Who are these silent strangers waiting for me to know who they are?

Monday, February 28, 2011

Warning - severe ranting and whining

So, let me get this straight. My financial institution sent me checks for a different account than the one requested. I did not realize it was a different account since my original financial Institution was bought out and these were my first checks. I thought they must have changed the account number. I paid my health insurance with one. (last november) it just came back last Friday NSF, because it was the wrong account. Now, I am in arrears for 3 months (money I thought had already been taken out) - no four because I have to wait for the correct checks to come from my bank since this is the only form of payment my health insurance will accept. They don't do debit cards and I live in a different state than my bank so I cannot hop in the car and get a cashiers check or money order. On top of that, K has decided that health insurance is too expensive anyway and we will just have to do without until August. (provided nothing happens between now and then) and provided anyone will give us coverage since we have been cancelled for non payment! I feel a heart attack coming on. As if I would know when one hit since I can't breathe anyway and I am too busy coughing up my lungs. Oh for a cigarette! Not that I dare have one with my lungs in full revolt and no insurance on the horizon to rescue me. What the fucking hell is wrong with this world when you can't even use your own money. Who came up with the idea for an annuity? Why did we fall for it? Why, again, can't I withdraw my own money when I am in desperate need of food and essentials without losing 40% of what I withdraw? This is fucking nuts!!! And why is it acceptable to certain people that we do without insurance and live on peanut butter rather than pay this obscene penalty? I just want to know. And while I'm ranting, did I mention there are no jobs anywhere in WV.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

TV and democracy

I'd like to know when my person became a democracy instead of a dictatorship. Why should my back have equal say in the work I choose to do and why should my lungs be able to vote no whenever they want. Hmmmpf and whine. And why oh why must K change the channel like a freaking revolving door. Every time I look up there is another program on.
"Have fun. Good Luck to both of you" . . . "We got to eat. Grab hold of that thang right behind it's head" . . ."It's equal parts, call my name and equal parts, don't call my name". . . "The Australian Outback is treacherous" . . ."Monday" . . . "This thunderstorm has already produced a tornado". . . "Our staff over there" . . ."in her bedroom. It's what happens when I touch". . ."You're a bad, bad man." . . . "*gunfire* Let's go! Everybody move. We've got perimeters set up". . . "We don't like it when it's gooey" . . ."It's not sexual. Not that you are not an attractive woman." . . ."WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" . . . "There's nothing that works like confidence . . " . . "Hold my stones. . ." back track "keystones". . ." I need some hot chicks" . . ."I blog about these things" . . .

And I do, or I am. Anyway, My body is in civil unrest. I going to have get tough. There will be blood. Well maybe not. But when I tell my legs to walk, they damn well, better! None of this wibbly wobbley stuff. I stiff dose of Ibuprofen will strong arm it back into it's place. Hah!

Friday, February 25, 2011

Fevered post

If only I hadn't gone to the bathroom. At 2:30 in the a.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and that's when I knew the end of the world was coming. Suffering, as I am, from this terrible virus and feeling quite sorry for myself I decided that I needed a cup of tea (with honey). So, I went downstairs and put on the teapot. While I was waiting for the water to heat up I reasoned that I should have a cigarette. Now, being health challenged, I had left my pack of cigarettes in the car so that I would not be overly tempted to kill my lungs off unnecessarily. After a moments hesitation, I made my way out to the car and retrieved my coughing spell. AT the very moment when my hand touched the door handle, I heard a voice in the darkness.
"Ere you gonna do it? 'cause I airnt."
I whirled only to find . . . no one. There was no one there. Then another voice answered, "I already done did it." I glanced around and finally got my sights on the source of these voices. Two men were making their way up the drive across the street, headed for the pool table and beer above the garage, no doubt.
"Well,I think yer a damn fool. Tell me about it." Yes, I thought. Tell us all about it. I dove back into the house and grabbed a cup of hot water, a tea bag and my coat and headed back out to linger by the car.
Sure enough, they were up above the garage, and as always the windows were wide open. I got out there just in time to hear the first break of the rack and the rueful cursing of the first shooter.
" I hope you did a better job'n 'at. If you haint done it right we'll all pay."
I could see the silhouette of the first man with his bushy moustache leaning on the pool cue. My hot tea steamed nicely warming my hands. Inside, Moustache man prepared to take his shot.
The skinny man leaned out the window and hocked a juicy one. I shrunk back against the van, glad I hadn't lit my cigarette yet.
Turning back to the room and formidable moustache he said, "I went on down to armree and booted up that new computer. I was.." "How'd ya get the password?" "Stop interruptin' me and take your shot or admit I'm better'n you." I pulled out my cigarette fascinated. The clash of pool balls sounded and I heard one make a pocket. "See, 'ere? So, like I was sayin' I was entering the password, the one stenciled on the monitor screen." "Well, hell, who was stupid enough to do that?"

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Part one of Misery

Today is a perfectly hideous day. I started this day griped in the clutches of insomnia. I knew I was getting sick last night but what the hell can you do? About 5:30 am I finally dosed off. When I awoke I found that insomnia had indeed sold me into slavery. I must have caught the sweat lodge flu. My chest hurts, my head hurts, my throat is hamburger, every joint screams in protest when I move and coughing is sheer agony. When I get out of bed I get the chills and shake so bad I could stand in as a good paint mixer. Even my skin and scalp hurt. I have been thinking of taking some pain killer but that would require I drag myself out of bed and downstairs so I could eat something first. K is sick too. Besides, he was already angry at me because I didn't get up till 10. He is not quite as miserable as me yet. Maybe there is hope. Maybe he will heat up a bowl of soup for me. Oh wait, I am being skyped. This will be part 1

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

The Great Distractors

It is after 9 am. Here I sit, hostage to my cat. He sitting in my lap, motoring away, and slaying me with his lethal cuteness. I politely informed him that I needed to be working but he just blinked at me in that lazy way put his paw on my face. J calls them the great distractor. They are experts at this from the moment they enter your life. So, mindful of my little friend, I did some random net surfing. Surprising. If you do not own a cat you are 30 to 40 percent more likely to suffer from cardiovascular disease. Owning a cat also reduces the risk of sudden heart attack and boosts your immune function. Cats lower blood pressure,triglycerides, and cholesterol. They also reduce the risk of stroke. Of course, they reduce anxiety and stress. I assume all these benefits are for cat owners that actually spend time with their cats. The article failed, however, to mention the humor factor. They can be so ridiculous. Need a good laugh? Give your cats an empty 12 can box or a bottle cap. So I justify my delay as therapy.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Singing in the Rain

"I have never been much cheered by the "stencilled smile", the false front, the pretending that there was no pain when pain was there, that there was no trouble when trouble stalked, that there was no death when Death laid his cold hand upon one dearer to us than life; but I have been tremendously cheered by the brave front; the imagination that could travel past the trouble and see that there were still joys in the world." From the Book Singing in the Rain (1926) I came across this while researching. I've seen this stencilled smile on too many faces and been horrified to discover it on my own at times. I have just spent a very interesting weekend at a friend's house attending a sweat lodge. These friends and another couple are being hit hard by the economy. One couple has just lost their home and therefore their business. They have a scant 2 weeks to move out of the house they built with their own hands and sell everything in it and their barns. Thousands of dollars in equipment going for mere hundreds. They have no choice. There are no jobs to be had anywhere in the area and they are moving to another state where they are assured employment. The business lost was construction, wood working, building, remodeling. The job gained is on the oil rigs in Texas. These men are in their sixties and this is a hard life. Yet, they had the imagination to see the joys that are still in the world. I came away humbled and amazed at the attitudes and strength of character I witnessed. In between the "garage sale"and watching a $700 saw go for $50, the four small grandchildren they are raising all being ill with the flu, and packing up everything they own, they still found time and energy to make an incredible all day roast, participate in the sweat lodge and continue to volunteer at the Food Pantry. Amazingly their Food Pantry serves 167 families a day! Did I mention there is no work anywhere in the area? K is suddenly realizing the drawbacks to WV. He is actually contemplating TX. What will we do! Ah well, a very good experience this weekend and a feeling of loss. I just met these people and they are already gone.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Spider's Web

I have been contemplating the subjective nature of truth. It is spine chilling how easily people are swayed by their emotions, or vague memories or manipulations or even by what they hear first. It is terrifying to think that a persons life & death could be decided by 'eye witness' accounts (especially those of young children). I have been observing the effects of subtle manipulations of reality or truth. It really is like watching a spider weave a web. A very slow and almost imperceptible ***K is now playing his bagpipe chanter)***can't think.

An almost imperceptible weaving of truth, insinuation, lies flavored with whatever emotion the manipulator wishes you to feel. If they hit the right emotion button, the victim doesn't consciously think about what is being said. Instead, later when they are reaching into memories, they are just as likely to dredge up the fabricated emotion or facts simply because it is what's most recent in their minds. I am amazed at how much patience a person has to have to weave a web a year or more in the making. Just as fascinating is when the web is simply a safety net - woven just because it might be necessary in the future. Frustratingly, most victims of said spiders never realize they have been manipulated. They don't want to know.
Sociopaths are experts at these simple techniques and they think that no one can see their game.
I will think some more on this behavior....

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

intrepid shopper

Today I played the part of intrepid shopper. My husband determined that we must go to the hardware store and purchase a sump pump since the one below our house was beginning to sound like an angry bull moose. Off we went from the edge of civilization to the hardware store. (About a 45 minutes drive) Upon entering the store I received my sales flyer from a smiling octogenarian and a shopping cart (buggy if you're from WV). We began our search for the pump and other sundry items with high hopes. Finally, after reaching the far side of the store without luck, we came upon a gaggle of red and blue vested workers idling near the lumber. Approaching them with caution we asked where we might find said pumps. "Isle 4 for sure or maybe isle five" we were assured. Sure enough, there they were in isle 6. My husband than began his deep contemplation of each and every pump. I must admit my attention drifted and I decided to follow it. I proceeded down the next isle only to be blocked by a nauseating version of Tweedledee and Tweedledum, in matching red and green outfits. Between the two and their buggy, their was no room, for even the thinnest of persons to eek by. I retreated and tried the next isle over. Here amongst the wall of shining door knobs and hinges I met a wall of stench. I am not entirely sure but I think the mountain of flesh contemplating hinges before me had actually died last week and was off gassing right there. Perhaps that was the reason the vested workers were all on the other side of the store, the side furthest from the decomposing mound of smell. Once again I backed my cart away and tried the next isle. Here I found John-John. He looked to be about 3 and had created a 2 foot square forest of shiny flat head screws. It was quite artistic, the way he arranged all of them standing upright and in little clusters of various sizes. In the back ground I could hear the purple spandex encased blimp screeching in a high pitched voice at complete odds with her girth "John-John. John-John, where air you boy? You better git back here 'fore haf ta tell yer Daddy." How thoughtful this youngster is, to provide hours of useful work to a young vested associate. Yes, they would certainly have fun sorting those flat head screws of various sizes and diameters back into the little bins. Prudently, I reversed my cart once more and took a different route. Just ahead was another Michelin tire mascot leaning heavily on the buggy and ponderously inching forward. He was wearing a padded, down and nylon jacket that was several shades of yellow. I managed to whisk by him and gain the lead. Now I was really getting somewhere. I found myself in an isle of cleaning supplies. (not terribly effective for fighting zombies) was the thought that swam into my brain. Previously, I have been thoroughly indoctrinated on the art of defense against the living dead by my son and now see hardware stores in a new light. Oh well, my husband has chosen his sump pump and now we can exit this adventure and drive back to the edge of the world. Until next time . . .

Monday, February 7, 2011

Computer woes and old ladies

Today is a gloomy winter day. I looked at the mountains when we went to the grocery store and they didn't look happy either. They looked kind of like an old lady with a bad hair day. You know the kind I mean, where you can see the scalp with the cloud of hair hovering above it. The snow has melted off the trees but not the ground, so I see humps of sad white mountain with bare trees hovering above. Ugly. Anyway, I have been attempting to work on multiple things. Every time I start, not only does it take 5 times longer but I am ultimately stopped by the simple tasks. I can't get my documents on the mac to open up. If I could open them, then I could paste the contents into an email to send to myself so I could copy & paste into the pc word '03. I can't actually change anything on the external hard drive and all the documents are saved in mac formats. None of it matters if I can't get the documents to even open. I used to love my mac. My happy friendly mac. Now I am working on this loud, clacking evil vista from 2005. (I think) I guess I should stop whining and just start over. With all these stupid cords going every where, to external drives and printers and multiple computers, and of course, to the power source since the battery doesn't hold a charge,I am trapped in my seat. Each computer or device has its own idiosyncrasy - K's computer turns off if it is not kept flat, my mac has no working screen and has to be hooked to K's, the stupid vista won't connect to either of those and to print from it I have to connect it directly to the printer, if I access the external drive through the computer from hell, I can't actually view any thing because its all mac based. grrrrr. I am going in circles. So, start over. Right? I just don't want to. It should start snowing soon. Maybe I'll just take a break and watch the flakes falling on the logging trucks as they speed past my house.

Friday, February 4, 2011


I am now devastated. My computer is broken. My hard drive is fine but the nvidia card is shot. I have read about this issue and there is a class action suit. I just have to find my proof of purchase (good luck), send the computer (my life) away and wait a couple months for them to send it back. My only consolation is that I have not lost any data. My hard drive is fine. I just have to buy a new external drive so I can back everything up before I send it all away. Now, I truly know what isolation in WV is like. I can access the internet through my husbands computer - when he is not using it. I can go back and use the old desk top (slow and out of date) and be tethered to the desk. I feel so frustrated and angry and just want to whine. Oh well . . .