summer, while I was waiting for my laundry to finish.

19. What if you could do any job you wanted, what would it be?

I would love doing voice work-though my voice has gotten a bit rubbish, with this protracted cold...or, of course, I'd love to write for a living, or...work with horses again--in any capacity, even behind a desk at a race track or something.

20. Your dream vacation?

Off on my own (or with a friend(s), somewhere cool, like Iceland, or the Scottish highlands, an island in the Medditerainian, or the Austrian Alps or something, where we could chill and also do "stuff"--like riding, sailing, whale watching, snowmobiling up a glacier, swimming in hot springs, take a scenic train ride, white water rafting, going to museums, resturants, concerts--and also just grabbing some down time and chilling with cold drinks and watch people and the sunsets...cool stuff. No package tours, and NO laying around on a beach--boring! bleh!

21. Last person's house you were in?

My neighbour across the hall--I gave her some food from my cupboards and some eggs, last night, 'cos neither the brother or sister work full time, and often don't have enough money for food at the end of the week, so sometimes I give them my left overs, or extra stuff I might have lying around in my fridge or freezer.

22. Worst injury you've ever had?

Last year--the g3 sprain/fracture of my foot. Did more than just lame me, it messed up my health, as well.

23. Have you been in love?

Nope, never.

24. Do you miss anyone right now?

Sure, my late mum and dad, my sister and nephew, my cat Red that I put to sleep two years ago, another cat named Jamie that died in the 80's, my dog Shamrock that I had in my teens and early 20's.

25. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?

I really don't care about that. I'm never going to have a partner, and I can't see wasting my life looking for somebody that simply doesn't exisit--no one is ever going to love me, and that's just the reality for some people in this life. It's not fair, but then, nothing whatsoever in this life is ever fair.

Read a headline in today's online paper, where stocks once again plummeted on Wall Street, because the unemployment stats took an UNEXPECTED rise...alriiighty, then.

Which begs me to ask, just what planet do these Wall Street finanical wizards hail from???

I'll let the smiliey's tell the rest of this story:

I was just getting ready to leave for a doctor's appointment, when the UPS man showed up with an early Christmas prezzie...a mic/headset for my computer!

Whoo-hoo! Now I can hear my friend's voices (on Skype) and don't have to rely on chat rooms any longer!

All my life, many a time much to my chagrin, I've been a wee absent-minded. Okay, let's just say it: my memory sucks.

Found this on the website listed below, found it to be fascinating reading:

HOW TO BUILD A MEMORY PALACE

Decide on a blueprint for your palace. While a memory palace can be a purely imagined place, it is easier to base it upon a place that exists in the real world and that you are familiar with. A basic palace could be your bedroom, for example. Larger memory palaces can be based on your house, a cathedral, a walk to the corner store, or your whole town. The larger or more detailed the real place, the more information you can store in the corresponding mental space.

Use your palace. Once you have memorized the contents of your palace you can recall them simply by mentally walking through it or looking around it. If you need to give a speech, just follow your route in order as you do so. If you need to remember that your girlfriend’s birthday is March 16, simply go into your bedroom and see the soldiers “marching" on the bed to the tune of the 80s cult classic “Sixteen Candles." With practice you will be able to start anywhere in your palace or along your route to recall a specific piece of information.
Build new palaces. A memory palace can be reused over and over again if you need only commit things to memory for a short time. Just replace the existing contents with new ones, and you’ll soon remember only the new ones. If you need to remember the contents of your palace for a long time, you can keep that palace as it is and create new ones in which to store other information as needed. If your house contains the phone numbers of everyone you know, you can walk to your workplace if you need to remember the order of a deck of cards.
http://www.wikihow.com/Build-a-Memory-Palace

Personally, this simply would never work for me....I mean, I really feel deeply ashamed, and genuinely sad to admit this, but, fascinating as this was to read--I sort of got lost halfway through the first paragraph. It's a frustrating feeling, but that's just what I've had to learn to live with, all my life.

Truth to tell, I am geninuely rather stupid, really. I'm not just saying that. I am being perfectly serious. Even something as relatively simple as this stuff, if oft-times way too abstract and complicated for my daft brain to comprehend, so until I can find something more simple for my wonky brain--and I have to tell you, it's, for me, just about the worst feeling in the world. I really do hate myself, when I feel stupid. But, there's no hope for me...I suck at memorizing stuff. The only way I ever could pass tests, was to do a mad dash to memorize everything, within an hour of taking a test...same with lines in a script, or giving a speech...and that's a hell of a way to learn stuff, I have to tell you. Ah, well...I'll just have to go on with being an idiot.

Okay, it's time for a little bribery:

If I get 100 signitures on my "Whovians United" petition, asking DT to stay for one more year, by December 1st, I will post a full frontal nude photo of David Tennant on here.

CLICK HERE; http://www.petitiononline.com/837860/petition.html

Tagged by someone named "pastamasta":

A. whats your fav horror movie?

The Birds, always gives me the creeps, that does.

B. do you do dance crazy when no one is looking?
Rarely--but sometimes if an old disco tune comes on the radio, I just cant' resist.

C. do you like to sing in the shower?
what do sing in the shower if you do sing?

I don't sing in the shower very often, but if I do, probably an old folk, cowboy, or blues that I know.

D. whats your fav colour?

Blue--preferably royal or midnight

E. what do you think is/was the most usless class in highschool?

phys ed

F. whats your fav 3 things to do in your free time?

Watch Dr Who
blog/write creative stuff
read

G. are you a very quiet person or very loud?

Generally quiet, unless I'm messing about with mates, or really seriously peeved about something, I suppose.

H. card or board games?

Oh, love board games...I'm rubbish at cards

I. guy flicks or chick flicks?

Guy flicks...still a tom-boy at heart, I reckon.

J. Tan or white?

White--tho' when I used to be out in the sun all day, working, I used to rather quickly tend towards a natural tan, for some reason.

K. favourite domestic animal? why?

Horses, 'cos I've been horse crazy since I was a wee child, dunno' why

L. favourite wild animal? why?

Hawks, 'cos as a teen, I used to sit on a hill and just watch them dive and soar...graceful and beautiful creatures...they move me, dunno' why, they just do.

M. are/where you considered popular in school?

Absolutely not, I was the kid everybody picked on, so mostly I just tried to keep my head down and keep quiet.

N. How old are you in your dreams at night?

I'm not sure, but I get a sense sometimes that I'm a little younger--not a child, just...younger.

O. did you ever have a teacher who picked on you and/or called you names?

Oh yes. Mr. Prunner, my 8th grade maths teacher--he said I was too stupid to learn anything, and that he was gonna' pass me regardless of whether I could do the work or not, just to get me out of his classroom, and then he made me spend the rest of the year, with my head down on my desk.

P. if you could be a sports star, what would you be?

A show-jumper or a harness racing driver

Q. if you change places with a celebrity, who would you be?

Dawn French

R. which childhood dream/wish has yet to be fulfilled?

Having a horse or pony of my own--hell, I'd even settle for a mule.

S. as a teen do/did you experiment with drugs and/or drink too much?

No to both..tho' I did get mildly tipsy, once or twice.

T. has anyone ever spiked your drink at a party?

Yes, someone spiked my Coke with something, when I was playing in the finals of a monopoly tournament once, back when I was 19, and I got totally wasted. That was a bit scary.

U. do you have a hobby? if yes, what?

I've had about half a dozen hobbies over the years. Right now though, mostly it's just writing, and sometimes I still buy an inexpensive mini model horse for collection, when I see one in the shops.

V. if you could do any hobby, regardless of cost or skills required, what would you like it to be?

I'd love to get back into model railroading (sigh), but it's just too expensive.

W. if you could take a "fun" class next month, without regards to experience or cost, what would you sign up for?

Acting...I suck like a Hoover, but I really did have a blast, and it seriously helped me to grow as a person, which still amazes me.

X. believer or non-believer?

Both

Y. have you ever seen a ghost or had any other kind of paranormal experience?

Yup.

Z. you could live anywhere on earth, where do you choose to live?

Preferably in the country or a small town, but if I could live in the UK or the Netherlands, I wouldn't much mind city life, probably...depends on the city, ha-ha.

1.Does the Little Mermaid wear an algae bra?

2.Do infants enjoy infancy as much as adults enjoy adultery?

3.How is it possible to have a civil war?

4.If God dropped acid, would he see people?

5.If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do the rest drown too?

6.If you ate pasta and antipasta, would you still be hungry?

7.If you try to fail, and succeed, which have you done?

8.Whose cruel idea was it for the word “Lisp” to have a “S” in it?

9.Why are hemorrhoids called “hemorrhoids” instead of “assteroids”?

10.Why is it called tourist season if we can’t shoot at them?

11.Why is the alphabet in that order? Is it because of that song?

12.Where are we going? And what’s with this handbasket?

13.If the “blackbox” flight recorder is never damaged during a plane crash,why isn’t the whole damn airplane made out of that stuff?

14.Why is there an expiration date on sour cream?

15. Is the reason Santa is so jolly, because his knows where all the naughty girl's live?

"Look, everyone! I drew a pussy!"

________________________________________________________________________________

Sign the "Whovians United" petition to ask DT to stay on as the Doctor:

http://www.petitiononline.com/837860/petition.html

Bush's last few months in office seem to be revealing the "man's" true colours--yellow and yellower.

First, Bush is going to allow American's big three car makers--massive employers inside and outside the US--encompassing not only US made cars, but also Vauxhaul, Rover, Opel and others....this will potentially lead to millions of job cuts all over the world.

This from the same president who told us that if we didn't allow the 700 billion dollar unsupervised and unconditional bailout of the financial industry, we'd have a global depression--and America would go bankrupt. Erm--isn't that what will happen when the "big three" fail?

Bush spokes people say pretty much that bush doesn't want anything to do with the crisis and is basically ignoring an issue that will ruin thousands--if not millions--of American's lives.

Bush has refused for America to participate in a world-wide conference on battling racism, on the premise that Israel (who--ironically, considering the holocaust-- is also boycotting the conference, not coincidentally) is one of the targets of the conference (for their treatment of Palestinans).

On top of that:

the anti-environmental Bush, is poised to relax laws protecing America's endangered species.

Bush is also relaxing laws designed to protect American consumers

Bush is raking in money for him and his friends, by awarding even more hefty government contracts for Iraq...to companies that VP Cheney and others republican investors have stakes in--contracts that will continue decades after the last soldier has come home...thus, spiraling the national debt so out of control, that it will likely never recover again--not for at least 500 years, at best.

America's most disingenious, disengaged, and disgusting president is running amuck in his last days, pushing forward harmful legislation, while vetoing helpful one's.

And the neo-conservative far-right calls Obama a terrorist???

10 YEARS AGO I...
- was 38 years old.
I was on disability and full benefits (housing, medical, food stamps)
I was living in a nice apartment in a tiny rural mill town in the southern Adirondack mtns.
I was my mum's caretaker
I was working on the paperwork to go back to college full-time in '99
I was working part time at Six Flags amusment park, and when that closed for the season, worked part-time as a kennel assistant for a no-kill animal shelter.
I was diagnosed with the onset of diabetes, and was told I might have MS (which turned out to be nothing more than a bone spur pressing on a nerve in my neck)
I had surgery on my bad right knee--piece of cartlige removed.
I was a meals-on-wheels volunteer.
I'd just gotten a used car (a Plymouth Reliant station wagon) after a five year absence.
My best friends in the world were my mum, my cat Red and the gay couple next door
My mum was living with me.
Sprained right ankle (g2 sprain) when I fell on some ice

5 YEARS AGO I...
Still was living in my first home of my own--a used 1995 14' x 70' 2 bed/2 bath mobile home
Lost my dad to lung cancer
I still had my first new car
went with my college archaeology class to Egypt for two weeks
Came within a hair's breath of buying dream home
Lost 20 pounds from traveler's illness and never gained it back
Lost nearly 3000 dollars in savings, when mum's health care coverage was accidentally cancelled for one month and I had to fork over for a few of the medical bills
I had to take a hiatus from my 4-year Vermont state college for a semester, while I dealt with dad's funeral and cleaned out his apartment and stuff.
I had my very first "girl's day out" when two friends and I went on an overnight to a carriage auction
I studied Shakespeare (Hamlet) for the first time
Wrote my first feature article
Got my first "A" in phys ed, and actually got credit for taking western riding lessons
I was still my mum's caretaker
I bought mum her first new kicthen set (table, chairs, baker's rack, corner hutch) that she'd had in 20 years.
would you believe I sprained my ankle AGIAN?

3 YEARS AGO I...

Spent the first year of my life, totally alone
Was unemployed several times
sold off the last of my antique saddle collection to pay for mum's funeral expenses
Had no food to eat for a few days a couple of times (even tho' I was working 42 hrs a wk)
sold my caravan for 500 dollars over the mortgage, just days before foreclosure
Had some of my possessions--including my family's Christmas tree/decorations--stolen
Moved to a flat in an old house, outside a popular resort town
sprained and fractured my left ankle--returning to work at the track 2 days later.
lived without a working furnace or boiler for several months
got a New York State gaming license
worked as a cleaner at a harness race track/casino
had my car repossessed
worked 7 days a week for 2 1/2 months at a local Travelodge
Got my present job as a telemarketer
Was evicted
Moved to the city where I'm living now
was forced to put four of my seven cats--including my beloved 18 year old Red--to sleep
almost killed myself--but didn't 'cos of friends on a Dr Who website
Met two of my three best friends via the internet that year
Began blogging for the first time as a way of dealing with stuff
Wrote my first Dr Who fan-fiction stories
Saw the "New" Dr Who for the first time
ditto David Tennant
Joined Dctor Who Online and BCUK
Was the last time I'd seen my sister "in person" (New Year's Day '06)
Got a wonderful birthday gift from a friend in the UK

1 YEAR AGO I...

Was extremely ill and in excruciating pain with a tooth abscess last 2 months of the year
I almost collapsed and died from a blood condition in June
I was hospitalized for the first time since 1967
I sprained my right ankle in March
I got a 3G sprain (worst possible) and a fracture in my right foot, leaving me with a permanent painful limp
I was tested for cancer and told I might have heart failure (neither happened)
Got laid off at work temporarily a couple of times
Got a 7% pay cut for several months
Had my student lender garnish my wages
Still in this dead-end job with no pay raise and no benefits (no paid holidays, sick pay, etc)
Made a new friend from Croatia
Won a Christmas tree
Was working 6 to 7 days a week, often in split (day & night both) shifts, 9 hours a day during the week, and 3 to 5 hours on weekends.

SO FAR THIS YEAR I...
Got back on disability--but may lose it again.
Got food stamps again
I came within weeks of being evicted (again)
Almost had my electric and gas shut off (again)
Almost went hungry for the holidays
I bought a new pair of walking boots--first pair in 5 years.
Got some classic Dr Who videos and some Dr Who books,
Someone sent me some great old films on DVD
Had to drop from just under 40 hours a week to half-time
Was hospitalized in January for the face abcess and diabetes
Diabetes and blood pressure worsened--then got better, then worsened again.
Decided--after a long think--to become a semi-atheist
got a rent and internet increase notices in post on my birthday, and, a day or so later, got the news that David Tennant is leaving--birthdays suck and I refuse to acknowledge them anymore!
Other than that, absolutely nothing else has changed.
Decided that I was too tired to care any longer--what bad things happen, will happen

YESTERDAY I...

Tuesday I was sick with a cold again...a repeat of the one I was just getting over from Oct.
I began my new work schedule, working the night shift

TODAY I...
Began my new day scedule at work
had a raging sore throat again
went to the laundromat
have clean pants for the next several days
ate Chinese takeaway for lunch
gave some food to a hungry neighbour
Blogged about the weather, my cats, the local hillbillies, being alone at Christmas, Tennant leaving Who, the death-nell of the American conservative party, and David Tennant's meat and two veg...oh, and I did a meme (make that 2 meme's, now.)

TOMORROW I WILL...

Probably call in late to work, 'cos My throat is so bad tonight there's no way I can talk for four and a half hours without something for my throat--gotta' go to the pharmacy and/or doctor's office.
-

NEXT YEAR I WILL...
- probably be out of work, at least for a few weeks or months--but possibly for the long term, if the country loses millions of jobs.

I really don't care. I only want to concentrate on each day as it comes, for someone like me, looking at the future is a pointless exercise in futility.

The republicans are suicidal. No, really. They are basically not only poisoning themselves with their own refusal to change--they are hanging themselves and then blowing their heads off, for good measure.

First, there's the republicans doggedness to brown-nose up to the extreme religious right (AKA "God-squaders," "Arm-band religion," "Jesus Nazi's,"--my own term-- etc.)...in a country that is becoming more and more diverse, religously; for instance, the republicans totally lost the Jewish vote--nearly 3/4 of Jewish-Americans voted Obama, and many young people--whom don't always choose to be religious, voted democrat, as well.

Then, the republicans started beating the hate drum...something that worked for them during the Gulf War, post-9/11 and in the build up to the Iraq War... but the problem is...apprarently, nobody told them they could stop, now. When people are losing their jobs and homes and are scared and confused, they don't want to hear hate. They want something postive and soothing.

Hate propaganda (anti-Russian, anti-Arab, anti-intellect, anti-abortion, anti-gay, anti-anyone-who-doesn't-comepletely-agree-with-them...or whom doesn't do what they want)...you know, when a kid is having a nightmare, he or she isn't going to be helped by mum or dad telling them, "Yes, Timmy, there really MIGHT be a monster in the closet."

They have lost a huge chunk of their moderate supporters, lost independent supporters--people who sit on the fence between conservative and liberal policies, and vote for whomever they think is best--and, besides the Jewish and under 30 vote, they've also lost a large swath of the black and Hispanic and women's votes, as well. All that's left is an aging white Anglo-Saxon largely protestant male vote...and now, they are thowing over even some of THESE die-hard supporters, by what they are doing--or rather, blatantly NOT doing, in Washington D.C., this month.

One thing that I will say about these right-wing white males...they BUY AMERICAN. They hate being forced to purchase anything that's made in China, India, or wherever. I've had people cancel memberships with the clubs I sell for, only because the club sent them "free" gifts that were made in China.

Additionally, a LOT of these die-hard's work with cars. Not just at the manufacturing plants, but at dealerships, garages and body shops, etc. These good ol' boys LOVE cars--especially AMERICAN cars.

So, when Bush outright says that he has no heart to get involved with the auto industry crisis, when Republican-appointed Treasury of the Secretary Paulson, says he won't even discuss bailing out the US auto industry--despite the apparent very real trickle down effect now, of the loss of over 2 million jobs, worldwide--when republican leaders in the Congress and Senate, doggedly refuse to discuss the bailout in any serious or urgent fashion---they are effectively, and finally, killing their own party.

In a move that reveals the true hate, pettyness, cowardliness and childish tantrums that has ruled the US government for over 8 years, Bush is letting the country dive into the abyss, just to get even for his loss in popularity, and his party being losers.

So, while the world may lose millions of jobs---it will also lose the ultra-conservative, arrogant, narrow-minded bigots who began this whole muck up in the first place...so, you or someone you may know, may become unemployed, we may sink into a global depression, but hey--we'll have finally seen the end to extreme conservatism in the US government...maybe then, things will finally start to go back to normal.

THEN DON'T LISTEN TO THIS!!!

The Donut King's version of a popular Polish-American polka tune:

Well, just go in from doing the laundry. I was famished, so I walked down to the Chinese takeaway, the next street down from the laundromat, and got some pork fried rice, an eggroll and a Sierra Mist soda. Ate part of it--wasn't able to finish my breakfast this morning, so I really was hungry. Then, I decided to walk home from the laundromat, just to get some exercise--the laundromat, I discovered, is only a 15 minute walk from my place--how long have I been living here, two years? And, I've only just figured that out? Sheesh.

Well, the streets are sort of every which way, in this town--lots of short streets broken up all whacky, lots of one-way's, that sort of thing. Some streets stop, and then start again a few streets later, in another location. Weird. Even my street--which is basically the main city street...the equivilent of the British high street, even my street is odd. For instance (and I'm making up this number 'cos I'm not about to tell the planet the address of my apartment building) Anyway, I live at 643...and the next house on the street...is 649! What the heck? There's my building, there's the corner of B___ street, and house number 649...what's with that??? I mean, it's not like there ever could have been a house there, before...it's a bloomin' side street---the side street must be an older one too, 'cos all the homes are late Victorian to 1940's era, for pity's sake! So...why skip two numbers? Crazy city.

Anyway, I brought my lunch home to finish it, and I reckon Flame is very much feeling better, 'cos she was all over the takeaway bag, before I even opened it! Cripes! She loves her Chinese takeaway (well, the pork really, Flame adores Chinese pork)...she loves it almost as much as she loves hot buttered popcorn...so, while she didn't eat everything I gave her, she did a fair job of scarfing down the first few pieces, so reckon she's on the mend.

I tempted her to eat this morning, by opening a tin of tuna--which means that the tuna casserole I'd planned for my supper tomorrow, will have to be put off until Saturday, 'cos the tinned tuna from the convenient store across my my office is ridiculously expensive. But, it was worth haveing to shift my dinner menus around, just to see Flamey eat and feel a wee better, poor sweet. She's such a wee thing compared to the boys: Boots is just a big ol (neutered) tom, and Charlie basically looks (and feels) like a 15 pound bowling ball with fur. If you filled him with air, and wrote GOODYEAR on his side, he'd make a marvelous mini-Zepplin.

My hillbilly neighbours next door haven't been taking very good care of their cat--they either let it outside in the cold for hours (yes, they have fur, but they can still catch cold when the wind makes the air feel like minus 6 C, like it did last night), or they leave the little lad out there in the hallway for hours, with no access to food and water. I put a water dish out there for it...but someone threw it away or stole it, dunno' which. y

Speaking of my hillbilly's--I spoke with someone today, whose spouse works as a teacher for a local public (state) school district, in a rural town her in the Adirondack mountains. Apparently the teacher had a problem child in her class room, and called in the parents for a little parent-teacher conference. Here's what the parents had to say, about the reason for junior's bad behaviour (and the person swore this was what they actually said)--"He's got emotional problems 'cuz his mother married outside the family."

Sometimes I really do feel like I've landed in a city that's halfway between a situation comedy and an episode of Dukes of Hazard.

It's not even Thanksgiving yet, and everyone's talking about Christmas, already. It'll be another quiet Christmas for me, and truthfully, yes, there are moments--only briefly--when I sometimes wonder if I'll ever spend Christmas eve with another human being again.

OK, wait. Stop. God, that came out sounding really pathetic to me. I SWEAR I didn't mean that like I'm feeling sorry for myself. So, let me explain what I REALLY meant: What I meant was...well, it's just...a question, nothing more. Like when you're a kid, and you wonder if you'll ever get married... that sort of thing. And really, Christmas really a children's holiday, anyway, right? I may act a bit childish sometimes, but I'm very much midde aged and perfectly OK with that, trust me on this.

Okay, let's get away from a subject that I'm really not at all comfortable discussing--God only knows why I brought it up in the first place--and let's move on to something else.

Tardisgurl sent me an e-mail, carrying on about who the 11th Doctor might be...really, I love DT's Doctor so much, that I'm in no rush to find out who his replacement is. Doc Ten has given me so much joy, has helped me to endure so much bad stuff, that I really am reluctant to even think about his passing on to other work...I KNOW he has to, it's in the man's nature, I think (DT, I mean) to constantly keep busy and do different stuff. Tennant's a bit hyper and sort of anal about his craft, and nothing will change him, I don't think..he is what he is, and that's fine. And, I KNOW after 25 years of being a die-hard Whovian, that the Doctor HAS to change, eventually, to keep the show fresh and new--but I so dearly love Moffatts scrips, and love Tennant's enthusiasm, passion (for Dr Who, not sex) and acting, that I was almost literally praying (which says a lot since I hate prayer and have become a semi-athiest) that Tennant would stay on just until Season five--even if only part-way, just to see what he would do under Moffatt...but, I guess life's even gonna' screw me out of that simple joy.

Anyway, change of subject again: Tardisgurl's meme of Three's.

__________________________________________________________________

Three Things That Scare Me:

Homelessness
spiders
Sarah Palin

Three People Who Make Me Laugh:

Dawn French
Graham Norton
Catherine Tate

Three Things I Love:

(things, right, not people?)
Doctor Who, Nature, Writing/reading (tied in together)

Three Things I Hate:

Poor or no manners
bigotry--race, sexual orientation, body (fat/appearence bigots), or whatever.
People who are too lazy to think for themselves...and yet speak with authority.

Three Things I Don’t Understand:

How the American people can be so outraged by terrorists' killing innocent human beings, but they are perfectly OK with, very literally, millions of Americans--like cancer patients--suffering needlessly each year--even dying, for no other reason than both they and our government won't get in line with the rest of the civilized, compassionate western world, and provide free acess to health care.
Also:
People who abuse other people or animals--physically, sexually, verbally or emotionally. And...anything technical--...I pods, I phones...it's all "I," "I," "I," these days, isn't it?

Three Things On My Desk (besides computer):

A Hammersley (spode) china mug with a fox-hunting scene that I use as a pen pot,
a small framed photo of my mum when she was around 20 years old,
an old desk lamp that's got two plastic horses on it--a Clydesdale mare and foal in harness--that came from Woolworth's in the early 80's.

Three Things I’m Doing Right Now (besides blogging):

Listening to the Proclaimers
Petting Boots
Drinking a glass of juice

Three Things I Long To Do Before I Die:

Go to the UK
Have something I've written properly published
visit a Dr Who exhibit or convention just one more time (which I've not done in 20 yrs)

Three Things I Can Do:

Write
Cook
Clean and re-finish a yucky old saddle so it looks almost new again

Three Things I Can’t Do:

Sing
Act
juggle

-Three Things I Think You Should Listen To:

I'm not going to tell anyone to listen to anything, they can make up their own minds, thanks.

Three Things You Should Never Listen To:

George W. Bush
polka music when you have a hangover
Russell Brand on your answering machine

Three Things That Irritate Me:

that snarky recording from the phone company, where the obnoxiously posh American woman's voice, rudely snips out: "The number you have reached is NOT in service. THIS is a recording." Good God! Get over yourself Telephone Lady!

Those guys that ramble about the shops, whistling tunelessly.

"Parents" (aka: zookeepers) whom allow their wee children--as young as 5 or 6 years old, to rudely answer the telephone, by demanding "WHO'S THIS!!!"

Three Things I’d Like To Learn:

How to act
How to write (non-news) TV and/or film scripts
How to drive a horse

Three Favorite Foods You Order At Restaurants:

Pizza
Steak
Grilled Reuben Sandwich (lean corned beef, swiss cheese, sauerkraut and russian dressing, between grilled bread)

Three Shows I Watched With My Family As A Kid:

Man from U.N.C.L.E
The Monkees
Batman (Adam West)

Three celebrities I'd like to meet:

(Aw, I'm so not into celebrites...I have to think about this...just hum the "Jeporady" quiz theme tune while I fart around pondering this question...)

Okay, I suppose I'd enjoy meeting:

Russell T. Davies
Catherine Tate
Hilary Clinton

(and before the fan-girls get all over my case, I like DT a whole lot, really I do, I think he's briliant--but seriously, I really don't feel any connection to him, on a personal level as an adult, sorry.)

Well, maybe not so much groovy, as...okay. The cold that came slamming back on me over my days off (typical), seems to have improved yesterday, thankfully. Certainly, the sore throat is...I cannot tell you how much I'd been dreading today, if I still had the sore throat, 'cos talking nearly five hours steady with a burning lump in one's throat, can be sheer torture--trust me: been there, done that, got the tee shirt.

Flamey is better, as well. Oh, her appetite is still a wee off, but she's drinking and was even a bit playful, this morning--tho' when I went to pet her, she began whinging and crying pathetically...then when I stopped petting her, she began batting her mouse around, so I think she's just milking the sympathy a tad. Cats, gotta' love 'em...they are sooo-much like us, when you come to think of it...only, they have fleas.

"Oh, brilliant! I think playwrite27's cat has given me some virtual reality fleas! I KNEW I shouldn't have read her blog, this morning!"

Won't be online much until late evening, today. I have go in early, work a half hour late, then truck home for lunch and buzz off again to to some chores...which if bus schedules are running true to form, will likely take at least two or three hours. (sigh), then, back home to supper...may be too blinking tired to blog tonight (yeah, like THAT will ever happen.)

It's a wee chilly outside this am...half past 7 here, 22 F...think that's around -4.7 C? But, it's due to warm up to about 14 C today, so no worries. Hey, it's the start of winter, what else is new?

A cold snowy night--just a dusting, though...roads and walks are dry already. Almost broke my backsides going into work though--blimey! The snow had just fallen, and the pavement were wet...and the temps were rapidly dropping, and so the wet turned to a thin coating of ice..and I nearly took a header in my office building's car park.

It's 23 F (-4.7 C) and clear at the moment--10.00 pm, though. Supposed to get down to 13 F, later tonight (that's around minus 11 C). No big snowstorms in the forecast though, just a dusting here and there, in between the sunny days, so that's not so bad. And 13 F, that's no big deal--MINUS 13 F, then I might grouse a bit.

I was reading where Hilary Clinton may be our new Secretary of State, replacing Rice-a-roni Condeleeza Rice--oh good, a secretary of state who prefers brains over fashion tips. I know some people like Rice, but that woman always made me wince with embarrassment, every time she opened her whingy gob.

Ah, I wish mum were alive to see this--the downfall of the republican party, and whole new slate...let's just hope the democrats don't muck it up again, like they did during the Carter administration.

Yeah, Dick Cheany is under indictment in South Texas, for an investment scandal involving a privately run federal prison there. I imagine that after Bush leaves office, a lot of really nasty stuff is going to come out of quite a few overturned rocks.

The heads of the US auto industry testified in Washington D.C. today. The big wigs at the car companies vowing to reduce their salaries to one dollar, if the govt. would approve the bail-out....which proves how very rich these guys really are, if they can so blithely do that! Either that, or they really do have their shorthairs to the wall, and really are scared and desperate.

The gents in suits stressed to congress that if the car companie fail, millions of jobs would be lost---far more than what economists predict. They predict anywhere from 30,000 to 50,000 in national job losses--with an additional 10 to 15 thousand jobs in Europe--, if car maker's file for bankruptcy. The biggest prediction of job losses from a non-partial source, that I've read of is an economist some college in Massachusets, who predicted last week that 150,000 to 200,000 jobs could be lost, world-wide, if car makers go into bankruptcy.

Here's some list of just which car manufactuing plants--including subsidiary's of those makers, might seriously impacted by a bankruptcy filing of one or all of the major US car makers:

IF GENERAL MOTORS FAILS, THESE CARS WOULD BE IMPACTED:

Chevrolet (US)
Buick (US)
Pontiac (US)
Cadillac (US)
Saturn (US)
GMC (US)
Hummer (US)

Opel (Germany) (who is already asking the German govt. for assistance)
Vauxhall (UK)
Saab (Sweden) - 50%
Holden (Australia)
Suzuki (Japan) - 3.7%
Daewoo (Korea) - 50.9%
Shanghai GM (China) -

IF FORD FAILS, THESE CARS WOULD BE IMPACTED

Ford (US)
Mercury (US)
Lincoln (US)
Ford (Europe)
Aston Martin (UK) - 8.3%

Jaguar (UK)
Volvo (Sweden)
Land Rover (UK) - for history, see Rover
Ford (Australia)
Mazda (Japan) - 33.4

IF CHRYSLER FAILS, THESE CARS WOULD BE IMPACTED:

Chrysler (US)
Dodge (US)
Jeep (US

Captial Hill lawmakers aren't really buying into this tale of woe, though. They feel that the car maker's did this to themselves, and are expressing concern that car makers will continue to do business as usual, even after the bailout. Gee, if lawmakers were only more concerned about BANKS doing the same thing, after they got that 700 BILLION bailout. Banks that are continuing to rip off consumers with high interest rates and shady charge, banks that still are continuing to pay top execs million dollar bonuses--while laying off lower-ranking staff.

I am not overly fond of the way the car company's have been having everything their own way for decades--but, so have the banks. Republicans are so incredibly two-faced, phony, lying and hypocritical, it just staggers the hell out of me how ANYONE can possibly take anything that comes out of their over-bloated egotisical mouths, seriously any longer.

Speaking of cars, one is seeing more and more European cars here, of late. A couple of years back, the mini made its appearence, and was instantly a big hit with the rich and trendy. I rather like it, myself. Saturday, as I was leaving my building, I saw my first Smart Car in person (having only seen one once, in a Dr Who episode), parked on the street near my office car park. Some foreign cars are REALLY ugly though. This is my least favourite car of all time:

I don't care what you say, these are UGLY cars.

I've just been asked to translate some text speak posted in a previous post about the genocide of the English Language.

Rather that re-post in that post, I will add this as a fresh post here.

What if Shakespeare wrote in text-speak?

What if we turned these lines:

"O! What a rouge and a peasant slave am I!
Is is not monsterous that this player here
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
That, from her working, all his vissage waned,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?

To:

O! I M A SMF N ACORN!
4COL, ITS A BAMF, 4 ME
AFAICS, ITS AN AFJ, FUBAR
IMAO, I M A FUM

_________________________________________________________________

TRANSLATION from text-speak: *

Oh! I am a stupid motherfucker, and a compltely obsessive really nutty person!
For crying out loud, it's a bad ass motherfucker, for me
As far as I can see, it's an April Fool's joke, fucked up beyond belief
In my arrogant opinion, I'm a fucked up mess.

______________________________________________________

*(translated into modern English--taking into account that I'm not an English major or a Shakespearan scholar--in fact my sum total of learning anything Shakespeare in 14 years of passing through New York state schools, and in 5 years of community and state college, is a total of one 1970's film of Romeo and Juilet in my 9th year, and 2 weeks of studying Hamlet in college back in 2004...so if I totally got this interrperation Hamlet's meaning wrong, sorry, I'm just a stupid American, what do I know from Shakespeare?):

As a lark, I posted a petition online, http://www.petitiononline.com/837860/petition.html
to ask David Tennant to stay on as the Doctor, for just one more year...just to see what sort of response it would get. That was about a week ago, and so far, fan repsonse from over the world has been...underwhelming.

My little joke petition has netted a total sum of...(drum roll please)....

....EIGHT signitures so far. Whoo-hoo! Way to go Whovians!

Poor David, well, you know, you are getting a bit past it. Once you've hit 955, all the companions these days want younger, hipper Time Lords..and you know how young fan girls today are...anyone over 37 is ancient, no matter how sexy his hair is.

Maybe it was those dirty trainers--smelly feet can be such a turn off in a Time Lord.

It has recently been discovered by scientific researchers that humans and kangaroos--animals which may have actually originated in China--share not only a common ancestor--but also, the exact same genes!

Scientists researching geomes in kangaroos, have to their surprise, discovered that the animals actually share some of the exact same traits as humans. Says one of the main researchers: "We thought they'd be completely scrambled, but they're not. There is great chunks of the human genome which is sitting right there in the kangaroo genome."

Apparently, though there are differences, where humans have more or less of one thing or another, essentially: a lot of the genes in kangaroos are not only EXACTLY the same as us, but, they occur in EXACTLY the same order, as well.

Scientists believe that this knowlege can open doors into seeing what we humans were like, 150 million years ago.

The Untied States Buerau of Land Management (BLM) had earmarked 2000 wild horses to be shot and slaughtered for meat, due to what it claims is overcrowded range conditions, being unable to support the horses, and competing with rancher's cattle grazing ranges on public lands.

But, the widow of American billionare, Boone T. Pickens, has said she would pay the federal governemt to allow her to adopt every last one of the wild horses.

Before a national grass roots movement by concerned adults and school children in the late 1950's and early 60's put a stop to it, cowboys and ranchers and meat packers were rounding up, shooting and slaughtering wild horses en masse, partly for the money they'd get from the meat, partly to "protect" public grazing lands and partly purely for what these "men" questionably called "sport".

Plus, Madeline Boone will also adopt--if allowed--the other 30,000 wild horses and burros, awaiting adoption in BLM holding pens across the nation. American citizens may adopt a wild horse or burro, for a small fee--but, must meet certain requirements, both before and after the adoption takes place. Unfortunately, the number of adoptions has dropped in recent years, due to the high upkeep of these animals--they are truly wild, and require extra care and handling to be domesticated enough to interact with humans, and trained for riding and/or driving.

I suppose I'm a bit of an old prude. I mean, I swear--but I HATE it, it's just a horrible habit I fell into, after working as the sole female staff at a muffler shop, back in the late 80's, where basically, continual foul language was the order of the day--I started and have yet to break the habit...much to my very real and deep regret.

I'm not saying no one should ever swear. But, swearing's a bit like sex---a little serves its purpose and has it's value...but, too much makes it pretty well meaningless.

I read books and watch films filled with swearing....and after a while, you tune it out, and it becomes utterly pointless. F_ck replacing other words, which would actually make the conversation a whole lot more interesting.

I mean, if I were to re-write a quote from a book for our modern intellectually challenged public, for instance, and insert swear words into it, it would look like this (here I am substituting feck for f_ck):

The first fecking thing, was never to fecking accept anything as fecking true that I did not fecking know to be so evidentally g_damed so: that is to fecking say, carefully to avoid shite like precipitancy and fecking predjudice, you fecking get what I mean?

True, to some of the mentally lazy out there, that might make Descartes' "Discourse 2" seem much more readable, but, would you appreciate the meaning more or less, by having a bunch of totally meaningless swear words hurled at you? I'm not saying I have an answer to that, mind you. It's just that the English language is so complex and interesting, it genuinely makes me despair, to see so many people abusing and ignoring it.

I also throughly dislike "text-speak," in everyday writing, as well.

What if Shakespeare wrote in text-speak?

What if we turned these lines:

"O! What a rouge and a peasant slave am I!
Is is not monsterous that this player here
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
That, from her working, all his vissage waned,
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?

To:

O! I M A SMF N AN ACORN!
4COL, ITS A BAMF, 4 ME
AFAICS, ITS AN AFJ, FUBAR
IMAO, I M A FUM

(I actually had to find an online text speak dictionary, to do this, by the way)

Flamey's flea allergy is back--probably from the cat next door, whom the neighbours let roam the hallways all the time, 'cos they claim he pees in the apartment...so often he's hanging around outise my apartment door...with my cats on the other side...reckon somehow the fleas may have hopped under the door or something, 'cos my cats haven't had fleas in around a year and a half...there were fleas in here when I moved in, and it took me months to rid the place of them--now thanks to my ne'er do well lazy redneck neighbours, I have them back again!

I combed a huge flea off of the top of Boots' head last night, and Flamey is beginning to lose her fur again (as seen below), poor wee girl. On top of that, she's been doing some projectile vomiting the last few days, and is off her food--tho' she seems to be drinking water, OK. I can't take her to the vet's, either--can't go to my own doctor, for that matter, as the other half of the utility bill is due on Friday--which is nearly 3/4 of my weekly pay packet, gone in one throw. I just have to keep my fingers crossed, and hope she hasn't gotten into anything that's poisoned her, or some bad cat food or something--Boots threw up the other night, as well, but otherwise seems clear-eyed and chipper...think his might have been merely a hairball, or eating his dry food too fast.

Anyway, I'm going to be hard pressed to buy the flea medication, don't think a trip to the vet is likely--we're talking roughly 50 to 100 dollars a throw--or more, even..not counting the cost of cab fare, which is around 15 dollars round trip. This expense, with my low income, is simply something I'm seldom likely to have to spend.

Poor Flamey. About all I can do is love her and cuddle her and try to make her feel better, emotionally...if nothing else, maybe it will calm her down--she freaks out when she has an upset tummy.

I just got an e-mail from one of my Whovian friends on another website, and she's all a flutter 'cos she's going to some party in Cardiff next April, in honour of David Tennant.

I guess they're sending him off with a bang, ey? Don't let the door slam you on the way out, Davey-boy, oh, and here's some booze to make the trip less painless....just kidding, sorry.

Apparently, the "Party for TEN-nant" will take place on Saturday, 18th April 2009 at The Marriot Hotel, Cardiff. The party is being organised by David Tennant fans. Will the illustrious celebrity from Scotland, the one, the only David Tennant, deign to make an appearence? Probably not, if he's got a lick of common sense, and doesn't want to be crushed by a mob of panting, screaming, fan-girl's, wetting themselves for a chance to touch their sex-god. Although, I will say, British fans are far more reserved than US fans would ever be...cultural differences.

Over here--if he was in a part of the country where fan-girls were, like Los Angles or New York City, he MIGHT get mobbed, but...not Glens Falls, obviously--he could get into his hoodie and sport that unshaved bum look of his, and as long as he didn't say anything, or wear any velvet smoking jackets that make him look gay (sorry), no one would ever know he wasn't a local...the chances of anyone asking him for his autograph would be minimal to none, in these parts, most likely. Probably not even the local press would notice. Oh, there's a few scattered Who fans around, but so far, I've yet to meet any DT fan-girls, in my neck o' the woods, as we Yanks say. I already have an autograph, and have never had--and probably never will--ANY sexual fantasies about DT, so you can count me in with the rest of the population, as well. Ha! Not that he's ever going to come to the southern Adirondacks...Scottish city boy in redneck land? Not likely.

DAVID TENNANT--SCOTTISH CITY BOY, MAJOR BRITISH CELEBRITY, TELEVISION SEX-GOD AND TRENDY LONDON METROSEXUAL:

A TYPICAL ADIRONDACKER, THIS TIME OF YEAR

Woke to a dusting of snow, this morning, a few scattered flakes of the white stuff, blowing in the air. Supposed to be like this for a while, I guess. Not that it's unusual or anything. A few fringes of white around the eaves of houses and corners of sidewalks? Bah, that's nothing.

What we need is a really good nor'easter, two or three feet of the white stuff, howling in at us from the general direction of the New England coastline and/or Canadian maritimes, and THEN it's winter, oh yes.

Yup, still got the cold, stage one over (sore throat), stage two on its way (nose like Niagara Falls). At least, 'cos I've already had it (well, I suppose I have TWO cold's now, 'cos I'm still a bit chesty from the last one), but since it's hit me once already, the second time is much, much milder..so, hopefully no worries about losing loads of pay, 'cos I have to stay in bed, like last month.

Oh, by the way, if anyone is sending packages for the holidays, via UPS or Fedex, there's a new e-mail scam on the internet, where you're sent an e-mail inviting you to track your package--DON'T respond! The only way to properly track your packages is through the official UPS and Fedex websites.

Have to go to the laundromat today. Wanted to go, yesterday, but didn't want to go outside with a sore throat, so am putting it off to a little later today. Have to take the bus, 'cos I don't want to shell out for a cab--and to buy some extras Sunday, to fight this cold, so it's left me a bit tapped in the old wallet. I've all of 15 dollars left, an it's $6 to $9 in cab fare, depending on which place I choose to go to (there's four I use). Takes a whole lot longer by bus (with their stinking only once an hour--maybe-- scedules), and I can't take as much stuff, for obvious reasons, but, I do save money that way. God, I really do miss having a car--how much easier my life was! But, on my kind of income, who can afford the petrol, car payments, inurance bills, tyres, oil changes, etc? And, don't talk to me about the cost of towing, if you break down. Me, afford a car? Not bloodly likely.

Well, I have to get my backsides in gear, and rustle up something for breakfast. Still have a bit of gammon steak left over from last night, might make myself some ham, eggs and potatoes for a decent breakfast, for a change. Then again, I may just settle for a bowl of honey-nut tastee-o's.

Shame about having to mod my comments. I get less comments now...which is fine. Comments are always lovely to have, but I'm not one of these that gets upset if I get none--I get 600 to 900 visitors a day, and--maybe--only two to five comments on this blog, sometimes no comments at all, so it's hardly a disappointment if the number of my coments drops.

Well, the half-arsed snowfall out there must mean it's cold, so I'll have to make sure I'm wearing a warm sweatshirt and a scarf when I go out, I reckon.

Have a good day, all.

so here I am, just a short time before bedtime. Wrote a story, had my tea and biscuits, some juice, chilled to music from my past...30 or so years ago..my God, do you KNOW how old that makes me feel? Seems like only yesterday...where the heck has the time flown? Ah well, there's still some of that tree-hugging, poetry-reading, budding trancendentalist, horse crazy, teenage tom-boy in me here, somewhere.

I try real, real hard these days, not to dwell overmuch on my past--other than coming to grips, and making peace with, parts of my past that still remain unsettled in my mind. I try not to look into the future, either, but just live, day by day, hoping I get through one more day, without crisis or emotional pain. It's the best I can do all on my own, I'm afraid. I'm not exactly a "normal" person, afterall.

I pretty much grew up with my ear practically glued to the radio--god, I loved music--top 40, soft rock, disco, folk music, country--everything but heavy metal and some hard rock.

(punk, rap, europ-pop and alternative were pretty much still in the future, at that time)

A few years later, I would tune into jazz, blues and classical, --this began sometime in my early 20's, and, not relating to MTV and 80's pop tunes, I began to tune out pop, country and other forms of "popular" music on the radio...only listening in the car, mostly.

But then, the internet came along--or rather, my access to high-speed internet...now, I've got new music (well, to most of you, it's probably stuff you've been listening to for a while--but it's "new" to me)

Now, I listen again, tonight, to all the songs I loved as a teen and young adult, during a very exciting--and sometimes depressing--time of my life. Probably the last time of my life, when I truly had freedom to be, whomever I wanted to be, roaming the hills, fields and woods around my home, with my two dogs, Happy and Shamrock.

Listening tonight, I remember the places I was in, the feelings that I had, when I hear these songs--as much as they'd happened yesterday. It makes me want to reach right through the speakers, and go back there, back to just one moment in time, when a mere song playing on the radio, and made me so blissfully happy.

WHAT I'M LISTENING TO TONIGHT:

TITLE ARTIST

You can do magic---America
Every woman in the world---Air Supply
Who's Crying Now---journey
I don't want to live without you--foreigner
Maneater---Hall and Oates
Never gonna' let you go---sergio mendez
too much heaven----bee gess
Dreams---Fleetwood Mac
Baby come back---player
Look what you've done to me--boz scaggs
Your the only woman--ambrosia
Sailing---Christopher Cross
Waiting for a Girl Like You---Foreigner
Night Fever----bee gees
Even the Nights are better--air supply
Love me tomorrow---Chicago
Rhiannon--Fleetwood Mac
Don't stop believing---Journey
What a Fool Believes--Doobie Brothers
I can't tell you why---Eagles
Sara---Starship
Baby What a Big Surprise---Chicago
Desperado---Eagles
Africa---Toto
Private Eyes---Hall and Oates
Oh No---The Commodores
Steal Away---Robbie Duprie
Biggest Part of Me---Ambrosia
Do you Remember?====phil collins
How Deep is Your Love---bee gees
Nights are forever without you--england dan and john ford coely
True--spandau Ballet
Eye in the Sky---The alan parson's project
I won't hold you back---toto
All out of Love---air supply
I go crazy---paul davis
Best of my love---eagles
I Just wanna Stop---Gino Vanelli
I want to know what love is--foreigner
think of Laura--Christopher Cross
Making Love out of Nothing at all--air supply
Dust in the wind---kansas
Take the Long Way home---supertramp

Whew! That Who fic story I started in early June of this year, then left unfinished, because I felt I needed a semi-hiatus from Dr Who (realized I was getting a wee too obsessed, when I was up half the night crying, when David Tennant "regenerated" in episode 12)..so I stopped writing Dr Who fiction for about 4 months...took it up again this past week, and just--finally--finished Dark Holiday, tonight. Left off at chapter three, all those months ago, and did chapters 4 though 7 in the last three or four days. It's not a very good story, but I always hate to leave stories unfinished, so there's that stone from around my neck...

...I have one other that needs finishing--I got writer's block, massive writer's block, when in the middle of writing a story called, "Numbered Days," about a subjugated race of people on a distant planet, a segregated planet, where the working class are forced to live underground, only allowed to be known by numbers--facing death if they assume an actual name...and the elite class--who live in a sleek domed city, have names, and are in a constant struggle for power, money and possessions. Kind of an obvious story, I guess. But, there ya' go.

It's nice to be writing again, even if I am sick as a dog with this blasted never-ending cold, and probably making a million typos and spelling errors, as a result. But, writing does make the time fly for me. I start at 8pm, and the next I know, it's nearly 11pm. Which, my life being the way it is, is a genuine blessing, making the long winter nights, shorter. I put my "Christopher Cross" channel on Pandora Radio (sorry the UK can't get it, it's fab!), and, besides Cross, listened to air supply, phil collins, Fleetwood Mac, Chicago, Journey, the Doobie Brothers, Eagles...all the sounds I listened to, from my mid-teens to early 20's. It really does make the time fly, when you're alone.

My final word: Only oversexed chavs read and write Who porn--no REAL Whovian would ever sink that low---PLEASE don't "dumb down" Doctor Who!!! It deserves better than that!

http://davidtennantsdoctor.wordpress.com/doctor-who-dark-holiday/

Well, had a pleasant supper, my sore throat is finally better, I'm sitting here listening to the "Christopher Cross" station that I made up on my Pandora radio station--brilliant! All the great songs from my age 16 to 19 years--great years for music. I'm chillin'!

Well, really, I'm sitting here drinking some Hedley organic black tea and noshing on some more diabetic chocolate biscuits, and chilli', to be more exact.

I have to put the finishing touches on the living room, then I'm going to finish Dark Holiday tongight and get that stupid who-fic shelved and done with. Good riddence...it's a crap story...only one brief running scene and not a single explosion. What's Dr Who coming to? (Note: I couldn't resist the pull of an explosion, so I put one in at the very end of the story--only a little one, though)

It's half-past eight already. That's half-past one in the morning, for you Brits, so I don't reckon many of my British friends will be reading this, so I will with you all a good Tuesday...and to my North American pals...have a great rest of the evening.

...to make fun of Christmas!

Here's the latest trailer from the BBC, for the Christmas special...and, here's the latest rumour which I've seen on the fan forums...that the lady in the video is really The Rani. Okaay, then. The Rani rumour, as I call it, has been around for ages...oh, and the other, far more ridiculous rumour, is that the woman is really the Master.

There's been also more hats tossed into the ring, as to who shall be taking the key to the Tardis from the departing David Tennnat. I don't even want to think about that yet, I just want to enjoy what time Tennant has left, and let be what is to be. I've lost so much in my life, I'm in no rush to see something else that I love, die (10th Doctor's character, not Tennant, of course). It's too bad Tennant is so anal about his career.

I would have adored seeing Tennant under the reins of Moffatt's production...not that RTD and company weren't wonderful, as well--but, unlike RTD, who likes Dr Who but isn't a "fan,' Moffatt is truly one of US...a true Whovian--he's an anorak and not affaid to admit it...or to humour us by going to conventions. Still, Tennant is a grown man with a life of his own outside of Dr Who, a workaholic devoted to his career, and he has to do what he thinks is best for himself--after all, in the end, isn't that what we all do? That's just the way the biscuit crumbles, I guess.

Besides Bush and his republicanite's saying no to using a small part (25 billion) of the 700 billion dollars earmarked for bailing out the financial industry, for helping out the auto industry, now union workers (including my sister's partner, who makes transmissions for Toyota) for foreign car makers are urging lawmakers to not bail out the ailing American car maker's. Wow, that's a real shocker, ey?

Alabama is leading the opposition against helping US owned car makers...because Alabama is home to two foreign-owned car manufacturing plants. Nice to see how much Americans are united and patriotic for their country, the minute MONEY is involved, ey?

I'm telling you, extreme capitalism and democracy can never be bedfellows. It's like going to bed with a sheep...you can have your moment of gratuitous sex, but you can't reproduce and make a family.

Our neighbour across the hills, the state of Vemont--aka, "the Green Mountain State"--harbours the most helathy city in all the US....Burlington, Vermont, in the state's "northeast kingdom," located on the northern shores of Lake Champlain, has a population that is a staggeringly 92 % healthy.

According to various news reports, "It's also among the best in exercise and among the lowest in obesity, diabetes and other measures of ill health, according to a recent report from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

This New England city of 40,000, on the shores of Lake Champlain, is in some ways similar to the unhealthiest city — Huntington, W.Va. Both are out-of-the-way college towns with populations that are overwhelmingly white people of English, German or Irish ancestry".
Burlington is younger, with an average age of 37, compared to 40 in Huntington, according to the Census Bureau.

_Burlington is better off financially, with 8 percent living at the federal poverty level, compared to 19 percent in Huntington.

_It's much more educated, with nearly 40 percent of area residents having at least a college bachelor's degree. Only 15 percent in the Huntington area do.

The cultures are significantly different, too. Bicycling, hiking, skiing and other exercises are common in Burlington. Neighborhood groups commonly focus on improving parks, working in community gardens and repairing and improving sidewalks.

"There's this norm of a lot of activity," said Chris Finley, Vermont's deputy health commissioner, who works in Burlington.

Grass-fed beef is offered in finer restaurants, vegan options are plentiful, and the lone downtown supermarket is run by a co-op successful in selling bulk rice and other healthy choices to low-income residents.

A dreary and wintry morning here on my side of the world...few snowflakes drifting through the air, now and then. It's 40 F (5 C) at the moment--which is supposedly is to be our warmest temperature this week, with highs from 34 to 36 F ( 1 to 2 C), and lows from 18 to 20 F (-7 to -8 C) with intermittent snow flurries for a few days, as well.

Those lovely 55 and 61 F temps this past weekend, were the last hoo-ra, I'm thinking.

I woke with an even worse sore throat today, than yesterday. THANK GOD I don't have to be back to work until Tuesday night..maybe by then it will be better. I can tell you, that four hours of steady talking with a sore throat can be quite hellish.

So, I'm sitting here at half-past noon, althernating between blogging and playing online cribbage, eating a ham sandwich and some honey-mustard flavour Pringles and a Coke, and wondering what I should do first, this afternoon: dust or vacuum? Oh, what an exciting life I lead!

I don't talk about it much, on here, but my mum passed away from complications resulting from end-stage kidney failure. It's a disease that took my grandmother's life, and may posslibly someday, take mine.

I won't go into all the details of kidney failure, other than to say that it's a difficult diseases, usually at some stage requiring patients to be hooked up to a dialysis machine--which pumps out the bad stuff from their bodies, recycles it through a machine, and pumps it back in again--several times a week, often for about 3 hours, spent keeping still in a reclining position. Afterwards, the patient may feel weak and listless. Patients also can lose bodily functions, have damage to internal organs and other complications, get sick to their stomachs and often lose their will to eat, because they have no appetite.

People with kidney disease also have a very restrictive diet. Besides avoiding salt--which is common with many diseases--kidney failure victims must also postassium and other things, as well.

Cooking for a kidney patient, I can tell you from long-term experience, is often difficult--not only does th patient's appetite change daily, but also his or her tastes and cravings. What a kidney patient may want on Saturday, may me an abbohorance to them, on Sunday.

Here are some recipes for holiday meals, that I pulled from the National Kidney Foundation's website. I support the National Kidney Foundation, who was so incredibly helpful to us, during mum's illness.

If you or someone you know, has kidney failure, I hope that you will also consider supporting the foundation--who does so much to help those patients in need, most especially patients with limited means.

_____________________________________________________________________________

HEALTHY HOLIDAY MENU, SPONSORED BY THE NATIONAL KIDNEY FOUNDATION www.kidney.org

Roast Turkey with Fresh Sage
1 teaspoon canola oil
1-12 pound fresh turkey
½ yellow onion diced
1 bunch fresh sage (.75 oz)
2 teaspoons poultry seasoning

Remove giblets and turkey neck from the cavity. Wash the turkey inside and out; pat dry. Remove any pinfeathers from the skin. Sprinkle the cavity with poultry seasoning and place the diced onion and fresh sage in the cavity. Oil the bottom of the roasting pan and place the turkey inside. Bake in a pre-heated 350 oven for 2 ½ to 3 hours; the juices should run clear when you stick your fork between the drumstick and thigh bone. Remove from the heat, cover with foil and let rest 20 minutes before serving.

Analysis
3 oz serving of white meat without the skin , calories 134, total fat 2.8 g, saturated fat 0.9 g, monounsaturated fat 0.5 g, polyunsaturated fat 0.7 g, cholesterol 59 mg, calcium 16 mg, sodium 54 mg, phosphorus 186 mg, potassium 259 mg, total carbohydrates 0.0 g, dietary fiber 0.0 g, sugar 0.0 g, protein 25 g

___________________________________________________________________________

Poultry Gravy
½ teaspoon canola oil
1 ¼ cups (4 oz) ¾ inch diced onion
1 cups (4 oz) ¾ inch diced celery
1½ # chicken wings
4 cups water
¾ teaspoon poultry seasoning
1/4 teaspoon sage
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
1 teaspoon chicken bouillon
¼ cup Cornstarch
½ cup Water

In a heavy bottom pot, add vegetable oil, onions and celery and cook over medium heat until onions are translucent. Add chicken wings, water, poultry seasoning and sage. Simmer for 1 ½ hours. Strain and save the liquid. Refrigerate over night. Remove from the refrigerator, scrape any solidified fat off the top and heat the liquid to a boil. Add white pepper and bouillon. Mix cornstarch and water into a slurry. Slowly whisk the slurry into the simmering liquid. It will thicken very quickly and keep stirring until you have reached your desired thickness. Remove from the heat and serve.

Analysis (subjective to the amount of fat in actual gravy)
8 - ½ cup servings , calories 113, total fat 6 g, saturated fat 1 g, monounsaturated fat 2 g, polyunsaturated fat 3 g, cholesterol 72 mg, calcium 26 mg, sodium 199 mg, phosphorus 138 mg, potassium 221 mg, total carbohydrates 6 g, dietary fiber 0.5 g, sugar 0.8 g, protein 5g

___________________________________________________________________________________

Braised Red Cabbage
½ teaspoon canola oil
6 ½ cups (1 #) Red cabbage, washed, cored and shredded
½ (1/5 oz) Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and diced
1/3 cup Cider vinegar
1/3 cup Splenda (sugar substitute)
White pepper to taste

In a non-stick fry pan; add oil, cabbage, diced apple and vinegar. Cover and cook over medium heat until cabbage is wilted. Add Splenda and white pepper to taste before serving.

Analysis
4 - 1 cup, servings per recipe, , calories 51, total fat 0.8 g, saturated fat 0.1 g, monounsaturated fat 0.4 g, polyunsaturated fat 0.3 g, cholesterol 0.0 mg, calcium 53.5 mg, sodium 31 mg, phosphorus 37.3 mg, potassium 309 mg, total carbohydrates 13.7 g, dietary fiber 2.3 g, sugar 6.1 g, protein 1.7 g

_______________________________________________________________________

I also pulled these from the Divita website, which is a website devoted to renal-friendly recipes:

SLOW COOKER TURKEY BREAST WITH CARROTS AND CRANBERRY GRAVY

Ingredients
18 ounces boneless, skinless turkey breast
1 teaspoon poultry seasoning
1/2 teaspoon chicken bouillon granules or powder
1 cup cranberry sauce
1/3 cup celery, diced
1/4 cup onion, chopped
2 cups carrot pieces

Preparation
Place turkey breast in slow cooker and sprinkle with poultry seasoning and bouillon granules.
Spoon cranberry sauce on top; add celery, onion and carrots.
Cover with lid, turn heat to high and slow cook for 4 hours.

Nutrients per serving
Calories: 216
Protein: 18 g
Carbohydrate: 25 g
Fat: 6 g
Cholesterol: 36 mg
Sodium: 183 mg
Potassium: 373 mg
Phosphorus: 187 mg
Calcium: 43 mg
Fiber: 2.4 g

ALMOST MASHED POTATOES (MASHED CAULIFLOWER)

6 cups cauliflower (1 medium head
4 ounces cream cheese
1 teaspoon garlic
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Preparation
Cut cauliflower into pieces and rinse with water.
Place cauliflower pieces in a microwave safe dish, cover and cook on high for 8 to 10 minutes or until soft.
Drain off moisture from cooked cauliflower.
Carefully place hot cauliflower in a blender and blend until smooth.
Add cream cheese, garlic, and pepper. Blend to combine ingredients.
Remove from blender and serve hot.

Nutrients per serving
Calories: 94
Protein: 3 g
Carbohydrate: 6 g
Fat: 7 g
Cholesterol: 19 mg
Sodium: 76 mg
Potassium: 198 mg
Phosphorus: 54 mg
Calcium: 22 mg
Fiber: 3.4 g

CARROT CASSEROLE

cups carrots, peeled & sliced into 1/4” rounds
12 Ritz® low-sodium crackers, crushed
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 tablespoons onion, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/3 cup cheddar cheese, shredded

Preparation
Preheat oven to 350˚ F.
Place carrots in a large saucepan over medium-high heat and boil until soft enough to mash. Drain and reserve 1/3-cup liquid.
Mash carrots until they are smooth.
Stir in crushed crackers, onion, butter, salt, pepper and reserved liquid.
Place in a greased small casserole dish. Sprinkle shredded cheese on top and bake for 15 minutes. Serve hot.

Nutrients per serving
Calories: 94
Protein: 2 g
Carbohydrate: 9 g
Fat: 6 g
Cholesterol: 13 mg
Sodium: 174 mg
Potassium: 153 mg
Phosphorus: 47 mg
Calcium: 66 mg
Fiber: 1.8 g

RED WINE VINEGARETTE ASPARAGUS (posted here in honour of my mum, who adored asparagus)

Ingredients
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
2 pounds fresh asparagus, cut into 2" pieces
1/4 cup red wine vinaigrette dressing
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Preparation
Heat oil in a skillet, add garlic and sauté 1 minute.
Add asparagus pieces; stir to mix.
Add red wine vinaigrette dressing and pepper. Stir and heat an additional minute.
Remove from heat and serve.

Nutrients per serving
Calories: 58
Protein: 2 g
Carbohydrate: 6 g
Fat: 3 g
Cholesterol: 0 mg
Sodium: 70 mg
Potassium: 154 mg
Phosphorus: 51 mg
Calcium: 19 mg
Fiber: 1.9 g

EASY PUMPKIN CHEESECAKE

Ingredients one 9-inch Nabisco® ‘Nilla® wafer crumb pie crust
1 egg white
two 8-ounce packages cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup egg substitute
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
8 tablespoons Cool Whip® frozen nondairy topping

Preparation
Preheat over to 375º F. Brush pie crust with egg white and bake for 5 minutes. Reduce oven heat to 350º F.
Combine cream cheese, sugar and vanilla in a large bowl and beat with mixer at high speed until smooth.
Beat in egg substitute. Add pumpkin puree and pumpkin pie spice and blend until smooth.
Pour pumpkin mixture into pie shell and bake 40 to 50 minutes until center is set. Cool pie, then refrigerate.
Cut into 8 slices. Serve each slice with 1 tablespoon Cool Whip®.

Nutrients per serving Calories: 365
Protein: 6 g
Carbohydrate: 29 g
Fat: 25 g
Cholesterol: 58 mg
Sodium: 245 mg
Potassium: 126 mg
Phosphorus: 66 mg
Calcium: 11 mg
Fiber: .7 g

APPLE CRISP

Ingredients
5 cups of sliced apples
1 cup white sugar
1 cup plus 3 tablespoons white all-purpose flour (divided use)
1 teaspoon cinnamon (divided use)
1 cup oatmeal
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1/4 cup vegetable shortening

Preparation
Preheat oven to 350° F.
Spray a 9" x 9" pan with nonstick cooking spray.
Peel, core and slice apples.
Combine 1 cup white sugar, 3 tablespoons flour and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon. Add sliced apples and toss to coat.
Pour apple mixture into prepared pan.
Mix oatmeal, remaining 1 cup white flour, brown sugar, remaining 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, baking soda and baking powder. Cut butter and vegetable shortening into this mixture with a pastry blender or a fork.
Pour topping over apples.
Bake for 1 hour.

Nutrients per serving
Calories: 308
Protein: 3 g
Carbohydrates: 54 g
Fat: 9 g
Cholesterol: 11 mg
Sodium: 45 mg
Potassium: 155 mg
Phosphorus: 56 mg
Calcium: 32 mg
Fiber: 2.0 g