It is an experience unlike any other.
The day begins with the promise of what can be accomplished and the feelings of how good it will be to check off the various items on the eternal "to do" list.
Then, someone or something changes the innocent optimism into a feeling of despair and loneliness without equal.
It's worse than a punch in the gut because it is a nagging sorrowful feeling that blossoms into emotional upheaval at the drop of a hat. Just when you think you are over the spasm of contorted and twisted personal agenda, it strikes again.
My life plans generally revolve around the schedules and needs of other people, both those inside my home and those outside who press upon me with needs and desires that fill the space on my calendars. Driven as I am to be somewhat of a people pleaser in my older years, based most certainly on my careless disregard for the feelings of others in my youth, I don't want to tell anyone "NO" if I can keep it from happening.
But sometimes, I want to do something for me that will strengthen my feeble knees and lift up my hands that hang down.
And I get told "NO" because it isn't important enough to make the agenda of anyone else.
Trying to be adult about the circumstances, I rationalize my melancholic moods affect me and my well-being far more than anyone else I'm trying to 'touch' with my emotional hammer.
Is it wrong to want some time?
And speaking of time, I need to go and do. Sitting here isn't helping me feel better. Contrarily, it's actually making it all worse.
June 4, 2010
May 28, 2010
The Shoe on the Other Foot
I realize that our society as a whole has come to believe that anything uncomfortable that happens to a member of a different political party is somehow funny and just and deserved.
That is a lie.
The current furor over a man named Joe McGinnis, who has moved in next door to Sarah Palin for the sole purpose of writing a 'tell-all' book about her private life, isn't funny to me at all.
The people on the news talked this morning about how "this has an SNL skit written all over it" (Robin Roberts of ABC news) and how it was stupid/funny that the Palin family has chosen to erect a tall barrier fence. They extolled the rights of Mr. McGinnis and how 'he's done nothing wrong' in moving next door to someone he has already vilified in written material.
It is clear to me that he has NO respect for Sarah Palin or her family and their right and NEED for privacy.
Wasilla, Alaska isn't exactly a hub of thrilling activity and night life, so the only reason to go there and rent a house next to the Palin's is to spy on them and sell his book of half-truths as if it was the whole truth wrapped up with roses.
Now, lest the holier-than-thou crowd start getting all "wee-wee'd up" about this (to borrow a phrase from our current President), how would you like to have an antagonist move NEXT DOOR TO YOU and pen the day-to-day happenings of YOUR life for the world's consumption??
Before you become smug and say, "oh, that would never happen to me" OR "my life is an open book", do you really want your neighbors, your parents, your siblings, your pastor or your peer group to have every detail of your life?
No one is that comfortable with scrutiny in that detail. And no one can long survive it emotionally. We all have our secrets.
We squirm when we have to talk about the private moments and thoughts of our lives, worried that our words will be misconstrued, our thoughts taken out of context and made shameful or ridiculous and that our private feelings and emotions will be turned into a laughingstock for the amusement of someone else.
Before anything in the political arena ever starts, we are, ALL OF US, private citizens FIRST.
The right of privacy has been eroded so deeply as to have been replaced by a deep and cavernous abyss called "the right to know".
I don't think that is a true or correct principle endowed by the Constitution. The only people who seem to believe in endowed power on this idea are those who can financially or positionally gain from the exposure of another.
Consider it for what it really is... a personal and ongoing life audit that makes an IRS audit look like a picnic.
Perhaps Wasilla has a nice home right next to Joe that I can rent. I know how to type, blog and spread innuendo and I just wonder if the world would enjoy a tell-all on the "teller"?
What kind of beer does he drink, or is his preference hard liquor or none at all? Or is he a Nancy-boy who gets ill from drinking a Shirley Temple?
Does Joe wear boxers, briefs or ladies panties when no one is around him in the locker room at the local club? Maybe he doesn't wear any undies at all... certainly that is newsworthy. Does Joe chafe? Does he need powder or ointment? Or is that a rash from something else entirely?
In his special moments at home, does Joe have 'companionship' and if so, did he have to pay for it? Or does Joe fly solo? And if he does have 'companionship', which sex does Joe swing with? Or does he swing at all?
How about that Internet connection in Alaska? It wasn't too private that it couldn't be hacked for getting to the Palin's email, so how about it Joe? Can't we get a squint at those "private" emails? You know the ones... where you tell your mother that you still wet the bed sometimes but only if you can't find your teddy bear?
Does Joe pay his bills on time? Who does he pay them to and how much are they? Does he owe alimony or child support and what kind of magazines does Joe subscribe to? That trashcan at the curb is fair game, you know. Once it is out there... it is public property. That's what the paparazzi say about others, so it MUST be true! The trashcan's contents can be sifted to discover a veritable gold mine of personal information that I'm sure Joe is comfortable sharing with the world. Does he eat take out a lot? Or can Joe cook? Is he a sloppy joe man, or pasta and steamed veggies?
He wants to share the Palin's personal life in this way.
He wants to make us all believe that somehow our own lives are narrow and unfocused and that by sifting through the minutia of someone else's life that we will be "enriched" or "enlightened".
Neither are true.
If Joe wasn't being paid to do this, he'd find something else to do. Pure and simple. Joe isn't motivated by the righteous right to know. He is motivated solely by his greed for the almighty dollar.
Just think about this seriously.
Do you want someone like Joe to be YOUR neighbor and write his half-truths and innuendo about YOUR LIFE and make money on it - none of which YOU will ever get to spend because you won't get a cut of it even though it is your life that has been dissected for public consumption.
No one has the express right to abuse people this way.
The press calls this freedom. I call this facism.
To be truly free also means that you know, understand and practice a little used commodity - good, old-fashioned RESTRAINT. Even though you CAN do something... there are times that decency means that you SHOULDN'T do it.
Move out, Joe.
For one time in your life, be willing to rise above the scum in the crude world of sensationalist media and decide to be decent enough to realize that there are other ways to make a living without resorting to tabloid media.
Now, a word to the rest of us.
If we don't BUY the tabloid trash in either weekly paper, magazine or book format -- THEY WILL GO AWAY.
Only what sells stays on the rack.
Remember, you very well can be the next target.
Don't laugh. It can happen. Big brother and his minions are watching... all it takes is one unguarded moment or stupid choice to put you on the front page. We are all guilty of something.
Ask yourself a simple question - would I want my worst moment to be front page news?
That is a lie.
The current furor over a man named Joe McGinnis, who has moved in next door to Sarah Palin for the sole purpose of writing a 'tell-all' book about her private life, isn't funny to me at all.
The people on the news talked this morning about how "this has an SNL skit written all over it" (Robin Roberts of ABC news) and how it was stupid/funny that the Palin family has chosen to erect a tall barrier fence. They extolled the rights of Mr. McGinnis and how 'he's done nothing wrong' in moving next door to someone he has already vilified in written material.
It is clear to me that he has NO respect for Sarah Palin or her family and their right and NEED for privacy.
Wasilla, Alaska isn't exactly a hub of thrilling activity and night life, so the only reason to go there and rent a house next to the Palin's is to spy on them and sell his book of half-truths as if it was the whole truth wrapped up with roses.
Now, lest the holier-than-thou crowd start getting all "wee-wee'd up" about this (to borrow a phrase from our current President), how would you like to have an antagonist move NEXT DOOR TO YOU and pen the day-to-day happenings of YOUR life for the world's consumption??
Before you become smug and say, "oh, that would never happen to me" OR "my life is an open book", do you really want your neighbors, your parents, your siblings, your pastor or your peer group to have every detail of your life?
No one is that comfortable with scrutiny in that detail. And no one can long survive it emotionally. We all have our secrets.
We squirm when we have to talk about the private moments and thoughts of our lives, worried that our words will be misconstrued, our thoughts taken out of context and made shameful or ridiculous and that our private feelings and emotions will be turned into a laughingstock for the amusement of someone else.
Before anything in the political arena ever starts, we are, ALL OF US, private citizens FIRST.
The right of privacy has been eroded so deeply as to have been replaced by a deep and cavernous abyss called "the right to know".
I don't think that is a true or correct principle endowed by the Constitution. The only people who seem to believe in endowed power on this idea are those who can financially or positionally gain from the exposure of another.
Consider it for what it really is... a personal and ongoing life audit that makes an IRS audit look like a picnic.
Perhaps Wasilla has a nice home right next to Joe that I can rent. I know how to type, blog and spread innuendo and I just wonder if the world would enjoy a tell-all on the "teller"?
What kind of beer does he drink, or is his preference hard liquor or none at all? Or is he a Nancy-boy who gets ill from drinking a Shirley Temple?
Does Joe wear boxers, briefs or ladies panties when no one is around him in the locker room at the local club? Maybe he doesn't wear any undies at all... certainly that is newsworthy. Does Joe chafe? Does he need powder or ointment? Or is that a rash from something else entirely?
In his special moments at home, does Joe have 'companionship' and if so, did he have to pay for it? Or does Joe fly solo? And if he does have 'companionship', which sex does Joe swing with? Or does he swing at all?
How about that Internet connection in Alaska? It wasn't too private that it couldn't be hacked for getting to the Palin's email, so how about it Joe? Can't we get a squint at those "private" emails? You know the ones... where you tell your mother that you still wet the bed sometimes but only if you can't find your teddy bear?
Does Joe pay his bills on time? Who does he pay them to and how much are they? Does he owe alimony or child support and what kind of magazines does Joe subscribe to? That trashcan at the curb is fair game, you know. Once it is out there... it is public property. That's what the paparazzi say about others, so it MUST be true! The trashcan's contents can be sifted to discover a veritable gold mine of personal information that I'm sure Joe is comfortable sharing with the world. Does he eat take out a lot? Or can Joe cook? Is he a sloppy joe man, or pasta and steamed veggies?
He wants to share the Palin's personal life in this way.
He wants to make us all believe that somehow our own lives are narrow and unfocused and that by sifting through the minutia of someone else's life that we will be "enriched" or "enlightened".
Neither are true.
If Joe wasn't being paid to do this, he'd find something else to do. Pure and simple. Joe isn't motivated by the righteous right to know. He is motivated solely by his greed for the almighty dollar.
Just think about this seriously.
Do you want someone like Joe to be YOUR neighbor and write his half-truths and innuendo about YOUR LIFE and make money on it - none of which YOU will ever get to spend because you won't get a cut of it even though it is your life that has been dissected for public consumption.
No one has the express right to abuse people this way.
The press calls this freedom. I call this facism.
To be truly free also means that you know, understand and practice a little used commodity - good, old-fashioned RESTRAINT. Even though you CAN do something... there are times that decency means that you SHOULDN'T do it.
Move out, Joe.
For one time in your life, be willing to rise above the scum in the crude world of sensationalist media and decide to be decent enough to realize that there are other ways to make a living without resorting to tabloid media.
Now, a word to the rest of us.
If we don't BUY the tabloid trash in either weekly paper, magazine or book format -- THEY WILL GO AWAY.
Only what sells stays on the rack.
Remember, you very well can be the next target.
Don't laugh. It can happen. Big brother and his minions are watching... all it takes is one unguarded moment or stupid choice to put you on the front page. We are all guilty of something.
Ask yourself a simple question - would I want my worst moment to be front page news?
May 26, 2010
Whaddayagit?
Q: What do you get when you cross LASIK eye surgery with a Brazilian butt lift?
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A: 20-20 Hindsight.
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A: 20-20 Hindsight.
May 20, 2010
Jobs Online
Technology has changed the way people look for work. It was made abundantly clear to me that is the case today as Thomas was able to complete several applications online without ever once seeing a living, breathing, blood-flowing-through-some-veins person.
In the interest of job seekers, I'm sure their pajama and bathrobe clad selves also appreciate the updated technology improvements since that pesky 6 am shower routine is no longer needed and they don't have to change out of their Mr. Bun-Bun t-shirt or matching slippers in any hurry. It also removes the unpleasant face-to-face aspect until the online apps are sifted for quality before any potential telephone calls are made to applicant wanna be's.
They need not know what you actually look like until you show up at their door for an actually pre-scheduled interview, potentially bathed, groomed and dressed in something besides your favorite M&M pajama pants with the hole in the butt.
But then again, online applications can bring up a host of other issues. As Thomas was applying today, one of the positions was a slot as a delivery driver, he needed his wallet for some further information. He asked me to go get it for him.
Yeah, Ace. I'll just do that.
Oh, wait... my foot and ankle are in an air-cast and my crutches are across the room from me since I'm sitting in a rolling office chair.
I'll just roll along and get it... but soft - a complication rears its ugly head... the chair WON'T ROLL ON CARPET.
A maniacally evil laugh began. "Oh yes it will, muuuahahahahahahahahaha!"
Then, Mephistopheles - also known as my son, said kindly, "You can fish for it!"
"With what?" I asked him. "My crutches and the elastic from my underwear? Shall I yank out a filling, pound and hammer it down to form a hook also?"
At this point he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and decided to get up and go get his wallet for himself.
The visual of me trying to angle in a homemade contraption to retrieve the wallet from his desk still lurks at the corner of my mind. I now wonder if it would be possible to do it, minus the underwear elastic fishing line and dental filling hook...
Does this mean I need to get out more... or less?
Will the kindly people who collect those unfortunate souls who carry on private conversations with themselves come and find me next?
I'm afraid if they men in the little white coats came, I'd go with them without hesitation. They'd probably be sorry they'd picked me up in 15-minutes or less. Perhaps they'd return me to my home at that point.
Should you happen to be out by the river and see me fishing, please make sure that I have an actual fishing rod, Stren fishing line on said rod, and most important of all - please insure that I am not trying to reel in a wallet.
Just another day in paradise...
In the interest of job seekers, I'm sure their pajama and bathrobe clad selves also appreciate the updated technology improvements since that pesky 6 am shower routine is no longer needed and they don't have to change out of their Mr. Bun-Bun t-shirt or matching slippers in any hurry. It also removes the unpleasant face-to-face aspect until the online apps are sifted for quality before any potential telephone calls are made to applicant wanna be's.
They need not know what you actually look like until you show up at their door for an actually pre-scheduled interview, potentially bathed, groomed and dressed in something besides your favorite M&M pajama pants with the hole in the butt.
But then again, online applications can bring up a host of other issues. As Thomas was applying today, one of the positions was a slot as a delivery driver, he needed his wallet for some further information. He asked me to go get it for him.
Yeah, Ace. I'll just do that.
Oh, wait... my foot and ankle are in an air-cast and my crutches are across the room from me since I'm sitting in a rolling office chair.
I'll just roll along and get it... but soft - a complication rears its ugly head... the chair WON'T ROLL ON CARPET.
A maniacally evil laugh began. "Oh yes it will, muuuahahahahahahahahaha!"
Then, Mephistopheles - also known as my son, said kindly, "You can fish for it!"
"With what?" I asked him. "My crutches and the elastic from my underwear? Shall I yank out a filling, pound and hammer it down to form a hook also?"
At this point he was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe and decided to get up and go get his wallet for himself.
The visual of me trying to angle in a homemade contraption to retrieve the wallet from his desk still lurks at the corner of my mind. I now wonder if it would be possible to do it, minus the underwear elastic fishing line and dental filling hook...
Does this mean I need to get out more... or less?
Will the kindly people who collect those unfortunate souls who carry on private conversations with themselves come and find me next?
I'm afraid if they men in the little white coats came, I'd go with them without hesitation. They'd probably be sorry they'd picked me up in 15-minutes or less. Perhaps they'd return me to my home at that point.
Should you happen to be out by the river and see me fishing, please make sure that I have an actual fishing rod, Stren fishing line on said rod, and most important of all - please insure that I am not trying to reel in a wallet.
Just another day in paradise...
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