Saturday, August 29, 2009

My nerves are bad tonight




I don't know if i am dying, or already dead. I don't know if I want to be dead or alive anymore. I don't know anything anymore. Even no respite, no help from beloved Eliot.



My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.


'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.


'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?

'I never know what you are thinking. Think.'




I think we are in rats' alley


Where the dead men lost their bones.






The wind under the door.


'What is that noise now? What is the wind doing?'




'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember


'Nothing?'

I remember nothing. April is not the cruelest month. September is.

Friday, August 28, 2009

The Most Beautiful Video I Have Ever Seen-Tezcatlipoca








I know it's silly, but I would love to see this film go viral. The creator is a 24 year old student who worked on this an entire semester for a senior project. And I have a thing for Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.





Like other Aztec deities, Tezcatlipoca could be both helpful and destructive. As a god of the sun, he ripened the crops but could also send a burning drought that killed the plants. The patron god of helpless folk such as orphans and slaves, he was also the patron of royalty, and he gloried in war and human sacrifice. Another of Tezcatlipoca’s roles was to punish sinners and cheats, but he himself could not be trusted.














Although associated with the sun, Tezcatlipoca was even more strongly linked with night and its dark mysteries, including dreams, sorcery, witches, and demons. Legend said that he roamed the earth each night in the form of a skeleton whose ribs opened like doors. If a person met Tezcatlipoca and was bold enough to reach through those doors and seize his heart, the god would promise riches and power in order to be released. He would not keep his promises, though….

As a trickster god, Tezcatlipoca delighted in overturning the order of things, causing conflict and confusion. Sometimes, these disruptions could also be a source of creative energy and positive change. Tezcatlipoca’s ultimate trick was one he played on his fellow god Quetzalcoatl. After introducing Quetzalcoatl to drunkenness and other vices, he used his mirror to show Quetzalcoatl how weak and degraded he had become. Quetzalcoatl fled the world in shame, leaving it to Tezcatlipoca. He did, however, promise to return at the end of a 52-year cycle.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

It goes in twos, not threes


It's obvious when I worked in the newsroom I researched and wrote obits.

Breaking over the wires this past hour, Dominick Dunne has died, at the age of 83. Coming on this morning's death of Senator Ted Kennedy, it is like deja vu on the death of JFK. People forget that Aldous Huxley died the same day. Kennedy's death overshadowed the great writer of "Brave New World".

To many Dominick Dunne was simply the father of the "Close Encounters" actress Dominque Dunne. He started writing for Vanity Fair magazine in March 84, covering the trial of the man accused of his daughter's murder. Before he started writing, he was known as the producer of such films as The Boys in the Band, Panic in Needle Park, Play It as It Lays, and Ash Wednesday.

A lovely paragraph from his obituary on the Vanity Fair website
But by this time drugs and alcohol had become an unmanageable part of his life, and in 1975 he drove himself up to the woods in Oregon. Living alone in a cabin, he became sober and began, at age 50, to write.


Dunne was also a best selling author and had done some shows for Court TV.

The entire obit is here .

The End of Camelot


Weird that I am crying over the death of Senator Ted Kennedy. Does this mean I have a good heart, or I am just forgetting about
Mary Jo Kopechne?


Or is it the end of my life in a weird, round circle, I was born under Camelot- i am going to die now that Camelot is over?

My brain is going weird. I once got a phone call from my sister who was over the moon, she was walking down the street near Wall Street, and she saw JFK Jr. buying a hotdog from a street vendor. The ex's story about when he was a small boy his parents drove all night so their children could see JFK and Jackie. How my parents loved RFK, and the first time I ever saw my mother cry was the night RFK died, I heard her cry and sat in the bed with her for a bit.

I thought about volunteering on the Kennedy 84 campaign, but decided against it- feeling he had too much baggage, and the death of Mary Jo Kopechne just didn't make me comfortable.

With the previous post on Carl Sagan and Dust in the Wind, I know we are just specks of dust in a cosmic universe.

But-

Don't let it be forgot / That once there was a spot / For one brief shining moment / That was known as Camelot!


RIP Ted Kennedy. Peace to your wife and children.

ETA:There is one child left as of this writing from Joseph and Rose's marriage. Jean Kennedy Smith. William Kennedy Smith is her son. In 1991 he was aquitted of rape in a very high profile case.

Friday, August 21, 2009

On the roots of the Carl Sagan post.....

I am too Existential tonight. This was on TV earlier, I finally found it on You Tube. Like it, or hate it, Kansas was one heck of a band.






Ok. Ok. "Dust in the Wind" does make you cry. How about Stan and Kyle doing "Carry On Wayward Son"?




The entire clip cannot be embedded, but it is here. It is five minutes long, get out the candles and groove.

Have a nice weekend. And for those who know my surname, they are the best guitars money can buy.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

I cannot resist posting this

This was sent to me by Wendy. I think it's really awesome. Carl Sagan really went before his time.
Please click on the image if you cannot see it. Personally I find it humbling.

Yes, it's one of those days.......



But it's all good.....I could be wrapped up in a Snuggie!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Bless You Andrew Sullivan

This is one of the most beautiful essays on bipolar I have ever read, and it's almost like I wrote this- it practically echoes my life in my twenties- only I didn't crash and burn until I was 23, lucky enough to get through school through mania interspersed with mild bouts of depression. It comes from today's blog by Andrew Sullivan.


When I'm off my medications, I will alternate spells of tearful anxiety fits with depressive episodes of 14 hours of sleep, the inability to concentrate, and near-constant suicidal thoughts. When I was kicked out of college (the first time) for bad grades, I was turned down by several private insurers for my pre-existing condition. And when my dad changed jobs, I was left in the lurch again. I've seen close to 12 doctors about it in the past four years, and believe me, as hard as it is to find a primary care physician, it is even more difficult to find a therapist that you like, trust, can afford, and who can treat your condition. And when you have a mental illness, you often have to switch prescriptions, dosage, and cocktails until you find a mixture that works for you. Sometimes, pills will stop working for no good reason, and it takes a quality professional to realize it and pull you out of a tailspin that you thought was being treated. And I'm sure your readers can tell even more stories about being turned down for jobs, being denied coverage, being hospitalized, and struggling for decades through the red tape, secrecy, and shame.


The author is lucky to have a good doc and realize that meds can poop out. I've never been able to find one and I've seen over 27 docs since my diagnosis.

The rest of the article is here.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Hot Town, Summer in the City

It's 99 degrees outside. Fahrenheit. I don't know how to convert to Celsius, but it's hotter than a hot thing that is quite hot.


Being a lithium user, i am intolerable to this kind of heat. It's not the heat in NJ/NYC, it's the HUMIDITY. You go outside ands your legs and arms feel like lead, and sweat comes out of pores they haven't even discovered in Med School. The air conditioning in my apartment is so crappy, it's brought it down to 90 degrees. Whoo-Hoo!


So I am in my underwear, glass of ice tea by side, on the sofa, it's too hot to write, even though I have something done and needing proofing, my brain cannot handle it . I have a tape recorder too if i cannot write fast enough, and it's too hot for that.

Maybe it's time to go in the bathtub, pretend it's a pool at some tropical resort, and the cat is a cabana boy fetching me tall cold iced glasses of ice tea, or water with a lemon wedge, covered in ice. I cannot stop drinking, I feel as thirsty as someone in the Sahara.

Or maybe it's time to dream i had the money to go to the ice hotel in Quebec.I wish I had a passport. I am so there.

This was on TV last night, great video, and the one it make fun out of is probably the best, seminal video to come out of the 80s.

Ladies and Gents- Chris Griffin

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Just for fun on a Sunday Night

One of my favorite songs. Enjoy.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Oh my aching back

Back is still real sore.

I feel like this puddy cat.


Hope to be blogging in a day or two.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Making Peace With The Past (Repost)

( I am literally bedridden with the back, so re-posting a piece a lot of new readers won't be familiar wiith)






12th Grade. First period. American History. The teacher, a former hippie and lover of all Rock and Roll from the 60s era, was presenting. It was supposed to be a lively discussion on Watergate, Nixon, and why we, mostly 18 year old now, needed to vote carefully in our first election that November. We were going to go on a class trip later that week to register to vote in the primaries, and later the fall election, and visit our congresswoman, the late, great, Millicent Fenwick, who was supposed to inspire us to vote and as a woman, inspire the girls to careers other than house wife.

I was 17. I, being a September baby, and one of the youngest kids in the classs could not vote, but thought the idea of meeting Ms. Fenwick would be neat. She was, after all, known to us as Lacy Davenport, in the "Doonesbury" strip.


That day I recall like yesterday. The class was split in two, half the desks on one side of the room, the isle in the middle vacant so the teacher could walk through on his way from his desk to the chalkboard. The other side of the room was filled with more desks.

And I , sitting at the desks nearest the door, recall thinking, not for the first time in my life, my mother's maiden surname started with a "G". Had she married a man who's surname had an surname, say A-H, or kept her maiden name, I wouldn't be in the predicament I was in then, For sitting a mere two seats away was my nemesis, my bully. Someone who also had a surname that started with an "S", And that day, like most of the other days, when it was my turn to speak in the class, he had all the other boys in the class stare at me, my face, my body, and i stammered out the correct answer, but not before I lost my train of concentration and had one of them call me an idiot and another one a dumb blonde.

When the bell rang to dismiss, I gathered up my history books, note book, put the pen and pencil in my handbag, and walked out of the room , not before I saw a foot lurch ahead in a feeble effort to trip me, and sighed when I saw him and a gang of boys circling his locker, a few lockers away from mine. it was going to be a long, long day. I wouldn't cry, but when when I got home the inside of my mouth was bruised from me biting it, and the popular cheerleader who had the locker next to mine, would be teasing me with her boyfriend, who was constantly necking with her during change of classes, and trying to feel her up, laughed at me, telling me that I was ugly, and a dried up virgin.

Sigh. It was also the first time I ever looked up the word "virgin" in the dictionary, Sir Richard Branson had not started his empire then.

Two of my blogging friends in the UK, Matthew Holford, of the "It's Quite an Experience Blog', and Fiddy of the "SEROXAT SUFFERERS (Paxil in the US), blog, have icons against bullying on their respective blogs. I know from reading Ben Elton, this is a problem in the UK and it has gotten a lot of press. I may be way behind the times, but I am glad it has a public presence, and this movement happened way before I became aware of it from the Celebrity Big Brother house antics against one Indian contestant making me gag watching it a back then on the bits I saw on You Tube. See, I got it real bad, all instigated by one lone boy, but had the misfortune of him being the President and main boy of the class.. So bad that from 10th grade til the day before graduation, I would think about suicide, not that I wanted to die, per say, I just wanted to be stopped being bullied. Now, he did not do this every day. Maybe once or twice a week, to keep me on my toes. But the anticipation lead to all kind of side effects like OCD, SI, and several, well, going home and taking a handful of Tylenol or Bayer aspirin in the feeble thought that five or six of them, or even as many as ten would make me sleep through the night and I would never wake up. But I never slept through the night. I had nightmares and panic. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't smart enough. I would never get into a good college, all my peers were getting into Ivy and Jr. Ivy.If I didn't get into the right school, I wouldn't have the right career, meet the right husband, have the right children. I was disappointing my parents, I couldn't hold a candle to my cousins, all who attended Ivy and were in careers like law, and engineering, or going on for PhD's. I would spend the night listening to WOR on the radio, the golden age for me, where Larry King had a radio talk show, and I could hear Jean Sheperd, and Bob and Ray, as well as Long John Neville. Home was my sanctuary. I could loose myself in a book on weekends write in my diary, lock myself away in the room while I put on records on the record player. LPs and 45s of the Beatles, Stones, Pink Floyd. I played "The Wall" over and over again til I wore out all the grooves, and had to replace it. Later I would get a copy of NJ's own native son Bruce Springsteen's "The River" and fell in love with him, playing "Point Blank" over and over so much I went through several LP's of this as well.

Another 45 I had that I wore out was Janis Ian's seminal "At Seventeen". That seemed to call to me when I was 16, I wasn't attractive, I was the last girl always picked in gym class for what ever game we were playing, baseball, basketball, volleyball, I had two left feet, the original klutz. I also got teased in the locker room, because I was one of the few girls that did not need to stuff her bra. Not then. Never in HS. If anything I was binding them to make them smaller, and by Senior year, would not be able to take co-ed gym class because the boys were staring at my chest. I would go out running in on the track when the weather was clement, and the gym teacher would tell me not to run, but walk really fast. To this day I cannot run. I power walk.

Unlike Ms. Ian, when I was 17 I went away to college, and learned for the first time since 3rd grade that I was intelligent. I was scoring A's and B's in school. I actually had people telling me I was attractive. The girls on my hall had modern clothes, and I traded in my preppy clothes, the turtlenecks and fair isle sweaters, the cordoroy pants and Treetorns on my feet, for cooler shoes, and shirts. Out came the jeans, on came makeup, I learned how to apply it and do my hair, growing it long. I developed confidence. And a strange thing happened. My body might have blossomed up in High School, but my mind blossomed up in college. With the confidence, I developed, the thoughts of death lessened. The SI stopped. Guys actually came to my room to talk, and the real cool ones, the jocks, would take me out for coffee and ask me to help them study. I had friends. I was happy.

And i learned to forgive those who hurt me so bad in high school.

By the time I was 20, I still might have been a dork in their eyes, but I was on Dean's List, I was in one of the best schools in the country for Liberal Arts, and I had my first real boyfriend. I was still a virgin, but I had finally had my first real kiss and proper grope in the back seat of his dad's old 76 black Jaguar. And I for the first time in my life, had groped back. Ah! So that was what it was all about!

And some amazing things started to happen. One was over the summer, between my Junior and Senior year in College. I was out to eat with my parents, I was living on campus, but drove down for the weekend to see them. We went to the local watering hole, a bar that resembled "Cheers", and a restaurant on the other side, that was famous for it's burgers and steaks. The waitress, much to my dismay, was the "evil" cheerleader who had her locker next to mine, and would never let me get to mine, slamming it shut and teasing me, if she wasn't necking in front of it.

I looked at her, she at me. And as she looked at me, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt, jeans, she smiled and said words to the effect that she was gravely sorry for teasing me in High School. She was told to do it by my nemesis, and she realized now she was wrong, and it was eating her up inside. I looked at her. At 20 she looked much older, closer to 30. She had a ring on her finger, meaning to me , she never finished her studies. A closer look revealed she was pregnant. I just smiled and said something like, that's OK, we were just kids then and all teenagers are jerks. It's not a big deal. I am happy now. I hope you are too.

My father left her a big tip. I found out later, she did indeed get pregnant during school, dropped out and got married. I don't know if she ever went back.

The weird thing is over the next decade of my life, I would bump into people from my class, or my sister would in the city. And every one of them, apologized to me about their teasing, their taunts, their bullying. Every one of them felt guilty . I repeated over and over, it is OK, it's in the past, and I forgave them. Why cannot they forgive themselves.

I forgave them all by the end of my Freshman year in college. All but the ringmaster. He still plagued my dreams, turning them into nightmares. I was back in High School again, late for first period US History. There would be tests given, about Vietnam, Watergate, and I would look at the test and not know the answer. The dream always ended the same, even if the classes changed. I looked up at the teacher and said "Screw this test, I have a college degree", or "I just got my Masters", Then I would wake up, heart racing, run to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and make sure that I was not 17 again and wanting to SI.

When I was 33 or 34 I was working part time in Border's bookstore, at night for extra money. I was working for a news agency, but not in the news room. Not then. I had a regular 9-5 job there typing stock numbers into a spreadsheet which would be downloaded and shown on TV and computers. One of my chief High School tormenters came in to purchase a couple of CD's. My heart almost dropped. He was the best looking guy in the class, and the girl I was shelving books with noticed him too. He did a double take when he saw me, and said "Susan?". Then some desultory conversation, and somewhere in there, "you got beautiful. You are stunning. When do you get off work, can I buy you a drink?"

I cannot recall enjoying a drink so much, even if I only had a sip or two of beer. He was genuinely happy to see how much I had changed, and what a confident woman I had become. I told him I was making ends meet with my job, I was working an extra job to put more money in my portfolio and I wanted a vacation, and the real job didn't give me the extra money to pay for that. Then came the bombshell.

"We never wanted to hurt you from 10th grade on. We were told to, if we wanted to be the cool clique, and not get harassed ourselves. He had the whole class scared of him, Susan. We all danced to his tune, and he wanted to hurt you so badly you would either suicide or transfer out".

Transfer out? Like that would happen. I was like the poor kid in the rich kids school, my folks didn't have the money to transfer me to a private school when I begged them to do so.

As for suicide, something kept me from doing that. Maybe it was like I knew, if I could just get through this my life would change and I would and could be successful and happy.

I looked at him, still handsome after 15 or so years out of high school, not a gray hair or a wrinkle on his face. And mustered up the words, "Why me?"

"you never knew? After all this time you never knew?", he almost laughed but stopped himself. Instead he went up to the bar and came back with another pint.

"He hated you because he was jealous of you. See, his father was abusive to him as a child. And his father thought-" another sip of beer "that you, the smarted kid in the class, the only Jewish kid in the class- well he should be more like you, so he told his son that. And because his dad praised you, he decided to destroy you. Any way possible. He set you up to fail, turned the teachers against you-

I blinked. He continued- "Teachers were as afraid of him as we were. So they set you up too, by looking the other way". We all saw you cry for help, but we ignored it.

I looked at him " So did Kitty Genovese when she was being murdered, you know. Cry for help and no one came'.

He looked down on at his shoes. "We did that Susan, and I am sorry. We all are. All of us but him, we are still scared of him, you know that. You escaped, you lived, and you look fantastic. You've really turned out to be a great gal, and i am really enjoying talking to you". He took my hand. "I;m just sorry I am moving to the midwest, in a week, I would ask you out for dinner. You deserve more than just a beer and bar peanuts".

I smiled back. Like I said, it was the best beer I ever had. He walked me to my craptastic Datsun, and that was the last time I ever saw anyone from my high school class.

Which brings me to this morning. I woke up, the sun in my eyes, and I could hear the faint trill of the birds outside my window, where I have a feeder set up for the cat's viewing pleasure. Kitty was on the bed, asleep by my feet. And the dream I had, had me in a cold sweat, my heart racing, and the decay of rot in my mouth.

I had a business. I was running a business, and it was very successful. Only, one of my investors was my nemesis. But I didn't know that. i was changing for some kind of formal business dinner I had to attend, and when I came out of the bathroom, I needed the zipper on my back zipped. it was a dark green satin dress, long, with matching shoes and clutch bag. I had a string of pearls that belonged to my mother on, and my hair was long and blonde, and down to my waist. I looked like the standard over 35 year old Trophy Wife.

i could not see the face of the guy who was zipping my dress, just the hands at first. I never saw the face but heard the voice. it curdled my blood. it was that of my nemesis. We had gone into business together, I made a lot of money for him, and now, he was zipping my dress up, in a simple act, but yet reeked of familiarity and closeness.

Yes, he had haunted my dreams most of my life. But this one, when I woke up, left me perplexed. I gingerly got out of bed, as not to disturb the cat's slumber, and washed my face. The cold water felt good. Then it hit me. I no longer hated him. I am letting him go. All the hatred i have been feeling all these years.... gone.

And the words from a book I haven't read since 10th grade came to my head.

"Tis a far, far better thing that I do, that I have ever done".....

I am free. I've just exorcised my last demon.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Oh my aching back!


I have 3 disintegrated discs in my back. Usually they cause me minimal pain, mostly from being, as my grandmother would have said 'well endowed'.

This morning I woke up and can barely move from the pain. So I am going back to bed, on the heating pad, and some Tylenol.

Hopefully it will clear up shortly.

Send good thoughts for Liz Spikol

Last night Liz Spikol sent out a curious email, saying that her email address at Philadelphia Weekly was no longer working and gave out a new, generic address.

This morning, Philip Dawdy, at Furious Seasons, is reporting that

"I suspect readers of The Trouble With Spikol are just now realizing that Liz Spikol is no longer at Philadelphia Weekly and that her well-read blog is now pretty much shuttered, since it's technically owned by the paper. She told me by email last night that she's feeling rather glum, but intends to get back to blogging...just not right away. So stay tuned."

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Abolish Electroshock

This is normally not a political blog- but the one thing i am outspoken on is Electroshock Therapy, or ECT. In a nutshell, it did a big number on me, and based on my experiences, and what i know now about it, i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.


Mary Maddock, of Mind Freedom International, has a petition to abolish electroshock. The petition is here. If this is something you believe in, please sign.

A piece I wrote earlier on ECT is here.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

World Cat Day!


Today is World Cat Day!

Love your kitties, spoil them rotten, and just feel blessed that such creatures exist.

Holly will have some special tuna to celebrate along with her dry, and a new catnip mousie to destroy.

We wish all our feline friends a happy day, and those friends who don't have felines, to think about going to the shelter for one.

H/T =Cat Blogosphere

Thursday, August 6, 2009

It's a baby!

I do have a thing for pandas. 20 second clip below. Mommy and baby seem to be doing fine. Just a nice, feel good story.

Ever had one of these days?


The important thing is to deep breathe, relax, try to meditate. Try counting to 100. It it's too big a number, count to ten. Then do it backwards if you can. Feel every muscle in your body, and think of names for it. Same with the bones. It doesn't matter what their real names are, make them up. If it's night, and you can see the stars, make up names for each of the stars. Name a star after yourself, your family, your pets, even the hot movie star you idolize.

Try to be around people. If it's 2 am like it is here, and there are no people around, none to call, turn on the radio and loose yourself in that.

If things get bad dial 911, or what ever the emergency code is for your country.

Don't look for a rope, or a knife, a gun, it won't solve anything , and the feeling is temporary.


Or write a little blog post like I am doing now, while I fight the same suicidal feelings and thoughts.

It's only temporary. IT'S ONLY TEMPORARY.

And as Scarlett O'Hara said "Tomorrow is another day".

Monday, August 3, 2009

Red Tape in Healthcare

Slightly over a year ago, i had pneumonia. I was in the hospital for 10 days, admitted with 105 fever and slightly delirious.

The hospital bill was huge. I paid a quite substantial deductible, and thought it was over, and me poorer.

Now here is the rub. The doctor who treated me, never submitted his bill to the insurance company. They would have paid the entire thing, minus a deductible of somewhere between 100-500 dollars. But because he is late- a year late, the insurance company will not pay for it- and I had to appeal to the hospital.


Went to the bank, got my financial statements, my last two years income tax statements.

The good news is, the hospital will work with me over the next two years to pay off the bill. The bad news is, it's a lot of money.

Driving home I heard a man on the radio stating Americans would be better to have the health care system of the UK or Canada, but I don't know.

But I am definitely catching up on what President Obama is doing about health care.

Maybe this little guy can be my doctor?

Taking a day off

Got some very bad news- well- no one died- so it's not bad bad, but it's about a hospital bill i paid, and well, s**t happens. And then something else. Which makes me want to primal scream and then make love to some Hagen Daz.


So i am taking the day off, to go to the bank, to try to find a check that was paid a year ago- and just......


oh well. Enjoy the picture. it seems to embody how I feel today.


fail owned pwned pictures
see more Fail Blog

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Getting To Know You

getting to know you.. I got tagged by my friend M- for this, and thought it might be fun to do on a Saturday Night.

1. What time did you get up this morning? 6 am this morning. A bit too early than normal.

2. How do you like your steak? Medium to medium well.

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Bruno

4. What is your favorite TV show? First run or repeats? Now that it's summer i am hooked on Hell's Kitchen, but my all time favorite TV show of all time would be Red Dwarf, or Sponge bob or Law and Order.

5. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? The best times in my life I ever had were in England.

6. What did you have for breakfast? Cheerios and milk.

7. What is your favorite cuisine? Italian and ice cream.

8. What foods do you dislike? Brussel sprouts.

9. Favorite Place to Eat? Table

10. Favorite dressing? French or Raspberry vignarette

11.What kind of vehicle do you drive? 2007 Honda Civic, 4 door.

12. What are your favorite clothes? Things from the LL Bean Catalog

13. Where would you visit if you had the chance? Want to see the Pyramids in South America and Mexico.

14. Cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full? it depends on the moment

15. Where do you want to retire? Don't care as long as I get all four seasons.

16. Favorite time of day? evening

17. Where were you born? NYC, NY

18. What is your favorite sport to watch? Baseball

19. Who do you think will not tag you back? i cannot think of one person reading this who will.

20. Person you expect to tag you back first? don't know

21. Who are you most curious about their responses to this? Bitter and RPJ.

22. Bird watcher? Absolutely!

23. Are you a morning person or a night person? Night

24. Do you have any pets? I lived with the striped one, aka cat

25. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share? nope

26. What did you want to be when you were little? I wanted to be a mommy of course, an astronomer, a writer,

27. What is your best childhood memory? One Christmas morning, my dad had stayed up the night before to put together a bike for both my sister and me, as well as a Barbie Dream House, with brand new Barbies and Kens in it.

28. Are you a cat or dog person? Cat

29. Are you married? No. .

30. Always wear your seat belt? Yes, always

31. Been in a car accident? Yes, but none of them was my fault! I am being serious! i was holding the steering wheel one time so hard , when I got rear ended i broke my hand.

32. Any pet peeves? Bad drivers.

33. Favorite Pizza Toppings? Sausage, and Hawaiian.

34. Favorite Flower?Daffodils, and white roses.

35. Favorite ice cream? Coffee

36. Favorite fast food restaurant? Burger King

37. How many times did you fail your driver's test? Zero

38. From whom did you get your last email? Wendy

39. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Probably Barnes and Noble, or the Apple Store.

40. Do anything spontaneous lately? I danced around the apartment the other night in my birthday suit, listening to a CD of Sinatra my mother lent me.

41. Like your job? I loved my job. I wish I was well enough to go back there.

42. Broccoli? Love it raw, hate it cooked. Go figure.

43. What was your favorite vacation? Toss up between London or York.

44. Last person you went out to dinner with? Mom and Dad.

45. What are you listening to right now? A book on tape.

46. What is your favorite color? Yellow, oranges, pinks, blues.

47. How many tattoos do you have? None.

48. How many are you tagging for this quiz? No one.

49. What time did you finish this quiz? 7:06

50. Coffee Drinker? yes, but drink ice tea by the gallon

Headache back, plus book rejected

I woke up this morning about six am. The cat was crying for her nom-nom's. I fed her, watered her, cleaned out her box. I scritched her behind her ears, rubbed her backbone down to the tail, and gave her a kiss on top of her head. Then i took some ice tea out of the fridge and took my morning medicine. 600 mg of lithium, and 60 mg of Cymbalta. I took the glass of ice tea over to the computer, read a few emails, replied, and read a blog which made me cry, and responded to that. By that time, the meds were kicking in. My head was pounding, and I could barely make it to the bathroom in time to vomit all the tea I had just drank.

i went back to bed, put a cold compress over my forehead and eyes, put the radio on softly, and fell asleep. A couple hours later I hear the doorbell ring. it's about 9: 30. Big Fed-EX truck by my door. I open up door a crack, I am still in my lavender nightgown, and sign for a package. My heart sinks. I know what it is.

It's my two manuscripts I sent to the boyfriend/fiance of a relative who works for a major magazine. i wanted to get an honest opinion. Are they sell=able.

The note was kind, considering the circumstances. The first book, about a bipolar woman, was good and almost publishable, but people aren't interested in reading that type of book right now, with the book market in shambles.

The other one on Jack The Ripper was excellent, but very dark, and extremely graphic. You might want to lighten it up. (I m sorry, but the murder of Mary Kelly is GROSS).


Ok. Try again. Or maybe, i can re write the first book, the bipolar one, and make her a Vampire. Hell, all the Twilight fans would buy it!


For a blue Saturday, i leave you with a funny picture my Godmother emailed me yesterday. Enjoy!


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