"You Got What You Wanted. Are You Happy Now?"

Well, you're wrong on both accounts, not-so-gentle stranger screaming at me through my radio. This isn't what I wanted. I wanted Terri's wishes to be respected. I did not want her to die. Do you see the difference? It wasn't my choice, it was hers.

You tell me that in this country there is no reason for a person to die of starvation. I couldn't agree with you more, but I'm talking about anyone, not "someone"... I'm talking about children living in cars because their parents' jobs were outsourced, queers living on the streets because their parents decided to punish them for the very genetic makeup they passed along to them in the first place... I'm talking global, not political.

And yes, I think it's a damned shame that we live in a country that allows a woman to starve to death, but since euthanasia isn't legal, we didn't have any other way of carrying out her wishes. Did you think that one over, or were you too busy trying to carry water in to a woman who can't swallow it anyhow?

So I didn't get what I wanted. And I'm not happy. I grieve for those who loved her, mourn for those who never knew her and saw only a chance to further their cause.

Terri, God rest your soul.

Time Machine

I'm 18 and I want to go to Anderson University and study voice under the same instructors that had a hand in raising up Sandy Patti.

But I get a free ride to Indiana University instead, and I'm going to flunk out after first semester. It's not that I can't do the work, it's just that I'm too immature to appreciate a good education. Rather, I'm focusing on appreciating my status as someone's girlfriend.

I'm 19 and I check the mailbox every day before my mom gets home from work. I don't want her to find the note from the dean saying I've flunked out in my second semester.

I'm 19 through 34 and I'm working a series of shitty paying jobs.

I'm 34 and I'm a college freshman.

I'm 36 and I'm graduating from a two-year in seven months.

I wish I could bitch-slap me at 18. I had absolutely no responsibilities back then. I could work, or not. I had no kids, no bills, no restraints on my time. I had only one broken dream, and a once in a lifetime opportunity to attend a fine university for absolutely no money. I'm 36 and I still live with a broken dream... I would have lived with it either way. I could be a non-vocalist with a Masters... instead I'm a 36yr old non-vocalist, college sophomore with kids, a job, a house, a cat, a dog... and a blog.

In other words - some times some things must be put aside in order to atone for our past sins. I had to put my blog aside ONCE AGAIN so I could learn all there is for a 36yr old sophomore to know about the Big Bang, while simultaneously rescuing my daughter's goldfish from my son's cat, spending quality time with my husband, and busting my arse trying to keep an entire office afloat.

Thanks for hanging in here with me.

Oh.My.Holy

No. No. No. Surely this is the straw that will break my delicate back.

Driving down the road this morning I am rejoicing. The Lovebug has been gone for four days and he returns this evening. The sun, while not quite shining, is surely shining on my face. The windows are down, the birds are singing, and as I scan through my radio stations, the brilliant trumpet line of "Rosanna" makes its way to my ear. What a perfect pick-me-up to start the day. I quickly stop the scan button.

"All I wanna do in the middle of the evening is hold you tight...Rosanna, Hosanna..."

What the fuck? Did they just say, "Hosanna?" I turn the radio up louder and take a gulp of coffee. I must not be awake yet. I must have been semi-hallucinating.

"All I wanna do is tell the whole world about your saving grace, Hosanna, Hosanna..."

Look, you Talibornagains, you wanna erect a nativity on the courthouse lawn, go ahead. You want to shield the world from Janet Jackson's boobies, fine. You wanna keep George W. Bush in office, so be it, but don't start fucking with my 80's music or we're going to have a serious problem!

On the Other Side of Hope

"It's for the best."

"Everything happens for a reason."

" There is a time and place for everything, and this obviously wasn't the time for that place."

"There will be other opportunities for employment there."

"Hey, it was my first interview and I made it into the top two. That has to bode well for future opportunities."

These are all the things I tell myself. These are the words of positive energy that we mutter in order to keep ourselves from jumping off the roof.

The other side of hope is not despair, it's denial. The other side of hope is jaded. I get up, I get dressed, I drive to my hamster cage, make my coffee, then sit at my desk in my comfortable green chair with spreading room for my ass. The other side of hope is not a comfortable place, but rather a slightly duller, slightly annoying, routine coma of activity.

I am not depressed. I am bored. I am far too intelligent for this mundane atmosphere. I am not challenged... I work with the challenged. I do not ride the short bus, I drive the short bus... and I swear to f-ing God I will drive this bus off a short cliff if ONE SINGLE PERSON ASKS ME ONE SINGLE STUPID QUESTION TODAY. I am in a mood because I drank too much wine last night and haven't had enough coffee this morning.

Go ahead. Ask me a stupid question. I dare you (not you, dear bloggers.)

What About the Right to Die?

I'm a glutton for punishment. I think it comes from growing up in a dysfunctional family that rewarded me with attention for acting out. Be that as it may, occassionally I find myself subjecting my delicate mind to the ramblings of Christian talk shows. On my way home from work I tuned in to a Terry Shiavo discussion. Now understand, I tell myself that I am simply listening to opposing opinions and solidifying my argument, but the truth of the matter is, I'm a glutton for punishment. I honestly do wonder how a faith that believes the soul remains with the body until the body perishes could actually want Terri's soul to remain in her debilitated state, so I am looking for something which sheds light on my quandery. Over and over I keep hearing the statement, "right to life"; Terri has a right to life. I don't disagree, but Terri also has the right to die, doesn't she? She expressed her wishes to her husband, and the courts have all agreed to uphold that wish. Is life really sacred, and if so, at what point does the health of the soul become less sacred than the viability of the flesh?

Call me a cynic, but I wonder if the "right to life" movement on behalf of Terri would be as strong if she were a man? After all, the right to lifers don't want women to make any decision where their bodies are concerned, so perhaps they aren't really trying to protect her, but rather trying to maintain that women are subject to the whims of a poorly interpreted faith?

They ended the broadcast by quoting a scripture that I believe was, "Let us speak up for those with no voice." To that I say, "Amen." Isn't that what we're trying to do by allowing her wishes to be carried out?

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!

"Thanks for calling me back, Robin. I wanted to let you know that we've hired someone else for the position...blah blah blah...great applicant...blah blah blah...other applicant has court experience...blah blah blah...please keep us in mind as future positions open in the department...blah blah blah..."

Now FUNKY has the blahs. Where's the corkscrew?

Pins and Needles

I just got a call from my friend PC - she's the one I used to share the hamster cage with, and the one who got me the interview. The guy I interviewed with yesterday called her this morning for a reference. Here's the interesting thing: they never actually asked for references...not on the application anyhow. I made sure to drop my friend's name a few times in the conversation and it stuck enough for him to call her up. He told her I'm one of the top two, and the other one has less technical skill. So.... now I'm on pins and needles. I gotta tell ya, some of the responses I got yesterday cracked me up. You guys are priceless!!!!

So, let's talk about Terri...yeah, lets jump on the Shiavo bandwagon. I can. I live about 45 minutes from her. I'm not going to rehash much...I just want to make a quick point or two:

I'm wondering why the people who are so concerned for her soul, don't just let it go? The priests say that if Terri starves to death, it's a mortal sin. Huh? So if you really believe there is a better life waiting on the other side of mortal death, why not let her go? Run to the light, Terri!

If Bush is so concerned with a human life that he flies out of Crawford to sign a bill... why isn't he flying to Iraq and saving the lives of civilians and soldiers dying there every single day? One of my co-workers got his papers yesterday and he's been ordered up. The last thing my boss said to him was, "Keep your head down, buddy." I really hope it ISN'T the last thing my boss EVER says to him. Hey Bush... what happens when the cameras aren't following Air Force One and why don't you care about the human lives that haven't been the center of media attention for the last umpteen years?

Finally... this judge here in FL...this Clinton appointee... if he decides to rule on the side of the court, are you gonna blame Clinton for Terri's death? You want laws, you righteous Right, but you don't want them followed. I don't get you. I thought hypocrasy was the worst of sins?

Okay - that's my update and my rant. Back to your regularly scheduled work day.

The Bride is at the Alter

That's what my Lovebug just told me. The interview is over now, the bride is at the alter, there's nothing left to do but wait.

I think it went okay... the interview that is. There's just one nagging thing... they asked when I could start, should I be chosen for the job. I am of the opinion that you NEVER tell a prospective employer that you will run out on your current one. I gave the PC "two week notice" answer and he said that was fair... "of course we do have a vacancy and the work is piling up, but that's fair." WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? WHAT DID HE MEAN? WHY DID HE SAY THAT??? Shit. I blew it, didn't I? The bride is at the alter, but the groom will be getting his wedding night blowjob from the bridesmaid. Fuck.

Copy Cat!!

Me... I'm the copycat...

I work in hell... I've complained before, and I'll no doubt complain for the rest of my life about this well-paying job that keeps me in a hamster cage all day spinning my little wheel for some very unpleasant individuals. I had a chance to get out once - I nailed a great interview for a wonderful office with seemingly lovely co-workers, but I turned it down. The pay scale was a bit low and there wasn't enough incentive to leave my cage-mate, PC. She is a great gal... she keeps me grounded and at the same time throws me from a cliff when necessary. PC landed a sweet job working for the county back in November. We sniffed our farewells and I continued in my cage alone while she went to hamster nirvana.

A few weeks back PC gave me an application for a job opening in the same building. It's a county job, and the pay scale is a good six grand more than I make now, and the benefits are better with less contribution on my part. So I faxed the application yesterday and they called today. My interview is Monday morning at 9:30am.

So while you're all sending Scotty your positive energy, I humbly BEG you to send some my way as well. This is my chance to get out of the hamster cage and move on with my life.

Gratis in advance, y'all...

Oh, and while I'm at it, WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH BLOGGER???? I can't comment for shit! I've been to all your blogs, and unless you have Haloscan, you don't know I came by because FUCKING BLOGGER WON'T LET ME RING THE DAMNED DOORBELL!!! I'll try again tomorrow....sigh...

Holy Silicate!

Lovebug has already mocked me, so don't you DARE start...

I got my midterm grade back...

106%

Yeah, that's a big fat A

I rock.

The Other Side of Crazy

Lake Logan


Isn't it just so peaceful here? This is a place I refer to as "the other side of crazy." It's nice to be there today.

First, to answer the question posed by more than a few, no I am not going to stop posting just because Cadybug found my blog. I thought my mom was some pristine, prim, perfect little housewife (mortally bored, but dutiful.) That certainly didn't do anything for or against my moral rearing... so if Cadybug and Cuddlebug find out that mom is less than stellar in the morality department, that mom drinks a lot of wine and never acts her age outside of our little home... so be it.

Basically, I haven't been posting because I've been occupied to the full extent of my abilities. Between the midterm, my crazy-assed workplace, and the show last weekend, it was all I could do to stay up past 8pm every night. But it's all over now... still no grade on the midterm, work is still 'teh' shit, and the show is over... maybe now I can resume this blog thing. I feel like I've been a miserable blogger lately... but life moves at its own pace, and cares not for my blogging desires.

And finally (this should more or less get you caught up to speed) the show is over. It was not exactly a success as far as I'm concerned. Others in my life have told me it was a success, but my wallet says different. I did sell some prints (in case you're interested, I sold a "Times Square" to an ex-cop from NYC and a few of my Bonaventure Cemetary Angel series), but I did not even come close to breaking even. It would have been successful only if I'd actually made back what I put in... I know, that's why they call us starving artists... but until I actually resemble someone who is starving (as opposed to someone who ate three starving people) then that is no consolation.

I'm tired... I'm bitter...I'm back.

Resurrection Tuesday

It feels GOOD to be back! Here's the recap of my hair-pulling week:

The Midterm:
I studied like I've never studied before. I do not know WHY I have an aversion to Earth Science, but apparantly I do. I could not retain one iota of material. I tried everything you all suggested... plenty of sleep, songs to help me remember, acronyms... you name it, I tried it. So I finally have to go take the test, and I spend a few more minutes trying to cram as much into my short-term memory as possible. I'm handed test "C" and the clock starts. Two essay questions greet me on page one: "Three types of volcanoes and the magma, potential explosiveness, and depth of magma associated with each. Give examples." Volcanoes? YES! I love the volcano thing!! I whip right through that puppy and go on to the next. "How are minerals identified? Be specific. Give examples." Oh for joy... this was a homework question that I got partial credit for. The professor had kindly finished it for me. I knew, word for word, exactly what he wanted me to say. So now on to the multiple choice. Wait. This can't be right... I know this one...and this one... and this one...oh my GOD I know all these. Where are the questions about rock material? Where are the questions about the different deformities associated with plate tectonic mountain building? Fifteen minutes later I'm signing out. I meet my classmate afterward and compare notes. She had test form "E" and SHE had all the rock material and mountain building stuff. I SOOOOO lucked out. No grades have been posted yet, but I'll let you know when I do.

Hell No, I Won't Show:
So with the midterm out of the way, I started working on my prints for the show. I diligently cropped, retouched, and generally messed with somewhere upwards of 200prints until I had selected about 40 that I wanted to show. With that out of the way, I began to actually print my prints. What the fuck is this? Where are these lines coming from? What the hell are these dots all over my prints? Holy FUCKING HELL my printer is having a nervous breakdown! I'm dancing around the edge of the panic zone and I have NO clue what I'm going to do until my friend Garrison Steele (see sidebar) e-mails me. I cry buckets of tears and he says, quite simply, that I should try a printing service. Yes, I know... but when you're occupied dancing around the edge of the panic zone, you really don't see solutions... just problems. I sent him a big fat cyber kiss (with tongue... I'm seriously seriously grateful) and ran my CDs over to Staples. The girls took my plight to heart, and I'll have all of my prints back before 9pm tonight.

Finally:
My daughter Cadybug discovered my blog. This is cool because now she can see the human side of the mom... but also scary because now she can see the human side of the mom. In similar news, I had a very very outrageous post-midterm celebration that I would LOVE to share with you... but... did I mention my daughter discovered my blog?

I'll be 'round to see you all very soon. Thanks for stopping by, checking in, and sending me good thoughts and great suggestions. Gotta LUV this blogosphere!

Ervolina 2003 

Devil Bird of Puerto Rico 

Six more days until the show... this is all I'll be doing between now and then! 

I Want to Bury My Head Too

Swan in Waiting

I know, I know... I'm supposed to be studying...and I HAVE been. I swear. I've been studying non-stop. My head is about to explode, but for some damned reason, I cannot seem to remember that the Gobi desert owes its existance to its distance from the ocean, while the African deserts exist because of their subtropic-high climate conditions. I can't seem to remember that granitic rock is associated with non-volcanic mountain building, and I don't give a rats ass about the feldspars in magma and lava... and I don't think five more minutes this evening is going to make a difference one way or another. The only rock building material I care about is the stuff that makes dirt... the dirt I should be out taking pictures of. And I miss you guys... I miss reading your blogs!

My head hurts... my kids won't shut the fuck up (and I love them, but goddammit how many times do I have to ask?) and I give up.

I think my 4.0 just met its match.

On a funny note, I was driving home this evening and saw a sign that said,

Home for sale
Buy Owner

And I was so tempted to pull over and write "You're grammar sucks." (yes, I know I used the wrong "your"...that would have been the point.)

Well, it made me giggle anyhow.

I'll be better tomorrow... I promise. After all, once I flunk my midterm, I can't go flunk it again, right?

Okay - I have a midterm in two days, and I'm extremely unprepared. So if you don't hear from me for a few days, it's not because my old age caught up with me...

Until then, please visit my friends' blogs and leave them your special comment luvin'. Scotty over at The Once Exciting Now Boring Life of Me is having a birthday veeeeeeeery soon. Make sure you wish him a happy happy!

I'll meet you on the other shore... the shore that will be reached after I take my midterm.