Posts Tagged ‘Sigh’

Mercy me

Sunday, November 20th, 2011

To answer the question posed as the subject line of my last post: Yes. Oh Lord, yes. It can get a lot worse.

I never talk about my private life because then I don’t have to talk about it when it’s going badly, but allow me to say that although they claim it’s April, and I would normally argue the case for February, this year November is the hands-down biggest bitch in sight.

It’s been a hard month, and I’m a bit worse for the wear.

Things are more messed up than I would have guessed.

I’m still alive, so there’s that.

And I have an approach to life that says: when bummed out, focus on what you can control. There is a lot of work I’ve been neglecting, so guess what’s getting its ass kicked in the next week?  Yep. The book, advertising my hypnotherapy practice, planting my growth-challenged seedlings and building a lovely water system the snails will probably enjoy as they chow down on said seedlings (as they really are about salad-sized to a snail. They have dwarfism or something. I can’t figure it out.)

 

It’s funny, but last night Fu got out. Okay, that’s not funny at all actually. It was harrowing and terrifying, and I kept checking the highway for his remains and feeling like the worst mother ever, but once I found him meowing out front by my Jeep and order was restored in that part of the universe, I thought of this quote: “Just imagine how happy you’d be if you lost everything you have right now… and then got it all back.”

~ Bertrand Russell

 

lamb and beef curry

This is one of the images you get when you do a Google image search on "mercy." Lord knows if I ate this, my colon would be screaming "mercy!" and then "open the gates and release the hounds!" but that's probably more detail than you want or need.

This was a sobering thought considering how much energy I’ve been wasting on worry and disappointment and nitpicking on things that aren’t that important. It’s a life affliction, really, and one I hope I can purge myself of.

With respect to the quote, it’s not ALL back – my sanity, my peace of mind, the one thing in my life that gave me some bouts of wild hope are still AWOL. I had a hand in my own current, semi-depressing situation, so I’m not whining: just sad. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m trying to focus on what IS right; what is perfect in this moment.

Fu is sleeping in the hallway. Dozer is in the kitchen. I can hear the wind and the ocean outside. There is food in the fridge and I have things to wear. There are brains in my head that can be used to work out some of this money stuff that worries me lately. Tomorrow is a new day.

Tomorrow is always a new day.

And whether or not it is clear to me, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

So I’ve got going for me, and I’m going to work on being super freaking grateful for it. Until then, I’ll try to cheer my sorry ass up, because nobody likes whining vague posts about cats and other disappointments.

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You never know: maybe this could be a GOOD thing?

Tuesday, October 25th, 2011

Surely there’s some gold coins or a yen or two included in here somewhere…

Up to 20 million tons of debris from Japan’s tsunami moving toward Hawaii

 

Some 5 to 20 million tons of debris–furniture, fishing boats, refrigerators–sucked into the Pacific Ocean in the wake of Japan’s March 11 earthquake and tsunami are moving rapidly across the Pacific. Researchers from the University of Hawaii tracking the wreckage estimate it could approach the U.S. West Coast in the next three years, the UK Daily Mail reports.

“We have a rough estimate of 5 to 20 million tons of debris coming from Japan,” University of Hawaii researcher Jan Hafner told Hawaii’s ABC affiliate KBBV.

 

Bring on the bounty...

Crew members from the Russian training ship the STS Pallada “spotted the debris 2,000 miles from Japan,” last month after passing the Midway islands, the Mail wrote, ”They saw some pieces of furniture, some appliances, anything that can float, and they picked up a fishing boat,” said Hafner. The boat was 20-feet long, and was painted with the word “Fukushima.”  ”That’s actually our first confirmed report of tsunami debris.”

 

I could use a fishing boat…to sell on Craigslist anyway.

In fact, I could use a lot of stuff to sell on Craigslist…

People are nuts. They’ll buy anything. And put them in a competitive bidding situation? They’ll REALLY buy anything.

Maybe a little site called “Tsunami Treasures” or maybe “Fukushima Flotsam” and I can continue to pay the rent for a few months? Hmmm…

 

 

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Tough times call for bad ideas

Wednesday, July 6th, 2011

So Casey Anthony was found not guilty. If you’re not an American (or you’re a completely unplugged American [and good for you, if so! Although now that I think about it: how and why are you reading this if that's the case? Hmmm.... The mind boggles.]), those words may mean nothing.Thus – and in extreme brief – Casey Anthony is a young Florida woman whose two-year old daughter went missing for 31 days…and she didn’t report it ever. In fact, she went out partying and got a tattoo that said “Bella Vita” two weeks after the baby disappeared and told a whole lotta lies about where the child was (a nanny who didn’t exist, an amusement park, the beach) when her parents inquired.

 

Bernie Madoff

Perhaps I could take up a collection from those he hosed?

That much is fact. The rest – that she murdered the kid or it accidentally died and she drove Caylee (the child) around in a trash bag in her trunk for weeks before dumping her body off in the woods – are circumstantial, which is why she’s now about to go free and cash in on the whole horrible thing. On the one hand, I suppose this is an indicator that the system works. I’d rather have guilty people walking around out there than innocent people on death row (I don’t think there should be death row at all, but that’s probably more than I need to get into right now).

On the other hand, this turn of events has inspired not one, but two people to suggest that I get myself involved in a high-profile crime – but also somehow assure that I get away with it. One idea was that I shoot someone in the head – a la Amy Fischer – but make sure they don’t die (because that’s so easily achieved. << ahem >>) and the other was that I kill someone important. Now, when I push for details – how do I both kill someone notable AND get tied to the crime, but still manage to get away with it – my would-be PR reps fall suddenly mum.

When I ask why this is necessary: isn’t my writing and the new book sufficient to earn me a relevant paycheck and a career? Shouldn’t I keep the faith that *somebody* has to get the multi-million dollar deals and the Pulitzer: why not me? AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH JUST THE WAY I AM??? Well, let’s just say you could hear the crickets chirping.

However, when I plead: do I REALLY have to kill someone and get away with it to make it as a writer, the response was a resounding “yes.”

Charlie Sheen crazy

My god, what is wrong with this man? And how can anyone find it amusing???

So there you go. You can’t fight city hall or completely insane PR advice or the fact that if the glove doesn’t fit, you must acquit. Thus, I am currently taking suggestions for my perfect murder. I’m thinking I could execute both a terrible crime and a public service, all the while putting my name on the map. A win/win, if you will.

I’ve given it some thought, and my short target list includes:

1. Charlie Sheen

2. Bernie Madoff

3. Casey Anthony

 

The actual deed could go down something like

1. In the library with a candlestick

2. In the billiards room with a rope

3. In the conservatory with a lead pipe.

 

Granted, there are still a lot of details to work out, old mansions to procure and lure Charlie Sheen into, and hardware store shopping to execute. Probably I should read up on non-death penalty states. Maybe I should get my head checked or wait a little longer just in case this new book really is the one.  On the other hand, I was looking for hard statistics, and allegedly the odds that you’ll get away with murder are 2:1. Similarly, 2/3 of all murders go unsolved.  I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to think I just might pull this off…

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So Are the Days of Our Lives

Monday, May 2nd, 2011

Here’s a bunch of random stuff from my phone from the last couple weeks that I really should delete.

I am sharing it with you so that those things that briefly fascinated me (or seemed to hold enough potential that I was moved to take a picture at that time, but then that was all that ever happened) are not lost to the world.

Bask in the wonderment of it all.

Vacuuming the street

Unlike the dog, it knows to wait until the little green guy appears.

 

Some days I like to take my vacuum cleaner out for a walk. It enjoys the exercise, and I appreciate the quiet time together.

Vacuuming outside

Just your average day: on a stroll with the wet vac.

I’m just kidding. The dog keeps lifting his leg (indoors) and I had to buy a steam cleaner off Craigslist. I talked the lady into bringing it to me…sort of. She agreed to meet, so long as it was an exit of I-5. Thus, I had to walk up there and then drag it through town and back to the apartment where I commenced an exciting afternoon of wetting down and sucking up urine stains. A$$hole. He’s damn lucky he’s so cute.

Adorable Malamute

He's turning Japanese. I really think so.

See what I mean? He’s so stinking cute. And looking a bit Asian in this photo. And that’s the root of the problem: who can really stay mad at a face like that???

 

I love Pho

I love Pho, and - clearly - Pho loves me.

I think the waiter at the Vietnamese place was trying to tell me something…

Lady Gaga hasn't thought of this yet. Or has she?

REALLY?

If you had your choice between wearing a Hefty Heavy Duty Trash Bag in public and getting wet…wouldn’t you just get wet? Yeah. Me too.

 

Babies shouldn't drink alcohol.

This is from a book in my office. It makes me laugh AND it's sound advice.

See caption. I pretty much told you all there is to tell you on this one.

Toilet stall graffiti

Bathroom stall wisdom.

This was from the bathroom stall at El Corazon, taken the night my friend Karen performed there. I was – roughly – three beers along when it seemed like a good idea to photograph this.

Alaskan Malamute destructive

Simple pleasures.

Admit it: who doesn’t enjoy tearing the crap out of a cardboard box?

Discarded neck tie

Damn, that's an ugly necktie.

This necktie was discarded in the stairwell, and I briefly thought maybe it was another pineapple in the elevator moment. But then I took a better look at the photo and realized this was not that in the least.

It’s still there, by the way, if you’re interested.

Crazy person's house

I did not know this.

Sometimes insane people identify themselves by covering their homes in signs preaching excess craziness. I find this not only considerate, but helpful. Cross this guy off the trick or treating list…

Lady feeding pigeons and seagulls

This lady chaps my hide.

This is the pigeon and seagull (equal opportunity) feeding lady, because who doesn’t love a swarm of overfed, avian jumbo jets spewing crap from the sky? Plus she always acts like the dog is the Anti-Christ when he goes after the bread chunks and scares off the poop bombers, thus proving that in the battle for his soul, the angels are currently winning. At least at the moment…

Seal point Himalayan

Me and the rarely-photographed Fu, partly because he doens't like it and partly because - let's face facts here - his face is really dark and doesn't exactly photograph well.

Me and my monkey cat. No doubt he’s considering how hard he’ll need to claw me before I’ll get the camera out of his face and put him down. “I’ll cut you, lady! I’ll cut you!”

 

Carpet cleaner in a crosswalk

If anyone ever Googles "Carpet cleaner in a crosswalk" and then selects images, I hope at least this one ranks high.

It’s like the Abbey Road album cover, only with superior sound quality: I propose  00:47:26 of the sound of a vacuum cleaner running would be more pleasant.

Oh, wait. I just looked it up and “Here Comes the Sun” is on that album. I take that back: they’d be equally pleasant.

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Top Ten Ways I’d Prefer Not To Die

Saturday, March 19th, 2011

10. Eaten by a bear.

9. Eaten by a lion.

Normally, this guy would make #1 on the list.

8. Eaten by a shark.

7. Eaten by a cannibal (full-time or spur of the moment)

6. Burned at the stake

5. Tortured by the CIA or KGB or any three-initial agency.

4. Jumping from the window of an 80-story building rather than dying inside it.

3. Anything that involves prolonged bleeding out.

2. Made into the left arm of a skin tuxedo shortly after spending several weeks in a pit in some psycho’s basement well-oiled with copious amounts of Lubriderm.

1.  Sitting on my couch covered in Betadine and swallowing $2000 worth of iodine pills, while nonetheless being irradiated to death by a the meltown of a Japanese nuclear power plant 5000 miles away.

There.

I cannot watch this actor in anything without thinking of this scene. Remember on Family Guy when Meg embarrasses Chris by showing the other kids a video where he's re-enacting this scene? My god: so funny.

I said it.

I don’t like this one bit, and if I’m understanding all this correctly, it’s probably the only item on the list somewhat likely to happen. Or at least 5% likely which is entirely too likely for my liking.

I don’t like it, and I’m not sure I understand it, and I don’t feel terribly empowered to outsmart it. In fact, I’m rather scared and somewhat freaking the fuck out.

Most likely the government is lying to us. Our government, Japan’s government, anybody in the know. In fact, I suspect anyone who knows anything real is probably whispering a soothing “there, there” while quietly slipping into a NBC suit and heading into their insulated underground survival chamber. Rita Rudner has a bit about flying in which she suggests that the air masks aren’t really to provide oxygen to the passengers: they’re to muffle their screams.

I’m feeling the same way about this iodine thing.

Or maybe I feel that way because I don’t have any, and I’m not really interested in going down a la John Cusack in FAT MAN AND LITTLE BOY. I haven’t seen that movie in fifteen years, but I still remember that particular scene: not good.

So that’s it.

I’m having some generalized anxiety about all this, and I’m not really sure what to do about it. I suppose I’ll soon bounce and return to my old standbys: shameless positive thinking and excess sweep-it-under-the-rug denial.  However, and until then, I will remain uncomfortable and uneasy: it’s quite possibly the end of the world as we know it, and I do not feel fine.

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