We all have what the VA calls "issues:" drama that warps our lives and changes us. Well, after yesterday's -14F temperature (-26C), I've been thinking of our ancestors from 25,000 years ago, give or take, who lived during the ICE AGE. They had to put up with this weather for GENERATIONS!!!! At least we know we're only a few weeks away from wearing shorts again. I am so very, very, very thankful that I have the luxury of dealing with my personal issues NOT DURING AN ICE AGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To my friends and family and online buds: I hope you are not offended by strong language, but the situation is much more offensive than my words.

I thought I was done with email for tonight but on the tv news the big story is the Israeli ground attack, and everybody has an opinion. Well, my opinion is this:

If some idiots start throwing rocks through your windows, it's okay for you to take action, right? Talk to them? Call the police? Throw rocks back? And if they continue to do it, you are expected to defend your home and family, right? And if the police can't or won't stop it, what are you supposed to do? Is it logical for you to continue to throw rocks back and forth for years? If you go outside to stop your attackers, are you considered an aggressor? Is it logical for you to accept advice from people who watch the whole thing but don't help?

In my PTSD group have been many women abused by men. One of the issues is how they continue to accept the abuse without fighting back.

For years the nursing home has committed abuse upon abuse of Tom, but until now I have spoken nicely to all the people in charge and waited while they made promises to improve things.

Women did not get the vote by asking nicely and waiting for help. African-Americans did not get equal rights by asking nicely and waiting for help.

So my opinion is, FUCK THE STUPID FUCKS, do what you have to do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To quote a famous rally from World War II, GO FOR BROKE!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lh57ACP6bA4

It's 0330 and my burping and night sweats woke me up, so what better to do that write a blog? Keeping with the topic of intestines, as mine are suffering mightily, I will offer an observation with a possible interpretation, and, as always, welcome your comments. Your comments feed me!

Does it seem that in recent years there's been a change in science fiction and action movies, specifically that when somebody dies in a bloody way, his or her intestines spill out? I don't remember that happening nearly so much. There were many fewer liver bits, and much less spurting blood. What's the deal?

Just maybe, we can look to our president for an answer. Assuming my observation is valid, then we might go on to see a correlation between the fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan with the increase in spilled intestines and the spurting of arterial blood in movies. I postulate that the returning vets are sharing their experiences on the virtual Silver Screen. This trend might have begun during the Gulf War, but as an avid fan of corny B-movies on the SciFi Channel, I can say that it's definitely accelerated. His spin doctors worry about his legacy, but we will be reminded of it for many years to come.

Not always accurately. Yesterday a giant snake bit off the top half of a guy, leaving his bottom half pulsating gouts of blood onto the ground. What's wrong with that, you ask? Think about it: the pumping heart is in the upper half of the body. But, oh, well.

I cannot help but see the condition of society reflected in everything society endeavors to do. Perhaps this is the sad tiredness, or the tired sadness, of old people, the ones who survive the endless wars.

Gotta talk fast because I'm on lunch break. You all tell me: are drivers relying more on "body language" than ever before? I was taught to use turn signals. It seems as though an increasing number of highway drivers are preferring to use their cars to communicate their needs. For example, instead of signalling to indicate a desire to enter your lane in front of you, I see drivers hover alongside of you, just ahead of you, maintaining your speed exactly. I guess the idea is that you are suposed to drop back and let them in. Another example is tailgating to communicate to you that you must now move out of the way because they are KING OF THE ROAD.

I should not have such a rebellious attitude, but this makes me angry. Signals are bright and easy to notice. They also lack ambiguity. I sometimes feel as though there is a power struggle involved in the "body language" communications, and I am being bullied to engage. But we both should be focusing on driving safely, not all this stuff.

What do yall think? This definitely gives new meaning to the way we think of body language.

I had a very strange experience yesterday morning. Nothing much actually happened, but it ended up becoming pretty emotional nevertheless.

I stopped at a convenience store to get coffee. Nobody was in there, or so I thought, except the clerk over by the coffee area. I felt a bit sorry for her because her store was empty because the gas station next door was selling gas for four cents less a gallon. "Hello!" I chirped, hoping to impart casual friendliness at her deserted store. I was happy at the thought of getting coffee since I was out of it at home, also happy because ... I just felt happy.

Oops, the woman wasn't the clerk, she was just a person, like me. The clerk was hidden behind the counter. The woman looked at me warily, apparently wondering why I said hello so boldly as if I knew her. I spent the next several minutes generating body language to indicate that I was not a perverted lesbian stalker. I smiled chirpily at her little dog on the leash to give the impression that I was just a chirpy person in general. I scrupulously avoided any further eye contact, instead focusing on pouring a cup of coffee. I felt like I was in an Ellen Degeneres skit, "just gettin' my coffee, that's all, just coffee, yup, just gettin' a cup of coffee." I almost made a jovial comment to let her know that I thought she worked there, but that might have been insulting. I also considered a comment along the lines of, "strange anthropological phenomenon, that, a greeting that generates the same effect as invading personal air space; difficult to retract a hello gustily issued in error!" I didn't really want to retract the hello, just retract the gusto with which it was delivered. Oh, well, better just to shut up, I decided.

Of course I ended up in line right behind her. Again she looked at me cautiously as I studied the lottery tickets on the countertop. I kept my distance. She actually began to relax a bit. When she asked the clerk about cardboard coffee cup carriers that she couldn't find, I said I forgot to get one and that I would get her one. Without making any eye contact, I turned my back on her and went over there. Doing something nice for her was bad, placing me back in the helpful stalker mode, but having a hot cup of coffee and turning my back on her negated that.

Ok, I could drag this out longer, but you get the point. We each got our coffee, made a tenuous peace, and went our separate ways. But I brooded about the ridiculousness of it for several miles along the highway, how I'd been so preoccupied with the metalanguage beyond the "hello" that might have meant so many unintended things, and how complex our society is. It is much easier just to avert one's eyes and avoid the whole thing.

A word to the wise: just don't say hello in a way that places too much emphasis on social engagement; say hello like you don't really mean it, and you'll probably be ok. If that's what you want.

I hope this won't insult anyone. It's a theory, a query, nothing more.

Are you one of the people that insists on the toilet paper and paper towel rolls being hung a certain way so the paper drapes just the way you like it?

I myself, a few years back, decided that I didn't care and that it didn't matter. I began to play psychoanalyst, and came to the conclusion that an overly strong feeling of preference could be a manifestation of the desire to maintain control and order in one's personal life. Since most of us have questionable ability to maintain consistent control and order, the desire could be predictably sublimated into a metaphor. Assuming that is true, then it might logically follow that the people who are the most manic about having their toilet paper hanging a certain way might be those who feel the least in control of their personal lives.

Let me add that an indifference to the way the toilet paper hangs is by no means an indication of actually having control of one's personal life. One may not even HAVE a personal life.

I invite commentary.

We need to get rid of Columbus Day.

Think logically: if I come over to your house uninvited, or even invited, can I "claim" it? Did I "discover" it? That makes no sense. Having Columbus Day is like celebrating Hitler Day or Napoleon Day or Jihad Day.

The true discoverers of America are now being debated by archaeologists because it appears that an Asian-based contingent came via the Bering Strait by foot or by boat near the same time a European contingent came by boat island-hopping via Iceland and Greenland. This was several thousand years ago, while the glaciers were still covering much of North America. The Vikings came a thousandish years ago, and Columbus was nothing more than a latecomer invader.

It's only a matter of time before this holiday is eliminated.

In keeping with my recent fish theme, I want to post a poem written by one of my Friends, NEIL. I hope you'll visit his site and enjoy his poetry via his blogs.

I read aloud and discussed one of them at work during my weekly presentation (I work with elderly people in adult day services and have a weekly variety hour they call "Randi's Round-Up"); the participants really seemed to enjoy hearing it and expressing their feelings about it.

Anyway, read this:



The pool



The pool was quiet, still, resting
Gathering warmth
From the early morning sun
The pike waited
As the mist hanging on the water
Slowly disappeared
Soon, Insects raced or danced
Over the surface of a watery mirror
A small nymph tangoed
With himself
A dragonfly hovering while drinking
Appeared to be kissing herself
Like a green narcissus
A vole sitting on the bank
Thought of breaking the mirror
But went back to sleep instead
The sun rose a little higher
The last of the mist was gone
And so was a small fish
The pike had killed

Earlier this summer I witnessed a scene that affected me so much that I made notes about it to use later as symbolism in some future novel.

The grass was green, the sky was blue, the air was sweet, it was a beautiful afternoon as I pulled up to my apartment. Across the common yard I saw a young cat frolicking in the shade of a big maple. "How cute!" I thought, and watched a few minutes. Then I noticed an annoying, distracting harsh sound. It was a bird squawking on the telephone cable suspended above the area where the cat was playing. The bird was very distraught, hopping about and cocking its head down. I examined the cat scene more closely and realized that it was flipping a baby bird in the air and catching it with its claws. A moment later, the cat disappeared in the bushes with its meal, leaving the mother bird squawking alone on the wire. A single tiny down feather lay in the grass below.

I was grossed out and wanted to do something to help, but as I moved closer, I think I drove the cat deeper into the bushes. Grisly as it was, I saw literary value in that the scene initially appeared innocent and happy but very quickly revealed itself to be something sinister. It was a scene that plays out every day all over the world, has for years, and will continue, but it was wrenching for me because it symbolized so many human assumptions and plans. It also showed the torment in deciding if intervention is useful, obligatory, or worthless.