I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Blergh!!! I'm still half-asleep, cos' those rugrat teens were bouncing off the walls again upstairs, until 2am again. Did a Victor Meldrew and they quieted down a bit after that...but damn, I'm knackered now--all that extra rest I got earlier this week, nursing the foot, and it just went down the drain. The little...dears.

I don't want to go out today, it's snowy and going to be fridgid on the walk home...temps are going to drop down to a high of maybe...8 whole degrees fahrenheight, tommorrow. Oh yeah, havin' a tropical heatwave, we are. We're only supposed to get maybe 3 or 4 inches of snow this morning, so that's not so bad. It's not like it's a bilzzard dropping 12 or 24 inches or more, down on us. That wouldn't make for a very fun New Year's eve. But I don't envy people going to Albany or Saratoga Spring's "First Night" city-wide celebrations...brrr--it's going to downright arctic out there tonight!

Going to be a long day for me, so I have to schelp off to the kitchen and force myself to eat something for breakie...not hungry, but if I don't eat, I'll be famished by the time my 2pm lunchtime rolls around, do not much choice there.

Anyway, hope you all have a fab New Year's eve...I'm probably going to nap when I get home, or, not...sometimes I'm dead tired in the morning but lose that feeling by the afternoon.

Hope all of you have a safe and happy New Year's eve.

I was sent several meme's this weekend, so here's one before bedtime:

Have you had sex in the past month?

No

Are you gay?

not that I'm aware of

Do you have hairy legs?

sometimes--usually in the dead of winter..I mostly wear trousers in winter (cos' I walk to work), so unless I'm having my legs examined by a doctor, or they are getting exceptionally "overgrown," I pretty much go au natural, come the bitter cold weather.

Do you smoke anything?

nope

Do you like monkeys?

meh

How many fillings do you have?

I don't access to a dentists, so lots of fillings and a few missing teeth, as well.

Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake?

I grew up swimming in lakes and rivers--only swam in the ocean once in my whole life.

Have you ever licked one of those square batteries?

Ey? What the hell would I do a barmy thing like that for? I prefer putting lightbulbs in my mouth.

Have you ever read the Bible?

Yeah, mostly for church reasons. But we had to study Genesis for my college world lit course.

Did you ever go to Sunday School?

Actually our chruch school was held on Thursdays, and it was manditory.

Do you wear a lot of black?

Sometimes, mostly at the office.

Did you ever bring a weapon to school?

Not unless you count the old pocket knife I used to use to cut hay bales with at the stable where I worked after school.

Have you ever hugged a tree?

I was basically a teenage tree hugger--and one time as a young adult, I was really sad after a friend had passed away, and went into the woods and hugged a tree and cried.

Do you know what a sphincter actually is?

Erm--yeah...does this question have a point to it? Cos' if it does, I really don't want to know.

Describe your hair?

Salt and pepper brown, unruly, in desperate need of a cut.

Are you a wildbeast?

Only when I have to deal with co-workers who are complete arses.

Do you like to have fun?

Doesn't everybody?

Do you like drama?

Love it--well, not so much personal drama..the other kind though, it's great. Love theater, bless.

Have you ever taken a bong hit?

Not sure what that is..sounds like something to do with smoking pot or crack? No, that's not something that I would personally choose to do...if others want to, fine.

Do you like mayonnaise?

Oh yes.

Are you afraid to die?

I'm afraid of dying, but not death.

Do you like playing in leaves?

Yeah, I loved it when I was a kid---and probably still do, but that hasn't come up, in my middleage.

Are you an adult?

Yes, and i worked very hard to get that way.

Ever won a spelling bee?

(snorts)

Do you ever eat because your depressed?

Sure, why do you think I'm a pizza-head and weigh over 200 pounds?

Are you a television addict?

Erm--I don't have televison. In the 70's to mid-80's, you couldn't prise me away from the thing...but now? Meh. I think the majority of American telly is just absolute rubbish, not worth wasting my brain cells on--oh, there's some exceptions, of course, but they are too few and far between.

Do you think OJ was guilty?

It was decided by the jury...that said, I leaned towards guilty, as I recall. However, I always found the people who said OJ was guilty or innocent, based solely on his skin colour and/or his fame/wealth, totally ridiculous and shallow human beings.

Do you enjoy spending time with your mother?

My late mum was also my friend...and my mum, when the situation called for it.

Have you ever had sex in a hot tub?

Heck, I've never had the chance to be in a hot tub, let alone have sex in the darn thing.

On a swing?

How rubbish is that? No!

Do you like Elvis?

Meh.

Ever been hit on at a zoo?

Oh sure, I had an elephant wink at me once...get real.

Do you enjoy the calming effects of turkeys?

No more than I enjoy people who ask totally asinine questions.

Does your mom think someone is hot?

Mum once confessed she once had a thing for Tarzan-- Johnny Weissmüller, who was also an olympic swimmer, if memory serves me.

Are you a sugar freak?

I'm diabetic, it's no longer allowed..I'd get very sick or even die.

Do you like fresh squeezed orange juice?

I've rarely had it, I like Orange juice, but I don't especially like warm OJ

What sign are you?

No parking tow away zone

Ever do the party boy dance in front of the elderly?

What the hell are you on about now? What's a party boy dance..and how come no one's taught me it?

What was the last meal you ate?

BBQ franks and beans with tinned corn.

Last thing you listened to:

My Proclaimers CD

Last thing you watched:

Dr Who DVD

Where do you wish you were right now.

In bed, it's past my bed time...night-night all.

Ugh! I sucked at work tonight, people were miserable bastards on the phones, and I only made one tiny insignificant sale that doesn't count for squat all night.

A Co-worker, a empty-headed trendy type...you know, the kind with the bobbed haircut, that has golden retrievers, a Volvo or a beemer, talks "educated" yet has the common sense of a gnat...actually, a gnat probably has more common sense---well, she sits at my desk, and throws my personal items every which way, with no respect for other people's property--and in the process, I've lost some papers that I need to help my do my job! And, it's HARD to get the office to give you copies. That place is so slovenly run now...grrr.

I have a photo of my mum and a binder containing work papers in one corner of the upper shelf--they take up maybe 8 inche of space on a 24 inch shelf. And, on the desk top itself, one framed photo and a tiny little piece of paper with my login name (which is changed every few weeks, and sometimes I forget which one I'm using so I have to write it down)...both these items are stuck in a far corner of the desk, NOT in anyone's way--they are behind the telephone--but this bitch, Sharon--who watched me move my stuff even further out of her way--still moved it--and didn't do it neatly! She keep throwing other people's stuff on top of my stuff--all I did was ASK the bitch to please put my stuff back the way she found it--and she blew her top at me, and started yelling at me that I wasn't supposed to have any personal items (which is BULLS_IT--yes we are), and that no one was supposed to have any assigned desks, yadda-yadda-yadda...I can't argue with a boor, so I just told her, "fine, to hell with it, you do what you want, I just wanted you to respect my things." and walked away. FECK.

It's really not having my personal effects shoved round--I can live with that...but it's my papers I need for my job that go missing, and the fact that this woman leaves the area in such a slovenly mess! I want to just come in, log into the computer, find out which sales or collections programe I'm assigned to, and not have to spend 10 min. straightening up someone else's mess! I thought a teenager was doing it---this woman is MY age, for pity's sake!

You know, I learned when I was just a wee child, that when something doesn't belong to you, you LEAVE IT ALONE...or, if you HAVE to move it, you put things back the way you found them. It's called MANNERS.

FECK. I HATE MY F'ING WORKPLACE, AND I HATE MY F'ING JOB, AND I HATE MY F'ING EMPLOYERS.

Really, it's like being back in stinking high school--and I left that scene behind 30 stinking years ago.

There, I feel much better now.

Got to find another stinking job, I've just got to...with a REAL employer who gives a shite about their workplace, not some two-by-twice gypsy run boiler room operation, whom doesn't know shite about how to run a proper office.

Well, I was almost done. Sorry.

Anyway, good news is, one of my co-workers found out I used to work with horses, and love animals, and she's invited me to stay overnight on her farm this weekend. So I won't be online most of Saturday, and Sunday, 'cos after work Saturday, she's taking me to her dairy farm, and I'm gonna get to feed and help milk her cows, and visit with her horse, and get to meet her family. Is that not cool?

I barely know this lady--we've chatted from time to time and kidded around during our breaks--but she works nights and weekends, and I do more day than night work, and only work Saturdays as a rule--so we don't get to talk much...so my surprise at the invite was complete...seems to be my week for pleasant surprises, as I got the Dr Who Series 4 DVD yesterday in the post, and today in the post, I got Russell T. Davies new book! Two things I dearly wanted by never could afford...I'm gobsmacked.

Whoa. I was on a writer's forum--a section for discussing books, films, televison and such--and mentioned that I didn't watch soap operas, thought 80% of reality programmes were robotic in their entertainment, and was picky about which dramas I choose to watch--and also, that I found plots in romance novels usually quite dull and repetitive...even the graphic sex seems to quickly loses its luster, with its sheer repetitive descriptions in what few romances I have read.

Well, I suppose there's only so many ways one can describe an orgasam. I'm often left wondering it the authoress really had such experiences, or just made it up out of her own bedroom fantasies.

Anyway, I was a bit taken aback by the responses to my brief little statement! Oh, was I shouted down, my goodness! You think I was making a judgement on them, personally! I used to get a similar reaction when I told people I didn't want to drink or try any (illicit) drugs. People used to get quite defensive over that--even my own sister...which is nuts, because I don't do those things only because I just plain don't want to, not because I'm judging people, or trying to make some kind of statement. Stupid gits.

It's amazing how people will take a perfectly simple, straightforward statement, and bend it and twist it around, to mean something totally different. Most times, I don't care, but sometimes....yeah, it can get a tad annoying, sure.

Look at my jokes about David Tennant and/or Doctor Who: I don't mean anything by them, I'm just passing the time of day, having a mild laugh...and if someone thinks it's funny too, great--if not, oh well. That's life. But, some fans have really gone off the deep end--whether I'm joking about Tennant's hair, or something that happened on Dr Who, or what-have-you...they twist it around, take it personally and seriously, think it's a reflection on them, for some strange reason.

But, getting back to the subject, I really don't need to watch most reality programmes. It simply holds no interest for me, what a bunch of shallow, ill-mannered beautiful people do. Many dramas are either things I can't relate to--or, just the opposite, I can relate to them a little too much, and they bring back unpleasant memories.

I'm steeped in reality. I wake with it, even sleep with it sometimes, when I have nightmares. Reality is with me 24/7, 365, year in and year out. I don't need to watch it on tele, thanks. I LIVE it. My life is a living, breathing soap-opera...okay, it doesn't have any sex or violence...or hardly any relationships at all...but to me, it can be just as dramatic sometimes, as any script written by some well-paid, well-clothed, well-fed writer sitting in his nice cozy luxury apartment somewhere, typing away.

My life isn't exciting, it's got more downs then ups--but the downs are filled with drunken brawls or sexual tension...its more about survival and loneliness, brief spurts of happiness and moments of greif and fear. Welcome to Reality-land.

Well, with the intimate knowlege that I have of back injuries, I suppose the word "nicely" is probably the wrong one to use, as there's nothing nice whatsoever about having a bad back.

But, one of my Whovian friends, who is also a Tennant fan-girl, has just messaged me that she'd read where the actor is progressing nicely, from an injury that had left him--I imagine--pretty much immobilized back in early December. That's very nice news, indeed. I want him, like most people, to be able to get back to doing that which seems to me to be his whole life.

Yet, even more so, I hope the gentleman will not bow to his desires, and more importantly, to some inconsiderate fan's pressure, and indeed listen to his specialist and physical therapist, and not make a serious error and jump the gun with this--otherwise he may well end up in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, later on down the road. A slipped disc is nothing to toy with..it can have a devistating effect on the nerves--those running from the back to the toes--not to mention on the spine itself.

Well, I'm sure he has the best wishes of most everyone, and certainly, he's getting good care.

Someone very recently suggested that I get rid of my cats...so I can not be tied down when I finally am able to find a new place to live--but I say....horse pucky.

After 48 years have having never been in love--or in fact, even kissed on the lips--by a man, I'm never going to have one rest his head on me, and gaze lovingly into my eyes--which my cats do, every single day! So I say, "pffft" to that suggestion.

The only "male" I'll ever have in my bed...and he's neutered:

_________________________________________________________________________________________

I got tagged to list my 10 New Year's resolutions...well, truthfully, I don't think I've ever gone the resolutions route...always seemed rather daft, to me. I mean, unless you've the "second-sight," who the heck can predict what the future will bring?

I've always thought New Year's resolutions a bit self-defeating, myself...only because it you don't--or cannot--meet the goals you've set for yourself, it only serves as a negative goad, not a positive one.

But, that said, I suppose there's a first time for everything. Thought these aren't "goals," so much as wistful wishes, I reckon--though I've made it five, 'cos I can't even begin to think of ten things, truth to tell:

1. New job--preferably one I'm good and and enjoy...but that remains to be seen.

2. New place to live--with my cats, of course, where I can enjoy my home, and not worry about the ne'er-do-wells in the building.

3. Try to care more about myself and/or my health

4. Spend more time doing some "serious" writing

5. Go visit mum's grave

I was reading where the place where I lived and worked 28 years ago, Yellowstone National Park, was hit by 250 earthquake tremmors over a period of three days.

Now, when I lived and worked there, there is a little place, not far from where I worked, right in front of Old Faithful geyser, that houses a seismograph. I remember every morning stopping by on my way to work, to look and see if there'd been any tremmors during the night--sometimes yes, sometimes no...Yellowstone Park of course, is extremely active, what with all the geysers, mudpots (pools of boiling mud), fumeroles (steam vents) and hot springs.

But, I have to say, 250 little earthquakes in three days, that's strange. Apparently it has the scientists and seizmologists (or however you spell that), stumped. Yellowstone had a major earthquake in the 1950's..it damaged buildings and cars, made the clock at the historic Old Faithful Inn (world's largest log cabin) stop working and broke the fireplace, changed the way some of the geysers and hot springs flowed and worked--some stopping altogether, and in some cases, changing the pressure and frequency of other geysers..including Old Faithful...and, sadly, the 50's earthquake killed 28 tourists, in the process.

Whether there's another big one on the way, is tough to say. The quakes have ranged from barely detectable, to a 3.8...which is close to a 4.0...when the damage starts.

The quakes are well away from Old Faithful, centred in the northwest end of the big Yellowstone Lake, which is some miles away from the national tourist attraction. Fortunately, it's winter tourist season, and there's few tourists and employees in the park at the moment, due to the holidays, and only a few of the park's buildings are open, at this time of year.

Scientists have speculated that it may be a developing fault, related to hydrothermal activity--there are hot springs located within the vast lake. One park ranger stationed at the north end of Yellowstone Lake, was said to have felt nine earthquakes in one day. Yet a park spokesperson has stated that "there doesn't seem to be anything to be alarmed about."

Yellowstone National Park is really the caldera of a volcano that errupted 70,000 years ago...basically, it's the whole in the ground left after a volcano blows out all of its magna at once....the big bang, if you will, and the reason it has so many hot springs and other geothermal activity, is because a pool of hot magma still sits about 10 miles underneath Yellowstone park.

Whether Yellowstone is getting ready for another big earthquake, or it's merely some kind of new fault, seems to be anyone's guess.

MAP OF THE YELLOWSTONE CALDERA--The activity is centred in the part of the lake nearest to the number "6" on the map.

YELLOWSTONE LAKE

HOT SPRING IN YELLOWSTONE LAKE

I've only just realized that today, 29th December, would have been my dad's 84th birthday.

Happy birthday dad, have a beer on me, cheers.

I've not been online a whole, whole lot the past few days, but that's fine, I do sometimes need to take a break from writing, so I don't get too stale or repetitive...although it may be too late for that, ha-ha.

I've been taking the doctor's advice and staying off the re-sprained foot for a few days--and likely will continue in that vein, until tomorrow night, when it's back to work for me. Normally I would have been working on my days off, to make up for having Thursday off, but since shank's mare is my main mode of transport, I decided that 2 or 4 hours loss of income next week, is a whole lot less painless than a loss of not being able to get around--particularly in light of the fact that I am on my own here, and have no one to do for me--the hell I went through trying to live my life normally while hobbling about on crutches in excruciating pain, that sheer feeling of helplessness that I had for a few weeks, when I first ripped my foot to shreads last year--despite the time that has since passed--is still very fresh in my memory, believe me. I really don't ever want to be in a place where I have to repeat that, again.

So, it's been a relaxing day for me here. I had a spot of stomach trouble yesterday, but it was much better today, thankfully, so I wasn't stuck in bed for the entire day. And, I had a amazing, gobsmacking surprise when I hobbled down to my mail box downstairs, to find that someone, bless them, had very thoughtfully, kindly and generously decided to surprise me (and boy did it ever) with Dr Who Series 4 DVD box set. It was, very literally, the absolute last thing I ever expected. It was something I have dearly longed for, but never thought I'd ever be able to have. I am still a bit gobsmacked by the whole thing, I have to tell you.

I've spent a part of the day, trying to figure out my budget for January...I'm really going to have to curb my supermarket shopping and other spending, until I know for sure whether I'm being laid off or not, and if I am, for how long. I really don't want to be without a weekly income for a few weeks, but there is a day labour place in the city--doesn't pay much--but I might be able to get some work here and there, doing cleaning and dishwashing, or whatever it takes. I learned the hard way not to be too picky about employment--just take whatever comes along--as long as it's practical, and I can actually do the work. It's not the best way to live, but then, I can't complain. I had my chance--twice in my lifetime, to change my life and do what I love--and both times, I blew it...once from merely being a young moron who was completely unprepared for what was thrust at me, the second time--well partly it as Bush's college financial aid cuts, and partly it was just adulthood--life if you will, getting in the way.

Now I'm back to swimming in the poo with the rest of the mundane's and that's that. End of story. And, a little over a year ago, I came to grips with that; I'm OK with it, and have completely accepted my fate...that's just the way life goes for millions of people, why should I be any different? It's not like I was born under a special star or have some hidden talent or something, for pity's sake.

It's a quiet night here in my city, and that's what I like, quiet nights--no screaming sirens, no car boom boxes...I was writing a bit-same thing I've been writing, Evil Waters...the Doctor repells the monster, but..then what? I was going to give the story a twist, and make the Doctor's "companion" (a one-off companion) not quite what he appears to be--but that was before I saw The Next Doctor, and now I have to make sure that I don't cross the line and be seen trying to copy RTD's work....very tricky that. Back when I'd only seen about 3 episodes of Series 1 with Eccleston, I wrote my first Who-fic...knew there was a new Doctor, seen maybe two photos of David Tennant--knew absolutely ZERO about Series 2..nothing whatsoever.

And, in my first story, It took place in Hollywood shortly after talking pictures came in--it was the 9th Doctor, Rose and..the return of Romana, with the addition of a cowboy actor/stunt man as a one-off companion as well.

Anyway, I had these energy creatures--sort of electrical balls of light, the size of a cricket ball, I think, who if memory serves me, could transform themselves into people...not sure, mind you, I haven't read the story since 2006..but anyway, these killed their victims--but basically sucking their faces off, leaving the victim faceless...I wrote that because I think I couldn't imagine anything more scary than losing your face...I was thinking, as I recall, about pictures I'd seen of soldiers in WWI, who'd essentially lost their faces, and how terrible that seemed to me. Well, about a month later, I was sent a copy of Idiot's Lantern, and then had to go and delete my story from the who-fic website where I'd posted it, because to me, the idea of plagarizing someone else's work, is a genuine abhorrence. I wouldn't ever, ever, ever, do that. And even tho' I didn't plagarize Idiot's Lantern--well, I couldn't could I have? Still, even the thought that someone might think I'd copied someone else's work, just is unbearable to me.

Anyway, chapter three of Evil Waters is slowing taking shape--it's nonsense of course, and not one of my better stories...I was tempted to do another Doctor/Donna story, simply because those are absolutely fun to write--but, decided to go with the flow of the current series and do a semi-companionless piece. It's not novel or script quality material, but...meh--it's something to do, isn't it?

I suppose I should get back into feature articles one day, that's really were my skills lie...but I don't really enjoy writing features all that much...and now that I'm pretty much living a static and mundane exisitance...what the hell do I have to write about? Before, I had a car, I could go around and find stories to write, people to interview...now??? Somehow, I don't think life as an old maid would really appeal to website or magazine publishers...certainly not to most readers--a story without sex or romance, violence or scandal, in this day and age? Would never sell.

Three things I could be with a little effort.

A story reader

A tour guide

A Dr Who extra (I had lots of practice sitting around waiting for hours, when I was mum's carer)

Three things I could potentially be, but it would be out of character.

A drunk

A book, theatre or film critic

A truck driver

Three things that I can never be.

A professional writer

A horsewoman

An actress or presenter

MOCK ENCHILADAS

1 pound ground beef (mince)
2 yellow onions, chopped
2 15 1/2 oz cans of kidney or pinto beans, drained
1/4 to 1 tablespoon of chilli powder
1/2 tsp salt
pinch cayenne pepper (optional)
1 regular size package of Frito's corn chips--or, 1/2 large bag of Nacho flavour Doritos
1/2 pound of cheddar cheese, shredded
2 tablespoons green onion tops, chopped (optional)

In a skillet, brown ground beef with onions, until meat is cooked and onions are soft. Drain off fat. Stir in beans, chilli powder to taste (more if you like it spicy, less if you like it mild), salt, and a small sprinkle of cayenne, if desired. Simmer over very low heat for 30 minutes. Heat oven to 250 degrees. In a greased casserole day, spread half of meat mixture on bottom dish. Top with a layer of Fritos or Doritos, and sprinkle with half the cheese. Repeat the process with the remaining meat, Fritos and cheese. Warm through in oven until cheese melts. If desired, top with green onions before placing in the oven. Serves up to 6 people.

MRS. SPIVEY'S CHICKEN DIVAN

1 10 oz. package of frozen chopped brocolli, cooked
2 firmly packed cups of cooked chicken or turkey, shredded into 2 to 3 inch pieces
2 12 1/2 oz cans cream of chicken soup
1 cup mayonnaise
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon curry powder
1/2 cup mild cheddar or colby cheese, grated
1/2 cup fine dry breadcrumbs
1 tablespoon melted butter

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees

Place a layer of broccolli in the bottom of a shallow, medium size greased casserole dish. Cover with chicken or turkey slices. In a bowl, combine soup with mayonnaise, lemon juice and curry powder. Pour over chicken. Sprinkle cheese over top. In a small bowl, combine bread crumbs with melted butter, until slightly moist. Sprinkle over cheese. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. If desired, may be be garnished with strips of pimento or diced fresh tomato.

NEW ENGLAND CHICKEN AND MASH

2 cups cooked chicken shredded
1 can chicken gravy
1 small can baby peas, drained (or, cup cooked fresh or frozen peas)
1 teaspoon onion powder or curry powder
2 cups hot mashed potatoes

In a saucepan, combine chicken, gravy, peas and either onion or curry powder, blending well, Heat through. Serve over hot cooked seasoned mashed potatoes.

...that some blog I began as merely an off-shoot of this one, as a response to upset comments by fan-girls, over cheeky posts I wrote, making fun of David Tennant's fame and fans...just this little nothing blog...only half-witted captions attached to photos of the actor...and suddenly, in the last couple of weeks, I've noticed that people all over the world, are searching Google, Aol, etc., for my specific blog, "Roasting David Tennant."

Usually, people come to my blogs from searches for all kinds of things...or from Google images. It's actually rather rare, for someone to specifically search for the name of one of my blogs. So, seeing that my blog is the search criteria on Feedjit, genuinely surprises me...this is a blog mind you, which until very recently, got only about 80 to 120 views a day. A drop in the bucket, when you think of all the tens of millions of internet users out there, on a daily basis. So, to have someone go out of his or her way, to look for my blog...seems a bit...weird. Not that I'm complaining about it, mind you. It's just a bit of an eyebrow raiser, when you stop to think how very obscure my blog--and myself--are.

"Thank goodnes Rent-A-Kilt had some formalwear in ma' size...should have gone commando though...this thong is chafing me."

So, many of us have been blessed to see The Next Doctor, now what?

I personally have been wondering for months, about the Doctor's next companion, but in a recent interview, RTD states that the Doctor will in fact, be companionless for the four one-hour specials filmed next year--but whether this includes Tennant's final bow as the Doctor, in the 2009 Christmas special, remains to be seen.

Since he has no say in who the next Doctor will be (he's done writing the programme in February, apparently), it's all in Moffatt's hands for 2010 and Series 5...but what will the specials bring us?

It's been hinted that Davies plans a shocker for fans...hopefully nothing so outrageous as to ruin one's suspension of disbelief...so far, he's not gone quite that route, thankfully.

However, I lost a lot of my trust in him, after series 4 episode 12 and its rather callously thought out "surprise" ending..it really upset and floored me, on a weekend when that was, emotionally, absolutely the last thing I needed (I was going through a rough patch that weekend dealing with some bad news, and also got 20 bills from my student lender in the post just that morning)...As most of you now, Dr Who has sort of been my life preserver, something positive to hold on to, when there was nothing else--and, what Davies did to the Doctor, it was such a huge negative emotional jolt, that for the first time in 25 years, it made me re-think how I felt about Dr Who and even caused me to stop writing fan-fiction, and watching it every day, for about four or five months--and yet, for all that, I still love Davie's writing, and can only hope he won't do another shocker, and kill the joy of Who for me, forever. Still, I've got the distinct impression that Davies doesn't really give a damn what us older fans think, and I have to say that I do find that worrysome, at times.

Anyway, moving away from my pathetic little angsts, what will the specials have in store for us? That's almost as closely gaurded as secret as what sort of toilet paper the Queen uses.

Aside from being companionless, supposedly the Doctor will also be Tardis-less for one episode--which if it is indeed being filmed in Tunisa, Spain, Las Vegas or wherever...would certainly make things easier, with one less prop to have to pack along. The rumour--and it is a rumour not a spoiler, is that the Doctor travels back to Galifrey before the Time War...which may make sense--in a way, all the people he will meet are dead in the present series' time. But...who knows?

It's all in Davies' capable hands at the moment...and dependant on whether Tennant's back injury heals speedily and properly...but I wouldn't rule out an appearence by the Daleks, at some point in 2009.

I just had an interesting e-mail sent to me. Someone apparently had read an old post about me horseshoe pitching, and wanted to know what I was talking about. Apparently in his or her part of the UK, they've never done that.

Here in the USA, it is in fact a sport. We have tournements, just like you lot have conker contests. My dad used to play in tourneys every year at the village's annual volunteer fireman's picnic. I wasn't allowed to play, because then...and even now, it's really considered a "butch" sport. Why, I have no idea. It's not as if a horseshoe weighs more than a ten-pin bowling ball..and it's perfectly acceptable for women to bowl.

When I had my caravan, the place where my trailer was installed was in the Adirondack mountains...so, bascially, my yard was full of sand and rocks and pine needles...sort of like a beach, but with Eastern White Pine trees, instead of an ocean...and sand spurs, lots of sand spurs...ouch. Think of little round balls about the size of the fingernail on your little finger..only kitted out with lots of hard, sharp spikes, like a mini-cactus. They weren't bad when they were young..but once the end of summer came and they dried out...it wasn't a fun experience pulling them out of your trainers and jeans, let me tell you!

Anyway, sandspurs and rocks aside, my tiny little yard wasn't good for much..except, that the sand, I discovered one year, made it super easy to make myself a regulation horseshoe pitch. Well, only one...it was just me, so I didn't need two..and, also, with my trailer only about 20 or 25 feet from state route 9-N, I deemed it not a very good idea to have a horseshoe pitch facing the road...horse shoes have a tendency to roll, end over end, and also, if you're careless or tired, and your aim is off, they can fly where you least want them to go. They're not overly heavy, but they can weigh up to 40 ounces (1.133980925 kilograms), so they're not exactly light as a feather, either.

So, one morning I went out in front of the trailer and dug myself a regulation pit, complete with proper sides and a proper spike in the centre. When the mood struck me, I'd go out there and pitch some horseshoes, until I got tired and started doing screwy throws, simply decided to quit. It was very relaxing, got me out into the fresh air...and, well, it was something to do, wasn't it?

Between that, and a dartboard I had attached to the back wall of the caravan, the hiking trail nearby and my bicycle, plus the three town beaches on a lake and river--one of which was just 1 mile away, and also the crazy golf place and local bowling alley--the latter two less than a 10 min. walk up the road...well, come summer I was laughing. Sure, most of the time, the cost of owning my own place kept me from doing the more interesting things up there: whitewater rafting, horseback riding, the amusement parks, etc. But, there was a free rodeo every Saturday night at one of the local dude ranches, and the drive-in cinema just a 20 minute drive away...so, life was good, come summer, in the area where I had my caravan.

The horseshoe pitch and the dartboard also came with one other benefit though: they helped me. No, really. I apparently was born with something called "developmental coordination disorder." Basically, my hand to eye coordination..well, all my coordination, completely sucks. Also, my eye disease has left me with hardly any perhepial vision. What the dartboard and the horsehoe pitch did, was help me to learn to compensate for that. I learned that I can look at things straight on, when I'm throwing them...but, have to move my hand either to the right or the left, or stand slightly differently, to put the object where I want it.

That's why my phys ed teachers always got exasperated with me, 'cos I couldn't do things right. It was in fact, one day while I was out "pitching," that I figured this out on my own. I found that if I did the the things the horseshoe pitching guide was telling me to do--my pitching actually got worse, 'cos of the way I was standing...I found that if I just concentrted on figuring out, where and how to hold my hand--and then not think about my hand, but just concentrate on the "target," that I would make a lot more hits than if I did it the "regulation" way. I think I might have unconciously done that back when I used to practice my roping (lassoeing), way back 25 or 30 years ago.

Here's the rules for horsehoe pitching:

The official horseshoe has a maximum length of 7 1/2 inches and width of 7 inches; the maximum weight is 2 1/2 pounds. Each tip of the shoe is rolled down to form a heel calk, and there is a similar toe calk on the bottom of the closed end. The calks must not extend more than 3/4 inches. The distance between the heel calks must not exceed 3 1/4 inches
The court is 50 feet long and 10 feet wide. The stakes are 40 feet apart (30 feet for women) and 1 inch in diameter and project 12 inches above the ground. They also lean forward 3 inches, away from the perpendicular, toward the pitcher.

In major matches, the first player to score 50 points wins the game. In less formal competition, 21 points is usually game. A match consists of 11 games in official tournaments, and of as many as 35 games in national or world championship tournaments.

Behind the scenes of The Next Doctor (part 1 only)

playwrite27 takes exception to the BBC's idea of a "lasso artist":

Sorry, but the BBC's "lasso artist" just made me laugh. He has to be from Spain or somewhere--he's no real cowboy, that's for sure...for the record, (after you see the video you'll know what I'm referring to)...it's not a "lass-sue" it's pronouced "lass-so" And, futthermore, REAL cowboys NEVER call it that--it's a "rope." It's called "roping," not "lassoing."

You don't lasso somthing, you "throw" your rope at whatever you're aiming at...just like throwing a ball over handed. You don't look anywhere but at the "target" and throw your arm towards it. I've never roped a calf or a steer..did catch a pony once though...and almost got dragged for my trouble. Real ropes (or lassoes, if you insist), are lightweight and stiff--a soft rope doesn't throw as well as a "hard" rope...professional "lassoes" come in different hardnesses and materials--some are natural hemp and some are manmade. The tiny loop, often protected by a piece of leather, which the rope slides through, is called a "honda," or a "hondo."

Morrissey did a crap job of rope throwing--but, he was working with a thicker, softer, and heavier rope than should be used, and he's English and an actor...so, I'll let it slide this time.

I was taught to throw a rope by a real cowboy/horse wrangler, whom I dated, and by an acquintance of mine at the time, a genuine cowgirl who was raised on a Montana ranch. In 1980, I came home from Wyoming with a rope that was given to me, and later bought a practice calf head (yes, cowboys have to practice their roping, just like any other "sport"), and spent time roping it..and tree stumps, chair backs, my dog--who didn't care for that, so I had to stop.

In an effort to boost its flagging ratings, the BBC has announced that David Tenannt is engaged...much to the surprise of Mr. Tennant. However, a fine-print clause in his contract has revealed that the BBC can tell people anything it wants about its performers and presenters, if it will boost viewer figures and generate more licensing fees.

To drive the public into watching BBC Three more often, the BBC plans on showing the advert below, each week on BBC 3--once a week removing one piece of the mystery-fiance's attire, eventually promising to reveal the identity of the lucky guy or gal, when that person becomes entirely naked..cumulating in the removal of his or her helmet.

Whether Tennant will actually go through with the engagement is unknown, because rumour has it the actor has fled to an undisclosed location in South America.

NOTE: This post was written as a gag, and is not truthful in any way, so stop crying, fan-girls!

I overslept this morning...didn't wake until nearly noon....but woke with a headache, cramps and quesy stomach...fear I may have caught the stomach bug that's going around, while in the waiting room of the local A&E yesterday.

so, just got e-mailed not one, not two, but THREE meme's from some person I've never heard of, called, "Massie." Well, won't do them all, but, since I'm too damn sick to blog about anything remotely interesting, for once I welcome the meme's, 'cos I'm bored and need something to do (other than lay in bed and moan, ha-ha.)

It's in the lower 40's F--quite warm for this time of year, and gray and dark out there, pouring rain, turning the mounds of snow into mounds of ice and forming deep puddles everywhere. Good day to stay in and schlep about the flat...in between trips to the loo, looks like.
________________________________________________________________________________
So onwards and upwards...heeeerrreee's meme!

1 What’s your first name?

Nancy

2 Children, pets, neither, or both?

Pets

3 Are you barefoot right now?

Nope, too chilly in here for that.

4 What’s your favorite animal?

Horse

5 Do you like country music?

In the 70's I did, but country music changed in the early 80's, after Urban Cowboy became popular...started sounding all the same--dance music...and it changed some more after the Gulf War and 9/11 and Bush era...and I've grown to dislike it throroughly...it's become too insincerely patriotic/reglious/syrupy for my tastes, and, it all more or less sounds the same to me, now...there's very little individuality to it, any longer. I mean, "She thinks my tractor is sexy?" That's worse than the 1970's song, "I don't like spiders and snakes."

6 Name one thing that’s happened in your life you wish you could change.

Ah, that would take too long to write about, and is far too deeply personal to discuss on a meme...and really, is not something I want to publicly discuss with total strangers, period.

7 If you could buy a friend one film on DVD, what would you buy them?

Oh, that's a tough question! We're talking out of thousands of DVD's! Well, it would depend on the friend, I suppose. I think I'd send something funny, a laugh is always good...maybe the orginal film of The Out of Towners, with Jack Lemon.

8 If you sent them something from your own DVD collection?

Well, Dr Who, I suppose...or, if you are still talking films: A Double Life with Ronald Coleman--brilliant! Or, The Magnificent Seven...fantastic western, with one of the best film scores ever. Or maybe: To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar...fun film, that.

9 Is there an umbrella close by you?

Nah, my front door is way on the other end of this screwy apartment.

10 Isn’t Winnie the Pooh AWESOME?

Erm--no...cute perhaps. Dr Who is AWESOME.

11 Do you believe in gay marriage?

Absolutely.

12 Have you ever been out of the country?

Yup.

13 Where’s your favorite places to buy clothes?

Kohl’s (when I had a car), Label Shopper, TJMax, Fashion Bug, Outlet Barn, Peter Harris (plus), K-mart, Tractor Supply Company, Walker's Farm Home and Tack (when I had a car), Carl Durfee's Store (ditto), completeoutfits.com, LL Bean, coldwatercreek.com, Bargain Box Consignment store

14 What’s the most recent CD you’ve bought?

Went to Borders and got The New Pornographers "Electric Version" CD, back in May.

15 Do you like to fish?

Yup, mum used to take me fishing all the time, when I was growing up...haven't done it in years, though.

16 What color are the walls of the room you are in?

Dirty White--they came with the aprtment, can't afford to paint.

17 Are you dating anyone?

Seriously? I haven't gone on an actual date since summer of 1997.

18 Do you ever want to get married?

Somehow I don't think that issue is ever going to come up.

19 How many pets do you have, if any?

Three

20 What’s your favorite wine?

I don't drink wine--simply because I'm not fond of the taste of alcohol...but I rather liked an Australian chardonnay I tried once, about five or six years ago.

21 Do you like candles?

Meh. Prefer potpourri, if I have to have scent wafting around in the flat.

22 Name one song that no matter how hard you try, you can’t get out of your head.

Not an issue at the moment, sorry.

23 What’s your favorite television advert?

I don't get television at home.

24 How long does it take you to get ready to go somewhere?

Depends on whether I'm going posh or not...generally, about 15 to 30 minutes, more or less. I can do it in 10 min, in a pinch.

25 Do you like to read?

One word: bookaholic.

26 How old are you feeling today?

58

27 Do you like dogs?

Very much

28 If you could live anywhere, where would it be?

Scotland, Wales or England.

29 When is the last time you colored in a coloring book?

A month or two ago, when I was sick in bed with the flu

30 Which football team do you support?

Yeah....none. The day I become a football fan, is the day they pronounce me in a coma.

31 Do you know anyone who is a Hannah Montana and/or Big Brother fan?

No, thank god.

32 Are you a funny person?

I like to think I have a sense of humour--but funny? No one's ever said anything to me on the subject, so I haven't a clue.

33 How do you feel about global warming?

It's important and we should pay attention to it, and try to be self-concious about our carbon footprint--but, on the other hand, I don't think our concern should be all-consuming, as there's plenty of other issues that need our attention, as well..such as other types of pollution, hunger, clean potable water, etc.

34 Favourite school courses you would like to take again?

Playwriting, Acting, western horsemanship or State and Local Government

35 How do you feel about your best friend?

She's fantastic, and I'm so blessed to have had the chance to know her.

36 Are you a hyperactive type of person?

I'm just the oppostie, I'm quite slow...I would probably drive hyperactive people nuts.

37 Do you believe that music is your life?

It's been a part of my life, certainly, but my life itself...no, not really.

38 Do you ever dance when no one’s looking?

Only rarely--my bad foot makes dancing a wee uncomfortable

39 Have you ever smoked before?

I tried chewing tobacco on a dare once, when I was 19...not one of the smarter things I've done.

40 Would you rather be called hot, cute or awesome?

None of the above, thanks.

41 Do you prefer ice cream or cake?

Ice cream

42 Have you ever been in serious trouble with your parents?

Yes.

43 Prefer to travel by bike or walk?

I used to ride my bike everywhere--and hike a lot as well...used to walk to work 3 miles a day as recent as 2006, but--walking is a bit of a chore now...slow and painful, and I haven't owned a bike in about five years... so neither, really. I still try to walk whenever I can, but find that I often must take a cab or bus it these days, unfortunately.

44 Do you believe in organized religion?

Yeah, sure. That said, I don't respect, and will never approve of, any religion that espouses hate and/or bigotry towards those who don't agree with their faith/beliefs.

45 Are you much more mature than those your own age?

Sometimes I feel like an old woman, and sometimes I act quite childish. But, I grew up around older people...actually didn't spend a lot of time with my peers as a teen, so I do relate better to older people, sometimes...but am I more mature than my peers? I have no idea.

You hear a lot in the news, about people losing their homes, because they cant' pay their mortgages.

Well, homeowners aren't the only one's suffering. There's millions more who are paying the price of the housing crisis--who don't even own a home. The silent suffering of renters isn't hardly making the news at all, because their suffering doesn't directly affect bankers and/or investors.

Yet, suffer they do. When a landlord or building owner, stops paying his or her bills, the people living in the building are the one's who get the eviction notice.

Banks, with their snouts throughly buried in the financial trough, are occupied with gobbling up all they can and not coming up for air! In so doing, theese finanical institutions are shoving paying renters out onto the street as fast as they can, so they can unload the building they've forclosed on, to get it off of their books. And, the bailout package for these banks--which ironically, the evictee's have helped pay for with their own tax money--makes NO provision to protect American citizens from the naked greed of these banks!

700 billion dollars might as well be ZERO dollars, when it comes to American tax-payers who rent, because they're not seeing any benefit of the bailout!

However, the US government run Fannie Mac programme, is changing its ways--renters living in buildings owned by Fannie Mac, will in future be allowed to sign new leases...it is hoped that the Freddie Mac programme will soon follow suit.

Yet, renters living in foreclosed buildings, not owned by these two lenders...are still out in the cold...in some cases, literally. And Secretary of the Treasury Paulson, the senators and Congreesmen, Bush and Obama--all seem to have no plans to help these people, who almost all contributed their taxes to bail out the banks that are evicting them.

People without homes--either their own, or as renters--do not contribute financially to the economy, as they only have the energy to find shelter, and have nothing to spare to buy goods and services...so, why are the politicians and the banks, asleep at the wheel over this? In one word: stupidity. That's the same stupidty that put us in this mess to begin with, by the way...the financial industry has learned very little from the recession, it seems.

Latest DT searches on Google--these are real searches, I'm not making any of them up, I swear. Poor wee lad must find it all a bit bewildering and bizzare...well, I know I would...but then, I don't think "nancy g nude" is ever going to come up on Google, ha-ha.

list of searches--- *(aside from all the inquiries as to the gentleman's back injury/surgery)

Does David Tennant have chest hair?
David ten-inch
David tennant engaged
David Tenannt gay
David tennant bum shots
david tennant house north london
david tennant penis photo (which leaves me to wonder: does the man's CV contain a glossy photo of his woo-hoo?)
david tennant naked, david tennant naked, david tennant naked, etc.
david tennant brand hair gel
david tennant nude, david tennant nude, david tennant nude etc...
billie and ten-inch
david tennant e-mail address
david tennant girlfriend
nun f_cking a vampire with a crucifix--okay, it's not about DT, just thought I had to share this one
David Tennant DEATH (???? Does this person know something I don't????)
david tennant topless pic
david tennant street address
david tennant fan fiction
david tennant porn scene (he's done porn--what a surprise)
david tennant hospital
david tennant angry
david tennant having sex (or, why not "david tennant having angry sex in hospital?"--goes with the porn scene, ey?)

In another clear-cut example of weight discrimination, New York's Gov. Patterson has proposed an "obesity tax," to be applied to beverges sold at grocers and other retailers, beverages which have a high sugar content--but New York voters from Democrats to republicans to independants, are all shouting "NO!" to the proposed new tax.

When it comes to beverages with a high sugar content, Sodas are the worst offenders--and Americans love their sodas! such as Royal Crown Cola, Coke-a-Cola, Pepsi, Gingerale, cream, chocolate, black cherry, orange, rootbeer, Dr Pepper, Mtn. Dew, Lemon-lime, grape sodas...and several other combinations, like grape or pomagrante gingerale, or wild-cherry Pepsi.

Other high content sugar drinks include: fruit beverages, such as lemonade, fruit punch (such as Hawaiian Punch or Minute Maid brands), Sunny Delight, apple juice, Hi-C (a sugar-laden fruity beverage in a number of different flavours), energy drinks like Red Bull, Chocolate or stawberry flavoured milk, and some brands of alcopops also would fall under this guideline---these all could, under Gov. Patterson's proposal, all cost much more, by having a "high sugar" or "obesity" tax added to them--products that often are already taxed.

Yes, one already pays tax on carbonated and alcoholic beverages---but most particually one pays more for sodas, which have a 5 cent deposit charge added to each and every bottle sold--so if you buy a 12 pack of soda in New York today, you are paying a local 6 to 8 percent sales tax, a 7 percent state sales tax, AND an additional 60 cents deposit...and then Patterson, during a RECESSION, wants to add MORE tax on the cost of carbonated beverages?

I mean, yes, weight is a problem--buy why call it an "obesity" tax??? If you want to pass a new tax, why in God's name put a NEGATIVE name on it--would you put a "gay" tax on condoms, for pity's sake? Than why name a law that reflects negativity on a large swath of the population of New York? Why for pete's sake, didn't Patterson name it what it is? A "high-sugar" tax? Stupid git. It's not his fault he's governor, but in one of America's highest taxed states, in the middle of a recession, in a state with a lot of "obese" people...what the hell is this joker thinking off?

NY Gov. Patterson:

I didn't date much in high school, probably only three dates in four years. But, I do remember my first high school dance---my first dance with a boy...danced to a song by Toto, and this song--which I still LOVE to dance to..well, if you can call what I do, dancing....

I've never gone out on New Year's eve, not once in 48 years--tho' I did take in a film at the cinema a few times in the far-distant past, on New Year's day.

This year's no exception. I've got an evening gown, but nowhere to wear it...hell, I can't dance a lick, anyway...unless it's disco, ha-ha...then that gets reaaaallly scary! When I do a conga line, now there's a nightmare.

But, I did get some nibbles in for New Year's eve...went to the discount grocers and got a box of TGI Friday's frozen buffalo wings--they're rubbish, more fat than meat...but cheaper than buying them from the takeaway. I got some smoked salmon and cream cheese puff pastries that you bake in the cooker, that were on sale, four for 99 cents. I bought a bottle of bleu cheese salad dressing, and am going to make carrot sticks to dip into the dressing, and I'll make a nice little macaroni, tunafish, onion and mayonasise salad...put on some disco and have my own little party, just me and the cats...charlie does love to boogie down.

New year's day, I'm making rogan josh, with punjab eggplant and rice pilaf. Yummy!

So, put the ornaments away--picked up a few for half-price this weekend--they had loads of cool Christms stuff on sale for half price, and had I been more solvent, I probably would have bought a couple of shopping bag's worth...but I have to mind my money for a while, until I know about the layoff. I only had 20 to spend, so I settled for spending my end-of-the-month $20 spending money, on some junk food at Arby's and Taco Bell and a few ornaments for the tree next year. I was going to shop for clothes, but found no true bargains--fake 60% off sales...the prices are 20 percent off...and supposedly the clothes were already reduced 40%...tho' most clothing was still over $25 to $50, so not really a "bargain"...to me, it's not cheap unless it's under 20 dollars. I suppose some people might have fallen for it, though.

End of January, early February, I'll have my tax money, and there's usually good sales during tax refund season...real bargains, not se.

Anyway, taking down the tree tonight--was going to do it tomorrow, but it's so dreary out there of late--fog and gray rainy skies, that I would like the table lamp back on...which the tree replaced on the end table.

Flamey is sitting on the arm of my chair, strecthing out her arm and waving her paw in my face, she's also trying to touch my chin with it, and grabbing my arm. It's really a wee too early for her dinner, but I'll see what I can rustle up for her in the way of feline grub, in a few minutes.

I really enjoyed the Dr Who special. Still a bit put out with David Tennant's ill-thought out joke, but I'm not one to hold a grudge...for long.

So, yeah, did re-sprain the ankle, but it's not fractured or broken, and not a serious sprain--well, it's actually permanently sprained anyway...just re-injured the old injury slightly, when I fell. I e-mailed the managers (slum lords) and told them about the situation...hopefully they will be decent and get a man in to remove that whopping big mound of ice and hardpacked snow from the bottom of the steps, before I seriously hurt myself. Not thrilled about the loss of funds from next week's pay, for having to miss work, though. I wasn't going to go, but while the swelling went down, the foot didn't feel "right," so I thought I'd err on the side of caution--I've actually had a couple of previous small fractures--ankle and kneecap, without ever knowing I'd broken anything, until they gave me grief later.

I was talking to a friend online about one of the dogs I had as a teenager. There was my half-collie, Shamrock...and there was her mum, a black lab mixed breed--the vet seemed to be of the opinion that she was a cross of a black lab and a golden retreiver. She was a stray we adopted--or adopted us...she actually did "follow us home."

Happy was her name--'cos she was always wagging her tail. She was a loving and gentle soul--she was also very playful and extremely cheeky. In 1975, she mated with an AKC registered collie dog from down in the village, which belonged to a friend of my sister's, called "tonka"--but whom I nick named 'Sam' for some reason...and I got Shamrock...one of the best "gifts" that I ever got, in my humble opinion.

Anyway, Happy's brain wasn't the sharpest tool in the canine toolbox. One time the two dogs and myself were running through the little pine grove behind my childhood home, and Hap was out in front...I called to her, "Hey Happy!" She turned her head--still running flat out...and KONK...right into a pine tree. She staggered a bit for a few seconds, but was fine..really. I hugged her and commisterated with her--after I picked myself off of the pine-needle strewn floor, wiped the tears from my eyes...and stopped laughing uncontrollably.

I'm listening to music from my teen years to make me feel better...like this, from when I was around 15 years old--I clearly remember this particular song blaring out on the riding stable's radio, and me and a girlfriend from school, standing in the stable aisle among the hay bales and pitchforks, disco dancing and giggling like mad:

For the record, NONE of my posts was ever "acting." Everything personal that I write, is from my heart and soul, as honest as I can make it.

Am I overly melodramtic? I don't know. Maybe it's the bi-polar in me. I imagine that toyboat has never lost a loved one, a home, possession, has never hurt so much inside himself, to the point where death seems like a blessed release. Toyboat is shallow and is afriad of something--not sure what, but he's overcompensating by hurting innocent people he doesn't even know--nor, does he have the manliness to even give his real name when he does--like a masked terroist with a verbal bomb...afraid to let people see who he really is.

But, aren't we all afraid of that, in a way? Surely none of us show ourselves completely on our blogs. Toyboy is a small person, terrified of what he is, he feels helpless, and lashes out at me--someone he doesn't even know--because it makes him feel better about himself.

I hope I never get that bad. I still hate toyboat's guts--which makes one wonder, why some person goes around, WANTING people to hate them? Isn't there enough hate and bigotry out there? Guess not, with little wankers like toyboat out there, spreading it around some more.
But, now that I've calmed down--been one hell of a day...I was in A&E for five hours, just waiting for them to x-ray my ankle--just another sprain...going to limp and be in pain more than usual for the next week or so, but thank goodness, nothing broken this time, and the sprain doesn't even require a crutch.

Still, it's been a crap day. I just lost 4 HOURS pay, sitting around the ER. Then, I get in one hour of work--and call American golfers, the most falsely superior and churlish "men" on the planet...then come home to toyboat's bullshite comment about my writing and my blog.

If toyboat had offered CONSTRUCTIVE criticism of my blog/writing, I would have been appreciative of that and thanked him rather than tell him what a piece of human rubbish he is.

Instead, he deliberately choose to go the low--as in the sewers---DESTRUCTIVE route, and be a loser. Don't I have enough in-bred prigs to deal with where I live, without them coming onto my blog?

I've had total strangers go out of their way to hurt me for the last 40 years...from a pedophile to Toyboat--who may be a pedo, for all I know...I'm just a walking target--thankfully, I'm not like that loser Toyboat.

This pig is a blog terrorist. He is a coward and a walking ball sack who likes to go around hurting women. He is just plain scum.

Got this response from some donkey's backsides---wow, that's the way to make a bipolar person in depression feel better, ey?

Toyboat is a stinking yobbo. He hurts women because he's POWERLESS and a LOSER, and this is the ONLY way the poor pathetic WEE man can feel good about himself.

Penis shrinkage? Probably.

I HATE human beings, I have to put up with you assholes on the phones all fucking day long, ABUSING me, like the pieces of shite cowards you are--only because you can't see my face. now I have to get fucking ABUSE on my blog as well.

I HATE YOU TOYBOAT--I ASSUME YOU WANTED ME TO HATE YOU...WHY YOU WANT A TOTAL STRANGER TO HATE YOUR GUTS IS BEYOND ME, BUT IT WORKED. IF YOU WANTED ME TO THINK YOU ARE A TINY LITTLE SACK OF PUSS, AGREE WITH YOU, YOU ARE A VERY TINY LITTLE SACK OF PUSS.

I HOPE YOU HAVE THE WORST FUCKING NEW YEAR OF YOUR ENTIRE DULL TINY HELPLESS LITTLE LIFE.

Author: goturnumber (IP: 75.168.250.160, 75-168-250-160.mpls.qwest.net)Email: toyboat@yahoo.comUrl: Comment: It would seem your blog is an exercise in drama and acting. I think 2 plus 2 starts to equal 5 when you read it and some of the posts begin to lack credibility. There are just too many things wrong. If this is truly your life then I am sorry but it's tough to buy. You have writing talent but use it to manipulate others.

Well, I just tried to put my shoe on this morning...no go. I'd slipped on the ice with my lame foot last night--and, it didn't hurt any more than it usually does, but it did swell up last night, so I did the usual ice pack/elevation thing..thought it was fine...but just realized that it really is badly swollen---it's hard to tell you see, 'cos the foot is forever deformed from the injury last year, so unless it's seriously puffed up, or until I try to put a shoe on, I can't always tell.

It's strange, though. Other than being a bit more achey than usual...which could merely be arthritis, it doesn't hurt too bad...dunno', but I've rung up work and left a message that I'm going to the health centre to have it looked at, as a precation. That's one part of my body I don't mess around with--I was told if I got another bad sprain/tear there, I'd never walk on it again. I generally tended to dismiss any pain or swelling when I was younger, then I paid the price as I got past 30--I pay attention now, you can be sure.

What is your occupation?

Just a lowly telemarketer. I basically get paid for pissing people off.

>
>When was the last time you cried?

Christmas eve...missing my mum.

>What are you afraid of?

Homelessness, spiders, fire, lightning, certain reality programmes...very scary stuff

>Do you like banana sandwiches?

Actually no, I'm not overly fond of bananas.

>What are you listening to right now?

Cars swoshing by on Glen Street, and I just put in my proclaimers CD--"Letter from America."
>
>What was the last thing you ate?

Haven't had breakfast yet, so I suppose that would be the tuna salad and mayonnaise sandwich last night, which I had with a packet of Goodman's chicken noodle soup that I made on the cooker.

>Do you wish on stars?

No, don't think I ever have, but I suppose I might have when I was a child...I dunno'.
>
>If you were a color, what would you be?

Blue, I am blue....I have to work a full shift today, and I'm bloomin' tired as hell.

>What is the weather right now?

Dreary, gray, foggy, with a spot of rain, by the looks of it...we had a blizzard last weekend that dumped 8 inches of new snow on us..now, rain. Wish the weather would make up its mind.

Last person you spoke to on the phone?

The cab company last night.

Last time you had a haircut?

Back in May. I finally sort of have the funds to go, but just haven't gotten 'round to it yet. Suppose I should, I reckon...I am starting to look like an un-curried Shetland pony again.

>How old are you today?

48 going on 110, ha-ha.

Do you have a celebrity crush?

Not since MacGyver (Richard Dean Anderson) lost his mullet and duct tape, and started jumping through Stargates.

>Do you wear contacts, or glasses?

Well, I've become extremely near-sighted, and am losing my sight in my right eye, sort of, so if I didn't wear my glasses I'd not be able to do much of anything, 'cos I wouldn't be able to flippin' see!

>Favorite month?

I've always been rather fond of October...although May is a really lovely month, as well.

Last DVD you watched?

Primeval, 1st series, which a friend sent me for Christmas, bless her.

>Favorite television programme of all time?

Dr Who, what else?

>What do you do to vent anger and/or frustration?

I blog about it.

>What was your favourite playtime actitivity as a child?

Playing cowboys and indians

What was your favourite outdoor activity as a child?

Well, there was this a small private lake owned partly by our village, just up the hill from us, off the 378 motorway, and we used to go fishing and take out rowboats, and also they had a private beach for village residents, which always smelled of pine trees in the sunshine, and had lots of black ants and snail shells in the sand, as I recall. So I used to go there quite a lot--sometimes with mum, sometimes with my sister and other kids from our street, and I have to say that I always had a great time there.

>Cherry or lemon sweets?

Cherry

Most magnificent artwork you've ever personally seen?

You know, I never paid much mind to Rembrant--I lean more towards Vermeer, but then I stood in front of his Nightwatch painting at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, and was just standing there in front of it, absolutely struck dumb...swore those guys were going to come to life and just step right out of the painting--amazing!

Besides doing this meme, what else are you doing right now?

trying to type around Flame, who is sitting in my lap, in front of the keyboard.

Last time you ate at a food chain resturant, where did you go, and what did you order?

I ate at Arby's yesterday afternoon, had the $3 special meal deal--little BBQ roastbeef sandwich and some seasoned curly fries.

>What is on the floor of your closet?

Which one? I have two--here in the living room, some empty boxes and my shoes.
>
>What is the oldest article of clothing you presently own?

I was wearing it yesterday, a grey and pastel sweater (jumper) that has a floral motif. Getting a hole in one shoulder, but still looks nice on me...had it for over 20 years..so don't dis K-mart, some of their clothes have outlasted the posher brands! (walmart is rubbish though, their clothes don't last 6 months, sometimes)

>Plain, cheese or spicy hamburger?

cheeseburger...with fried onions and ketchup

>Favorite car?

vintage chevy pick up truck

>Favorite dog breed?

long-coated collies! (like Lassie)

>Number of keys on your key ring?

Just the two apartment keys

>How many years at your current job?

2+

>How many states have you lived in?

2

>How many cities have you lived in?

this is the first time I've ever lived in a city--always lived in a small town, the country or the suburbs.

>How are you dressed?

jeans, socks, navy blue sweatshirt with a hunter/jumper horse on it.

>How many countries have you traveled to?

3

>When is your Birthday?

End of October

What did you do last night?

That's rather personal, isn't it? Well, not for me I suppose. Alright, so I worked, went to the mall, paid a bill, came home, had dinner, watched a DVD, tried to blog but couldn't--until late when I wrote a rather more depressing entry than I'd planned on, then tried to access my hotmail account but couldn't, wrote a new paragraph for Chap. 4 of my Dr Who-fic story, posted an entry to Roasting David (Tennant), fed the cats, took a shower, roundly cursed the boys upstairs for playing what suspiciously sounded like a basketball game in their aprtment at half-past midnight, read a bit, went to sleep.

Oh, it was splendid. The acting was simply incredible, the story exceptional. Really worth waiting for, bless. Me happy.

At first, when I lost all, over and over, barely done with one grief or trouble, when another would happen upon me...I was in denial.

For days after mum died, everything seemed unreal...until the day in November, when I stood in the mud and dying grass of the cemetery, and saw the casket lowered into the grave. Then, for weeks after leaving school, I was in denial that I wouldn't find a job right away. I felt sure that a good job was just around the corner...that I'd be able to fix the furnace, pay for the funeral expenses (and a marker for mum), pay the mortgage on our caravan, have a career with a future, doing something I enjoyed--or at least was half-way decent at, and had a self-sustaining pay and benefits....yeah...not quite. Yeah, I went from applying for jobs as librarians and copy editors, radio assistants and assistant historians, to office clerk and sales clerk jobs...to finally, cleaning loos at roadside rest areas, making beds in hotels and flipping burgers at McDonalds. Took me nearly a whole month and hundreds of CV's and job applications, to stop the denial and get over being scared and face reality.

Yeah, everytime something bad happened, I would spend time in naked hope, denying the pain and grief and fear. Then, I'd stare my fear in the face and work like hell to survive yet another crisis.

And so it's gone, ever since...until last winter. Everyone has their limits, and, hell, I'd surpassed mine long ago, truth-to-tell...I was just too thick to realize it...in denial again, I suppose. But, I lost my denial forever..and my hope..got so I hated the "H" word, despaired of the words, "Maybe things will get better." I looked at my less-than-attractive self in the mirror...and knew I couldn't deny anything, any longer. I had become, everything I'd tried all my life to avoid becoming...and what's left to say, when you discover that rather nasty little truth?

Anyway, I upped and decided that I was going to keep my fighting for survival...by keeping my denials, my hopes--in fact, all thoughts of my future, to a minimum. For, I realized that it wouldn't take but one more disaster...or even near-disaster, to push me right over the edge. But, if I kept my head down, if I simply accepted the bad, kept my struggles to survive to a minimum, then I figured I might have a chance of at least exisitng on a reasonably safe place inside of me, that this lowering of my sights and accepting whatever realities crossed my path, I could managed to get by.

But, it's 2009. Thirty years ago, I was in my 4th year of high school, ready to take on my dreams and the world at large...little knowing that my dreams would wobble and that the world would open up for me, one day...beginning with a solo trip to the very literal wilderness of Wyoming, just a little over one year later...for a young person who'd never been more than a few hundred miles from home in her lifetime...like my first trip out of the US, to Europe, 21 years after that, it would indeed change me.

I cannot help but be curious, as to what 2009 will hold in store for me. 1979 was a wonderful year, for the most part. 1989, was also not too bad...tho' I never was terribly fond of the 1980's...for me, it was mostly an incredibly dull decade, beginning with some massive life changes, and ending on a bland note.

Our hearts and our minds are our guides in life. We can bow to outside influences, surely. But...I was always an obstinate sort, and always preferred to make my own paths to follow...didn't make me very popular with my peers, and sometimes...well, oftimes, the object of ridicule...still, somehow I always seemed to be following a different tune, then the rest of the people around me. I mean, I liked listening to the Bee Gee's, Boston and Aerosmith...but I loved listening to John Denver, Bread and Jean Redpath. I enjoyed shopping at the local shopping centre with mum, or horseback riding with a friend, but I adored being out exploring the woods with my dogs, or reading Emerson and Cowper. My peers..and some of the neighbours I suspect, thought I was odd. And, I suppose I was, really.

But, getting back to the subject at hand...I wonder, will I continue to go on as I am, forever in this vein, till the day I die? Is this all there is, and all there ever will be? Have I lost all love of life, and now just am waiting to die? Or, will life find me again, and lift me up enough to get me motivated to carry on again?

I dunno'. The person I was is mostly gone. I'm a shell of myself...yet a part of me still remains..maybe it just needs a really good catalyst, to get me looking--and moving--forward again...bascially, a combination of a good kick in the bottom, a warm hug and someone wanting/needing me for something.

Will that actually happen? I'd personally not place any bets at the local OTB palor on it, but...who knows?

I came home for my long lunch break, only to find I can't access my hotmail account. Ah, well. No post today...well, usually it's just bills I may or may not be able to pay, and junk mail, so no worries there.

So, I'm off again, was going to eat but not hungry, so I'll take a pass. Got to get some shopping done, before heading back to the office. God, people across America were a right bunch of impolite boors today. Or is that boars? Hogs, is well more like it. Had some old fart named Ladd in California, get all hot and bothered 'cos I was merely telling him about his membership benefits, and an offer the club had--wasn't doing a hard sell, mind you, I was just telling him about it, FYI sort of thing--the nutjob got all snarky, starts foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, and says he's hanging up on me 'cos he's 76 years old and he doesn't have to "put up" with this.

With this what???? I was being Doris bloody Day, for cripe's sake! I couldn't have been any more softer or polite, and was not in the least being pushy. I don't like pushy, quite frankly, in any way shape or form. It's just not my style.

And what's with this "I'm 76 years old," shite? I got news for the git, I'd only just spoken to an 86 year old (and much more civilized) woman--she's 10 years on him! So, la-de-da-da, you old fart. Sod off then, and thanks for slamming the phone down and hurting my eardrum--hope you broke your phone, ya' little ungentlemanly pissant.

Then some stupid American woman from Minnesota, starts ranting to me about how much she hates the club, blah-blah-blah...won't even let me talk, to even say I'm blinking sorry, or to thank her for trying the club or anything...and, since she wasn't letting me talk, I decided to just say thank you anyway, and happy new year--but only got as far as thank you and happy new...before she--still ranting--slammed the phone down. So, maybe she won't have a happy new year...serve the witch right, too, if she can't behave in a civilized fashion.

Unfortunately, people like me are on the front lines, and when people are pissed off at the club, or at their boss, their wife/hubby, the economy, are sick, etc....they take it out on total strangers who call them...because we're EASY targets...and Americans being these days, some of the laziest, dumbest people on the entire planet...what else is new?

Yes, this morning I did get to watch a bit of the Next Doctor--about half way through, hoo-ray.

It's fantastic, worth waitng for--and, apparently, David Tennant did fib a little to the press. God, what a liar, the jerk. Thanks for upsetting my holiday, ya' stinking trendy London celebrity airhead.

Yes, I still think what DT did was a completely rubbish thing to do, and I still think he's an adolecent jerk for doing it. And, okay, I still also think he's a brillant actor...but also, one big oversexed adolecent Scottish jerk. He's welcome to argue the point with me, but the fan-girls can go hop it.

It's Boxing Day for many of my friends and visitors...alas, for us Yanks, it's just another day.

Well, I made it through Christmas eve...and a very dark one it was for me, too. I've heard tell that grief heals with time...well, apparently not. This year proved to be worse than most, the night before Christmas. 'Fraid my blog posts of the 24th weren't very cheery. I couldn't even bring myself to listen to Christmas music.

But, I woke Christmas morning feeling a bit better--and, spent the afternoon into the evening, chatting with friends far-away. I was still spending Christmas physcially alone, yes--but for the first time since 2004, I was also spending it "talking" to another human being(s), via private chat. And to those friends, I give my warmest thanks, for making what is usually a long day, that much shorter with the pleasure of their company. Thank you for allowing me into your lives on Christmas day.

It's clear and chilly this morning. Not as cold as it was, but I've ice to contend with walking, and what with my bad foot, I always get nervous walking--one more bad fall on it, and I very much might never walk again...I got off lucky with just a painful limp, last time. Yeah, walking on ice doesn't just make me nearvious...it sort of scares me. All I have left to me these days, is my oft-times nebulous independence. To end up in a wheelchair, or permanantely on crutches...all on my own...doesn't bear thinking off.

Anyway, long day for me. Haven't had time to even check my e-mails yet. Have to work two different shifts today, day and night, to make up for having Christmas day off...bah-humbug and all that rubbish. Have a good day all

It rained yesterday, a light misty rain. It froze later. Tonight, under the harsh unforgiving orange glare of the street lamp, the ends of the branches of the maple tree out front, seem like skeletal fingers, reaching out, weary from the grave, for just one more taste of the warmth of a royal sun, which no longer has the power to grant them such boon. The sunshine is a kindly king in decline, and winter the cruel prince, ascending his icy throne.

God, that was sappy! OK, less poetic version: It's icy as hell out there, and colder than satan's balls.

Notes: double check a couple of spellings, re-check grammar again...probably missed some quote marks and other stupid errors.

Stupid openoffice software messed up the paragraphs again, go in and re-do them!

Also: re-write chase? More atmosphere? Re-write chap. 3...too plodding? Too much exposition?

_________________________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER ONE

Bertha and Harry Twobigg were sitting beside the placid canal, fishing lines dangling in the water. “What I don’t understand, Harry,” said Bertha between mouthfuls of a cheese and pickle sandwich, “is why you sold the boat.” Harry took an unlit pipe out of his mouth, looked at his slightly rotund wife, and replied, “Weren’t catchin’ no fish.” Bert snorted, casting a wry glance at her chubby husband’s fishing creel, which was sitting beside him, filled with bottles of ale. “Well, ya’ aren’t doin’ that now, either.” She shook her head, at him and added, “I don’t figure you, Harry.”

Harry gave her a blank look, “What’s that dear?” Bert sighed. “You buy a boat so you can fish right out in the middle of the canal, and then spend your all your time out there, casting your line towards the berm. Then, you sell the boat, and now all you do is sit on the berm, casting your line towards the middle of the canal. It don’t make sense!” Harry merely grunted, and slipped his pipe back into his mouth, muttering, “If you were a fisherman, it would make perfect sense to you, sweetheart.” His wife snorted, “Oh sure, Harry. The day you catch somethin’ big in there, will be the day that some alien will fall out of the sky and land smack in your lap.”

Suddenly, Harry felt his line jerk. His eyes popped open with surprise. “Well dear,” he told his wife with a happy grin, “looks like we might be havin’ some fish with our tea, after all.” Suddenly, Harry was almost yanked off his feet, as the line dipped deep below the surface of the water. Then, Bert looked on in amazement, as the surface of the water began to bubble and roil. Harry pulled back on his line with all his might, leaning way back, as the pole bent almost double. “’ere now, help me woman!” He gasped. “Don’t wanna’ lose ‘im, do we?” But, just as Bert went to reach for the pole, Harry cried out, and was abruptly dragged into the canal.

Bert screamed as Harry thrashed about, sputtering and waving his hands in the water—then, he went under, and was gone. His wife leaned over the edge of the canal bank, whimpering his name. There was one last big bubble that came to the surface, this time with a deep crimson tinge to it…and then the water became dead still. Bert sat down on the edge of the berm, looking out into space, her face white with shock.

A few moments later, a dark, oily looking blob, shot out of the water, and landed on her ample lap with a squishy plop. The middle aged woman stared down at the horror. It was almost like a cross between an octopus and a squid. It had a round body, slightly smaller than a football, and short little tentacles that seemed to end in miniature hands. It was coal-black, and slimy cold. Bert was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t speak or move. Then, the thing opened it’s single eye, glaring at her malevolently. Bert screamed again, a terrified high pitched shriek, which was cut off abruptly, followed by a tremendous splash. . The crows in the trees behind her, croaked in protest, flapping heavily away, as the woman’s arm slowly sank beneath the surface of the canal.

The canal path was quiet in the late afternoon. It was slightly overcast, and a faint breeze stirred the trees. The narrow boats tied up near the edge of town rocked gently in the water. Just then, the peaceful scene was marred by a wheezing and groaning sound, like a metal file being run back and forth over some piano strings. An old blue police box appeared beneath some trees. The door opened with a creak of protest, and a young man with mussy hair, wearing a long brown coat and burgundy trainers appeared.

Closing the Tardis door behind him, the Doctor stood and sniffed, gazing about. “You there!” A gruff loud voice behind him bellowed. The Doctor whirled around, astonished. “Who me?” He said, with wide-eyed innocence, pointing at himself. The man he faced was a young and burly looking bobby. He was accompanied by another policeman, wearing a safety vest and cycling helmet, astride a mountain bike. “Don’t see anyone else about, do you sir?” The Doctor raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the two policemen. The officer with the bicycle sighed. “Besides the two of us, he means sir.” The Doctor took a moment to glance around. “Erm—no, but, is anybody really here?

The burly policeman narrowed his eyes. “Two people, a man and wife, disappeared yesterday. An hour ago, someone found a piece of bloody clothing belonging to the husband, floating in the canal.” He looked pointedly at the Doctor. “Are you carrying any weapons, sir?” The Doctor raised his other eyebrow. “Just my mind—and, my words. A good friend of mine once said that ‘words are loaded pistols..” He said quietly. The policeman snorted. “Words, a weapon?” He looked at his mate and murmured, “better check with the mental hospital, and see if anyone’s turned up missin’.” The bicycle officer turned aside and quietly spoke into his radio. The burly young officer turned back to the Doctor and smiled politely, “I see then sir, soo—you think you can harm people with words?”

The Doctor caught the word ‘missing,’ and becamesuddenly serious, “Have others gone missing then? When was this?” The policeman seemed skeptical. “You mean you don’t know, sir? It’s been all over the tele and the papers this morning. Where have you been? And, while we’re at it, just what were you doing in the old police box, over there? Maybe we should take a look, yeah? What do you say?”

The Doctor didn’t like the turn of the conversation. He glanced worriedly at the Tardis. The Doctor preferred to keep a low profile and he knew that wouldn’t last long, if either of the policemen got a look inside. On sudden inspiration, his hand dived into his coat pocket for his physic paper. Alarmed by the sudden movement, the policeman reached for his pepper spray and sprayed the Doctor full in the face. The Doctor merely sneezed. “Oh, that cleared the ol’ sinues, thanks…” but then fell over, having been given a sharp rap on the head with the other officer’s baton. The two officers looked down at the unconscious Doctor, the big young officer nodded to his partner, “You’d better call in for the van.”

CHAPTER TWO

The officer with the mountain bike was speaking into his radio, when a strange buzzing noise sounded, and the transmission went dead. The two officers looked at each other with puzzled expressions, and then down at their prisoner. The man was fully conscious and sitting up, holding out a device rather like a thick pen, with a blue glowing tip instead of a ball point. He grinned cheerily at them, and then he said, “Not that I wouldn’t like a tour of your police station, constable, but you now how it is; places to go, things to see, planets to save…” Then, without further preamble he sprang up and took off down the canal path. With twin shouts to halt, the two officers hotfooted it after the Doctor.

As he ran, the Doctor spied a bicycle lying against a tree near the canal, which one of the narrowboat owners had just left. Grabbing the bike, the Doctor climbed on and began peddling for all he was worth. The policeman on the mountain bike pedaled furiously after him. Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder, the Doctor noted that the man was gaining on him, then he looked forward again—almost too late, as a jogger with a big dog on a lead came at him down the narrow path. The Doctor had no choice but to slow down, having no desire to injure an innocent person.

The policeman was just a hair’s breath behind, reaching out with one hand to grab the flying tails of the Doctor’s coat, when a bridge loomed up on the left, the doctor quickly rode across the bridge, and onto the pavement of the town. Pedaling back towards the direction he’d come from, the Doctor dodged moving cars, shoppers and strollers, still with the policeman hot on his coat-tails.

Just then, a police car, lights flashing and siren wailing, pulled out from a cross street, blocking the Doctor’s path. Without hesitation, the Time Lord hung a hard right into a narrow alleyway. Which, as it happened, turned out to be a dead-end. The Doctor, breathing heavily, whinged, “Oh, now that’s just not fair!” Then, he noticed a fire escape on the left side of a crumbling brick wall. It was blocked off by a wire gate, and lot of the steps on the bottom half were missing, but it seemed to be the only way out.

The policeman on the bike turned into the alley, and saw his suspect leaping over the short gate and shimmying up the thin edge of the fire escape, on the edge of the former step supports, only an inch or two wide. The Doctor, using the handrail as a support, did his impression of a highwire act, quickly but carefully placing one foot in front of the other, inching his way towards the crumbling iron platform halfway up the side of the building.

Ditching his bicycle, the policeman cursed under his breath, and followed the Doctor. Gaining the platform, the Doctor used his long legs to their full advantage, running up the rest of the staircase to the top of the building. He’d just reached the top of the old fire escape, when with a metallic groan of protest, the step gave way!

For a long few seconds, the Doctor hung there in space, his burgundy trainers dangling in the air, coat-tails fluttering in the breeze. Three stories below him was a strip of concrete pavement, littered with broken glass, bits of discarded machinery and other rubbish.

Then, the Doctor got a better grip with his fingers on the edge of the building, and with a mighty heave, flung himself onto the roof, rolling away from the edge. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, and giving a sigh of relief. The Doctor didn’t dawdle though. He quickly sprang up, and was off again, dashing across to the other side of the roof.

The next building over was adjoining the roof, so it was only a matter of jumping down a meter or so, to the next roof. Below him, the Doctor caught a glimpse of policemen and pedestrians, staring up at him, gesticulating excitedly. He ran from roof to roof for a few minutes, then…ran out of roof.

The Doctor looked down, worried, as there seemed to be no way off the roof of the last building on that particular row. There was no door and no ladder. The police were closing in on him again. Just then, a tractor hauling a trailer piled high with hay slowly rumbled by on the street below, and taking a deep breath, the Doctor jumped down. Burying himself in the straw, he comfortably rode a ways down the street, but, then noticed a road block up ahead. Looking carefully around, the Doctor swung down from the hay bales, and slipped down to the pavement once again.

Hearing shouts getting closer, The Doctor knew he had to escape and soon. He was standing by the canal, when he noticed a ladder leading down to the water, with a rowboat tied up to it. Flinging himself down the ladder, the Doctor picked up the oars and rowed for all he was worth to the other side of the canal, ending up only about ten meters from the Tardis.

Clambering up the bank, the Doctor sprinted for his machine—but, before he could get there, an old man grabbed him, yanking the Doctor nearly off his feet. The Doctor looked around wildly at the man, “Wh-what?” He stammered, in sheer disbelief that after all that, he’d been caught by some old man.

The old man shook his head, “It’s alright mate, I saw the whole thing, they’s nowt they’ve got on yer, they was just lookin’ to beef up their arrest record, most likely. I saw yer arrive in that funny box, don’t reckon you had nowt to do with no murder.” The Doctor looked at the old man, as he allowed himself to be lead towards a nearby narrowboat. The man was short and wizened, wearing an old jumper and baggy trousers. He lead the Doctor down the stairs and sat him down on a bench. The old man admonished his guest to stay there, and left. A few minutes later, the Doctor heard the engines start up, and in seconds the boat was underway, headed down the canal.

After a short time passed, the boat’s engine cut out again. The Doctor heard movement on deck, as the old man tied the boat up again, a few miles down the canal from the town. The man came back down to the little cabin, bearing two mugs of tea in his hand. “My name’s John, this is my boat.” The Doctor took the mug. Thanks.” He said. Then, he held out his hand. “Hello John, I’m the Doctor.” The man shook his hand and then sat down. “Yes, I know.” He said dryly. “Only one man in the universe has a space ship that looks like a police box, can’t be anyone else.”

CHAPTER THREE

The Doctor had been about to sip his tea. Now, the mug hung halfway between the table and his lips, as his eyes widened in surprise..and wariness. “Come again?” he asked, for once truly taken aback. The old man eyed the Doctor knowingly over his tea mug, “You are the Doctor, aren’t you?” he asked in a completely new voice, this time, with a slight Scottish burr. “ At least I hope you are, or I’m going to sound like a right git, talking about space ships and police boxes” He smiled reassuringly. “I’m with Torchwood’s Scottish branch. Well,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I am the Scottish branch, actually.”

Sipping his tea, the Doctor raised an eyebrow, and his expression grew warier still. This didn’t go unnoticed by John. “Relax, Doctor.” He winked, “believe it or not, I’m on your side. I never did go along with that Doctor paranoia of Torchwood, thought it a bit rubbish, ma’self.” The Doctor set down his mug and returned the smile—only to become wary again, at John’s next words, “Mind you, Doc, you are still a very dangerous man. You have an alarming tendency to bring about death and destruction wherever you turn up.”

The Doctor was silent for a moment, his eyes suddenly seeming ancient and sad. John sensed this, and looked at the Doctor through sympathetic eyes. “Yet, I know quite well, that if you didn’t turn up,” he continued softly, “the death and destruction would be absolute, and mean the end of us all. Unfortunately for you Doctor, Captain Jack’s predecessors didn’t share my view.” The Doctor was silent and brooding for a moment longer. Then, he pushed his chair back, and stretched out his legs. “What’s going on here, John? Why are people going missing? What has gotten the police so stirred up?”

Setting down his tea mug, John said, “It all began eight months ago, near Loch Lomond. A bright light was seen by some of the locals, low over the hills near Millarochy Bay, burning across the sky. Then, it disappeared into the loch—or at least that’s what some of the witnesses claimed.

The Doctor folded his arms and leaned forward, suddenly interested. “And then what happened?” The old man’s face grew sober. “People began disappearing. At first it was only several over a period of a few weeks, just the odd fisherman or rambler.” The Doctor nodded. “And no one thought to question that, I suppose.” He stated matter-of-factly. John shrugged and replied, “People assumed they were merely accidents. A few more weeks went by, and a few more people went missing around the loch, and the authorities tried keep people calm, telling them accidents often come in batches, people get careless and there was nothing to worry about, these things happen. You know, all the usual standard issue clap-trap.”

John rose and stretched, stood staring at nothing on the wall. The Doctor took a sip of his tea, waiting patiently for the old man to continue with his story, which he did; “But, Torchwood knew different. They’d tracked that shooting star, Doctor. Only it wasn’t a shooting star—it was a space ship, and it didn’t crash into the loch…it landed.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “And they’d sent you to investigate?” He asked. John turned to him and smiled, “From what I gather, Captain Jack and his team were having something of a weevil problem down to Cardiff, so being that my base of operations is in Glasgow, I was the obvious choice.” He shrugged, “Well, the only choice really. They didn’t want to get U.N.I.T. Involved. I’m sure you know how trigger happy that lot can be.”

The Doctor looked on curiously, as the old man stood over the table, rummaging through his trouser pockets. “Then, a few weeks ago, a boater pulled a man out of the water. He was in shock and babbling incoherently about monsters in the loch, claiming that his friend had been eaten by one. I visited him in the mental hospital, put him under hypnosis, and got a rather good description from the man.” As he spoke, John pulled out an assortment of items from his pockets: a package of licorice All-sorts, a pocket knife, a small electronic gadget which the Doctor recognized as a monolysis fission capacitor, two pence, a piece of string, the stub of a number two pencil…and finally, a folded up piece of paper. Looking at it with a grunt of satisfaction, he carefully unfolded it and handed it to the Doctor.

Slipping on his glasses, the Doctor eyed the paper, frowning at what he saw there. It was a crude drawing of a blob-like creature, with a single eye, and tentacles ending in miniature, almost humanoid digits. “Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” He said simply. Sitting down across from him, the old man asked, “You know what it is, then?”

Pocketing his glasses, the Doctor reached over and snagged the box of licorice, popping one into his mouth. “Oh yes,” he said, chewing, “I’m rather afraid I do.” John looked at the Doctor expectantly. “Well?” “The Doctor blew out his cheeks. “The Umvots.” “Who’s what?” the old man asked. “Never heard of them.” “No, and you don’t want to.” The Doctor said ominously.

The Doctor stood morosely, jammed his hands into his coat pockets, and stared down at the drawing lying on the table. “They’re a species from the Gamovar system, long thought to be extinct.” He tugged on his ear, “They were supposed to have perished in a war with the Daleks, over a thousand of your years ago, back before I was born. Apparently, some of them must have escaped the slaughter.”

John bit his lip, not liking the sound of this. “What do you think they’re after, Doctor?” The Doctor shook his head, “Dunno’. As you may have surmised, they are a rather blood-thirsty lot. Intelligent carnivores. They’ve got a dual breathing system, a combination of gills and buccal pumps, which allow them to live in water or on land. They usually prefer the water, because that’s their origins really. The Umvots evolved from oceans similar to those on earth—which may be why they have landed here. Could be, that they’re just using the Earth as a supermarket—Loch Lomond is basically like their version of Sainsbury’s.” John grunted, “I prefer Tesco’s ma’self.”

Just then, the boat rocked violently. “Attention!” A man’s voice amplified by a bullhorn megaphone, called out. “This is the police. Stay where you are.” The Doctor moved to the entrance of the boat. “Oh dear.” He said again. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” John snorted, and reached picked up a mobile phone from a nearby table. “I take it you’re not talking about a herd of deer, Doctor. Guess I’d better place a little call to Captain Jack.”

The Doctor watched as a policeman climbed from a small powerboat onto to the narrowboat. Then, as he got almost all the way up the side, the man cried out, looking behind him. A second later, he fell into the water with a splash. The Doctor ducked as shots were fired towards the narrowboat’s cabin. He didn’t see a black, oily looking creature, climbing over the rail and slithering across the deck towards the cabin door.

He's been caught playing with himself in his on-set trailer.

1. Are you wearing perfume or cologne right now?

Nope, haven't bought any of that stuff in months.

2. Who is your idea of the ideal man?

Russell T. Davies

3. Who is your idea of the ideal woman?

Tie between Audrey Hepburn and Doris Day.

4. A. Your cultural heritage?

American. My late mum's family's been here (I think) since Jamestown Settlement, or the Mayflower or since New Amsterdam times, or some such palaver--English, Irish, German, Dutch, and possibly Scots...those that came after are all mostly natives of New York's mid and upper Hudson Valley, and the Schoarie/Mohawk river Valley's, as well.

My grandparent's on my late dad's side, came off the boat from Poland/Austria, onto Ellis Island, in the 1900's some time.

B. Any odd family tales you want to share?

One of my more distant ancestors was allegedly shipwrecked and eaten by his shipmates. Seriously. It's in a New York history book I own.

5. Shoes you have on?

Wool socks, actually.

6. Your weakness:

blogging, I've become a shameless blogger I'm afraid

7. Beer or wine?

Neither, prefer gingerale or juice if I go to a pub/bar.

8. Like to cuddle?

Never had that issue come up--well, my cats have cudddled me, and mum when I was wee.

9. Last sweet you had?

Last night I had a berry float--that's two scoops of strawberry ice cream in a glass, with some gingerale (ale, not beer) poured on top of it, and topped with a bit of whipped cream.

10. Last time you visited the hair salon/barber?

May.

In this clip from the taping of the Series two commentary for New Earth, a beer-swilling David Tennant seems fixated by Cassandra's wonder-bra. I've no doubt that Tennant must go commando under his kit a lot--imagine it's a real time-saver, ey?

Merry Christmas all!

I was sitting here, at 3am, polishing off chapter three of my stupid Dr Who story, and then set about the tedious task of copying and pasting it to my Wordpress blog.

Finish pasting, and find that there's this huge gap between each paragraph, like triple spacing--when I am using double spacing. So, I fix it--then find, that although Wordpress shows i have proper double spaces between my paragraphs when I'm setting up the page, when I look at the finished page...NOW, I have NO paragraphs at all! This free Office software sucks--okay, it's free, and it's it's better than nothing...still...what a bunch of palaver I have to go through!

Well, the boys upstairs have finally stopped partying, so i can go to bed...I've also suddenly developed an arthritis attack-mostly in my left wrist, and i can barely move it--it's not fun typing, let me tell you. Time to quit for now.

Is he a Time Lord, or just another alien on the make?

Apparently, the 2-part climax of the 2009 specials will be quite the thing, with a slight suggestion that things hinted over the past four years or so, will be possibly explained..and, that RTD may shock fans with something utterly unexpected, possibly something where he might "go to far," with the story line, risking losing loyal fans in the process, perhaps. God, I hope not. I don't mind the far-out stuff sometimes...but if he's going to do something really daft, like show the Doctor having sex in the Tardis, or something that's gonna' mess with my head, or be totally implausable, or screw up my suspension of disbelief, than I really will ditch the show I've adored for the last 25 years.

Why the hell do people think they have to shock you to get you to watch television? I live in reality. I've been shocked for real, scared for real...I don't need that rubbish in a show that I watch to ESCAPE reality.

Well, as Mr. Davies says, it's not written yet, so maybe he won't surcumb to temptation and just write us a straight-forward script without all the shockers aimed at the dull and unimaginative.

Which do we have strongest memories of? Do we have stronger memories of hurts, slights and hates, or the golden glow of joy and love, serenity and blissful surrender?

It's easier I suppose to hate, as opposed to love, to remember a debt owed us, rather than a forgiveness given. I think we most hate that which we most fear, the darkness within, that we don't want to acknowlege we may harbour deep in the recessess of our own souls.

There is a time for everything, a time to hurt and to heal, and a time for change. But, sometimes time seems to stand still, and hover just out our reach. I am trapped in that infelxible grasp of stagnation. I don't know how to free myself, don't know how to move forward--not sure I have the energy any longer.

I measure my life these days, not by the ticking of the clock, the passing of the days, the years...but by changes, good or bad. And, when there are no changes, when the status quo flatlines, time stands still for me.

I am not playing any Christmas music tonight. Instead I'm playing a great driving song, 'cos I'd rather be away from here, in a car, driving through the countryside tonight. Screw global warming.

The teenage brats upstairs are having a party, and they're all, apparently, bouncing off the walls upstairs like a bunch of hyperactive little monkeys on crack. So, for the next four, or five, or six hours--or more, I'm gonna' have a mess of heavy THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP's, and BANG-BANG-BANG's on my ceilings, not to mention the giggling and laughing and all that shite....have I mentioned that I HATE where I live? Get ready for my Victor Meldrew impression: YOU BASTARDS! How bout you leave the stinking ceilings in one piece!

Can't they ever go somewhere else to play? Why me? I swear, if I were rich, I'd feed the cats, make sure they were all cosy, then book a hotel room for the night, just so I could get some f'ing peace and quiet!

And, I woke from my Christmas eve nap, with a sore throat..and now I'm sneezing...another stinking cold again? If so, this'll be the third round for me, since blinking October.

Yeah, another miserable stinking Christmas eve. Just shoot me already.

...and I'll be napping for Christmas. Had a quick lunch of cheese and crackers, checked my e-mails, played a little cribbage online....don't feel like doing much else.

The snow has changed to an icy misty rain-snow mix. Very dreary out there. I made five sales--but most of the calls between the sales were horrendous. People slamming phones in my ear, screaming, swearing at me, being sarcastic...assholes. One so-called lady from Georgia asked me snarkily, outright, before I could even say much to her: "Why are ewe Callin' me on Christmas eve? Are you JEWISH?" I told her, "No, I'm disabled and just trying to earn a living. Sorry my calling you has caused you such distress. Have a merry Christmas." Bitch.

Christmas sucks when you have to deal with the public--especially here in America, where basic human decency (formally known as civilized manners) has mostly been erradicated. If it weren't for my very kind friends, I would truly hate humanity. No, really. If it were not for the the lovely people I've never met, whom are so incredibly caring and supportive--people who mostly only know me through this blog--I probably would really feel nothng but hate and bitterness towards human kind. I'd probably just crawl into my shell and never come out again, and that's the genuine truth of it.

But, I'm crawling under the covers, anyway. Christmas eve for me, was always a magical time--time to be out and about, doing last minute shopping, getting ready for church, chatting with mum, going to church and meeting friends and neighbours...but it's all gone now, forever, and nothing I can do will ever bring it back, and I know some less than realistic people will tell me to just move on, but it's not as simplistic and cut and dried as that.

So, I'm just going to hunker down in my apartment tonight. sleep, read a book, write something, play cribbage watch Dr Who re-funs...in about an hour from now--I think--you lot in the UK will be watching Dr Who...me, I'll be napping. I was going to put on some Christmas music, but I think not. The tree is lit up with blue and white lights, the coloured lights on the balcony railing are on---but, I'm going to be turned off to Christmas tonight. It's just too...hard.

I'll deal with Christmas tomorrow.

Damn it! Two people just threw more spoilers at me...not meaning to, mind you. Shite.
Maybe I was right back in June, after all, when I got distraught over the shock of the regen scene in epidsode 12...maybe I'm just too damn attached to Doctor Who, and should just walk away...this time, forever, and never look at it again.

Yes, I'm THAT upset about everyone--from David Tennant, down to two of my Whovian friends---telling me what the Christmas special will be about. Even though I won't personally see it...perhaps in days, perhaps in months...still, it was something I so looked forward to, like some Christmas present I'd pined and longed for, for so very many months. Now...it's ruined. The surprises are flying out the window, fast and furious and there's not much point in me watching the damn thing, if I already know what's going to stinking happen, is there?

Move on, find some other thing to look forward to in life. Maybe it's time to change: give up Doctor Who, give up writing--maybe even blogging, and just...be what I really am...some 48 year old fat ugly broad, in a dead end job, in a backwater city in far northeastern New York, alone with her 3 cats and a room full of memories, knick-knacks, 100 books, 25 DVD's, 8 CD's and some good friends on the internet. That's me, that's all I am. Maybe I need to stop beng a Whovian, and just...be. Accept what I am, and just start existing, likee everyone else.

Sorry, it's Christmas eve, and I'm just so dreading another CE alone. Yeah, I've reduced it to initials, hoo-ray for me. That's about the size of it. I did toy with the idea of going to the CE service at the Presbyterian "cathedral" down the street...but last time I did that, I ended up practically bawling in the the middle of "Silent Night," 'cos I missed my mum so badly...never want to embarrass myself like that again! Plus, damn, going to chruch alone always makes me feel so rubbih at any time of the year, why make it worse for myself at Christmas?

It's not quite half-past 7. I have to go in a few minutes early today, on account of the rubbish weather---it's snowing again, of course. by the time all's said and done this afternoon, reckon we'll have a total of 18 inches on the ground out there, what with the continual snow fall of the last week or so. This is supposed to be it for a few days, though, thankfully.

Well, better 18 inches in dribbles and dabs, than all at once, I suppose--which still may happen sometime this winter, as it's supposed to be like this for the next several months. Yeah, we can get snow fall here at any time between October and May...some years we hardly get any...we had a "snow drought" in 2007, not getting more than an inch or two of snow from October, until Feburary 14th, when the "drought" abruptly ended with nearly 35 inches of snow in a single day.

It's 24 F, with heavy snowfall seeming to be alternating with a sort of snowy mist. Well, I have to go and eat something...not hungry, but I can't go all day without food, that wouldn't be great for my blood sugar, even worse t han eating a Milky Way bar.

I heard on the radio that Macy's is having a 70% off sale. Wow, poverty sucks, 'cos there's one sale I wouldn't mind shopping at. There was (and still is) a Macy's department store at the local mall, around 20 minutes drive from the home I grew up in. Mum used to take me shopping there as a special treat, when I was a teen. I got my special high school graduation necklace there, mum helping me pick out something that would go with my posh graduation dress--which strangely, i can't recall what that was...remember the necklace, totally cannot remember what I wore under my cap and gown!

Then, when my name was drawn out of a hat by the St. Patrick's Club in our village--a club that only exisited to march in the city of Albany's annual St. Patrick's Day parade, and whom also staged a dinner dance on that day--someone for reasons of their own, nominated me to be "Miss Colleen" that year...without consulting me, mind you--and one Sunday in February of '79, I got a call out of the blue, congradulating me, for being selected. "Huh??? What???" was my only reaction...that seemed a bit ungracious at the time, in hindsight. But, mum was thrilled for me, and again, took me to Macy's to buy me a gift--another necklace, this time a pendant with a four leaf clover on it, and, while there, buying me the required long white gloves...the only pair I'd ever owned. Felt like I should be in Breakfast at Tiffany's wearing those! I had to wear the gloves to go with a fuux-fur trimmed green cape, and long green gown, which I was required had to wear for the parade, while sitting on my mobile thrown (get it? mobile throne?--oh, never mind) on the parade float...which developed a fault at the last minute, and I wound up sitting and doing the waving thing at the crowds, in the "rumble seat" of an old 1930's Model T roadster, in the end--

Anyway, loved shopping at Macy's. One year, about 25 or 30 years ago, someone gave me a 50 dollar gift certificate for Macy's for Chrismas, and I bought a gorgeous white real Irish (or Scottish, can't remember) sweater (jumper) on sale, with the money...had it for years, until mum accidentally washed it--and my lovely, lovely posh Pendelton wool sweater/jumper--which had an intricate and gorgeous native american design on it--in hot water...and yes, they both shrunk to the point where they MIGHT have fit a very skinny ten-year old...but not a 175 pound broadsholdered woman. Another year at Macy's, as a Christmas gift, she bought me this gray sweater/jumper with a horse on it, that I had treasured for years, until it got so worn out, it began falling apart.

Well, time to go and change into my working duds. Have a lovely Christmas all--may you be safe and warm and loved, on this holiday. Cheers. Nancy G. (playwrite27)

I wanted to finish chapter 3 in Evil Waters tonight, that stupid Dr Who fan-fic story I've been farting around with, but...it's too late. Nearly 11 and I have to get up at half-past six in the morning, so it'll have to wait until Christmas eve, or day, when I've got loads of time on my hands to screw around with some odd bits of writing I've left lying about, strewn around the internet, waiting to be finished...got a short play that needs work, as well as another Dr Who fan-fic, called "Numbered Days," which I began last winter just before surcumbing to a prolonged illness, and then I got hit with massive writer's block, upon returning home from hospital.

So, I'm sitting here, being a bad girl, having an after-dinner treat of one of those new dark chocolate mint Milky Way bars, in the mood to write SOMETHING, but whatever it is, it needs be short. Think I'll skip checking my blood sugar tonight, heh-heh, catch it up in the morning.

Excuse me for a second, while I rumage around in my brain to try and find something to write about....

Hmmm-hmmm-hmmm...let's just move those stale old tales of my holiday trips aside, and see what we can find, ey? Well, there's always...no, that subject's gotten rather dull and rusty, hasn't it? We'll just throw that away, then. Oh, I was wondering where I'd left my flugelhorn, now I remember...what's this? No, no, no, that subject belongs in my brain's bottom shelf, alongside the fart jokes and sexual ineuendo...there must be something in here I can write about....

AH HA! Eureka! I've found it!

You know, no one is perfect, right? I mean, you might have to search through a box of two dozen heads of slimy, brown and mushy heads of rotten lettuce, before you can find the perfectly green and crisp head, right? (And believe me, I HAVE had that experience...makes you want to pass up the salad bar for life, that).

I mean, let's face it: for every bullet mankind sends into womankind, to make another human being, how many of those will truly hit the mark? How many out of millions, will attain near-perfection...if any? Oh, some will go on to save lives, write and/or perform great things, spend their lives giving compassion and care to others, but how many humans will be...perfect?

None, probably. In that way, we're much like nature. In her own ways, nature has many near-perfections...but every single one has some kind of flaw. No perfect circles or squares exist in nature...at least, not so far as I've personally ever observed.

We're not MEANT to be perfect! Like nature, we're intended to be flawed, in both body and soul. So many humans strive for perfection...in looks, style, career, art. They are oblivious to one of nature's most basic truths. We strive to be the best we can be--which is all well and good, in fact, it's terrific. But, to strive for absolute perfection, to me, is simply bonkers. Can't be done..only because we're only human.

I just found out last week, that even with the US government "discount voucher" (which expires at the end of this week), that I still can't afford a digital converter box, as, even with the coupon, it's still going to run me over $50!

Let's see...pay 50 for my internet service...which I really need/use, or ditch the service adn pay $50 dollars for converter box, to get (maybe) 2 or 3 local TV stations?

Hello internet, goodbye telly...into the skip you go!

Whose daft idea was it, anyway, to turn off analog and force people who can't afford a converter, to ditch their televisions, during a full blown RECESSION? Morons.

...his name was "stud-muffin":

Gack! It's bloody cold in here! I've two pairs of thick socks on, and my feet still feel like ice cubes! It actually got up to 22 F today, but the inside of my apartment feels like an iceberg. I've actually cranked the themostat up (sorry global warming) to 85 F, and I can't get the heat in here past 62 F. Poor Flame with her naturally thin coat, has been huddled next to various radiators all day. It wasn't this bad last year, so I'm wondering if the building's furnace is functioning properly. I'll have to ask the neighbour acrossthe hall.

Hammering again. Someone was complaining about that, the landlord told me. Someone in the building keeps tapping away, and apparently is driving some other tenant nuts. It's muffled where I'm at, so I hear it but it's not loud enough to drive me bonkers, like the teens do when they get bombed and start running around their apartment at 2am like a bunch of hyper little monkeys. It's not me---I've not seen hide nor hair of my hammer in a couple of months. I've mislaid it somewhere--likely in the bottom of a cuboard or closet. I'm sort of what you'd call DIY challenged.

Took me an extra hour to do my chores today--taxi's being almost impossible to get for some reason...45 min.s waiting for one to go, and 20 min.'s waiting for one to take me home again. Darn, I do miss having a car, times like that--lost a whole hour out of my day, waiting for a cab--for a trip that would take just 10 min. by car!

Anyway, have to leave for work in about 20 min, to go work the night shift. I can just imagine how much fun that's going to be, trying to sell or collect money the day before Christmas eve...Christmas eve will probably suck more...and the day after Christmas...bleh. I have to work two shifts the day after Christmas, and all day Saturday, as well....sucks to be me. Anytime we have a national holiday off, we have to work our normal days off to make up the missed time. How rubbish is that?

____________________________________________________________________

Odds and ends meme: RULES--- google you name, with whatever word is on the list after it, and then post the results.

1. blue

Nancy's blue plate gourmet, please join us for lunch.

2. green

Nancy Green presents iformation about herself and her photography

3. purple

Nancy Puple Butterfly Dress

4. magenta

Nancy receives a firm handshake from a magenta haired boy

4. yellow

Nancy's yellow bathroom retro renovation

5. orange

Nancy, Nancy orange squash, growing beautiful squash

1. taffy

Nancy, Buster and staff, Taffy Menswear.

2. lederhosen

Anything by nancy leiderhosen and the planet manga drowd of fuckwits

3. underwear

Myspace video Aeropostale underwear scandal by Nancy

4. rodent

Discuss "naughty Nancy" on the rodent supples product review

5. screwdriver

Chip, with the bloody screwdriver still in his hand, looked pitifully at his client. “I did it for you, Nancy. I was supposed to protect you, wasn’t I?”

1. cinema

Negative Nancy by cinema psychic

2. farm

Nancy's dream of owning a farm in the country came true. (cool!)

3. mall

Search for Nancy malls on sale

4. cathedral

Nancy Cathedral, exterior view

5. museum

The School of Nancy Museum

1. bus

Nancy's bus and tram system could be useful for moving around Greater Nancy

2. tractor

Old Nancy moved to the Agricultural Engineering Building

3. camel

The milk Nancy is processing...

4. roller coaster
Read more on Migraines and Roller Coasters Nancy Bonk

5. kayak

Nancy is ideally located in the heart of Nancy, opposite the railway station. ...

1. fairy

Popular tales from the Norse: Nancy fairy

2. traffic warden

To the traffic warden's chagrin, there is still time remaining on the parking meter. click for full size. "Don't swear." Nancy admonishes...

3. prostitute

"Don't prostitute yourself," said Nancy.

4. ballerina

Find Fancy Nancy Ballerina dance doll outfit.

5. cowboy

Nancy cowboy hat hair

(yup, that cowboy hat hair of mine, used to drive mum bonkers)

I've been waiting nearly 25 minutes for the cab, and no sign of it yet. Took the rubbish out to the skip out back, came back upstairs, and my chest pains have started again...not my heart, exactly...just feels like it...a tightening of the chest. All the x-rays and heart monitor and all that palaver they've tested me with, all say my heart's fine, so no worries...makes it uncomfortable to do anything though, sometimes. I'm told it's related to my anemia or some such nonsense.

Dang! WHERE is that cab, I want to do my chores and come back home and take it easy before work tonight. Stinking Glens Falls is sooo-hard to do anything in...lousy sidewalks, lousy cab service and the worst bus service in all of New York state..and many other parts of the world.

It's 11 F, out there--which translates to minus 11 C. Brrr! Well, it got down to minus 7 F, last night, so I suppose 11 isn't so bad. I't not even going to make 20 F, this afternoon.

We're to get a short snow or ice storm, Christmas eve morning or afternoon...possibly an ice storm again for the folks below us, but mostly yet more snow they say, for my area...certainly, if it warms up to above freezing--32 F, we'll be seeing ice pellets and freezing rain, but if it's not going to get above 20 where I'm at today, I don't forsee it warming up that much, overnight, but you never know. Christmas day is supposed to be OK though.

We've got around 15 inches of snow on the ground here, and by Christmas morning, if we get all or mostly snow tomorrow, it'll add only another one to three inches to what we already have, so at least it won't exactly be a semi-blizzard, like we had Sunday.

My cab should be here shortly, so I'd better hop it. Have a good day, all!

To me, to be human, to be "me," is to sort of to be a non-conformist. I don't want to take life at face-value. I want to get out there and ask questions. I want to see and hear, feel and do. I want to touch the universe--because the universe isn't merely some mythical dust, gases and stars in far outer space...it's also all around us. The universe is in a blade of grass, a leaf falling, it's the song of a mourning dove at sunrise, and the waves hitting the shore at sunset. It is us, it is our breath and life and hope, it is our disasters and our grief.

Yet, all that said, it can be, as I've written before, very hard, sometimes seemingly impossible, for me to open my internal Pandora's box,--whether that be in conversation, in writing, or in some piece my theater professor asked me to perform--to open a vein, and allow the world to see the raw emotions inside...to see the unfettered "truth" of me.

When I am out in nature, whether it be near wood, water or field, I cannot look away.

When I am outdoors, the chains that confine my naked, unconversant inner-self, fall away. No one is around, it is just me, standing on the stage of unfettered nature, standing in spotlight that is the centre of the universe. I have no need to hide myself. The risk of a petty or mean reaction from one of my own kind is whisked away, and I can bask in the glow of pure freedom. Nature is the sanctuary of my mind, of my heart and spirit and soul. It is my lift to the universe.

For just a bit over 125 dollars US, you can serve roast "turducken", for dinner. Mind you, you may hesitate to serve your family something with the word "turd" in the title!

What is "turducken?" you might well ask?

A 'Turducken' is an old southern recipe for a boneless chicken stuffed into a boneless duck stuffed into a boneless turkey.

Here's what the Hickory Farms (an American business that specializes in smoked meats and cheeses, candy, condiments and most especially, in gift hampers) website has to say:

Turducken

The name Tur-duc-ken may seem strange at first, but this turkey, duck and chicken dish is a flavor sensation! You'll find a deboned turkey except for the wings surrounding a partially deboned duck, surrounding a deboned chicken. In between each layer is a hearty Cajun spiced cornbread and pork rice stuffing! Big enough for a feast, it's a fantastic - and remembered - gift. 15 lbs. Serves 25-30.

GIFT# 64249 PRICE $120.00 SALE $84.00

"sides"--which are optional and cost 10 dollars extra--are your choice of either broccolli, cheese and rice casserole, or cinnamon apples.

I don't really want to blog this, I was just going to do this as a private post--but, perhaps I'm not alone out there, and maybe others might want to know they aren't alone in their feelings.

This is hard to talk about, because no one want to hear this stuff, this time of year. I'm not obtuse, I know that.

But, here goes: I'm really sad today. I am sometimes crying--I just so miss my mum, and I just so find another Christmas alone, quite difficult...and, also, the knowledge that this is alway going to be this way, forever. Basically, Christmas doesn't really exisit for me, any longer. Despite the support and care of my far-away friends, I am still feeling so empty and barren, sitting here, looking at the tree all lit up and knowing that people are out there, shopping and singing carols, making plans with family and friends...and knowing that for me, it really is just another day--well, just another day with a christmas tree thrown in.

I'll hopefully be chatting on Skype with a friend or two, Christmas day for a wee while, which is something I've never done before. But, I have to say, I'm dreading Christmas eve. It used to be so special and magical, and now...it just is...nothing.

I've tried to compensate by helping others. I also treated myself to several presents this year, which is the first year I've been able to do that. In the last several years I've been lucky to get myself one thing, so I am happy about that. I was even able to buy the cats a little packet of toys and a tin of tuna.

Still, as the holiday draws nearer, I find myself getting sadder, lonelier and more discontented--which compounds things, by making me feel worse, 'cos I shouldn't have anything to be discontented about, if I'm better off this year!

Tonight, I'm a bit confused. I'm feeling greif for my parents, empty for being alone, and scared...scared for no reason at all, that I can think of, which really feels strange. I'm just being daft, I suppose.

Anyway, I've been surfing the net for some "self-help," but haven't really found much, except this:

SIGNS OF DEPRESSION:

Persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" mood
Feelings of hopelessness, pessimism
Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, helplessness
Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities that were once enjoyed, including sex
Decreased energy, fatigue, being "slowed down"
Difficulty concentrating, remembering, making decisions
Insomnia, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping
Appetite and/or weight loss or overeating and weight gain
Restlessness, irritability
Persistent physical symptoms that do not respond to treatment, such as headaches, digestive disorders, and chronic pain

COPING WITH HOLIDAY DEPRESSION: (

Note that most of these tips don't even apply to me! I have no 'busy' holiday stuff to do, i'm already alone, memories of past Christmses are all I have left to me, I've basically got no family in my life, and I don't drink!) But hey, if it works for you--go for it!

One of the best antidotes for the holiday blues is doing something for someone else.

Delegate. Don't try to do it all by yourself. People often want to help and to be involved. By breaking down tasks and doling them out to friends and family, everything becomes more manageable.

Spend Some Time Alone. Some people love the energy and exuberance of big holiday parties and activities. For others, all of it is very taxing. If you find yourself getting a little anxious, take a breather. Find a quiet spot to relax and recharge your batteries. Other people will be so caught up in what is going on that they probably won't even miss you.

Let Go of the Past. Don't be disappointed if your holidays aren't like they used to be. Life brings changes. Embrace the future, and don't dwell on the fact that the "good old days" are gone.

Don't Drink Too Much. It is easy to overindulge around the holidays, but excessive drinking will only make you feel more depressed.

Give Yourself a Break. Don't think in absolute terms. You aren't the best cook in the world, or the worst. You aren't super mom, or the most horrible mother in the world.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I just had to interrupt my blogging to go open my front window, and threaten some drunk guy down below with sic'ing the police on him. He was trying to bang in the door downstairs with his foot, and thowing snowballs at my front windows--looking for someone named "T-bone," and ordering me to let me into the building! We keep the downstairs door locked for a reason. I HATE this f'ing building! First the drug dealing woman beater, then the pot-smoking drug addict, then mentally disabled throws her trainer onto the roof in a blizzard girl, now THIS. Jeez--what the hell is God punishing me for, to land me into this hell hole I'm in?

The plethora of Christmas songs on the radio today are making me ill, so I decided to listen to something else--I listened to my Proclaimers channel on Pandora radio for a while, then decided to switch gears and find some more music from the magical guitar strings of Rob Bourassa.

Call me an old prude, but I really do dig swing music. Here's a piece from Mr. Bourassa that really has a swinging groove:

Boobycakes sent me this in an e-mail yesterday, and I didn't see it, so I'm gonna' do it, what the hell, I'm in the throes of the Christmas blues and I need something to take my mind off of things.

1 A. How many pairs of jeans do you own?

9

B. How many of those pairs would be considered "designer" jeans?

3

2. Have you ever placed a personals ad?

Yes

3. Do you own a boat, camper, or other recreational vehicle?

No.

4. Can you whistle?

Yes

5. Have you ever cut your own hair?

Yes.

6 A. Do you know CPR?

Not any more--I had training in CPR when I was 15, but have never used it or taken a refresher course.

B. Have you ever performed the Heimlich Maneuver on a choking victim?

Yes

7. Have you ever needed a tetnus shot?

Oh yes, quite a lot, actually. Had one in January--ouch! Those suckers hurt.

8. Do you enjoy roller coasters?
Only the little "kidde" coasters's---I've been on a loop syle coaster, hated every minute of it.

9. Do you own a console video game system (Xbox, Playstation 2, GameCube, etc.)?

I had an NES, and then a Super NES for years--mum and I used to play Super Mario Brothers--but sold it in 2006.

10. Do you wear sandals/flip-flops in the summer?
No, I have webbed toes it's bothers me too much

11. Do you believe in Santa Claus?

Doesn't everybody?

12. Do you enjoy hot bubble baths?

I only have a shower stall in my apartment.

13. Have you ever traced your family tree?

That was mum's department--she found out there was a Featherly at Jamestown settlement, but I don't know if she got any farther back than that. I have 3/4 of my mum's old handwritten notes, but I can't make heads or tails of them--there's literally hundreds of handwritten pages!

14. Do you ever download music from the Internet?

No.

15. Do you follow a low-carb diet?

No.

16. Do you have health insurance?

Only partially. I have partial Medicare, and prescription coverage.

17. Do you enjoy independent films?

I rarely get to see independent films so I can't answer this.

18. Have you ever been less than honest on your income tax return?

No, I have to hire someone else to do them, because of my math disability.

19. Do you work outside of the home?

Yes.

20. Do you enjoy watching cooking shows?

Not really--I used to work as a cook, years ago--the thrill is GONE, trust me!

21. Do you ever attend cultural events?

I can when I can afford to. I went to see The Real Inspector Hound/Black Comedy this past September...took me a whole month to save the $20...it was the first play I'd been able to attend in nearly 5 years. I went to an art show in summer of 2006, as well. And a walked around a craft fair this summer admiring the stuff people made, I went to what laughingly passes for the local museum this summer, and sometimes I go to lectures at the library, if they're any good. I used to go to stuff a lot more, when I was a student, of course: symphony and other concerts, art gallery openings, plays, poetry readings, current event and other types of lectures, etc. It's just not possible any longer.

22. How often do you watch reality television?

Never, I don't get television--when I did get television, about once or twice a week--mostly Queer eye and one of those home makeover shows. Quite frankly, I'd rather shoot myself than be stuck watching American Idol, Survivor, Big Brother or Lost. A good book is much better than 75 percent of reality programmes, to me. I'd rather read.

23. Do you have a pet(s)?

Yup.

24. Politically speaking, are you liberal, conservative, centre or none?

Liberal

25. How often do you sit down to write something like a letter, poem or story?

I blog every day. My story writing is a bit sporatic--I sometimes will make a point to write every day--then again, I might go months without writing a story. Since I'm not getting paid for it, and since I longer vision myself ever having a future as a professional writer, I don't need to be as disciplined as I used to be, and can write when I want, what I want, whenever I want. I write poems on a whim, usually spur of the moment, they're rubbish. Letter writing...only a few times a year, I guess...nowadays I chat on skype or PM's through this website or e-mails.

I didn't WANT to know the big mystery behind "the next Doctor," but now thanks to that big jerk David "I can't keep my big mouth shut" Tennant--now I know..as does everyone else who heard or, as I did, read a part of his radio interview today.

Son of a.....sonic screwdriver.

I'm really ticked off at Tennant now--and no, I'm not gonna' tell you what his said. I just had my joy ruined, I'm not going to do a David and ruin yours as well.

The flippin' sod told everyone exactly who Morrissey's character is. Jesus, the one thing--literally the ONLY thing I had to look forward to in the new year (where I face the very real probabliity of getting laid off from work, at least temporairly)---and stinking Tennant thoughtlessly spills the beans!

What a rubbish thing to do!

There was no warning in the article either, it was just...THERE. Bastard. Marry Christmas to you too, Tennant. Don't let the Tardis door hit you on your way out.

That's it. I am NOT celebrating Christmas anymore. I'm sick of having bad stuff happen--big or small, doesn't matter. Christmas SUCKSSSSSSS!

What? Is his on drugs or something? Or is he just a...bastard too?

I HATE Christmas. I've a have a mind to take down my tree today and throw it in the skip out back. Life sucks and then you die. Stupid rich celebrites, who needs them?

From the morning paper in my city:

A man in a rural town was seriously injured yesterday, and had to be airlifted to a hospital 50 miles away, after the snowmobile he was riding crashed into a piece of contruction equipment that was being used for snow removal from a country road.

A local sex offender that has failed to register his address with police for a second time, is now facing 3 years in prison for the offense. He was previously convicted for forcible rape. New York state law requires sex offenders to register their proper address with local authorities.

In the city of Saratoga Springs, 15 miles to the south, a 23 year old man was found dead in his apartment, by the man's room mate. Police are not calling the death suspicious, though.

Car Wash vandal still on the loose. Police in the north country town of Warrensburg, are looking for the man who smashed a change making machine at a self-serve car wash early in November, after the machine refused to give the man his change. The Warren County Sheriffs Department have released the man's picutre--taken by CCTV, as well as a picture of his pick up truck.

A drunk man coming out of Sandy's Clam Bar on South Street, was arrested the other night for attacking a taxi cab. Apparently the man was upset that the cab driver refused to allow the drunk into the cab, so the drunk started kicking the cab and damaged a rear bumper in the process. He was arrested for disorderly conduct.

A Fort Edward woman was upset about finding pornography on her boyfriend's laptop computer, and smashed it, resulting in the boyfriend calling police, and having her arrested for 4th degree criminal mischef....and they all lived happily ever after.

Don't you just love the holidays? It brings out such warm fuzzy feelings in people, does it not?

So, I'm sitting her having a spot of lunch, chilling to songs like The Old Apartment, Save It For A Rainy Day and Life With You--but, I was thinking about how much I truly miss Christmas, both the good things and the not so good things...so, here's some snapshots of my Christmases past:

Tinsel strands:
Mum loved them--and I haven't a clue why. They were a pain in the neck to decorate with, 'cos they'd inevidably come out of the box, all clumped together, so you'd have to work them in your fingers for several minutes, trying to seperate them...then, once on the tree, that cat would try and play with them...sometimes choking on one, so you'd have to prise open his or her jaw--risking a bite--and pull the darn thing out...then, when you took down the tree, sometimes months later, you'd hear mum muttering crossly at the vacuum, when on a stray bit of tinsel that had somehow found its way under the sofa, got tangled in the the rotating brush of the vacuum cleaner.

The tree:
Dad was always looking for a bargain. One year we might go to the guy selling at the village's hot dog stand, another year to a vacant lot outside the city, or to Ted's Fish Fry, whom every year has a few affordable "charile brown" trees up for grabs...I can remember dad dickering with the guy on the lot, grumbling if he had to shell out more than 10 or 15 dollars.

I remember the year dad went to Two Guys department store in our village, and bought a fake tree--oh, he was so proud of himself..."no more buying real trees!" he chortled...just before the smile was wiped off his face when he opened the box...and saw a tangle of green shaggy limbs, crushed down into the box every which way...with no directions in sight. They were in the bottom, underneath the mess, as it turned out. Dad finally figured out that the tips of the branches were "colour coded," and that one had to set up the "pole" first, and then match the ends of the "branches" to the colour coding ont the pole...but wait, there's more....then, there were these little straight pieces of "branch" that were bendable, and they were to be wrapped around the gaps between the colour coded sections of pole.

Needless to say, by the time I was 14, it fell to me to set up the tree...just like it was my job to shovel the drive, mow the lawn, rake the leaves and take out the rubbish bins...while dad was sat all comfy in his lounge chair, puffing on his Pall Malls, and reading the evening paper.

Christmas cards:
That was mum's and my job. Dad had a huge card list...business associates and co-workers, his volunteer fireman buddies, his friends at the local vetern's post, his relations (mum only had a few relatives left, so her list was rather short, thankfully)--we'd easily go through five or six boxes of cards--mum signing them and addressing them, me licking stamps and envelopes. Both of us getting the inevitable paper cuts. What a drag that was!

The lights:
I do remember dad, every late October or early Novemeber, getting up on the ladder out front, and stringing the coloured christmas lights across the front eaves. He stopped doing that around 1973 or 74, I think, but I do remember loving to see the big old icicles hanging down in front of our big wide front "picture" window, with the coloured lights reflecting off of them.

Presents:
Every autumn, the Montgomery Ward Christmas catalog would come in. Now, our village was home to the largest Montgomery Ward department store, on the entire east coast--with two warehouses, besides, where one could easily pick up catalog merchandise, rather than waiting to have it delivered...providing the order packers got it right, that is. But, that's another story.

I remember joyfully ringing in my favourite toys in the catalog with a pen, hoping to get something really cool--sometimes I did, and sometimes..not. Mostly I did, though.

Sometimes mum would just see something while out holiday shopping, and just get it for us, on a whim. We got some strange plastic wigs that way, one year. We enjoyed wearing them for about a week or two, before realizing they were just a wee uncomfortable, and made our hair smell all funny.

As for me, mum knew that as long as I got at least one thing that was either involving horses or cowboys and indians, I'd be happy.

My sister and I never really fought over our presents--except for the Operation game...I don't remember why we fought over it mind you, but sis was quite possessive over it...as was I--it was a really cool new game, for that day and age. Better than Twister, I thought.

Shopping was a blast, as well. Mum and I would hit the malls and flea markets and auctions, looking for cool (and affordable) gifts for everyone. We'd make a proper day or night of it, going out to dinner, laughing and talking and gawking at the window and mall displays, relaxed and happy.

However, one year, I just had no money to spend on presents. I was about 15, and I was working--but at a stable in exchange for riding lessons, and not actually getting any financial renumeration. I so wanted to give my mum a present that year, so I found a piece of pine wood, and took my pocket knife I used at the barn to cut baling twine with, and carved and painted a letter opener to give my mum. I spent two weeks carving, sanding and painting the thing. It was the first time I'd tried to make her something like that, and I suppose it was pretty naf. So, Christmas came, she unwrapped it, frowned and said, "What's this supposed to be?" I was so heartbroken! I guess a while later, she'd realized how much she'd hurt me, cos' she came to me in my room, thanked me and apologized. I think she knew I was making her something for Christmas, but hadn't quite expected a painted stick!

I was the unoffical present wrapper in our home. I would carefull wrap each present, tie it all nicely with some ribbon and a bow, and put on a nice card. Mum sensed that I liked that job, so first she asked me, then dad asked me..before I knew it, I was sitting on my bed each December, the floor piled high with gives and my bed strewn with paper, ribbon and those stick on bows and tags. I didn't mind, it was fun.

A MEMORABLE PREZZIE: Somewhere there's a photo of me and my sister wearing these goofy plastic wigs from the late 60's, with the peel from a navel orange out of our Christmas stocking in our mouths--oh, the silly photos parents take of their kids.

David Tennant has won Broadcasting House Cultural Figure of the Year award. Warm congrats to him, well done!

The website listed above is being used by Chinese criminals to STEAL your personal information! It is NOT, repeat NOT, as benevolent as it may seem! BOYCOTT this website, and pass this information on to your friends, not to buy from them, or you will LOSE hundreds, maybe even THOUSANDS OF POUNDS/DOLLARS/EUROS!!

I've been messing about tonight with Chapter three of Evil Waters, for my Wordpress blog. I know no one in particular has been reading these--to the best of my knowlege--so I don't suppose it matters if I post half a chapter here. It's just for the heck of it--back up, I suppose. I don't have any discs to save stuff on, and if--heaven forbid--I lose the use of this computer...or, for some reason can't get into Wordpress any longer--this is always on here, for posterity...which is better than if it's for my posterior, I suppose.

Anyway, I've been sitting here munching on a pineapple flavour candy cane--slowly munching the candy cane decorations off of the tree--and thinking of where I want this story to go and what I want to happen. I rarely take notes--unless I've just gone to bed and suddenly have this scathingly brilliant idea...or wake at 4am with some idea for (hopefully) witty dialog or something..then I'll grab a piece of scrap paper and start scribbling some notes. But, mostly, I make it up as I go along, and try to just work it all out in my head--probably a stupid way to do it, but what do I know? My training is in non-fiction! That's how I used to write my essays.

Of course, I couldn't write my feature articles that way, what with all the interview quotes and facts that I had to put in there. I was looking online for any free fiction writing courses that might be good--but most were stuff you had to either pay for, or they ended up wanting to sell you software or some such nonsense...and one or two were just so basic, and to be too remedial for my level. They were fine for beginning writers or young people (okay, to be not so polite, these types of courses were obviously written for "lazy" writers--the types that want "instant" results, rather than actually work at honing their craft). I call these online courses, the "Reader's Digest School of Writing." That's the company that sells abriged easy-to-read versions of popular novels.

Anyway, I can't tell you how much I miss writing classes. But, it's just me. I can't find a good website that gives decent feedback...too many snarky teenagers, or snippy, self-serving, know-it-all trendy types. Oh, sometimes I get complements, and it feels great--but NEVER anything constructive!

Complements are lovely, but I really rather have someone (politely) point out a flaw and give real solid advice aimed solely on help me improve--yet, what I get is, "You spelled such and such wrong." Nothing about structure, flow, character development, plot, etc. Just that I misspelled TWO words! Oh, and this same person later comented about a re-write of this story, "I don't get it." Nothing else, mind you--I fixed the spelling errors, and decided to change one short paragraph to make it "sound" better, and that's all she had to say? Blimey! Loved that...not.

I really, really miss my nit-picky English professors, and their sometimes whacky essay assignments. They used to give me some fantastic feedback--no holds barred, if something was wrong or wasn't working, they'd be right on my case (usually nicely, I'd like to point out), making sure I grasped what needed to be done. I didn't always enjoy the criticism, mind you--especially on a piece I'd bascially slaved over to perfect, but yeah, by my second year of classes, I realized how vaulable those little red pen marks on a page could truly be!

But, so far, I've not found their equivilent online...and maybe I never will. I work best in a classroom, group or one-on-one setting, anyway...I'm more of a hands-on, interaction type of person...love tossing a ball of thought around a room, see where it goes--sometimes my fellow students actually gave me some great ideas. And, hearing their own opinions and work was sometimes inspiring, as well. You can get close to that online sometimes--if you find the right people, but you really can't exactly duplicate live bodies thinking and interacting, right there in front of you.

At least, that's my opinion.

Anyway, time to go to bed--here's part of Chapter three I worked on tonight. Usually I prefer, when I do sit down to write some fan-fiction, to write a chapter all in one go...but sometimes I'm too tired or get too distracted, or simply have run out of ideas, temporarily, and have to leave it off. Tonight, I'm tired, my arthritis and nerve problems are plauging me slightly, so I am off to bed, before I can complete this chapter:

http://davidtennantsdoctor.wordpress.com/brand-new-dr-who-story/

EVIL WATERS---beginnings of CHAPTER 3
The Doctor had been about to sip his tea. Now, the mug hung halfway between the table and his lips, as his eyes widened in surprise..and wariness. “Come again?” he asked, for once truly taken aback. The old man eyed the Doctor knowingly over his tea mug, “You are the Doctor, aren't you?” he asked in a completely new voice, this time, with a slight Scottish burr. “ At least I hope you are, or I'm going to sound like a right git, talking about space ships and police boxes” He smiled reassuringly. “I'm with Torchwood's Scottish branch. Well,” he added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I am the Scottish branch, actually.”

Sipping his tea, the Doctor raised an eyebrow, and his expression grew warier still. This didn't go unnoticed by John. “Relax, Doctor.” He winked, “believe it or not, I'm on your side. I never did go along with that Doctor paranoia of Torchwood, thought it a bit rubbish, ma'self.” The Doctor set down his mug and returned the smile—only to become wary again, at John's next words, “Mind you, Doc, you are still a very dangerous man. You have an alarming tendency to bring about death and destruction wherever you turn up.”

The Doctor was silent for a moment, his eyes suddenly seeming ancient and sad. John sensed this, and looked at the Doctor through sympathetic eyes. “Yet, I know quite well, that if you didn't turn up,” he continued softly, “the death and destruction would be absolute, and mean the end of us all. Unfortunately for you Doctor, Captain Jack's predecessors didn't share my view.” The Doctor was silent and brooding for a moment longer. Then, he pushed his chair back, and stretched out his legs. “What's going on here, John? Why are people going missing? What has gotten the police so stirred up?”

Setting down his tea mug, John said, “It all began eight months ago, near Loch Lomond. A bright light was seen by some of the locals, low over the hills near Millarochy Bay, burning across the sky. Then, it disappeared into the loch—or at least that's what some of the witnesses claimed.

The Doctor folded his arms and leaned forward, suddenly interested. “And then what happened?”

Maybe the new year will be better? I don't expect it to be, but who can say what is, and what isn't?

In that vein, here's another arrangment by Rob Bourassa, which I found very pleasing:

When I was a teen, to me, a rainbow over my valley was a sign of new beginnings, of traveling forward, seeing and learning and hearing new things, of hope for the future, and of all that I could be.

I remember reading in Genesis, that God gave Noah a sign that the storm was over, by sending him a rainbow, and a dove with a branch. Maybe next year, my long and tiring storm will have ended at last. I don't like the word "hope" any more...to me all my hopes have continually proved false...still, I'm still here, still breathing, and where there's still breath, there's still one tiny flicker of life and hope, I suppose.

This is a nice piece on guitar, by Rob Bourassa (that's Bourassa, Whovians, not Borusa!)

It definately rates high as one of my more favourite religious Christmas tunes, and I rather liked this rendition--and the vintage guitar is pretty cool, as well.

Latest thing I've read about the upcoming special is that it shall feature all ten Doctor's...hmmm--interesting.

Oh, by the way, may I please ask all my British friends to NOT tell me what the episode is about? i won't be seeing it (unless by some miracle it appears on YouTube) until sometime in 2009--maybe. I don't want my enjoyment ruined by someone thoughtlessly telling me the plot!

I have been waiting for this rather delicious moment for months and months--and yes, I'll very probably have to wait some more--so please, DO NOT ruin it for me, ey? It's likely to be one of the very literal high points of my year, and I would not take it kindly if you spoil it, OK?

"Damn that traffic warden! I can't believe I forgot to put the anti-clamping device on my Tardis!

"Arrgh! Look at that mob at the Royal Mail office--I wonder if I can use the Tardis to jump the queue?"

jobs you’ve had
1. stablehand
2. telemarketer
3. amusement park ride operator
4. secretary in a muffler and brake shop

4 movies you could watch over and over
1. Arsenic and Old Lace
2. That Thing You Do
3. The Out-of-Towners (orig. verson with Jack Lemon)
4. Vertigo

4 places you’ve lived
1. Albany County, NY
2. Saratoga County, NY
3. Warren County, NY
4. Yellowstone National Park/Old Faithful

4 TV shows you love to watch
1. Doctor Who
2. Law and Order
3. Vicar of Dibley
4. West Wing

4 places you’ve been on holiday
1. Vermont
2. Iceland
3. Netherlands
4. Egypt

4 websites you visit every day
1. blog.co.uk
2. Post-star
3. Guardian
4. Gotofreegames.com/cribbage

4 of your favourite foods
1. pizza!
2. steak/prime rib
3. Arby's roast beef and cheddar melt sandwich
4. turkey cutlets in butter curry sauce

4 places you’d rather be
1. living in the UK (forever)
2. living in the country here
3. in a nicer flat or aparment
4. anywhere but where I'm at, right now...except, the deep south, New Jersey and Fargo North Dakota.

WHOOPS! Sorry, my copy/paste didn't pick up the last two! Sorry.

4 countries you've never been to but would like to visit

1. England
2. Scotland
3. Wales
4. Austria

4 songs you have listened to today

1. You Can Have it All
2. Go Your Own Way
3. The Ninjas
4. The One Who Loves You

Rules: answer with only one word

Yourself: slow
Your partner: never
Your hair: sheepdog
Your Mother: kind
Your Father: inconsistant
Your Favorite thing you own: painting
Your dream last night: Whovian
Your Favorite Drink: soda
Your Dream Car: vintage
Your Dream Home: country
The Room You Are In: lounge
Your Ex: never
Your fear: homelessness
Where you Want to be in Ten Years? peace
Who you hung out with last night: cats
What You're Not: hyperactive
Muffins: blueberry
One of Your Wish List Items: Whovian
Time: 8.23pm
The Last Thing You Did: eat
What You Are Wearing: sweater (jumper)
Your favorite weather: rain
Your Favorite (one-word title) novel: Rebecca
Last thing you ate: steak
Your Life: lonely
Your mood: sad
Your Best Friends: fantastic
What were you thinking about before doing this meme: Christmas
Your car: none
What will you be doing after you do this meme: thirsty
Your summer: Meh
Relationship status: single
What is on your tv: None
What is the weather like: blizzard
When is the last time you laughed hard: Friday
What day is it today: Sunday
What is your job: telemarketer
The Last time someone hugged you: none
The last time someone kissed you: none
Last time you went on holiday: 2004 (I know it's not a word, so sue me)
Last place you went on holiday: Egypt
Last person you posted something to: friend
Last time you got something other than a bill or advert in mail: weeks
Last time you purchased a new book: September
Last time you purchased a new CD: May
Favourite Television programme: Who
Favourite actress or actor: Jacobi
Actor you would like to most see in a play: Tennant
Last time you went to a cinema: years
Something you went to hospital A & E for: concussion
Something you were in hospital overnight for: transfusions
Your favourite place to drive a car: Argyle
Your favourite resturant: Roundup
Your favourite museum: Metropolitin
Best place to visit in London: clueless
Favourite pet's name: Shamrock/Redcat (tie)
Favourite article of clothing: t-shirt

Republican senators gave auto executives a tongue-lashing over the use of corporate jets...yet, most senators use jet travel, and, almost all the Wall Street firms which we just gave 700 million dollars to--they most certainly have NOT cut back on wasting money on corporate jets!

Stinking hypocrites! Paulson wants automaker's to go bankrupt, but cries foul when it's suggested another bank be allowed to do the same...Paulson is a Wall Street banker--I mean, talk about compounding stupidity on top of stupidity--Paulson KNOWS that the carmaker's going bankrupt--even in an "orderly" bankruptcy--will turn the recession into a near-depression...yet he's okay with that, but not with asking Wall Street firms curbing their million dollar executive bonuses, and corporate jets and other perks?

As long as Paulson and other deaf/blind/stupid people continue to run the finances in this country, there is NO WAY the recession is going to end, any time soon...did these morons that hold the nation's purse strings learn ANYTHING, after all this? I think, in light of all these revelations, the answer is a resounding NO. Don't untuck your tails between your legs just yet, people--with PAULSON...the man whom publicly insisted in MARCH Of 08, two months AFTER the recession officially began, that there WAS NO recession--this man in charge of the Treasury (and Obama has made no move to replace him, for reasons I'm sure are a tad unsavoury), there is NO WAY we are going to get out of this any time soon.

Hold on to your hats people--even with Obama "in charge," it's going to be one helluva bumpy ride.

Wow, if yesterday was a little odd, today is just proving itself to be INSANE.

Firstly, we're in the throes of a raging blizzard, police are telling everyone to stay off the roads---but is the office (which has a weather phone to announce closings) closed??? NO. With me there, there were all of about five people working in the office today--including the supervisor.

I wasn't getting anywhere--as suspected, most people were rude, or, if they were polite, were too broke to buy anything. And, one person died, and two went blind.

So, I am trudging home in the storm, walking on the road 'cos the snowbanks were getting too high for me to ascend them to cross the streets, and I see a fire truck outside my building, with a bunch of firemen standing around out in front of the outside door to my part of the building!

Trying to remain calm, I walked up to the building, to find out what the issue was--hoping they wouldn't have to go into my apartment, cos' quite frankly, it looks like a tip, at the moment, I haven't been feeling well, and haven't exactly been up to any cleaning--just making my bed and doing the dishes, stuff like that. I would have been embarrassed to the hilt, if they'd had to come in here (I promised myself I'd give the place a thorough clean on Tuesday morning).

Anyway, my hillbilly neighbours have a genuine in-bred relation, apparently. Oh. My. God. This girl, was trying to get into the building to visit, and no one was answering the knocks on the door, or her "hollers" so she decided to throw her shoe--remember, its a blizzard outside and there's over 12 inches of snow on the ground---she threw her shoe at my neighbour's window...but it landed on the roof, instead.

So, I get there, and the firemen have no intention of hauling out there ladder in a blizzard, and climbing out onto a roof--the paramedic managed to get her a shoe from somewhere. But the girl suddenly decides that I can lead her up the back stairs, to the vacant apartment, so I can crawl out the window to retreive her lost trainer...erm--no. Sorry. I climbed out of/into my last window in four years ago--nearly re-fracturing my kneecap, and decided once and for all that I'm too old for that nonsense anymore! Well, I might if you paid me really well, and had a doctor on staff.

Anyway, the girl was angry with me for not helping her--she was either mentally disabled or stoned out of her gourd, I'm trutfully not sure which, and absolutely wasn't getting what "Sorry, no, I can't" means!

Mind you, I'm always perfectly willing to help someone in distress, but, I do have to draw the line somewhere, for pity's sake! Spending Christmas alone, with a broken body part, isn't my idea of holiday cheer, thanks very much.

And, who goes out in a blizzard wearing trainers??? Aside from a certain time-traveling, multi-lived, regenerating alien, I mean? What a bunch of palaver!

When my neighbour's sister--who's currently rooming with her brother and assorted other relations--came along and let the strange girl inside, I did fetch out my old snow boots--the pair that sprang a leak in one foot, last year, but are still warm..merely worthless for walking in puddles with--and gave them away to her, so she could give back the shoe to whomever gave it to her--if she even remembers who that was, that is.

The firemen thanked me though, for trying to help, bless them. They thought the whole thing was quite hilarious.

So, I trudeged though the snow, to earn 9 dollars for one hour's work, didn't get thanked for being there, didn't make any sales--but got yelled at for my pains a few times--trudged home, and had to put up with this nonsense.

The snow has finally stopped, at 6pm here, I'm chatting with friends on Skype and thinking it's time to but my steak on the cooker, and my potato in the oven. Cheers.

Just rang up work to see if they were open, asked if I could come in for a bit, to work--it's normally my day off today--and...all I got was a very unenthusiastic, "Yeah, I suppose." Gee, don't be pleased, and certainly do not THANK me for offering to come in to work on my sceduled DAY OFF, ya' bllinking...

Gah, who needs this crap?

My blog stalker from work is back...thought he or she had gone away, but discovered him or her lurking on my roasting David Tennant blog. The lowlife. How low can you be, to go around stalking a co-worker's blog. I mean, very obviously this ISN'T a friend...none of my friendly work acquaintences live in the Corinth/Hadley/Lake Luzerne area.

There's Lori, my former supervisor, and a couple of chav co-workers, that I know of, that would have that location show up on their blog--the only internet service in that whole area is either through the one cable line, or through the phone company--Citizen's Communications. I don't think that's changed in the couple of years since I moved away from those two little mountain towns (which are neighbours).

I sort of feel violalted, when sick people do that. I mean, how sad do you have to be, so sneak behind a co-worker's back--someone who you barely even know--to dig into their personal life?

If this person wanted to be my friend, she (I think I know who it is, but since I can't prove it I'll say nothing) has had ages to simply come over to me and be friends. I'm not unapproachable, for pity's sake! I'd love to have a good friend here, but it's because of petty miserable insecure people like this, that I back off and stay away from trying to make friends.

I have had so many heaps of people--some I don't even know-- going out of their way to hurt me in my life, I refuse to go out and look for more. Human beings are incredibly mean and narrow-minded, and while they can also be caring and compassionate, I'm afraid I've had a lot more experience with the former, than with the latter. Now, I admit, I'm not always an easy person to get to know-and there's some sides of me people probably are uncomfortable with, and yeah, I'm likely not always an easy person to be around, sometimes, so why bother opening myself up to someone? At least, not someone here! Not gonna' happen. This Corinth/Lake Luzerne blog stalker is just the sort of person that justifies me, and shows me that I'm absolutely right--no matter how hard it is on me--to stay away from people!

This is really strange...I got an annonymous message that this blog was being boycotted. No reason why, no name attached to it...the e-mail address shown came back as bogus...I deleted the comment but...how strange is that?

I know sometimes I'm blunt, and also highly opinionated--perhaps too much so, but why say I am being boycotted, without giving a reason?

My stats are way way down--less than half of what I've been getting in the last week...but why would I care?

If no one reads me, I'd still probably post--and let's face it, the only one's I really care about reading my posts, are my friends..and even then, if you all stopped reading my posts, I might be a little sad, and feel a little lonelier, but...would I stop blogging, would I sulk off to my room and cry? Probably not. I'd just get on with it. I blogged for months on my first blog, often without getting a single reader in weeks. Now, I've been blogging on theis blog for over 2 years, and blogging in general since spring of 2006, so...boycott away, if all my readers leave me, unless I suffer a sudden turn for the worse in my illness, or go blind, or get in an accident or lose the use of a computer, or commit suicide---I probably will still be blogging when I'm completely gray and trading my desk chair for a bath chair.

so...sod your boycott. If you can't tell me what your problem with me is, then it can't be very important, can it?

Just kidding. I'm in a mood today...you would be too, if your health was rubbish, you had to work on your days off, to make up for being allowed to take Christmas day off at work, if you had to go out to a laundromat on a Sunday, then go to work--in the middle of a massive snowstorm, and, the bitter raw wind...and you realized today, that you won't be able to afford a converter box so you can watch tele without paying through the nose for it every month, like you have to do to get internet service.

I felt like saying something obnoxious, and rather than swearing, I decided to pick on David Tennant--why? Because. not a very good answer, but so what? I'm entitled to be a rotten human being at least one day out of 365.

I'm a telemarketer, I live at the poverty level, I no benefits on my job--no sick days, no holidays, zero. All I get is my laughable pay check. Furthermore, my promised raise of 25 cents more an hour is still 2 years overdue. I hate my life, I hate my job, I am sick of spending every single birthday and holiday--and basically every single day of the year, physically alone, I miss holiday shopping, I miss caroling and having someone help me decorate, and, basically I just plain don't like who I am and where I am, and I just plain feel like being bad today, Okay?

I need to make up for people being rude, rotten and mean to me, all week long--which I know they're going to be this week as well, 'cos it' Christmas.

I really don't mean good riddence, I was just messing about. I have a very deep and abiding respect for the man, and for his craft. I'm just not head over heels in love with him...guess I'm just past it for all that palaver. Fan-girldom just hasn't been the same for me, every since MacGyver lost his mullet and became a space guy.

Actually, I think David Tennant's a really cool dude...for some hyperactive workaholic Scottish bloke, I am genuinely sorry to see him diabled by a painful back injury at a time when he least needs this sort of bother.

But...I can't say I'd be sorry to see some of the fan-girls show me their heels...wow, some of these "girls"...aren't very feminine! In fact, I'd go so far as to say at least a handful of them are really in need of some good parenting and/or anger management therapy....in all seriousness, I actually have met nicer merchant marines, burly truck drivers, butch loggers and former IRA members, whom have spoken more intelligently, were more respectful and had nicer manners than some of these DT fan-girls have shown themselves to have, on this blog and elsewhere...seriously, I have.

These are NOT "fans," these are truly fanatics--David Tennant Jihad'ers with lipstick and life size standees of DT next to their beds. Well, sometimes they seem that way, the way they behave.

You can die from the weather in America, without being the victim of a natural disaster. All you have to be is cold, poor and/or, alone.

Last week, just outside this city where I live in, a 63 year old woman froze to death outside her home, after returning intoxicated from a party. Having apparently passed out in 13 degree fahrenheight temperatures last Friday night, before making the trek from her garage to her doorstep, it was three days before anyone found her...she lived alone.

In Alaska, a poor man was found inside his trailer, sitting at his kitchen table, wrapped in a sleeping bag, frozen solid. The temperature inside his mobile home was 15 F. The man had run out of heating oil, and wasn't able to get any more.

States leading in cold-related deaths include:

Alaska
Wyoming
Montana
New Mexico
North Dakota

And...
Washington D.C.---which has a very high poverty level and also one of the highest populations of homeless people, for a city of its size, in the entire USA. (God bless America?)

Runners-up include:
Colorado
Idaho
Minnesota
Michigan
Vermont
New York
New Hampshire

These stats don't include injuries from hypothermia and frostbite, merely deaths.

Alcohol consumption often plays a factor in cold-related deaths...not just from people passing out or losing their judgement, but also because, despite the warmimng sensation people may feel, alcohol actually makes one's body lose heat more easily.

In some states, heavy snowfall and driving also play a factor, as drivers and sportsmen get trapped in snow and if they are not winter-survival savvy, can freeze to death rather quickly.

Carbon monoxide poisoning also factors in to this--again, a cold related death here, last week, as a man surcumbed to a build up of deadly fumes from a portable heater in his garage, during a storm-related power outtage at his home. Also, some surcumb to gas fumes, when they are forced to use their gas cookers (ovens) as their only heating source (been there, done that).

And, the poor: Some people cannot afford to buy heating fuel, or, like what happened to me in 2005, cannot afford expensive repairs to a broken furnace. If someone can't afford a wood stove (or wood), or a decent portable heater (electric fire, kerosene heater, etc), or lives in a poorly insulated dwelling (like I do now), and have no access to state heating assistnce programmes...well...they freeze to death. Of course, the elderly are the most vulnerable in this situation.

These stats don't include people dying in fires, from using portable heaters too close to flamable objects.

Despite her image in the world, America is not a pot of gold, and not every American is rolling in cash and riches. Some of us suffer and die from lack of health care, some of us die from abuse, neglect and suicide, and, some of us freeze to death.

Egads, my internet is slow today! I'm SUPPOSED to have high-speed Roadrunner service, but this morning it's acting more like dial up! Took over five minutes just to connect me to IE! Which, considering I'm shelling out 50 dollars a month--an extra five dollar raise in cost, having been applied in November, in the middle of a bad recession--this isn't thrilling me.

Time-Warner cable sucks. I have to find a way to buy a converter box next week, before my discount coupon runs out, or else I might just as well throw my TV set away. Stinking arseholes and their stinking obliteration of analog--nothing like making things HARDER for the poor and downtrodden. I hear it's going to run me, even with the coupon, around 50 dollars for one of these stinking things...just to MAYBE get 1 or 2 televison stations. Yeah? And watch what? Rotten news programmes that repeat the same news story over and over and over again? Talk shows about people and topics that really have no meaning or impact on my life? Repeats of programmes, most of which I don't especially cotton to?

Is it worth it? Maybe I'll just continute to do without tele, for the rest of my life, sod the rich people and their stinking converter boxes, and cable TV and sat dishes, and posh mobiles that get internet, and Ipods, and laptops and wi-fi's and all that other palaver. They can afford television, good for them, I will just continue to be entertainment disadvantaged. Life sucks and then you die.

Well, we had around five or six inches of snow Friday, another two to three inches of snow, yesterday--right now, as I write this at half-past nine am Eastern time, on this Sunday morning, it's snowing to beat the band--with strong winds expected later in the day--and by the time everything is said and done tonight, we're to get another 8 to 16 inches (depending on terrain/the storm)...with another inch or two possible tomorrow, as well.

Well, at least the skiers, snowboarders and snowmobilers will be happy, 'round these parts. It'll be good for local tourism, at any rate, so maybe some more jobs will open up next month. The cold weather should help freeze the lakes more, as well, which will bring in more people for ice fishing season on Lake's George and Champlain, and all the other hundred or so of other lakes 'round here.

It's rather pretty, tho'. If I owned a camera, I'd be out taking some snaps. Not that there's that much opportunity for pretty shots of Glens Falls...bleh. "Hometown USA?" Dullsville USA, is what this city's motto should really be.

Still, I need to go out this morning to do laundry...if the cabs are running. Haven't seen any about, but if they are, doubt they'll be very busy today. Be a good day to go to the laundromat--and worse comes to worse, I could take shanks mare, bundle myself up, put on my wellies an lug a small bag to the laundromat over behind me a few streets over, on Bay Street. It's only a 15 or 20 minute walk. Wish I still owned a pair of snowshoes, ha-ha.

I made this version of an American-style shepherd's pie, earlier this month--made it up off the top of my head, and thought I'd give it a go again, it was quite tasty!

HERE'S A GREAT WEBSITE FOR EASILY DOING INTERNATIONAL RECIPE (weight, volume, temperature, etc) CONVERSIONS:

http://www.thatsmyhome.com/recipes/converter.htm

Nancy's deluxe shepherd's pie:

1 refrigerted (or homemade) pie crust (optional)
1 pound ground beef/mince
3 to 4 cups fresh mashed potatoes (I sometimes cheat, buying ready-made or instant mashed)
2 cups thawed frozen or cooked leftover, California style veggie mix: (broccolli, cauliflower, carrots)
1 Tablespoon worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons onion powder
1/2 teaspoon curry powder (or you can substitute 1 teaspoon of BBQ spices)
1 Tablespoon Bistro gravy (or, 1/2 TBLS concentrated beef base, found in the soup aisle)
1/2 cup warm water (add more if needed)

If using a bottom pie crust, pre-heat oven to 450 degrees. Line a pie dish with crust, and bake for 5 to 7 minutes. Remove crust and reduce temperature to 350 degrees.

In a deep skillet or dutch oven, brown ground beef. Drain off 98 percent of the fat. Stir in gravy granules and water, until a rich gravy is formed...dont' make it too watery, as one doesn't need much liquid in the pie. Stir in vegetables and seasonings, and simmer, uncovered, for about 5 minutes. Turn meat mixture into pie plate and spead out so it sits in dish evenly. Top with a layer of mashed potatoes, and bake for 15 to 20 minutes.

__________________________________________________________________________--

I was looking through one of mum's old cookbooks from the 50's, looking for some recipes I might want to try, next month.

HAMBURGER STEW

1 pound ground beef
1 large onion, chopped
3 large potatoes, peeled and diced
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can tomato soup
1 small can tomato sauce
1 tsp garlic powder--or 1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/4 cup A-1 Steak sauce (brown sauce)
1 can creamed or whole kernal corn (drain off water in whole kernal corn)
1 can cut green beans or peas, drained
1 1/2 cups Water

In a deep skillet or dutch oven, brown ground beef with onions. Cook until beef is brown and crumbly and onions are softened. Drain off fat, Stir in remaining ingredients...adding more water if needed. Simmer over very low heat for 50 to 60 minutes, or until stew thickens and potatoes are tender.

CALIFORNIA BBQ BEEF CUBES

1 pound beef cubes for stew
1 cup flour, seasoned liberally with pepper and a little salt
1 to 2 Tablespoons butter or margarine
1 can diced tomatoes with juice from can
1 can whole kernel corn, (include water from can)
1 packet, dry onion soup mix
2 Tablespoons brown sugar
2 Tablespoons cider vinegar (can substitute white vinegar, in a pinch)
water (optional)

Coat beef with seasoned flour. Melt butter in dutch oven or stock pot. Brown beef in butter, and drain off fat. Add remaining ingredients, blending well, and simmer over very low heat for 1 to 1 1/2 hours, or until meat is tender. Serve over cooked rice, halved buttermilk biscuits (similar to scones), thick slices of bread, taco shells, or cooked noodles. NOTE; if stew gets too thick, and starts to burn, stir in a small amount of water, as needed.

I just had a very rude and negative coment by some David Tennant fan-girl over across the border in Ontario, on my Roasting David (Tennant) blog, in regards to my poor spelling and such.

I told her off, but...in a way, she's right. I'm losing myself. I really did use to turn in perfect, or near-perfect copy, in college...just 3 years ago!

Now, I can't spell, I can't type, I'm not catching basic errors, I'm making stupid mistakes that I've not made since elementary school...like often writing "but" instead of "by," or writing "to" instead of "too," stuff like that.

I started a Dr Who story, and no one wants to read it. Someone asked to see a play I've been working on (all of one and a half pages of it), and they told me that it wasn't very well written.

I'm thinking of quitting writing. I'm not enjoying it as much as I used to, and seem to be losing all my writing skills. I don't want to write junk.

I only blog these days, out of habit, more than anything. My blog posts are getting more and more dull and lifeless. I rarely get visitors to my newer posts, unless they're about David Tennant and/or Doctor Who.

I'm sorry, but I'm really feeling down of late. Maybe it's just the winter blues, or the holiday, or maybe...I don't know. I just am questioning whether I should continue slogging away at something I so obviously am declining in ability in. Let's face it: it's hard to take pride in something you feel you truly suck at.

A couple of purely American fun little Christmas tunes, for your enjoyment (or not).

I forgot to take the meat out of the freezer! And, my cheezy little microwave doesn't thaw stuff very well...so, guess it's one of those naf little 89 cent beef pot pies for dinner...if I hadn't lost wages last week, for being out with that stinking concussion, and I hadn't given my sis that emergency loan for my nephew, I'd be laughing, 'cos then I could order some Chinese takeaway or a pizza or sub sandwich or something. I hate those stinking pot pies... But, at least it's not my great aunt Carrie's squirrel pot pie!

I can't believe I wrote this light comment about David Tennant, on my blog this morning:

I'm picturing Tennant at home, bored out of his mind, driving his friends and family nuts texting them every five minutes, or roaming about his flat or home, rearraging his DVD and CD. book collections--and his spice and/or wine rack, into alpabetical order, making sure the sheets on his bed are perfectly flat, colour coding his sock drawer...stuff like that.

Personally, I always thought he looks like one of these uptight dudes that are (ultra neat freaks) all the time. Glad he's not my boyfriend, guys like that are a pain in the arse to be around.

And, that I've gotten no hate mail, nasty comments from the fan-girl legion! Hmm--he's out of the limelight--both literally and figuratively--for just a few weeks, and already the fan-girl's are going elsewhere...straight to the arms of David Morrissey, from the looks of things!

Well, I got through my shift---what a bunch of nuts out there today--and I'm not talking about the kind in the fruitcake...although talking about fruitcakes....

...had one man say nothing but (I think), "nah-nah-nah." every time I spoke.

Then, I had some woman, after I patiently, calmly and politely tried to tell her--three times--that I can't do her cancellation, that I didn't have access to the computer that does that--she was agitated, but speaking in a normal tone until, suddenly, and quite abruptly, she began screaming at me--and I mean, at the top of her little old lady lungs, and I said, "Ma'am I would like to try and help you, but please don't scream at me." Then, the bitch cranked it up a notch, and then suddenly screeched---absolutely like some kind of wild animal, "GO TO HELL THEN"! At least, that's what I think she said, it was so venonous as to be more or less incoherant.

Wow. Hurt my eardrum, that did. And actually shook me a bit, and I went downstairs to the drinks machine to get a Pepsi. There's a woman in need of some pills, man. It just doesn't pay to use my Doris Day approach on some people, I guess.

Speaking of hurting my ears, I also had the old bang-the-phone-receiver-on-top-of-the-table-as-hard-as-you-can, bit.

I had the moron who pretends he or she can't speak English. Yeah, right. That works...not.

And, I had the woman who answered the phone, "STUPID!!" and then, slammed the receiver down.

My (imaginary) response: "Hello, Mrs. Stupid. And how are you and Mr. Stupid, and all the little Stupids, today?"

Gah--my job sucks, but, it's better than cleaning toilets and emptying rubbish bins for a living, trust me.

Well, it's been snowing all day, non-stop, but very lightly...only adding about another inch or two, so no big deal. Roads are a bit slick in spots, but no one seems to be having any issues---we northeastern New York natives, don't worry about snowy roads...we worry about out-of-towners and stupid people on the snowy roads...

-

...like the winter tourists: "Oh-my-God, Harry! What's all that white stuff? If you don't drive 10 miles an hour, we're all gonna' DIEEEEE!!!" Or, the young male driver, "Hey, I'm so butch, I can drive like it's mid-summer on an empty motorway, dude!" Or, the trendy upwardly mobile driver: "I drive like shite, but I've got this uber-cool SUV with Sat-nav, wi-fi, a votex manipulator, sirrus radio and four-wheel-drive, so I don't have to worry that the roads are slippery!"

Ah, the joys of winter driving...maybe I'm lucky I don't own a car any longer.

I HATE my job!

I don't wanna' go to work today! Can I stay home mum...puh-lease!

Well, I'm off to the salt mines--maybe people will be nice to this old crappy telemarketer today...meh-probably not...anyway, have a lovely day everyone

Hullo all,

I'm feeling a wee better today, at least the shoulder and hand twinges (from the pressed nerve) has largely stopped, my heart's beating almost normally, and I've not had any dizzy spells. Still tired, tho', but who cares about that? I can sleep in tomrrow--don't have to be to work until 2pm, and sleep in on Monday--ditto. And Tuesday I don't have to be in until 5pm...and of course, I get Christmas day off, which will be nice. Very generous of my employers. I remember last Christmas eve, we had to work until 6pm. That sucked. This year I get out at 1:30, so that's fine.

At the office when I first was hired, there used to be a secret santa and a in-office party--this year, they didn't even put up any decorations until the latter half of last week, and no Christmas bonus...well, we get to wear jeans to work (casual dress) for the rest of the month...oh whoopie, big perk. Nothing like working for a chav boiler room operation, ey? Not that I do anything for Christmas any longer--tho' a friend might be Skype-ing me, Christmas day, so I won't be alone, for a change--well, I'll only be alone in the physical sense, and not all the way around, like the last 3 years. Christmas totally alone--in case you're wondering...it goes beyond sucking like a Hoover...it's just rotten. You pretty much get used to it mind you, but it's still rotten.

It's snowing this morning--lazily, not the nasty blowing stuff like last night. Supposed to snow on and off all day. The roads are fair..not great, but not bad either. I reckon we got about 6 to 8 inches of the white stuff, all told, with more on the way, possibly, tomorrow. We won't be dreaming of a white Christmas this year--tho' some people who have to shovel the stuff, may be cursing it a little.

It's rather chilly out there though, about 9.1 F (minus 12.7 C), and not expected to get much warmer, for the next couple of days at least.

The cats are in a good mood this morning. Boots is making me laugh...my ancient old tele is sitting on the floor of the living room (presently being used as something to put my dvd shelf on, since I can't get a converter box like I planned, therefore rendering my TV completely useless except for watching old VCR tapes)...anyway, my ginger and white cat Boots, is going between sitting on the rug in front of the tele screen, admiring his reflection---no really, he loves to sit and look at himself, to sitting on the old Victorian chair next to my big front windows, watching the big snowflakes come drifting lazily down...oh, if we could only be as content and as easily amused as our pets!

Well, enough of my boring blather. Onwards with the more interesting stuff.

So, I've written a on here a couple of times, wondering about the Doctor's new companion....well, there's to be no companion (supposedly) for the first special--being filmed abroad somewhere--probably Europe I imagine--tho' it could be Las Vegas for all I know.

I've only just read, there's to be a different companion for all the other specials. Hmmm--Poor Doc, just can't keep his friends around. Poor bloke.

It's nice to know Mr. Tennant is up and about, and listening to his doctor's. The man's so hyper-active and a workaholic, I can just imagine how antsy he must be to get on with his job and his life. Well, it's not really a job I suppose, as more of a career. I have a "job," he has a dream come true, ha-ha.

It took me a long time to recover from my worst back injury--but then, I didn't have any medical insurance, and wasn't able to afford the surgery, and had to do most of my therapy in-home, by myself (with the help of a special book of exercises), and I'm sure with his money, Tennant is gettng top-notch care.

I'm picturing Tennant at home, bored out of his mind, driving his friends and family nuts texting them every five minutes, or roaming about his flat or home, rearraging his DVD and CD. book collections--and his spice and/or wine rack, into alpabetical order, making sure the sheets on his bed are perfectly flat, colour coding his sock drawer...stuff like that. Personally, I always thought he looks like one of these uptight dudes that has to have everything in perfect order all the time. Glad he's not my boyfriend, guys like that are a pain in the arse to be around.

He did have something really lovely to say about Mr. Bennant, who took over Mr. Tennant's role at the Novello: "I am very sorry to disappoint anyone who booked to come and see me in Hamlet, but confident that you will be far from disappointed by Edward Bennett's performance in the title role. He is one of British theatre's most promising talents and an opportunity to see his Hamlet, alongside the brilliant ensemble of actors that I have had the great pleasure of working with all year, is very exciting."

SCENES FROM WEST MOUNTAIN SKI AREA, APPROX. 3 MIS FROM THE CITY OF GLENS FALLS:

Tobbogan run I wrote about recently--I hope to give this a go, sometime in the next couple of months!

I must get scam e-mails dozens of times a week...all kinds, but the most common is this BS where they want you to pose as a relation to free up funds at a bank or whatever.

This one, is one of the worst written one's, I've had in a while:

Dear sir

thanks
John david

I feel like I've just gotten an e-mail from one of the Dukes of Hazzard.

In the wake of the suicide of a teenager due to an adult bullying her via the internet, the state of Missouri has enacted a law against what is now called, "cyber-bullying."

The first test-case is against a 21 year old woman, who was sending harrasing and "vulgar" text messages to a 17 year old girl.

The complaint alleges that the 21 year old was upset over a boy the two girls mutually knew, and began sending lewd texts and threatening voice mail messages to the girl. These allegedly went from calling the teen names like, "pork and beans," to an outright threat of rape. The girl also alledgedly had eggs, tacks and cans of beans thrown at her car.

(BEANS???)

The defense attorney in the case calls it a "bad law," and claims it criminalizes behaviour that ordinarly would be considered "normal." The case goes to court in early January.

This from the lips of the esteemed Russell T. Davies, OBE, when asked if David Morrissey will be really be the next Doctor Who: "Well, he isn’t the new Doctor in series five – David Tennant doesn’t regenerate into him . ."

Ah, but, David Tennant is scheduled to regenerate in the Christmas 2009 special...which isn't part of Series 5! (Series 5 doesn't begin until 2010.)

Really, I can wait. I really love Tennant's Doctor so much, I want to soak up the glow for as long as I can, before losing Ten possibly forever...or until the musical comes out, ha-ha.

Well, I'm going to bed at the ungodly hour of 11pm, since I'm a wee under the weather tonight...and now the nerve in my right shoulder is playing hell (a bone spur in my neck presses on the nerve once in a blue moon), so staying up to type chapter three of Evil Waters (my new Who fic) is more or less out of the question, as this also effects my right hand--I can only type in brief spurts of two or three minutes...I don't mind being my age, but it would be a lot more nicer if I still had the fitness of my 45 year old self, ha-ha!

Well, hopefully the teenager's upstairs won't be having a party, on account of the rubbish weather--still light snow and freezing fog, but now it's minus 13 C out there. Just the sort of weather to hold a clam bake and a Hawaain luau, ey?

Okay, that's just stupid. There's an ambulance wailing away down the street, going only about 25 miles per hour..which would be fine...only...there hasn't been a car by on the street, in almost a half-hour. The streets are flippin' deserted!

Boobycakes--whomever she or he is, sent me this one. So, I need to kill a few minutes, what the hell?

CHRISTMAS MEME II

1. What holiday programmes do you plan on watching this year?
Absolutely nothing. I don't get television in my home, there's no place I can rent videos from and I have no Christmas DVD's--best I can do is maybe something on YouTube, perhaps. Mostly, if I watch anything, it will be DVD's I already have--I have just over 25 films, and all of Dr Who series I, II and III, as well as a couple of series 4, and a few misc. Brit-coms that have been sent to me. Mostly probably Dr Who and some of my various Films--and maybe that new ITV sci-fi series, possibly.

2. What is the best gift you bought for someone this year?

I gave a disabled co-worker, who has kids and has been having a rough time of it lately, $50.

3. Have you done your Christmas shopping yet, if yes, when did you do it?

I really don't have anyone (other than myself) to buy for here. My sister doesn't celebrate Christmas at all, and I've no one here but the cats. I did about half my shopping--bought the cats some toys and two tins of tuna fish, and bought a little something for the daughter of a friend. Despite the fact that she doesn't celebrate Christmas, sis is going to be getting (after Christmas), a $20 gift card to Pizza Hut, and my nephew (when he gets out of jail) will get probably a gift card to either Old Navy or Aeropstotle or whatever the name of the clothing company is, that's so popular with the kids over here.

4. Black Friday: In the United States, that's the big first shopping day after the Thanksgiving holiday. Did you go shopping? In the United Kingdom, that's the day after the holiday, when everyone is hung over, bruised and battered from too much drink. Have you ever suffered on Black Friday?

No, I've never actually been shopping on Black Friday over here. Not my thing, really. There's just as good--or better, bargains, in the after Christmas sales.

5. What Christmas stands out to you as the best Christmas? The worst?

The best. Gee, I think in 1979, for once the whole family was there, I got some really lovely surpise gifts..and things I really wanted, everything went smoothly, no fights, everyone liked what they got, Christmas eve was...memorable and enjoyable. It wasn't so much the gifts, as just...the peace? A rare thing in my highly dysfuctional family, indeed!

The worst. Oh, that would be Christmas 2005. Mum had just died a month before, and it was literally my very first Christmas completely alone. Oh, and it wasn't pretty, it was cold, I was out of work--couldn't find a job to save my life...it was kind of scary, I suppose. Also, the furnace and boiler were both broken, and I was reduced to living in one room, I was also sometimes hungry...my Christmas dinner was a 1 dollar frozen turkey TV dinner. No one remembered me until after Christmas. I got a 50 dollar gift card from someone on the 26th--which was lovely, really, and two other Christmas cards a few days later...but the weeks leading up to Christmas were miserable, frightening and lonely. I got my first foreclosure warning notice just a few days before Christmas. 2006/2007 also sucked, but not as bad as that first Christmas alone.

6. Did you buy yourself a Christmas present this year?

I buy myself prezzies every year, since 2005. I bought a paperback book in 2005, and I think I did the same in 2006. Last year I bought myself a new model horse and...I forget what else. This year, I fared much better. My "big" prezzie was a decorative storage trunk with a western theme. I also got myself (on sale of course) a new pair of jeans, a pair of trousers for work, and a video.

7. If you had a rich uncle, who told you to make out a Christmas list, anything you wanted, for Christmas this year, what would you ask for?

A pair of flannel pyjamas, a model train set, a new model horse, a bookstore gift card, and some Dr Who stuff, cat toys and a new flea comb for the cats, snow boots, a dressy winter coat, packet of underpants and/or some warm socks, a haircut, maybe some nice perfume...I'm just making this up--honestly, I really can't think of anything in particular. Of course, if I were greedy, I'd say that I'd love a weekend in the UK and a Ford Ranger, a pre-paid credit card to buy clothing, and money to spay Flamey... but--if this were a real-life situation, I wouldn't ask for anything like that, that's not my style I'm afarid.

8. Favourite Christmas beverage?

Don't really have one, unless it's gingerale or hot cocoa. (Yes, I'm quite dull)

9. What will you be doing this Christmas eve?

Nothing much. Sitting around, eating cheese and crackers or popcorn, watching DVD's, listening to music, blogging. Usual stuff. Maybe go for a walk to look at the holiday lights on some of the houses, if it's not too cold or icy.

10. christmas feast: what do you plan on having this year?

Pork loin rib roast, brussel sprouts, mashed turnips (swede), pork flavour instant bread stuffing, apple sauce, strawberry ice cream.

DAMN--the kids just came home with what sounds like their friends, and yeah, the banging and crashing and laughing have started already...so much for sleep tonight, dagnabbit.

I'm glad I decided not to go with that fan fiction website that expressed interest in putting my stories on there...I'd have to write a new complete story every single month--and it's not that I couldn't do that, but, would I even want to?

I have two fan fiction blogs, devoted to Dr Who. One, is older stories from 2006-2007, the other is newer fiction...all "ten" stories, written for the most part within the last 12 months. While nearly all this fiction had been previously posted on various blogs and two fan-fic websites, in June I decided to put them altogether...the older fic on one blog, the new stuff on another.

I looked at the stats for those two websites. On the newer Dr Who fiction website, in the last 7 months, I've had a sum total of 412 visitors. Even tho' I'm mathematically disabled, I do figure that to average about a half a visitor a day. The most popular post, "Rain of Terror" (probably only because it's first on the list), in 7 months, has been looked at (but not necessarily read) 214 times. I reckon that comes out to almost one whole visit to that story a day, in the last roughly 200+ days. Wow, aren't I a popular fan-fiction author???

Maybe I should send a sample portfolio to Russell T. Davies.

Erm--maybe not.

I'm not complaining, honest. Every few months or so, someone comes along and tells me he or she enjoyed one of my stories, and that never fails to knock my socks off, in sheer amazement. I mean, I just get so chuffed when someone says I made them happy 'cos I wrote some daft thing I made up at (usually) two or three O'clock in the morning.

Really, I am not a popular fan-fic writer, partly 'cos I don't do "Who-porn," but, mostly I think, because I nearly always prefer to write in actual proper (if slightly shorter) paragraphs--I REFUSE to dumb down my writing for a certain segment of educationally lazy Dr Who fans. I figure I was reading proper books with proper paragraphs by age 9, and I don't reckon today's kids are stupid, and they do the same...it's, sadly, some of the teens to adults that seem to have a serious problem reading paragraphs online. No idea why...I read boooks and newspapers online all the time...with proper paragraphs.

Another reason I'm not a popular Who-fic author, is that I sometimes write quite long stories, and some people prefer short-short stories...which is fine. I sometimes do, as well. I mean, one time I may be engrossed in a short story by Raymond Chandler ("Goldfish," "Nevada Gas") or Mary E. Wilkins Freeman ("The Revolt of Mother," "Old Woman Magoun"), and then another time, prefer something lighter, like from Louis L'Amour ("The Sixth Shotgun," "Off the Mangrove Coast")... or even Dave Eggers' short-short stories in the Guardian.

Heck, I'll even read the back of a cereal box, or the Sun online, if I get desperate enough.

Also, I really never have spent any time in the classroom, studying how to write fiction...I honestly haven't a clue, so I my fiction stories can be written a bit haphazardly. Sometimes, writing is a joy, and sometimes...it just feels like work. And, I'm guessing that that may show up in my writing sometimes as well...like with chapter two of Evil Waters that I posted on here yesterday morning--well, this morning, it's not even 9 o'clock at night here, yet. I wrote it, 'cos I just wanted to get on with it, and I imagine that it would reflect that.

Someone suggested I transfer my stories from Wordpress to blog.co.uk--not sure why. If anyone is actually reading this post, and would like to give their opinon of this idea, I'd welcome the feedback.

I wish I hadn't seen the ending of this video...so here's your warning: it does contain a spoiler in the last roughly 10 seconds, of a never-before-seen clip from the special.

However, you will be safe if you click the pause button after Tennant's last line on the interview, "There's always the universe," you'll not see the clip.

Apparently, I've held down a key too long, and now my keyboard and the computer is acting all weird...hopefully I can figure it out...something about a "filter key." What the heck's a filter key? Damn.

I took this test honestly...even tho' a couple of the questions really don't apply to me--I have no plans, for instance, for ever writing a novel--and, I scored a "16."

Still, all that confindence (and ego) I had 7 or 8 years ago, it's...gone. I think if you showed my work to a publisher or even to a truly professional writer, they'd merely shrug and say, "meh--it's ok." If, that is, he or she were even being that kind. Which is about what I'd expect, so certainly I wouldn't be crushed or disappointed. If I'm a "writer," I'm only average, there's nothing special about my writing...no one flocks to read my fan fiction or my other work. I'm okay at features and essays--but truth to tell, I'm not wowed by factual writing. I mean, I'd still somewhat enjoy it, but really, I'd rather write fan fiction just for fun, than some naf little newsletter article.

Maybe if I'd finished my schooling, thing would have been different for me. Maybe not. My professors in my two-year school, were 60/40 towards my writing, most liking it, some not. In my four year college, only one out of four was even remotely wowed by my writing skills, so, you know, I really don't believe in myself, anymore...at least not enough to want to waste my energies trying for something I have no remote hope of obtaining--those days are long past.

I'm not a starry-eyed teenager, I have to live in the land of reality, where dreams are replaced by the need for survival.

This was only some stupid test, anyway, and doesn't mean a damn thing, so

THE CLARKE PATENTED "AM I REALLY A WRITER?" TEST
(Asking your writing group, tutor, or best friend to help you fill out this test is cheating. So is asking a writer to do it for you, such as Margaret Atwood.)

How to score this test:
Count up the numbers of the answers you have selected. If you have a total of:
12-16: You seem to have what it takes. I'll see you in print one day.
17-25: Time to get serious. Take one giant step into a professional attitude.
26-35: What a dweeb. Quit dreaming and get a life.
36-48: Jerk extraordinaire! Out of my sight, thou posturing ninny!

Well, the storm hit around 1pm--as predicted, for a change...who'd have guessed that?

It's coming down hard and fast, and within two hours, all the roads are snow-covered, despite all the snow plows being out, it's snowing so hard, that it's covering the ground faster than it can be plowed or shoveled. If it keeps up into the night, guess we will have about 6 inches by morning. No big deal, the main roads will be pretty much clear--merely wet, by sometime tomrorow afternoon.

I'm going to bed again--once again today I've got the dizzness, heart flutters, and chest pains, so I guess a lie down is in order--I'm fine, it happens sometimes, it's not my heart, my heart's been checked and it's OK, so no worries. I just need a bit of rest and I'll be right as rain in a couple of hours.

I accidentlly left the cat food bag in the cab, and the driver says it's gone, so someone took it...well, maybe they needed more than I, at least, that's what I tell myself to make myself feel better...but now I have to spend more cash and book out to the shop tomorrow, to get more. Damn. Well, the cats'll be happy, cos' they'll be eating tinned tuna tonight and tomorrow morning. Purrs all 'round then, I reckon. Charlie is enjoying watching the snowfall. He's got his very rotund bottom plopped on an old straightback chair I have next to the balcony window, alertly watching every whirling snowflake...I've discovered that he also likes to watch the snow plows, as well.

Actually, here in the north country, a good snowplow crew can be interesting to watch...you've not lived until you've seen syncronized snow removal, done with military precision, let me tell you!

What can I say? I'm easily amused.

Nope, not gonna' do it....I mean, that's like buying a good mystery book, then reading the last chapter first, to find out who did it...if you know what's going to happen, why bother even watching the damn thing, people??

Cripes! Do you ask to see your Christmas presents before someone wraps them? Do you stand there and watch someone fill your Christmas stocking?

Then why spoil the surprise of Christmas day for yourself? Why ruin a really good programme, take all the joy out of it for yourself?

How very dull of you! You might as well be walking around with a bag on your head, quite frankly.

A few tantalizing teasers are OK, but I've been coming across people who want to know EVERYTHING about the Christmas special--what a bunch of unimaginative boors.

Well, I am not caring so much about the next actor to play the Doctor--just for the record. I merely want to enjoy Mr. Tennant's time in the role, while I can.

And, I think you'll all be wrong, quite frankly. I think it will be someone no one has a clue about...but, that's just my opinion.

Anyway, here's the latest list of the odd's-on favourites, and Serie Five comes to the post in 2010:

Taking a turn around the Tardis paddock are....

David Morrisey
James Nesbitt
Catherine Zeta-Jones
Patterson Joseph
John Simms
Lesley Sharp
Rhys Ifans
Paul McGann (again)
Robert Carlyle
Catherine Tate

And far behnd trailing the pack is...Andrew Sachs.

Well, going to be a long, long day. A bit of a snowstorm our way today--up to 7 inches possible..though in southern New York, ironically, they will be getting as much as 15 inches, mostly in the Cattskill mountains. We aren't to get hit with the storm until late morning or mid-afternoon here, so I don't have to worry about the office being closed. However, another big snow storm--as well as an arctic-like freeze, is supposed to be in the works for Sunday..so, by Christmas we may have over 12 inches of snow on the ground, here...so, white Christmas for us lot, then.

Meh--probably all we'll get is another four or five inches like earlier this week, no big deal. Life goes on in these parts for that piddling amount, just slows down a little if the snowfall comes down real hard and heavy, or is mixed with icy rain.

I wrote a long-ish and not very exciting Dr Who story partly based in Las Vegas a year ago, called The Pyramid Project. I was thinking of doing one again--only this time, the Doctor plans on landing in ancient Egypt, but instead ends up at that Luxor hotel in Vegas...again. It's just a thought, mind you. I still have to finish the one I'm writing now.

Well, it's 8am, and I've had my breakfast, and have to finish getting ready for work...ho-hum. i wonder how many people I won't sell anything to, today? Still feeling a little unsteady..heart palpitations...probably should get my anemia seen to, after the holiday. I have to work extra next week, to make up for having Christmas off--god forbid our employer should do anything like pay us for having the day off for a national holiday.

Have a good day all.

A black man may be president, but that won't change my country, or draw it out of the darkness of mass bigotry, or the dark pit of ignorance she insists on dwelling in, I'm afraid.

Don't be looking to Obama to change anything, that's as much of a pipe dream as hoping for the US to sign a global environmental treaty.

This week, the United States of America, had the opportunity to show the world that it is progressive, educated and truly a democratic society, ready to lead the new global community...and, just like a toddler--which in a sense it still is, as far as the age of the country goes--just like a wee one, still learning to walk, the United States fell flat on its face!

The United Nations presented a declaration to decriminalize homosexuality--and the US flatly refused to sign it!

66 other nations, including ALL of the members of the European Union, signed it. Japan signed it, and even the very Catholic neighbour of the United States, MEXICO, signed it!

However, the US has declared that there are "legal questions" that haven't been answered, and backed out.

HORSE. PUCKY. It's not the legal questions, people. It's the white trash, deliberatly uneducated, bible-thumping, gun-loving, bigoted, paranoid conservatives! Let's call a duck a duck here, yeah?

I so want out of this stinking backwards country. I talk to people from trailer parks in Kentucky, to expensive homes in Hollywood, and everywhere in between...trust me, the stupidity in America knows no financial or cultural or regional boundries. People in California and Arizona, are just as rude and ignorant, as people in Minnesota or Georgia.

So, it's about three in the morning, and I've only just now finished chapter two of my latest story. I'll post it here, but it's okay if no one reads it, I simply have nothing better to do. I'll add it to chapter one on my Wordpress fan-fiction blog, later, perhaps. This is really a rubbish story, I barely even know what the plot is, myself. I'm just writing to have something to do, really.

You'll have to excuse they way it's been printed on here. I'm using a new word processor, "office," which was free. I've always used Word, so am still trying to figure this free software out--not crazy about it-it doesn't seem to be as copy/paste friendly as Word was, as you can see by the gaps in the story--I'm too tired to fix them, and besides, i honestly don't expect anyone to bother reading it, so who cares?

Now, I have to head back to bed, since I'm feeling a wee better. Have to get up at 7 to go to work, so I'd best get on with it.

_____________________________________________________________________________

The officer with the mountain bike was speaking into his radio, when a strange buzzing noise sounded, and the transmission went dead. The two officers looked at each other with puzzled expressions, and then down at their prisoner. The man was fully conscious and sitting up, holding out a device rather like a thick pen, with a blue glowing tip instead of a ball point. He grinned cheerily at them, and then he said, “Not that I wouldn't like a tour of your police station, constable, but you now how it is; places to go, things to see, planets to save...” Then, without further preamble he sprang up and took off down the canal path. With twin shouts to halt, the two officers hotfooted it after the Doctor.

As he ran, the Doctor spied a bicycle lying against a tree near the canal, which one of the narrowboat owners had just left. Grabbing the bike, the Doctor climbed on and began peddling for all he was worth. The policeman on the mountain bike pedaled furiously after him. Sparing a quick glance over

his shoulder, the Doctor noted that the man was gaining on him, then he looked forward again—almost too late, as a jogger with a big dog on a lead came at him down the narrow path. The Doctor had no choice but to slow down, having no desire to injure an innocent person. The policeman was just a hair's breath behind, reaching out with one hand to grab the flying tails of the Doctor's coat, when a bridge
loomed up on the left, the doctor quickly rode across the bridge, and onto the pavement of the town. Pedaling back towards the direction he'd come from, the Doctor dodged moving cars, shoppers and strollers, still with the policeman hot on his coat-tails.

Just then, a police car, lights flashing and siren wailing, pulled out from a cross street, blocking the Doctor's path. Without hesitation, the Time Lord hung a hard right into a narrow alleyway. Which, as it happened, turned out to be a dead-end. The Doctor, breathing heavily, whinged, “Oh, now that's just not fair!” Then, he noticed a fire escape on the left side of a crumbling brick wall. It was blocked off by a wire gate, and lot of the steps on the bottom half were missing, but it seemed to be the only way out.

The policeman on the bike turned into the alley, and saw his suspect leaping over the short gate and shimmying up the thin edge of the fire escape, on the edge of the former step supports, only an inch or two wide. The Doctor, using the handrail as a support, did his impression of a highwire act, quickly but carefully placing one foot in front of the other, inching his way towards the crumbling iron platform halfway up the side of the building.

Ditching his bicycle, the policeman cursed under his breath, and followed the Doctor. Gaining the platform, the Doctor used his long legs to their full advantage, running up the rest of the staircase to the top of the building. He'd just reached the top of the old fire escape, when with a metallic groan of protest, the step gave way!

For a long few seconds, the Doctor hung there in space, his burgundy trainers dangling in the air, coat-tails fluttering in the breeze. Three stories below him was a strip of concrete pavement, littered with broken glass, bits of discarded machinery and other rubbish. Then, he got a better grip with his fingers on the edge of the building, and with a mighty heave, flung himself onto the roof, rolling away from the edge. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, and giving a sigh of relief. The Doctor didn't dawdle though. He quickly sprang up, and was off again, dashing across to the other side of the roof.

The next building over was adjoining the roof, so it was only a matter of jumping down a meter or so, to the next roof. Below him, the Doctor caught a glimpse of policemen and pedestrians, staring up at him, gesticulating excitedly. He ran from roof to roof for a few minutes, then...ran out of roof.

The Doctor looked down, worried, as there seemed to be no way off the roof of the last building on that particular row. There was no door and no ladder. The police were closing in on him again. Just then, a tractor hauling a trailer piled high with hay slowly rumbled by on the street below, and taking a deep breath, the Doctor jumped down. Burying himself in the straw, he comfortably rode a ways down the street, but, then noticed a road block up ahead. Looking carefully around, the Doctor swung down from the hay bales, and slipped down to the pavement once again.

Hearing shouts getting closer, The Doctor knew he had to escape and soon. He was standing by the canal, when he noticed a ladder leading down to the water, with a rowboat tied up to it. Flinging himself down the ladder, the Doctor picked up the oars and rowed for all he was worth to the other

side of the canal, ending up only about ten meters from the Tardis. Clambering up the bank, the Doctor sprinted for his machine—but, before he could get there, an old man grabbed him, yanking the Doctor nearly off his feet. The Doctor looked around wildly at the man, “Wh-what?” He stammered, in sheer disbelief that after all that, he'd been caught by some old man.

The old man shook his head, “It's alright mate, I saw the whole thing, they's nowt they've got on yer, they was just lookin' to beef up their arrest record, most likely. I saw yer arrive in that funny box, don't reckon you had nowt to do with no murder.” The Doctor looked at the old man, as he allowed himself to be lead towards a nearby narrowboat. The man was short and wizened, wearing an old jumper and baggy trousers. He lead the Doctor down the stairs and sat him down on a bench. The old man admonished his guest to stay there, and left. A few minutes later, the Doctor heard the engines start up, and in seconds the boat was underway, headed down the canal.

After a short time passed, the boat's engine cut out again. The Doctor heard movement on deck, as the old man tied the boat up again, a few miles down the canal from the town. The man came back down to the little cabin, bearing two mugs of tea in his hand. “My name's John, this is my boat.” The Doctor took the mug. Thanks.” He said. Then, he held out his hand. “Hello John, I'm the Doctor.” The man shook his hand and then sat down. “Yes, I know.” He said dryly. “Only one man in the universe has a space ship that looks like a police box, can't be anyone else.”

This entertainment news report contains breif, never-before-seen clips of the Christmas special

Whoa, well..my anemia, blood pressure or diabetes is playing up tonight--bent down to put down some fresh water for the cats, straightened...and fell down! Wow, bad dizzy spell, lips got numb, couldn't get up for a minute...worst spell I've ever had. Can't spare the cash, but guess I'd better make an appointment at the health centre and get myself checked, and get back on my medications. Won't do to be caught falling down on the job, ha-ha! (I'm fine, really, it didn't last long--suspect it's anemia, for reasons I won't disclose here)

Here's a cool song from one of my fav albums:

I don't know the person who sent me this, but I'll give it a go, I suppose.

The Happy Meme:

1) What makes you happy?

Writing or chatting online with friends, my cats, a good book, Dr Who, when I'm on a roll with writing something and the words are just pouring out of me (not that that happens often enough, LOL), when I'm seeing a play or in a theater class or something, when I am in a class learning something really cool, seeing new places, going for drives in the country (sorry about the whole carbon footprint thing), being around horses and other animals, genuinely helping someone, when I've made someone smile or laugh, when I'm getting a warm hug (a rare event these days), anytime I'm outside doing something (that's not errands), going out somewhere fun (bowling, play, cinema, amusement park, crazy golf, etc), window or real shopping (for pleasure, not for stuff I need), a nice quiet and relaxing meal, looking at the stars at night--especailly in late summer/early autumn when the crickets are out, browsing antique shops, ditto saddle shops, listening to music, going to museums and/or historic places, doing flower arranging, looking at model trains, playing board games with someone (which I don't get to do, any longer), being outdoors in nature, browsing flea markets-auctions-book sales-garage sales, watching old movies, watching old USA Queer Eye episodes (those guys always make me laugh--and they talk about cool stuff, as well), going on a picnic, just walking around a nice city downtown and looking about, chillin' on a park bench, sunrises and sunsets, new snowfall and spring rain, melancoly autumn days, summers near a lake or on the river, being in the country or the mountains. ---WHEW! Long list!

2) What is true happiness for you?

That's a tough question, but I suppose it's just being outside, in nature, soaking up my surroundings, and living in and enjoying the moment, second by second....and, when I'm in the throes of writing something, when my writing is just flowing out of me, to the point where it almost feels like someone else is doing the writing and I'm just the vessel--that gives me great joy...and again, when I've made someone smile or laugh, or simply to feel better--especially someone who might have been feeling down--that really makes me so very happy. Physically being with a friend--I've not hung out with a friend since April of 2005, and it is such a joy when I do get that rare pleasure, you have no idea. And, of course, when I've got a fairly stable and secure home life.

Sounds sappy and totally pathetic, probably?

Okay, well, I'll make something up then: winning the lottery, thumbing my nose at the everyone and sailing around the world on my yacht...

3) Tell us about a time when you felt true happiness

One example I can think of, is when I was sitting on top of an Icelandic horse, in an old volcanic crater on a hilltop outside of Reykjavik, and had the world's purest air bloiwing in my face--breathing it was like drinking the world's purest and most refreshing ice water--and I realized that I'd been destitute and homeless only 6 years before (only for 1 month) living in the more dire conditions than most of you could ever imagine--plus, I'd never dreamed I'd ever actually get to travel outside the USA, and yet, there I was, in 2001, in blinking ICELAND, sitting on top of a horse, just a few miles from the top of the world. That was an earth-shattering moment in my life, and I carried the high of that moment for months, afterwards.

4) What would you be ready to do in order to make the world a happier place?

Do what I can to help the poor eat better and feel more secure and feel less alone in their lives.

I could try to find a way to make people smile more (in a nice way, not with swearing insult humour).

I would see to it that kids (and adults) had access to classes in essential manners--not stuffy deportment nonsense, just how to be polite and respectful and how to behave in certain situations...on the broad theory that if we all treated each other nicer and more respectfully, we'd all be just a little bit happier.

I'd try to see that more people suffering from physical and/or mental illness or are elderly, that are alone, have someone to "buddy" them--especially on holidays or when they are particularly ill--especially people with limited means.

5) Are you happy?

Oh yeah, I'm little miss sunshine. Not. More like Victor Meldrew, I suppose these days, ha-ha.

Someone just e-mailed me a couple of my horoscopes--how the hell they found out when my birthday was, seems really odd...I must have it posted somewhere, I suppose.

From your current vantage point, your options may seem very clear cut. However, they're about to change, and dramatically. In fact with both the Sun and the courageous Mars encountering your ruler Pluto before the end of the year, sudden events could revolutionise both circumstances and your vision of your life in the future

Ooh, that doesn't sound good. Hope it doesn't come true-'cos my experiences with changes, more often than not, aren't positive ones!

The year begins with a scuffle of activity, learning, and communicating, dear Scorpio. Tending to errands, handling paper work, and networking are important matters now. For you, 2009 will be a banner year for family, home, and domestic matters, and you’ll begin to feel this energy towards the end of January. Opportunities to expand, develop, and derive more enjoyment from your family and home life crop up. Some of you will be moving into a bigger home and/or welcoming new additions to your family. A surprising romantic or creative opportunity arises on the 23rd.

Dear heavens! What a bunch of blather! Does anyone really believe in this nonsense! A bigger home, indeed...welfare motel, perhaps. Or a mental hospital. Romantic or creative opportunity? ME? Horse pucky!!

So, I've very probably got some bad news hanging over my head now--I suppose I could just swan off and not answer the telephone, or call them back or open my mail (it's what I've been forced to do with my student lenders, alas)--yet, if nothing else in life, I know that all the procrastinating in the world, all the denial and/or pretending, won't make it go away--it'll just postpone things, and maybe, increase my anxiety more.

After the hell I went through last year, with the loss of pay and the garnished wages, the hospitalization and the BS that Social Security put me through, trying to reactivate my benefits so I could concentrate on getting well, and not literally working myself into an early grave...I gave up. Oh, I still try...but I also just don't care if I lose. I will fight to a point now....but then if things don't turn out well...I WILL give up. I promised myself that...I've gone past caring...the only thing that keeps me going is sheer stupidity...I don't know when to just lie there and stay down for the count...I want to, I just have this stubborn streak that won't let me...but, that said, I must tell you the truth and that truth is, sooner or later I will have to let life KO me, and take it.

Why the hell didn't they send me a letter? Why the hell are they calling me?---wait, I have a notion. For one thing, how did they get my mobile number? I didn't give it to them. Tho' my social worker has it, and National Grid has it, and my employer has it, so I guess that's plausable...and of course, I suppose the state of New York has the power to track down people's mobile numbers.

Still, I keep hoping it's just a wrong number. With a lay off looming in January, the last thing I really need, is a hefty fine--or any fine at, realistically. Even 25 dollars would hurt, in January.

Every once in a while, a little past 11pm at night, eastern time, I get an "restricted" number ringing me up. I rarely have my phone on, that time of night, so I've never answered--and probably won't, either, 'cos I don't know anyone with a blocked or unlisted number, as far as I know, who would be rining me up at that hour of the night. All my friends have my e-mail address, or have a blog on this site and can simply message me, if it's really important...and three of my four very best friends, can also Skype me, as well.

I really want to finish writing Chapter two of my new Who fic piece....but as much as I love writing? Honestly? Some times it feels like work, and I really have to force myself to knuckle down and work--of course, sometimes I write my best stuff, sitting in my night shirt at 3 in the morning, because once I do force myself to get started, it's actually difficult for me stop! Of course, not sleeping when I should, doesn't do a lot of good for my health, but there's this peace and calm one gets in the ungodly hours, that you really cannot get at any other time of the day--well, at least not where I live!

So, I will write tonight--but first, I think a post-dinner nap is in order...god, my back is killing me tonight--and no, not having David Tennant sypathy pains, so NO wise-cracks, okay? I know some of you would want to...but it's just my stinking arthritis and this changable weather---we're to get 4 to 10 inches of snow tomorrow (nothing like leaving a little leeway for error, ey?) and a sharp, sharp drop in temps---from the lower 30's fahrenheight which we presently have, to minus 9 Fahrenheight (I think that's about -22 C) in the wee hours of Sunday morning--Sunday's high may not even reach 10 F.

Off for a nap, and then I have a bicycle/rowboat/fire escape chase to write, later this evening. cheers.

I checked my mobile just now, to see if I missed any calls--the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles tried to reach me. That doesnt' sound good.

I've not had a car since August of 2006, what they hell could they want me for???

Even though I don't have anything to drive, my license is still good (as far as I know) and doesn't expire until 2011...this really doesn't sound good.

All I can think of is maybe there's some old fine floating around there--I was driving uninsured for a brief time, which is illegal, but it was only for a few weeks, before I lost the use of the car. Maybe someone didn't turn in some plates???

God, I really don't need this shite, I'm depressed enough as it is...and I can't find out what the hell they want 'till tomorrow morning, 'cos they're closed now. Damn it!

It has been confirmed today, that the first Dr Who special will be filmed somewhere abroad---apparently not the USA, as producer Russell T. Davies described the location as "exotic," which, unless he's talking about Las Vegas or the Deep South, would pretty much rule out most of America...

...especially here in the Adirondack Mountains, ha-ha. If they're coming here in January, they damn well better bring their polar suits!

Though speaking of the "deep south," I've been told by a real southern lady who moved to this area, that she's seen more genuine hillbilly's here in the Adirondacks, than she ever saw in Georgia! And, having once had some genuine in-bred (not an insult, but a true fact, I'm afraid) mountain people for neighbours, I very much believe her!

But, getting back to topic, I think it's a safe bet that wherever they will be filming, it will very probably be a warm location--perhaps Spain or Turkey?

I hadn't intended on it, but left work a half-hour early today. Couldn't take it any more--you see, we're to get a snow storm again tomorrow, and this one must be a hum-dinger, 'cos my arthritis is playing hell in spots it doesn't normally bother me--in this case, my left hip and far lower right side of my back...the back is being especially bothersome today, a squeezing, throbbing pain internally. It's nothing, really. More irritating than debilitating, still, there was this one woman, and all she did--I mean, literally all she did, was pop up and down in her seat all afternoon long, about once every 15 minutes--and every-single-flippin-time she had to barge into the back of my chair going by...BLINKING HELL.

I was really getting ticked off, I have to tell you. Besides hurting me, it distracted my concetration on my sales pitch--I'd actually have to look at the script to see where the hell I was! After about the umpteeth time she did it, I just said to hell with it, and told them I was going home--means I have to work an extra half-hour tomorrow, but who cares...wasn't making any sales anyway.

I don't know why they keep me on there, I totally SUCK as a sales person. I hate selling with a passion. Well, I guess I probably suck at everything. At least, that's how I feel. The only thing I'm good for is cleaning toilets and folding towels, mucking out stables and running amusement park rides....what the hell was I thinking, going back to college? I'm all chav and not very smart to boot. How the hell I ever got straight A's for a couple of semesters, I have no clue...easy classes, I suppose, or easy teachers, maybe.

I went for my phycological evaluation for ascertaining whether I can continue on disability benefits today. In a half hour, what can this guy know about me? I had to do some memory tests--and stuff with numbers, and the shrink picked up right off the bat that I had a math disability...never thought it was that obvious...most people just think I'm stupid...and, maybe I am. I don't know. I had to talk about things I really don't like to talk about, things I haven't talked about on this blog, or maybe only just hinted at...the dark sides of my life. I had to talk about how I'm turning into puree of bat guano of late, as well as what medical ailments I have, and how I am taking care of myself...not very well, if you must know.

Altogether, I'm not in a very cheery mood right now. Christmas blues again? Or, am I just being "me?" I dunno'.

I wish I could be with someone this Christmas, I don't want to spend yet another Christmas alone--this will be my forth such holiday in that condition. But, that's a pipe dream. My sister doesn't do Christmas--against her new religion, you see. Meh--it'll be okay, I've had a hell of a lot worse holidays than I've had this year, that's for sure, and it's really churlish of me to complain about something like that, I suppose...and, there's always my lovely cats, bless them.

So, tomorrow I have to turn in my Christmas week schedule...we get Christmas day off, but have to make up the missed time at work, so I have to work my day or days off, to make up for having Thursday off. Sucks, but then, nothing in life is fair, if it were, we wouldn't have wars and hunger and cancer, would we?

Got this from the BBC's website this morning:

David Tennant is expected to be fit enough to start filming scenes for a Doctor Who special next month, just weeks after surgery on his back.

"We'll have to be very careful," he said. "I don't think we'll be swinging him on a wire on his first day back."

The 2008 Christmas Special press launch was just held, and now, a week from the day, fans are getting the pleasing news that their beloved programme may be shooting on--or at least very near-- schedule, as planned.

There's also apparently no plans to cut scenes from the shooting script either, as apparently Mr. Tennant has so far made no indications that he would be unable to film the scenes he's in. However, Russell T. Davies has said that the production is insured, should Tennant's injury suddenly take a turn for the worse.

An old man and his wife were on their way home from a family Christmas party, when they drove by a New York State trooper in his patrol car. The policeman noted that the old man who was driving, didn't seem to have his seat belt on.

So, being that New York has a seat belt law, the state trooper had no choice to to put on his lights and do a traffic stop. He gets out of his car and walks over to the driver's side window, and tells the old man he was pulling him over for not wearing his saftey belt.

The old man refused to take the ticket the trooper handed him, insisting that he had indeed, been wearing a seat belt while driving. The poor policeman just wants to give the old guy the ticket and get on his way, so he looks over at the wife and says, Ma'am, you look like an honest lady. Was or was not your husband wearing his seat belt?"

The woman shrugged and said, "No, he wasn't. I tried to tell him to put it on, but you can't tell him anything when he's drink driving."

There's this story in one UK paper today, about the possibility of a Dr Who musical.

Meh--I suppose maybe the kiddies might like it.

Does that make me dull?

Oh well.

How 'bout "Nancy: The Musical":

I'm going to work today, it's really a drag today, but damn-it, I need my pay, so I'm going to work today, tra-la-la-la...it's cold as hell out there, I'll need thermal underwear, wear them under my trousers pair, so no one will stop and stare, tra-la-la-la...Yes, I love Doctor Who, and I think you should too, and if you refuse to do, I'll cover you with super glue, tra-la-la-la...

Okay, so it needs a little work...

So, I'm smack in the middle of writing a tiny little chase scene to start off chapter two of my new Who story...and I've got minor writer's block. So, I've been blogging about the weather--always a "safe"...if rather dull...blog post subject.

So, still stymied...I have an idea, I just need to work out in my head, how to make it "different," from all the million other Dr Who chase scenes...of course, i will never be able to top the real Dr Who writers, like RTD, Steven Moffatt and others of their fine ilk. Still, I want to do something that will make any readers I might get, raise an eyebrow...or even hopefully, smile. I like it when my readers get excited about a story--that just always blows me away, considering my lack of fiction writing skills, especially.

So, chillin' to some awesome mix of tunes from my teenage years, rock n roll oldies and some of my fav music from the present, on Pandora:

TITLE/ ARTIST

Saturday in the Park/ Chicago
Who'll Stop the Rain/ Creedence Clearwater Revival
More than a Feeling/ Boston (God, this song brings back so many memories)
Go your Own Way/ Fleetwood Mac
Sailing/ Christopher Cross
Told You So/ The Guggenheim Grotto
Should Have Been Loved/ The Proclaimers
Island in the Sun/ Weezer
Superman/ R.E.M.
Roll to Me/ Del Amitri
There She Goes/ The La's
Give a Little Bit/ The Goo Goo Dolls
Handle With Care/ Traveling Wilbury's
The Lover's Face/ The Proclaimers
Start Me Up/ The Rolling Stones
Green River/ Creedence Clearwater Revival
Louie Louie/ The Kingsmen
Rock and Roll Music/ The Beach Boys
Do Wha Diddy/ Manford Man
Sherry/ Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons
Bye-Bye Love/ The Everly Brothers
Five O'Clock World/ The Vogues
If I Faltered Slightly Twice/ Of Montreal
A Different Point of View/ The Pet Shop Boys
Tearing Up the Oxygen/ Maritime
The Book I Write/ Spoon
Miss Teen Wordpower/ The New Pornographers
Who's Crying Now/ Journey
Heart of the Matter/ Don Henley
Baby I Love Your Way/ Peter Frampton
Wonderful/ Runrig
Irish Son/ Brian McFadden
Not Only Numb/ Gin Blossoms
Under the Wire/ Carbon Leaf

LET'S PARTY!!!!

Nature is an unforgiving sod, sometimes. It's not sentimental, that's for certain. It's very selfish, the weather, refuses to cater to the whims and wants of mere motals. The weather is a god we all must bow to--in disappointment, anger, joy and praise.

But then, why should it bend to the whims of we mere mortals? We say we want rain, we need rain, then, we get a deluge, and suddenly we're complaining about too much rain. Humans say they want a white Christmas, but the snow arrives as needed, and we do nothing but gripe about driving in, and shoveling the stuff. We want sunshine, but then it's too hot or too dry...never happy, we lot. So, why should nature, whom herself is ever-changing, bow to our ever-changing whims?

PICTURED;

The amazing effect of a full moon on freshly fallen snow, atop Mount Snow in central Vermont. The "blue moon" effect is almost a mystical experience--most especially out in the relative stillness of the woods and fields at night, with the moon so bright, one can see for miles, and there are distinct shadows just like with the sunshine...only everything has a blue tint to it. A wonderous sight I've been blessed to know.

Well, twice tonight I've read where there's some rumour going about, that the Queen has passed away suddenly, earlier today.

But, the news is silent, and the only places that seem to be on about this, is MSN chat and some other chatroom--both frequented by teenagers, so that in itself would be a hint that this might well be a totally stupid hoax!

I don't know anymore than the rest of you, I'm afraid. I'm leaning towards hoax, but...

Why does the website that supposedly has 49 recent news articles on the Queen....suddenly only have ONE???

When Princess Diana passed away--all news about her abuptly stopped, and before they'd ever announced her death, I remember watching the tele that Saturday night, and saying to my mum, "Oh, I think she's died, how awful." And mum asked me why I thought that, and I said about they'd stopped talking to the reporters and yanked any further news...and this almost sounds like the same thing.

But, I'm sure it's not.

For one thing, if she'd been truly ill, I'm sure the newspapers would have been all over the story, and she appreared perfectly fine, during the speech a week or so ago from all I've read.

I'd like to think Her Gracious Majesty is fine, and will be enjoying another wonderful Christmas with her family this year. And, isn't this a lovely photograph? Here's to the Queen's health! Long may she reign!

Well, I'm just sitting here in the dark, by the lights of my naf little Christmas tree, watching a guy in a pick up truck with a plow blade attached to the front, plow the snow off the drive of the apartment house across the street, his little yellow flashng light on the roof of his truck, lighting up the living room.

Think I'll have an early night. Thought I'd put on some tunes and write another chapter of my latest Dr Who story...the one no one is reading...yeah, well, it's not that great, so that's to be expected.

I'm rather tired early this evening, having not had much sleep last night. I did crap on the phones today--didn't make any sales until the last 15 minutes of the day. But, I count it a good day, 'cos at least nothing bad happened today--I got no bad stuff in the post, didn't hurt myself, ha-ha.

I have to see the doctor tomorrow for my disability examination--my first in over 10 years..they're really cracking down on the disabled, since the recession messed up the state and federal budgets. Well, I'm still very much disabled, but I still worry, even with my working part time, losing my disability, would probably--well, very definately--mean that I would lose the roof over my head--and possibly go hungry again, as well. So, I'm trying not to worry...but with my life literally at stake, it's almost impossible not to, know what I mean?

Someone sent me this news tidbit about Mr. David Tennant, and since I wrote earlier that I had my doubts about his fitness to return to work any time soon--(my experiences with back injuries were obviously much different than his--but then I didn't have health insurance)--anyway, apparently I may have been completely wrong...which in this case, is something I don't mind admitting.

I guess though, that Mr. Tenant was spotted by fans and papparzzi out doing some shopping in London today. So, apparently I was either wrong about the seriousness of the man's injury, or he's got a hell of a lot better doctor's than I've ever had...or, he's being an idiot...well, as I wrote previously, the man's personal life is really none of my business, but, I am very glad to see the man up and about so soon, and am glad the injury wasn't so serious as to require him to stay in bed for weeks. So, perhaps he'll be filming Who on schedule, after all?

This is pretty interesting...of course there was life on Mars...the Osirans imprisoned Sutekh the Destroyer on Mars, before the Doctor done him in.

Similar rules, but this time, you only bold out those things which you have actually done before.

1. Operated some kind of big machinery (I've run construction equipment, a farm tractor and amusement park rides)
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played on a sports team other than in school
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Worked as a volunteer
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Gone sailing
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang solo
11. Been thrown from a horse
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art without lessons
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen a Rembrant painting in a museum
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort or snow castle
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden on a ski lift
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Ridden a camel and-or elephant
32. Been on a cruise
33. Studied archaeology or volunteered at a dig
34. Visited the birthplace of one of your ancestors
35. Met a presidential candidate or famous minister
36. Taught yourself a new language (Well, I learned, "yes," "no" and "thank you.")
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person (no, but I've seen the leaning tower of Leeuwarden!)
39. Gone fishing and caught a fish
40. Seen David Tennant in person
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt (every single day, summer of '80--I actually lived and worked within a 5 min. walk from it!)
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Flown in a single engine plane (I got a plane ride as my 18th birthday present.)
47. Had your portrait drawn or painted
48. Gone down inside a cave or cavern
49. Seen a Dutch style windmill up close
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in movie theater
55. Seen one of Shakespeare's plays performed in a theater (only MacBeth)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone snowmobiling
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Gone swimming in a hot spring
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite toy or other item from your childhood
70. Visited Buckingham Palace
71. Drank champagne
72. Ridden in a limo
73. Stood in Times Square in Manhattan
74. Been to the Great Pyramids of Egypt
75. Helped to deliver a baby animal
76. Seen Hadrian's Wall
77. Had a blood transfusion
78. Got a speeding ticket
79. Been to Pompeii
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Visited the Australian Outback
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the Scottish Higlands
87. Taught yourself to cook something
88. Seen a whirling dervish
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Been to Madrid
96. Acted as a tour guide
97. Won an award for something you made yourself
98. Played in a darts or billiards tornament
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Seen an explosion

well, I'm sitting here, and heard "clunk-thump"---look up, and Boots is sitting under the Christmas tree, playing with the ornaments and candy canes....arggh. I asked him, "what are you doing now?!?" and he just sat there, a christmas ball hanging down, resting on top of his head, with this "What???" expression on his ginger and white feline face.

He's got this big black smudge on the right side of his cheek, as well...don't know what that's all about. He's not usually like this, and I don't know what to make of it. He's just sitting there at this moment, with this smouldering look in his eyes, like he wants to pounce on something...probably little Flamey, who'll be quite put out with him, if he does.

Cats, they never listen!

Nothing's been said yet--but, I suspect that if he was rushed into surgery, that Mr. Tennant's back injury was quite severe, and being extremely well-versed on such things, I it's a sure bet he proably won't be returning (if his common sense overrules his desire) to Hamlet.

And, chances are, won't be able to film the first Dr Who special at the end of January, as originally planned--unless he just stands around and says his lines--and they do a lot of magic with green green stuff, and they use a stunt double for all the running and physical moves...which is possible I suppose, but highly doubtful. Of course, they managed to finish The Sontaran Experiment with a double, and with Baker leaning against some rocks, after he fell and injured himself...so, I guess we'll see...but I'm sure Russell T. Davies and Julie Gardner (who's leaving in Jan. 09) are feeling a bit nervious, right now--and worried about Tennant too, very probably.

This spammer has been plauging my blog for over a month....this stinking Chinese piece of shite ALWAYS uses the word "clean" followed by two numbers as his or her username. It started out "clean02"---bcuk deletes his or her blog, and this piece of poo merely re-registers as "clean03," clean04, etc.

We're now up to "clean10!"

I hate this freak, and btnt.com is NEVER going to get my business.

I've repeatedly told bcuk about this chinese crack-head, but they just don't care. Here's they're lame response, which I got AFTER stupid chinese person spammed me AGAIN...TWICE, this morning:

thank you for your request.
>
> We are reluctant to block usernames, as it is very simple for spammers to
> simply select a different one.
>
> We are keeping an eye on the IP though.

HA! YOU NEED GLASSES THEN, MATEY'S!!!

I got spammed this morning, it's snowing to beat the band now, the walking doesn't look great...judging by the way people are strugging on the sidewalks. Boots is picking on Flamey now--she's spitting and hissing at him...and now I've got a headache and an upset stomach...sonuva..gun.

"Thank you for calling the weather phone, as of now, there are no weather conditions affecting the opening of our offices."

So, off to work then, at half-past eight. Bleh.

Well, between Boot's yowling waking me up all night (no idea what was up with him...he was doing his impersonation of an alley cat yowling on a fence, methinks--he fails the x-factor audition. And, I have a wonky stomach for reasons unknown...and then the damn city snowplow woke me a few times, with that heavy metal plow scraping the roadway as it went by...so, I'm feeling a bit hungover this morning, without the benefit of alcohol.

Yeah, it's snowing a bit. We've got 3 or 4 inches on the ground now, with a couple more inches on the way. But, business as usual, no traffic issues, people seem to be driving at mostly normal speed--at least here on the city's main street. The city schools are opening on time--so far, and only a few rural schools are opening with a one to two hour delay, so I reckon there's no need for me to ring up the office's weather phone, to see if we're open today.

The winter weather advisory is only till 1pm this afternoon, so this looks like it will peter off soon--tho' a glance at the weather radar shows the snow's still whirling around here. They say to our north a few miles, they may get as much as 8 inches of snow, and that'll make the rural towns pretty happy---skiing and snowmobiling (New York state has an extensive state owned snowmobile trail system in its Adirondack mountains) are big tourist draws to our north, and towns count on their business to get them through the slow winter months. Here in Glens Falls, you can pop into the Exit 18 Mcdonald's, Pizza Hut or the local Mexican cafe for lunch or dinner, then hit the slopes a few minutes later at West Mountain.

But, I don't ski, alas...don't even own a pair of snowshoes any longer.

Of course, now that I'm (sort of) awake, now Boots is quiet. Typical. I love Boots to bits, mind you. I've had cats in my life for 46 years, and Boots is one of the most gentle, sweetest tempered cats I've ever known...but last night, I have to admit that I wasn't feeling very well disposed towards him--arrrgh!

Well, I have to force myself to eat breakfast here at half past 7am. Bleh. God, the phones at work were driving me bonkers last night--we're having issues with our phone lines at work, and getting clicks and clangs and static while we're trying to talk, and the phone line kept disconnecting me...only, I couldn't always tell when the phone was disconnecting me, or when someone was being rude and hanging up in mid-conversation (Americans right across the board, from coast-to-coast, all ages and sexes and cultures, mostly being total boors when it comes to even the most basic manners, these days).

Hope it's not too hard a day...I'm going to be famished when I get home, cos' I don't think I could stomach any food this morning--was going to have some porage, but don't think I can handle even that.

, 12 QUESTIONS FOR DECEMBER:

1. Have you had snow yet, where you live?

Yup.

2. How many Christmas cards have you gotten, so far this year?

Five.

3. What do you plan on having for Christmas dinner, this year?

I was going to make boiled dinner--corned beef and cabbage, but decided to opt for something more traditional, and have the small pork loin rib roast with mashed swede, brussel sprouts and pork flavored instant bread stuffing...maybe some apple sauce, as well, we'll see.

4. Have you been listening to any Christmas music lately?

Only in shops, mostly, over the store's tannoy. Listened to some funny Christmas songs on Youtube, a couple of times. I'm not as much into Christmas as I was, when my parents and other family was still around.

5. Have you ever cut your own Christmas tree?

Yup.

6. Do you plan on going caroling this year?

Nope.

7. Have you ever kissed under the mistletoe or a kissing ball?

nope.

8. What do you plan on doing this coming weekend?

Nothing much--work, do the grocery shopping, the laundry, tidy the apartment.

9. What are you doing right now?

Blogging, drinking a diet soda, petting my cat Charlie, who is being quite demanding for attention tonight.

10. Some things that pleased you in the past week?

I got two Christamas cards and two small gifts, which I hadn't at all expected.

Out of the blue, I also got two compliments, back-to-back, from two different people, on two old Dr Who stories I wrote in 2006: One titled "Grave Danger"--about the 10th Doctor and Martha being stalked by a couple of aliens in a late 19th century Welsh cemetery, and "Keeping up the Doctor,"--a TV crossover story where the 9th Doctor meets Mrs. Bucket (oh, sorry, that's "bouquet".) I hardly ever get visitors on that particular webpage--sometimes no visitors at all--so to get two really fantastic complements for two stories on my Dr Who fan-fic blog...really chuffed, I was. One person asked it I'd ever thought of becoming an actual published Dr Who author, ha-ha. (as if that would ever happen...Frank Capra where are you when i need you?)

I got to briefly chat on Skype with 3 of my friends twice this weekend, and I tried on another pair of size 20 ladies jeans--and they fit, as well! (didn't buy them, tho'--see, I've been a 2x large for the last two years--before that, I was a 3x large..so, size 20 or even 1x clothing and jeans...that's something I've not fit into in something like 15 or 20 years, at least. Whoo-hoo!!!

11. Silly things that you did, or that happened to you, in the past week?

Slipped taking out the rubbish to the skip, hit my head and got a mild concussion.

Freaked out over losing my pay check.

Got stuck in the lift at work tonight, and almot panicked...why, don't know, I'm not particularly claustrophoic, they would have found me eventually.

Burnt my thumb taking supper out of the cooker.

Sent a Christmas card (she winces) to David Tennant. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be a fan-girl, but I just really do feel bad for the poor bloke...I do feel a bit silly sending the card--like he's even going to read it? One card out of tens of thousands? No, he won't read it. Sounds awful, but in my heart of hearts, I know I've probably just wasted 94 cents...well, I only had one stamp to spare, and it was either David Tennant or the Queen this year, and Her Majesty neglected so send me a birthday card, so Her Royal Highness is off my Christmas card list temorarily--tho' I'm sure it was just an oversight.

12. Assuming there really is a Santa, list ten material things just for you, on your hypthetical Christmas list.

Well, I guess I will make a realistic list like I might have given my mum, not list stupid stuff that can never be, like a trip to the UK or a car or what-have-you.

1. Pair of flannel pyjamas

2. an inexpensive little camera of some sort

3. Something Dr Who

4. Something horsey

5. some music or a DVD

6. a book (or two)

7. snow boots

8. perfume and/or make up

9. socks and underwear

10. a new sweater (jumper) or a dressy winter coat.

NOTE: The above is purely hypothetical, is is NOT a real list--I alredy got all my prezzies this year, thanks.

Just got home from work and finished my supper...my fingers seem to be taking a beating this week. The other night Charlie accidently sunk a claw into my finger instead of his cat toy. Tonight, my pot-holder slipped as I was pulling the french fries out of the cooker, and I got a lovely little 2nd degree burn on my thumb--yes, it smarts a bit, but it's fine... In between stable hand work, I also used to cook for my living as a young adult, so I got used to burns decades ago, from grill burns to steam burns...worst one was when a spazzy cleaner banged his mop handle into a co-worker's arm, just as she was removing a basket of french fries from the fryer--and the hot oil covered basket went smack into my upper forearm, giving me a severe 2nd degree burn...gosh, that really kind of hurt--I was just turned 20, and I remember the stinking kitchen manager played it down and at first refused to let me off work go to the ER--the bastard, until one of my co-workers who was a volunteer EMT, spoke up for me, bless him...I had the scar for about ten years, but it's faded away now.

But, gosh, I've been accident prone this past week, between the concussion, the punctured finger and now this wee burn. Better be careful walking to work tomorrow morning.

I was just looking at the weather radar--it's really weird, but the upper Hudson Valley, from Albany, 50 miles north to Glens Falls, seems to be protected by the weather gods---or, probably more accurately, by some geographical quirk of the region. There is quite literally a circle of rain around the city--I'm serious! There's the upper Hudson Valley--and all around it, in a complete...almost dare I say, unnatural looking circle, is a swath of rain! It's moving up from the south, and encricling the city as it moves, without a drop of rain touching us! It really does look weird.

*WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY in effect through 4PM Wednesday for the entire Capital Region*

Yet another round of wintry weather is tracking into the Capital Region (upper Hudson Valley). The storm will lift north tonight, continuing to impact our area through tomorrow afternoon. Snow will develop from south to north towards midnight. It will continue light to moderate overnight, with 2" to 3" of snow and sleet accumulation by the morning commute Wednesday. Areas north of Albany could see more on the ground by morning..

Ah well, no big deal then, just another day in paradise.

Sadly, last week's storm did kill a few people--mostly in New Hampshire, but a local man died from carbon monoxide poisoning from his portable heater.

Some people are still without power--and, for those in rural areas, that also means no water, as well, as rural wells are powered by electricity. I used to have a well--what a pain in the arse that was...when it didn't dry up in a drought, or get frozen up when the the temps dropped to minus 25 fahrenheight, when the power went out, we didn't have water...and we had an electric cooker at the time, so we also didn't have heat or a way to cook...not a fun experience...up to a point, one can learn to live without lights, heat or cooker--but not being about to flush or bathe? That sucked.

Another death in the area, really hit home with me. A woman in her early 60's froze to death over the weekend. She'd been to a party Friday night, and apparently had gotten intoxicated. It's believed she passed out coming from the garage to her house, and--temps being in the single digits fahrenheight that night, and alcohol taking away one's body heat, she was probably dead within two hours. Thing is, no one reported her missing until Monday. She lived alone and no one missed her. There but for the grace of God (or whomever), could go I. You think I don't think about that, when I'm feeling shaky, like I was Sunday night? Early Sunday evening I was feeling a bit rough, and desperately wanted to go to bed, but stayed on Skype chatting with some good friends, because I felt that if I was going to pass out, at least I might have a chance of letting someone know. Fortunately I felt better after a while. Suspect my blood count has been a bit low, for reasons I wont' disclose here.

Well, I'm very tired. I got yet another meme e-mailed to me, but I don't know if I'll bother with it...I've already done more meme's and quizes in the past few days, than I've done in the past few weeks. Too much of a boring thing will drive people away, I reckon. Maybe tomorrow.

Speaking of tomorrow (how's that for segeway?), I hope you all have a lovely day tomorrow. Take care.

Borrowed this from Notbob--a little something to occupy me before I leave for work tonight.

The Rules:
1. You can only say YES or NO!
2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages you and asks!

Taken a picture naked? : - no.

Made out with a member of the same sex? no.
Danced in front of your mirror? yes
Told a lie? Yes

Gotten in a car with people you just met? yes

Been in a fist fight? no
Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back? ye
Left your house without telling your parents? yes
Ditched school to do something more fun? no
Slept in a bed with a member of the same sex? no
Seen someone die? yes

Kissed a picture? yes

Slept in until 3? yes

Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by? yes

Played dress up? yes
Fallen asleep at work/school? no

Felt an earthquake? yes
Touched a snake? yes
Ran a red light? yes
Had detention? yes

Been in a car accident? yes
Pole danced? no
Been lost? yes
Sang karaoke? no
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? yes
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? yes

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? yes
Kissed in the rain? no
Sang in the shower? yes
Got your tongue stuck to a pole? no
Ever gone to school partially naked? no
Sat on a roof top? yes
Played chicken? no
Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? no
Been told you're hot by a complete stranger? no
Broken a bone? yes

Mooned/flashed someone? no

Forgotten someone's name? yes
Slept naked? yes
Blacked out from drinking? no
Played a prank on someone? yes

Felt like killing someone? no

Made a parent cry? yes
Cried over someone? yes

Had sex more than 5 times in one day? no
Had/Have a dog? yes

Been in a band? no
Drank 25 sodas in a day? no
Shot a gun? yes

Your turn!

I just had someone send me two links to a couple of these naf and slightly bizzare quizes floating around the internet.

The first was--what celebrity personality are you most like? Answer I got: John Barrowman! Whoa, alriighty then...isn't John Barrowman very gay? And aren't I a genuine old maid?

Well, onwards and downwards, the next quiz was: (brace yerself Bessie):

"Would David Tennant date you?"

The answer I got was:

"You'd be alright with him, but not too good though."

Meh--he's too famous and trendy and hyperactive for me, anyway.

I'm well-used to being alone, and most of the time it's fine and I don't pay much thought to it. Except when I'm ill, or on holidays, or if I'm going out for the day (not that that happens very often)--then perhaps I might actually feel a twnge of loneliness...and yes, also sometimes it rears its head, if I am feeling emotionally or mentally vulnerable--then of course it can be a little more difficult for me.

I have to admit, I am very hesitant about making friends. I fully get, 110%, that being around someone who is bi-polar isn't easy. Even my family--my own mum--had a hard time understanding me sometimes.

Unfortunately, for some reason human beings tend to think of emotions as being completely controllable. Yet, nothing can be further from the truth! Now, I don't know what academics and doctors and therapists say, but to me, emotions come from both exterior stimuli, and from those chemical reactions and electrical impulses inside your brain.

Yes, most of us can control our emotions--up to a point, and certainly some people more than others...yet, though we have computer like brains, we are not in fact, machines. It's horrendously frustrating for me, when I'm in a deep depression, and someone comes along and tells me to, or simply expects me to, "snap out of it." My brain doesn't have an on-off switch! Depression doesn't just stop....compusion doesn't just stop...and up mood doesn't just stop--because you command it to. It starts when it starts, and it ends when it ends.

Oh, emotions can be contolled by us to an extent--mainly through viligant self-awareness and through taking care of yourself properly (if one is able to), by maintaining an ordered and healthy lifestyle. And, of course, certain prescription drugs can also help people maintain an even emotional keel on the rough seas of life. But, telling someone, or even actually expecting someone, to just "snap out of it?" That's just...ludicris. It's totally unrealistic and lacking in genuine empathy.

I do put up a wall around myself. I wish I didn't have to, but I long ago deemed it a necessary evil, a survival technique. Trust me, a person can only take just so much hurt. I know it can be hard to be around someone like me, and that there's sides of myself which I NEVER allow anyone to view, and never speak of. I keep people at arm's length for my own protection mostly--but also for theirs...I really cringe at the thought of being responsible for some else's unhappiness.

Mark the true statements in BOLD. UNDERLINE the false statements.

Physical appearance
I am 5 feet four inches or shorter.
I think I'm ugly.
I have at least five scars on my body.
I tan easily.
I wish my hair was a different color.
I have friends who have never seen my natural hair color.
I have a tattoo.
I am self-conscious about my appearance.
I have/had had braces.
I wear glasses.
I'd get plastic surgery.
I've been told I'm attractive by a complete stranger.
I have had more than two piercings.
I have no piercings.
I have freckles.
I want to look like my favorite celebrity

Family/home life
I've sworn at my parents at some point in my life.
I've run away from home.
I've been kicked out of the house.
My biological parents are together.
I have a sibling less than one year old.
I want children someday.
I have children.
I've lost a child.
I've lost a parent.
I don't get along well with my siblings.
I'm still living with my parents
I'm married
I live alone
I have pets in my home
I live near my job and/or school
I like to decorate my home
I entertain friends and/or family often in my home
I don't like where I live
I love my home
I miss my childhood home
I plan on moving in the next year

Embarrassment
I've slipped out an 'lol' in a spoken conversation.
Disney movies still make me cry.
I've snorted while laughing.
I've laughed so hard I've cried.
I've laughed so hard I made myself sick to my stomach.
I've glued my hand to something.
I've laughed 'til some kind of beverage came out of my nose.
I've had my pants rip in public.
I've had a spectactular fall that made people laugh at me
I've farted in public
I've vomited in public
I've belched loudly while speaking on the phone
I've worn a lampshade on my head
I've danced in a conga line.
I've sung out loud in public even though I can't sing
I've had people stare at me while I've sung out loud to songs on my car radio
I've been naked in public.
I've had a fight in public
I've spoken to someone with a booger hanging out of my nose
I've picked my nose in public
I've called someone by their wrong name
I've made a joke that no one laughed at.
I've walked around with my jeans/trousers zipper undone.