Evil Speculators

Democrats blame “evil” speculators for the high price of oil. Speculators figure that, with liberal Democrats in firm control of Congress and a left-wing Democrat leading in the polls for president, the ban on drilling for oil on our coasts and in the Arctic will continue indefinitely - and oil prices will keep going up.

I’ve been speculating on the price of oil too. Does that make me a bad person? I sent a check to B&L Oil of Fryeburg to assure that I would pay no more than $4.85 per gallon for heating oil through next winter. I left my foot in the door a bit though. If the price should go down, I’ll pay market price. (Maybe Democrats will be forced to lift the ban? Heck, you never know) I could have paid up front for all 750 gallons - the amount I burned last year - at $4.60 per gallon. I have the money, but I chose what I chose because I still have the liberty to do so.

Some people are avoiding oil and laying in a lot of firewood. I have a couple of cords left out in the yard, but I’d prefer to burn oil. Some people are converting to wood pellets. Others are buying coal. Some will burn used motor oil, or even old vegetable oil from restaurant fryolaters. We’re all speculating. We’re exercising the liberty to make our own choices and live with the results. If we choose right, we’ll be happy. If we choose wrong, too bad for us. That’s how liberty works. As Benjamin Franklin put it: "The U.S. Constitution doesn't guarantee happiness, only the pursuit of it. You have to catch up with it yourself."

Lots of people have been speculating in real estate over the past ten or fifteen years. Some made a lot of money at it, causing many others to jump in. They took out mortgages for more than they could afford to pay back. They took risks, and that’s what speculation is. They figured they would make interest-only payments while the value of their new real estate climbed. Then they would flip it - sell at profit. It worked for a while and many got rich. Were they bad people? Some think so because their speculation helped drive home prices up. People who already owned real estate, however, thought that was wonderful. People who were renting and wanted to buy a home didn’t think it was so great. Oh well.

Somewhere along the way, liberal Democrats noticed that banks avoided granting mortgages to people in certain neighborhoods. They called it “Redlining” and accused loan officers of racism. Banks pointed out that it was bad business lending to individuals who were unable to make their payments. If minorities happened to comprise a higher percentage of such people, or if certain neighborhoods had lots of them, that was not evidence of racism. Mortgage decisions were based on numbers, not colors. As economist Thomas Sowell pointed out in a recent column: “In our own personal lives, common sense leads us to avoid some neighborhoods. If you want to call that "redlining," so be it. But places where it is dangerous to go are often also places where it is dangerous to send your money.” Liberal Democrats in Congress, however, passed legislation forcing banks to make risky loans to certain people, and in certain places, where they never would have otherwise.

Eventually, real estate prices stopped rising. Many who speculated couldn’t make their payments and defaulted. Then prices fell and more defaulted. Then prices fell still further. Banks who lent money to a lot of risky speculators went belly up. No one knows when it will all bottom out because, as Benjamin Franklin pointed out a long time ago, there are no guarantees. Liberal Democrats in Congress, however, don’t believe that. They passed a $300 billion bill to bail out nearly half a million speculators. They want Americans who made the right choices to bail out those who chose wrong. We who are making our payments now have to help speculators make theirs too.

I don’t like that. I don’t like it one bit. I don’t want to take away from speculators the liberty to fall on their faces. They should have the freedom to fail because, as British farmer Thomas Tusser said half a millennium ago: “A fool and his money are soon parted.”

The question now is, are we fools too? Does the Democrat-controlled Congress take us for fools? It appears that way. What’s even worse? Our “Republican” president - the guy who put the “Dub” in Dubya - is going to sign the bill.

And here’s another question. Why are people who speculate on oil prices “evil” to be punished by excess-profits taxes, but those who speculate on real estate prices are “innocent victims” to be protected by taxpayer-funded bailouts?

Here is an all purpose excuse form, designed to get you out of the trouble you've gotten yourself into.
Where there's a multiple choice, pick the one that works best for your situation and just go with it. You'll be surprised how effective this form can be if you just let your instincts guide you!
Dear
a) Mom,
b) Dad,
c) love of my life,
d) Assistant Principal,
e) Local Police Chief,
Words cannot begin to express how sorry I am that your
a) car
b) house
c) pet
d) espresso maker
e) left arm
was severely damaged by my
a) infantile
b) puerile
c) inept
d) comically brilliant but nonetheless sadistic
e) woefully under appreciated prank.
How could I have known that the
a) car
b) jet ski
c) large helium balloon
d) rodent driven sledge
e) Zamboni
I was riding in would go so far out of control? And while it is true that I should not have pointed it in the direction of your
a) house,
b) wife,
c) Cub Scout troop,
d) 1/16th sized replica of the Statue of Liberty, complete with light bulb in the torch,
e) priceless collection of antique knitting needles,
you must understand that it was all meant in fun. The subsequent carnage that I caused is beyond my ability to
a) imagine,
b) fathom,
c) comprehend,
d) appreciate,
e) pay for,
and I must therefore humbly ask your forgiveness. I know that you are perfectly within your rights to
a) hate me,
b) sue me,
c) spank me,
d) take my firstborn,
e) gouge out my eyes with spoons and feed them to the fish in your koi pond,
but I ask you to remember all the good times we've had, joshing around at
a) school
b) work
c) church
d) the bowling alley
e) the municipal jail and to remember that I am first and foremost your
a) friend
b) child
c) sibling
d) lease co-signer
e) only possible match should you ever need a bone marrow transplant.
I think that counts for more than one prank, especially one that
a) was so stupid.
b) was so silly.
c) would have been funny if it worked.
d) you would have done, if you had thought of it first.
e) I'm going to use again on someone else.

Sincerely, Enter name here (or alias): ________________________

The Unveiling of the Secret Plan

So in the past few posts, I have hinted at a “ plan “ I have. Before you get too excited, this plan does not involve high-flying travel, millions of dollars, or joining the CIA. Rather, it is a plan for getting myself the hell out of here – out of DubVegas, out of my rut and out of the doldrums.

Yes, that’s right, I have finally got my act together and decided to move away from Dubbo. I know that there is one of you in particular who may be reading this that suggested a move away from my hometown a long time ago, and now I’m trying to put that into motion. After the last few months of frustration and disgruntlement in my job, and going back into counseling with a psychologist and general “ my life is a big pile of poo “-ness, I sat back and hard a good hard look at who I am and where I’m headed, and I decided the future wasn’t looking all that bright. I’d always said, from the time I was in my early teens, that I didn’t want to live here forever, but I’ve just never been able to determine the right time to go. So, in sitting back and taking this objective look at my life as it is, I thought “ If not now, when ? Who says this isn’t the right time ? It could be the wrong time, but if I don’t make that leap, how will I ever know ? “

So that’s what I’m doing. I’m leaping. Not without looking mind you, I don’t want to break my leg or anything.

I’m making said leap – to Sydney. I’m not expecting anything to happen too immediately, but I’m hoping to be able to make a start down there by the end of the year. I’ve started applying for jobs down there, mostly around the western suburbs and inner west, and have started keeping an eye on rental properties and prices. I’ve checked out train routes and surfed Google Maps to see how far certain suburbs are from one another. I’ve spoken to P and to one of my uncles about keeping an eye out for work opportunities, and also about crashing at their places if I got a job but couldn’t find a place to live right away. To tell the truth, I’m kind of excited.

And you know what ? I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like now that I finally have a semi-clear idea of what I want and how to get it, its like a veil has been lifted and I can see so much better now. Far from being anxious or nervous at what might be coming, the prospect of living a new challenge has me brimming with confidence. I’ve been cheerier, more contented, the past few weeks than I have been for a long, long time. There have been a few decisions that I’ve had to make that have seen momentary downturns in mood, but for the most part its been smooth and happy sailing.

The only decision that’s had me a little “ flip-floppy “ thus far has been this – I’ve decided to move back in with my parental units. Yes, I’m returning to the nest that only a couple of years ago I was all too eager to flee. The move home was actually my dads suggestion – shock!horror! – but it makes perfect sense. See, my sister has lost her fulltime job and cant afford to live out of home with me anymore, and in her leaving I would be back to paying all the rent and all the bills myself. My Dad rightly pointed out how would I save any money for an impending move if I was spending it all on the cost of living on my lonesome? So the idea was put to me that I move back into the family abode, back into my old room, put all my furniture in storage, and save the money I would be paying to a landlord. I agree, that IS a good idea ( why else would I agree to it ? ) but it did pose a few immediate issues. When was I ever going to get some “ alone time “ ? How was I going to be able to walk around in my underwear and get dressed in front of the heater in the morning ? And forget any intimacy with RNG ( who I haven’t mentioned in a while…. ) – that shan’t be happening under my parents roof! But I guess those are the sacrifices I’m going to have to make in an effort to find a life, and myself. On the upside I’ll almost always have someone to hang out with; I’ll only have to cook one night a week and I wont have to pay for groceries anymore.

So there you be, ladies and gentlepersons – the unveiling of my secret plan. Everybody wish me luck and if any of you have any tips or tricks or ideas that you want to pass on, please do.
Viva la vida, people, viva la vida!

My Weekend, A Story In 3 Parts: Part 3 - Where I Have To Go Home

Yes, I realize that I’ve dragged this story out a little bit – the weekend in question was two weekends ago, but I figured if I’ve labeled it a story in 3 parts, I best finish the third part. In truth the third part is the most boring, but its also the shortest. It’s the bit where I have to pack up my crap, say farewell to P, and head back home to DubVegas.

Like I said, we both loved Cirque Du Soliel’s “ Dralion “ and I loved being able to share it with P, because she hasn’t seen anything like it before. We had planned on having dinner in the Entertainment Quarter before we headed back to the mountains, but we kind of stuffed ourselves full of popcorn during the show and weren’t really hungry anymore. So, rather than hang out for a nice little dinner in the “ city “ we just headed straight home. This wasn’t exactly a bad thing – it gave us the opportunity for more chat without having to hear each other over the din of other diners, plus we made it home in time to catch the majority of the Australia vs Springboks rugby test match . Which, for any Saffa’s reading this, we won.

And that’s about it. Sunday morning, P hosted a Tupperware party. For any women who’ve ever been to one we all know they aren’t the most exciting of events, but I bought this neat little chopper machine – no more tears when cutting onions! Will chop any firm vegetables such as carrots or potato! And, midway through the post-Tupperware ramble, I had to make my exit. The party had started late because other than myself and her mother-in-law, none of P’s other friends know how to be punctual, so I had to say a quick goodbye to P and let her get back to her hosting duties. I would have preferred if I’d had a little more time to say “ hey, had an awesome weekend, thanks for hanging out, I miss you big lots already! “ but these things happen.

And that was it, weekend over. Except for my four and half hour drive home, during which I turned up my road tripping music and gave my best “ Australian Idol “ audition impression ever. And don’t be laughing – you know you all do it too. That’s half the fun of traveling by yourself – you can make like you’re the biggest rock star ever and there’s no-one there to laugh at you.

So, in closing, a big thanks to P for being my bestest buddy, and I’d like to thank the Australian public for voting me their Idol…..

Music is my Life

Life Is Good

“Can you scrunch together more?” the photographer would say when he can’t back up any further. The people posing rub shoulders, and sometimes feel uncomfortable if they have to put their arms around others they don’t really like, or hardly know, to fit in the camera’s frame.

“Come on, now. Smile!” I almost never feel like smiling when I’m ordered to. Someone has to say something genuinely funny or I can only fake it. If the photographer has to take more than one shot and fumbles with the camera in between, my cheek muscles cramp up. I don’t like posing for pictures and I suspect most people are that way. I do like taking pictures and always have, but I don’t like getting people to pose any more than I like posing myself. I much prefer shooting people when they’re not aware of it, when they’re not self conscious about how they look to others, when they’re being themselves. I do take posed group shots, however, because people ask me to and it’s usually my wife who is doing the asking. She knows I almost always have a camera with me and, though it’s more work for me than fun, I seldom refuse.

With my economic stimulus check I bought a new camera: a Nikon D-60 SLR and it came stock with an 18mm to 55mm zoom lens. Now all that’s required for those tight group shots is a twist of the wrist and everybody is in the picture. I’d never used a camera with a wide angle capability before and I love it. Trees are a favorite subject - old individual trees with distinctive shapes. Many are in tight locations and it’s not always possible to move backward to include the entire tree from ground to crown. Again, the wide angle capability is terrific; just a flick of the wrist and the tree can be framed perfectly.

Another great feature of the D-60 is that the shutter clicks as soon as I press the release button, just like my old analog camera. For three years I used an earlier digital camera with a two-or-three-second shutter delay and it drove me mad. If I were shooting a moving object, I’d have to anticipate where it would be seconds after I pressed the shutter release. If a human subject wore a particular expression, it usually changed two seconds hence when the camera finally recorded it.

My wife and I rented a cottage on the Maine coast last week so I had lots of time to play around. I watched terns dive into the Little River at Reid State Park and come up with sardines in their beaks. I got several nice shots of their aerobatic diving that would have been impossible to obtain with my old camera. Then a huge osprey appeared and hovered high over the waves further out. He hung in the air long enough for me to change lenses and I was able to get several images of him (her?). The auto-focus feature was problematic at times with only blue sky as background. It was difficult to keep the bird in the center of the frame and the lens wanted to go to infinity when my aim was off. The osprey’s eyesight was apparently off a bit too because, as much as I wanted him to, he never dove for his dinner while I was shooting and eventually flew back inland. Oh well. Can’t have everything.

A quote I read recently keeps reverberating in my head: “We don’t see the world as it is; we see the world as we are.” I’m happy to say that I’ve been seeing many interesting and beautiful things lately and I’m taking the time record them. Life is good. The old man who sold me the camera said there are two kinds of photographers: “those who bring their camera to photograph a particular thing, and those who always have it with them because they see something beautiful every day.”

My Weekend, A Story In 3 Parts:Part 2 - Where I Almost Make P Cry

So we enjoyed our dinner at The Mean Fiddler. Incidentally, police statistics released earlier this year showed The Mean Fiddler to be the most violent pub in the state - and my uncle, who is a police sargeant, chose to take us there. Weird. Anyways, we drove the 30 minutes back to P's place ( talking about my uncle and his girlfriend all the way there ) and guess what we found on our return ? P's hubby ( PH) and his best friend S playing Nintendo Wii. We love Wii! Needless to say the next two hours wre spent in a battle for Wii supremacy. We were playing this really nonsensical game with " rabid rabbits " - I was pretty awesome at shooting them with plungers, but not so great at punching them in time to the disco beat. Apparently, i have no ryhthm. And - suprise, suprise - P and I headed to our respective beds WAY before the boys did....

It might have been all the Nintendo played the night before, but come Saturday morning everyone woke up a little sluggish. A little blah, a little meh. I got out of bed at 8:45am and didnt drag myself off to the shower until 11am. Even then it was only because P said we were going to a birthday party at 12pm and if we didnt get a shuffle we'd be late. Who's birthday party, you ask ? A one year olds. A happy 1st birthday. And as entirely un-awesome asit may sound to attend the 1st birthday party of a child you dont know, it was nice to see P interacting with him. I know how badly she wants to be a mother and, also though she doesnt verbalise it, how much she worries about being good at it. In my humble opinion - P will make a great mum! And i'll be an awesome surrogate aunty, the one with the tattoos and crazy travel stories. By the way, it was at this party we made the pact to become " fat nannas " together. Everyone loves a fat nanna - you know, the chubby nan who bakes all the time and lets you sit on her lap for a nanna hug ? Thats going to be us. Fat Nannas.

But i digress. We newly appointed Fat Nannas of the future excused ourselves early and hit the highway. See, the main reason for my visit was that i had got tickets for P and I to see Cirque Du Soleil and it was time to make our way from the mountains to the city. Woo hoo! Now, i dont live in the city but i know how to get from the mountains to Moore Park but guess what ? It was World Youth Day ( Miss Em will feel my pain here ) and there were road closures. Bloody pilgrims! No matter - P and I are two very capable women and were able to read a map and make it there within an hour, no wrong turns or anything. Its okay, you dont have to say it - we rock.

Not only did we make it with no mishaps, we made it with plenty of time up our sleeves. Icecream and a chat solved that dilemma. We grabbed some New Zealand Natural ( mmm... macadamia flavour ) and settled in to deep and meaningful mode. Seeing as it was WYD we settled into some serious religious discussion. As i said, P is newly married, she wants to start a family and I guess she must be looking for that elsuive " something ", because she ecpressed an interest in suddenly attending church and maybe sending any future children to a Catholic school. Curious, i asked why ? P said that all the hype surrounding WYD, the entusiasm of the pilgrims for their faith, the prayers - all that had made her feel good. She thought going to church even once a month might work the same, and it would nice for her children to have God in their lives. Normally i would make some kind of joke but i could see that she was serious. She asked what i thought - i ahd to be honest with her. I told her that i love her and if she felt thats what she needed, and wanted, then i support her 100% - its just not for me. I had religion rammed down my throat when i was younger and at the age of 15 i told my mother, and my priest, that i wouldnt be going to church anymore, that i did believe in God. And i dont - i believe in good and evil, but i dont believe in God and the Devil. I believe the 10 Commandments are good guidelines ( notice i didnt say rules ...) but you should live your life well because it enriches you as a person, not because some supposed spiritual being told you to. I told her that even though it wasnt for me, i had respect that it IS for other people. My respect for others beliefs and how serious they are taken extends so far that, when asked to be my neices godmother, i said no. I told my brother and his wife although i love my neice to bits and that i would always be there for her, i could not go into a place of worship and profess to believing in God and promising to raise her in His church - just to gain some kind of title. That would make me hypocritical.

Thats when i turned back to P. I had been vaguely people-watching as i spoke and when i turned back P had tears in her eyes and this horrified look on her face. " But PH and I had alreayd picked you to be the godmother of our first child ". She looked like i had just broken her heart and her voice was breaking as she spoke. I gave her a hug - " We already picked you and now your saying you wont do it... ". I felt like a complete douche - she was nearly crying! I sat back and explained to her that of course i wanted to be her first borns godmother, it wasnt the godmothering that i was against - it was the trivialisation and manipulation of some people's sacred beliefs and hypocrisy that i was against. Those are my personal principles, a moral code, if you like, that i try and live by, even if it means not gaining something i would like. Then P totally blew me away - " Amy, you must be the strongest person i know ". Verbatim. Thats what she said. And THAT almost made me cry. After some of the shit i have had gone through, lows i've had, how weak i sometimes consider myself, for my best friend to say that i'm the strongest person she knows meant a hell of a lot. And that was it - no more tears. A deep and meaningful to remember.

And then it was show time! I wont go into details because, frankly, this post has gone long enough and i'm suprised anybody is still reading it. Suffice to say, it was awesome. I had seen two Cirque Du Soleil productions before so i knew what to expect, but i'm glad P really enjoyed it. It was nice to be able to share something i like so much within someone totally new to it.

I love sharing!

And then

See farm trucks are good for something

Reasons Why Farm Trucks Are Never Stolen*
They have a range of about 20 miles before they overheat, break down or run out of gas.
* Only the owner knows how to operate the door to get in or out.
* It is difficult to drive fast with all the fence tools, grease rags, ropes, chains, buckets, boots and loose papers in the cab.
* It takes too long to start and the smoke coming up through the rusted-out floorboard clouds your vision.
* The Border Collie on the toolbox looks mean.
* They're too easy to spot. The description might go something like this: The driver's side door is red, the passenger side door is green, the right front fender is yellow, etc.
* The large round bale in the back makes it hard to see if you're being chased. You could use the mirrors if they weren't cracked and covered with duct tape.
* Top speed is only about 45 mph.
* Who wants a truck that needs a year's worth of maintenance, u-joints, $3,000 in bodywork, taillights and a windshield.
* It's hard to commit a crime with everyone waving at you.

There is a difference

So a few weeks ago in Sunday School we finished our Mean Girls study. In this study we learned how to deal with the mean girls in our lives and learn how to not become a mean girl. At the end of the study we all signed the Mean Girls contract. There were several conditions to the contract of course and one of them was something I had never really seen a difference between before. The thing was that To be a grown up girl(that's what they kept calling us) you must be spiritual and not religious. I had never really thought there was a difference before but there is. Being religious is just going through the motions of your religion. Like just showing up at church on Sunday mornings and Wednesday nights every week, or reading 60 verses in the bible everyday because that's what it takes. But that isn't what it's all about. God wants a personal relationship with us, a one on one kind, not a OH HOLIER THAN THOU kind. Being spiritual is different. Yes God wants you to be in church and read your Bible, but not as qualifications, but because you want to. God isn't a bout the little religious rule book. He wants a relationship that isn't based on fear and duty to him, he wants one based on us wanting to serve Him, not just doing the right thing so we aren't struck by lightening. I hope this helped you. It opened my eyes to things I hadn't thought of and I hope it did for you to.

God Bless.

Talk later.

My Weekend, A Story In 3 Parts: Part 1 - Introducing P

You may have noticed I've been a little inactive over the last few days and thats because I gave myself a two days of the working week off and had a lovely " mental health break ". It was important for my sanity that I have a weekend to just go, hangout and just " be ". And who was i hanging out with ? P, my best friend.

P and I met in high school. She transferred to my school in Year 8 and she was introduced, by the principal, during my English class. You know, it was one of those, " This is P, she's new here, everyone make her feel welcome " kind of situations. As it happened ( and as i frequently like to remind her ), I tried to make her welcome and she was a gigantic, sour biatch. Yes, thats right, on our first meeting I and my other friend V invited P to hang out with us at lunch time and she just looked at us, turned her back and walked off without saying a word. She likes to blame it on being shy and nervous on her first day - I say she was just a big old snobby cow.

Nevertheless, we slowly developed a friendship and by Year 12, our final year of school, we were bestest buddies. We recited line after line of " Billy Madison " and " Dude, Where's My Car ? "; I jumped a fence to back her up during a fight when she was dressed as our school mascot; she laughed everytime i got in trouble off our English teacher ( Buttman, as we dubbed him ) and followed me when i walked out of his class during our last semester. We never went back. We spent English lessons hanging out on a picnic blanket on the grass, near enough to his classroom that he could glare at us through the window. It was the best of times ..... and i'd say the worst of times , but we've never really had any. We've been pretty solid for around nine years, except for a brief period where i thought i was being " dumped " for someone else. But mostly we've been all sweet, and i've really learnt to love and appreciate her.

P now lives four and half hours drive away from me, with her new hubby and her " fur children " ( their term, not mine ). I get along really well with her husband so its not weird going and spending the weekend with two newlyweds. And the fur chidlren.

So off i trundled on Thursday to spend some much needed relaxation time with P. We had some actual " stuff " planned but mostly it was just a chance to catch up and have the deep and meaningfuls that its not as much fun to have over the phone. Her husband cooked us dinner ( she has him well trained .... ) and we settled in for a double episode of " The Amazing Race ". Her husband faded pretty quickly and headed to bed, which left us alone to discuss important things like my recent dates, the plan i am yet to reveal to you all, trying to get pregnant ( her, not me ... ) and how we would make the most awesome-est Amazing Race team - like ever! You know, all the good and important stuff that best friends talk about. We headed to bed late, tired and thirsty from the chit chat. That made it really easy to fall asleep - i had the best nights rest i've had in a LONG time.

Friday saw us doing mundane stuff - like grocery shopping. In fairness, we did need ingredients for the Toblerone cheesecake i had volunteered to make, and P did volunteer to take me shopping for shoes - but i turned that down. I know, i'm teh biggest freak in the world turning down shoe shopping, but honestly i didnt really have the money to spend - just the time. We hang out reading magazines and jibber-jabbering all afternoon and had dinner with my uncle and his girlfriend ( who, incidentally, he proposed to the next day - she said yes! ) at The Mean Fiddler. I ordered a seafood basket with marinated octopus and put a baby one on my fork and wiggled it at her. Immature yes, but thats how we are.

Did you forget that we can recite line after line of " Billy Madison " ?

your words match your heart

Okay so tonight at church the youth had our Rec thing going and and afterwards we did our devotion. So during the devo Kendall was talking about how much of what we say can effect us. So when Kendall finished Mr. Martin started talking about how even replacement curse words are bad. I really agree with this. Because even if you don't say the real curse word but say some other word for it or just a word that isn't all that bad or sounds kind of like the curse. It's still the same. And then he asked how many of us had ever let some word just come out when we got mad, some hands raised. Then he asked again how many had thought that word when someone made us mad. Every hand was raised. It's weird in a way that even though we may not say that word but think it's just as bad. God can see your heart and knows your thoughts so even if no one else hears you or know you said that word or words, God does and that should be enough.

Another cool thing Mr. Martin said was to the guys that were there. He said "Guys, you should know that each one of these girls is going to remember every single mean or nasty thing you say to them." True oh so true. He then asked the girl how many of us remember a mean thing that one of the guys or a guy had said to us. Every girl raised their hand. Then he asked the guys how many of them remembered the mean things they had said to girls. No hands raised to that one just the whole deer in the headlights look. That is so true. I remember things that guys I know have said to me that really hurt me but they probably didn't know at the time that hurt me. And so many times girls don't realize it either. I have said things to people that I didn't know would hurt them until after I said it. Or even after I had walked away from that person. It weird how strong of an effect such a small part f the body as the tongue can have on your life and on others lives. And it's strange that what seems like such a small problem is one of the hardest one to fix. But it is worth fixing.

Talk later.

Graffiti and Anarchy

Some people consider it an art form, but I’m not one of them. To me it’s a canary-in-the-coal-mine thing, an indication of an unraveling civilization. It was appropriate that one of the symbols was an upper-case A with a circle around it - a symbol of anarchy. Last week, someone spray-painted graffiti representing whatever crude impulses entered his head around the Lovell Dump, or what is probably referred to as the Lovell Solid Waste Recycling Center now. If there ever were a proper venue for graffiti I suppose it would be a dump, but it was offensive even there.

Why do I say “his” head you may ask? Because the perpetrator was likely an adolescent male who knows very little but thinks he knows much. That two giant phalluses were among the symbols is also a clue. It’s possible he’s former student since I’ve taught nearly every fourteen-year-old who came through eighth grade around here for more than a generation. It’s also possible that he’s already been charged by the time this goes to print, but I’m out of town and out of touch, where there’s neither cellphone nor internet service and that’s nice. There’s no graffiti around here either. If he was caught and he’s under eighteen, his name won’t be published. People in town will know who he was though. They always do, and you can find out if you listen to the talk at one of the local lunch counters.

Graffiti “artists” who render crude phalluses probably wear their pants low on their rear ends - because they desperately want to belong to other groups of boys like themselves who don’t pull their pants up. Graffiti is part of their lifestyle. When they get old enough to drive, they’ll have sub-woofers installed in their cars to vibrate everything within a wide radius, blaring their angry “music” which they impose on us along with their graffiti. Sound and symbol go together, and those of us who pull our pants up consider both obnoxious.

Adolescent males who run in packs are anarchist by nature. The only limits they recognize are the impulses of the alpha male and change hour to hour. Anarchy is as old as the human race, but during the past two centuries, anarchists have adopted a loose philosophy. They believe there should be no government and they behave as if there weren’t any. They don’t respect private property, and that squares nicely with communists over on the extreme left of the political spectrum. Anarchists and communists have historically worked together to bring down governments. Once they’re successful in that, however, they part company. To fill the power vacuum, communists create huge government bureaucracies to control everything everybody does, and that’s the opposite of what anarchists profess.

Several anarchist groups like “Unconventional Action” and “Recreate 68” are planning to disrupt the Democrat Convention in Denver next month. According to the Denver Post: “A draft law proposed by the Denver Police Department would ban the possession by protesters of materials such as weighted pipes and chains and items that can make urine and feces bombs.” Hmm. Urine and feces bombs, huh? The excremental equivalent of rap “music” and graffiti, I guess. Would these be aimed at police or at Obama delegates?

Few adolescent boys understand anarchist history, but they’re attracted to symbols like the A with a circle around it because it’s associated with other angry young males who become sub-cultural heroes. Our media magnifies them as they make “music” and destroy things and treat young women like whores. Big media like Time Warner feed this subculture and profit mightily in the process.

The majority culture either accepts this adolescent anarchy, or even celebrates it because it’s associated with protected minorities. It is therefore an element of Multiculturalism - which purports that all cultures are equal. No culture, or subculture for that matter, is any better or any worse than any other. Cultural relativity has become a sacred principle and it’s not politically correct to question it. It’s even a hate crime in Canada where provincial Human Rights Commissions can bring charges against you and impose huge fines if you should publicly criticize a culture to the point where its adherents’ feelings get hurt. They don’t have a First Amendment up there.

Our society seems to have swallowed all this even when it means many of our adolescent boys behave like characters from “Lord of the Flies” and many of our adolescent girls look like prostitutes. Many grumble about it privately, but few speak out publicly lest they be called intolerant or even racist.

Such were my thoughts while I was photographing the graffiti before the dump attendant painted over it last week. That’s what we have to do with graffiti - kill it before it spreads, disinfect before it reproduces. Some claim this prevents “the broken-window effect” - if a broken window isn’t fixed right away, others around it will soon be broken too. Let’s hope we caught it in time.

And they wonder why teenage brains are melting

*Analogies and Metaphors*
These are actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays.
- John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.(deep very deep -
-He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River. (oh that's bad)
- Even in his last years, grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
- The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work. -
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while. (?)
- He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a landmine or something. (that would make you slightly lame)
- The Ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
- It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids with power tools. (This has happened to me, Love ya daddy!)
- He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up. (I don't know if that's a good way to put it, but okay)
- Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any pH cleanser. (Does that mean her eyes are green?)
- She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. (Is that a good thing?)
- Her voice had that tense grating quality, like a generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightening.
I think this last one is the best!
- It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.

It was a sunny day so I got out my camera.....Need I say more?

This is a stepping stone I made in first grade. I thought is was cool how it showed my name and all


















this is a plant on my front porch I like it's polka dots


















Flower hanger on the front porch
















It is July and yet we still have this Christmas decoration on the porch light

















Pretty pink flower



















The TWIN FLOWERS!!!




















Beautiful bloom from one of the trees in the front yard

Flute playin' angel

Again with the angel

Songs for all occasions: Part # 2

So, now to part 2 of my " Songs For All Occasions " series: wedding songs. I know that pondering funeral songs may be morbid, and that some of you may see thinking about songs that you would play at your ( as of yet non-existent ) wedding as slightly desperate..... but dont try and tell me you've never once thought of it, even in jest. You know you have!
And now, here for your viewing and listening pleasure, are five songs that i would consider having played at my nuptials:

1. " Seeing Angels " - John Butler Trio
2. " Just Because " - Nikka Costa
3. " Desire " - Ryan Adams
4. " With Or Without You " - U2
5. " Just Say Yes " - Ben Lee

Admittedly, there are more songs that, when i hear them, i think " Aww, wouldnt that make a beautiful wedding song ? " But these are the five that i would go for right now. Numbers 1 and 2 are in that order for a reason - heart melting lyrics. Observe:

From " Seeing Angels " by the John Butler Trio we have :

Take me for what you see

For I'm transparent in the light of you.

And look inside,

See that fire burning bright

The same one you rekindled inside me

My mouth was dry

Only you quenched my thirst

Or From " Just Because " by Nikka Costa :

I take you in and

I hold my breath

Try to save the time that's passing by

And if you came to say goodbye

A thousand summers would never dry

Every tear that touched my face

And they don't laugh the way you do

And they don't smile the way you do

And their eyes don't shine the way yours do

I love

I love

I love you just because

See now - hasn't your heart just melted into a giant puddle on the floor?

Songs for all occasions: Part #1

So i'm going to borrow an idea from the wonderful Steph over at The Panic Room - she recently madea tongue-in-cheek post about what songs she would consider having played at her funeral ( because she couldnt picture ever getting married .... ). I, however, have actually considered these from time to time and am going to make a list of actual choices i would make, if anybody asks me in advance. It might be morbid, but it think i've mentioned to my mother once or twice " Hey, can you hear this song ? Play it for me when i die! ". To which she usually replies " I'll already be dead by then! " . Yep - morbid. Anyhoodle, here's my list:

• " It Can't Rain All The Time " - Jane Siberry
• " Dance With You " - Live
• " Hallelujah " - Jeff Buckley ( or the version by KD Lang )
• " Walk On " - U2
• " Don't Dream Its Over " - Crowded House

And thats about all for now. There are others I have considered from time to time, but nothing that i can remember right now from the top of my head. I'd want something poignant, something that people would listen to and go " Yep, thats Amy.... ", whether it be because if the lyrics ( whether because they literally remind them of me, or the ideas conveyed remind them of me ) or for the melody and kind of song it is.

I cant help that i've actually thought this thing through - its just one of those things that scrossed my mind before. You know what else has crossed my mind? What songs i would played at any future wedding ( if indeed there ever is one... )

Watch out for wedding songs as the second part of this post!

#111!

Make a wish on this one hundred and eleventh post!

Really it isn't that big of a deal. But this is a World Changers refference. On the way to Durham Nikki was holding her phone and looked down and yeld "Everyone make a wish it's 11:11" It was funny cause that started the conversation about how many times a day that happened. Not 11:11 I know that comes twice, but like when it's three or for numbers that are the same in the time. Like 2:22 or 3:33. This is pointless so I'll stop here. Talk later.

I think Eight Is Enough ....

Alright, so its meme time again. I think its only fair that i do this one because the wonderful Miss Gates of If These Walls Could Talk has tagged me to do it - because i tagged her for one last week. It's a tag-a-thon! So apparently i'm supposed to make a list of eight personal things that you reader type person's dont already know..... crap. Here's what i came up with:

1. I eat the same thing for breakfast every morning - peanut butter on toasted grain bread. If i eat something different, say if i'm holidays or i've run out of peanut butter, i geta little narky and the day just isnt the same.
2. My hair falls out. Everyday when i wake up i run my hands through my hair and starnds of it will come away, or end clumped in my comb. Don't get me wrong, i'm not going bald or anything, its just that i have a LOT of hair and it apparently replenishes itself quite frequently. However, i found just a little gross that i shed hair like some kind of exotic cat...
3. My brother and i got into a physical fight once, when we were younger. He chocked me so hard he made my nose bleed. I cried and everything but, secretly, it was exhilarating. Fight Club anyone?
4. Because i dont drink milk, my nails are really brittle and constantly crack, break or peel. Gross.
5. Though i am completely anal about keeping DVD's and CD's in perfect, alphabetical and chronological order, this sense of order does not extend to my bedroom. If you stood at my bedroom door you would see my bed floating in a sea of clothes. They arent dirty mind, you just clean clothes that i dump on the floor, thinking i'll fold them and put them away later. I havent yet.
6. My first kiss was with a guy named Kenny, behind the girls toilets at my primary school. I think we were in fifth grade so it was one of those " shut your eyes, lean in, and pucker up " type kisses. From memory, i think their were about 15 other kids watching to see if we actually did it or not.
7. I did not vomit after a drinking session until i was 20 and half. Thats about 4 years of drinking experience without chucking up. I considered myself a legend until that fateful night.... its been all downhill from there.
8. I secretly want to try, just once, a nudist beach. Just to see if i had the guts. I'd say balls, but if it were a nudist beach it wouldnt only prove that i dont... hee hee hee.

Oh, wait, there was a second part to this meme.

• Tell me how wonderful I am before you tag 8 other bloggers

Well, SheenaBee, here goes - you are the most wonderful, gorgeous, witty, outrageous, compassionate, fabulous Saffa blogger in the blogosphere. You simultaneously make me feel jealous, appreciative, sad, happy, in love and murderous with rage. You are many things to many people but to me, you are a friend.

How'd i do ?

Now, can i name eight other bloggers who wont kill me for tagging them ?

1. Paula
2. Miss Em
3. CoffeeCup
4. Globus
5. Ruby
6. Lord Snuffy
7. SonnyVsDan ( although Sheena already tagged him... )
8. Anyone else who'd like to

And there you be - meme done!

Do dreams really tell you something?

So last night I had this really weird dream. For some reason Tessa and I were in a cross country endurance race were we had to find our way to the church or something like that. Well it was the dead of winter and we were stopped at my creek to water our horse, Joker(aka one of the ponies at T2F) and I had taken off his blankets, which held all our stuff, and laid them in the snow. Well for some reason my dad and grandma show up. I don't really know why but I did asked them which direction that Pleasant View was in. So they pointed it out and daddy started back up to the house. Mema on the other hand ran up the hill to the cliff and started to tip over a big metal thing, which she did and bats started fling out of it. Tessa freaked out and I think I laughed until the bats turned into water buffalo/cow looking things and started charging down the creek. Well I had left the blankets in the middle of the creek so I ran to get them. As you know the buffalo/cow things were charging down the creek so I threw up my arms and they all stopped. I some how got the blankets while keeping my arms raised and then got out of the way and Tessa and I headed on our way to Pleasant View. Then somehow we made it behind this game center that is about five minute from church the opposite direction from PV. Anyway. I was with a different group. Tessa had disappeared. And I was with my World Changers crew with a few others from church. Well when I saw the back of the center thing I got all excited and started screaming "I know where we are!" and ran down the hill to the busy road. When the group got down there I asked the leader if he want to take the back road or stay on this bust one. He said to stay on the busy one so we did and we started walking. Somehow I got separated from the group along with two other girls from church so we waited in a little play house by the road. Then I woke up.

Can you tell me if this dream means anything? 'Cause I don't really think it does.

Talk Later.

We're Working 4 You

So yesterday the WSMV Channel 4 news people came to the church to film our choir doing a Christmas jingle for their weather group. The jingle was to the tune of We Wish You a Merry Christmas and wasn't all that great so we sort of changed it, to make it that much more better. Anyway. The whole Choir(well most of it and a few extras) got all robed up and went and sang it about 5 times for the shooting of it(myself and Tessa included). I'm going to rewind here for just a second. It's 11:30 and I need to get a choir robe so I go in the women's robing room to find a robe. Well I didn't want to steal any ones so I grabbed an extra. It was a tent. It swallowed me whole. And I only got about 12 comments about it. But I stuck with it and only almost killed myself once(aren't you proud?). Okay back to the shooting of the jingle. We're up there singing and it's the next to the last shoot so the camera guy it panning the choir and right as the song ends he is in my general area. No big deal. Except I have a piece of hair in my face so I push it behind my ear, after the song is over, but the camera guy still looks like he's filming. And out of the blue Mrs. Janet leans over and goes "Don't fix your hair in front of the camera!!" I really didn't mean to do that in front of the camera. I was sure that he had stopped filming. I don't feel too bad cause I wasn't the only one who had camera issues. Tony, the music ministers son got scared by the camera and jumped back a little when it was right in front of him. What makes that even funnier is that he's 16 years old. lol. I thought it was funny anyway. Nikki, Tony's sister, was standing right behind me in the choir loft so when she got up there I informed her that there was no way I could sing if she was behind me. She gave me an evil look and said "Fine then I'll just deflate your air mattress." That is from World Changers. There was a spree of mattress deflator's and this proved that Nikki was one of them. But to that I replied "Fine just for that you can't use my shampoo." Ya see Nikki forgot about everything she needed so she use my shampoo and flip flops all week. Oh I also told her she couldn't use my flip flops and that's when her mom asked her why she had to use them and Nikki said, "I didn't want to get that foot fungus!!" That made a lot of people laugh. Well, that's about it. I will however finish off with a funny quote from the day.
-Mr. John was asking for those who were new that day to introduce themselves, He sees Thomas(a fifth grade boy sitting right behind me). So Mr. John asks if Thomas is a tenor. To which Thomas replies. "Yes, Ten or eleven" That was pretty funny right there and it got Mr. John off guard,that a fifth grader said that.
Talk l8r

We didnt get any chips!

So, i had my second kind-of, sort-of date with RNG today. Like i said, he lives in a small town about an hour-ish away from here and, seeing as he was already going to be in town, he asked if i'd like to get together for lunch of my lunch break. Sure, great idea - except i was kind of annoyed that i would have to be wearing my daggy work uniform. Dont get me wrong, uniforms are hot - if you're in the military, or a police officer or what have you. Not so much if you're an optical dispenser in a small time office. But i digress.

So we went to a pub just down the block from my office for some lunchtime pub grub ( dont you love the $10 lunch special ? ). It was nice - we sat in the bar and watched some English Super League while we talked. Again, there were very few awkward pauses ( only when we were watching a replay.... ) . Again, he bought me a drink. Or a beverage, as he put it ( too cute! ). Oh, and the meal itself was good too - excpet that we didnt get any chips! What good is mushroom sauce if you have no chips?

The goodbye, however, was a little more awkward this time. It could possibly have something to do with the fact that we standing right outside the store where i work, and i'm pretty sure my colleagues were sticky-beaking, but that was the only dodgy part. It did have me second-guessing a little but i have been reassured by my best friend that any guy who ask for a second date so soon to the first must surely like a girl. Agreed or no ?

P.S I am formulating a plan. More on this later....

Baby Bust

Hey liberals: I have good news and bad news.

Good news first: Remember how worried you were about increasing human population taking over animal habitat? Westerners using too much energy? Eating too much meat? Cutting down too many trees? Sending too much carbon into the atmosphere? Oppressing “people of color”? Well, the Western Civilization you hate is in decline. Europeans aren’t reproducing much and it looks like they’re just going to fade away in a few more generations. Immigrants “of color,” especially Muslims, are having lots of babies. They’re out-breeding Europeans (people “of pallor,” I suppose) as much as four-to-one. Won’t be long before Muslims “of color” are the majority, which is why some already refer to Europe as “Eurabia.”

The bad news? Europeans work few hours, take lots of vacations, then retire early with full benefits - just what liberal Americans think they should do too. Trouble is, that lifestyle requires working young people vastly outnumbering geezer retirees - and they’re just not there anymore. Not in Europe. Not in Canada. Not in blue-state America either (red staters are still breeding). A European cradle-to-grave socialist welfare system cannot sustain itself without lots of babies every year. It doesn’t work when there are more geezers than young people. So, the socialist utopia envisioned by American liberals and temporarily actualized by Europeans will disappear.

One great book covers this: “America Alone” ©2006 by New Hampshire’s Mark Steyn. He documents, in his tragic-comic style, how Western Civilization is committing suicide by refusing to reproduce. Meanwhile, Europeans bring in millions of Muslim immigrants from former colonies in Turkey, Pakistan, and Arab countries - most of whom refuse to assimilate and who breed like rabbits. They also collect welfare at higher rates than native-born French, Spanish, Italians, British or Germans. And, they would rather impose Sharia Law than support European geezers.

The New York Times finally got around to reporting the story in their June 29th Sunday magazine supplement with a cover piece called “Childless Europe.” Although author Russell Shorto quotes twice from “America Alone,” it’s as if he never read it. He acknowledges part of the problem, but doesn’t agree with Steyn about what caused it or how to deal with it. While Steyn blames multicultural, diversity-celebrating socialist welfare states for the continent’s baby bust, Shorto suggests they’re the solution, vainly in my opinion. He insinuates that because of it’s more generous child-care and maternity/paternity-leave programs, northern Europe’s birth rates are declining more slowly than southern Europe’s birth rates. North and south are both dying, but at different speeds. Steyn makes the case that Europeans don’t have children because of laziness, narcissism, and selfishness. Shorto claims it’s because they cost too much.

Steyn uses gallows humor to skewer sacred icons of liberalism - abortion and homosexuality - as obvious causes of Europe’s baby bust along with the social welfare state. Shorto ignores them completely - never mentioning either in his long article although there are 33 abortions for every 100 live births in western Europe and 105 abortions for every 100 live births in eastern Europe. Dead babies outnumber live babies there. How could Shorto overlook those statistical 800-pound gorillas in a cover story called “Childless Europe”? How could he disregard homosexual “marriage” as a factor in population decline? That’s hard, unless you work for the New York Times where they publish “All the news that’s fit to print.” Guess it’s not fitting to suggest that either abortion or homosexuality may be detrimental to society.

Steyn and Shorto both reference Paul Erlich’s “The Population Bomb.” Steyn ridicules Erlich’s predictions of demographic disaster and the western world’s Chicken Little reaction to it. Shorto interviewed Erlich and quoted him saying: “It’s insane to consider low birth rate as a crisis. Basically every person I know in my section of the National Academy of Sciences thinks it’s wonderful that rich countries are starting to shrink their populations to sustainable levels. We have to do that because we’re wrecking our life-support systems.”

It’s wonderful, huh Mr. Erlich? Just what is a “sustainable level”? Thomas Malthus’ “Essay on the Principle of Population” made a similar “running out of resources” case back around the turn of 19th century when there were fewer than a billion people worldwide. Charles Dickens’ “Ebeneezer Scrooge” reflects Malthusian thinking when he talks about “decreasing the surplus population.” Malthus was off the mark in his population disaster predictions since there are more than six billion humans on the planet now. In 1968, Erlich wrote: “the battle to feed all of humanity is over ... In the 1970s and 1980s hundreds of millions of people will starve to death in spite of any crash programs embarked upon now.”

Uh-huh. Now, about Al Gore’s writings . . . Nah. Never mind.

Hurray for Lindsay and Jason!!!

So on Tuesday(last week) my horseback riding instructor called and asked to talk to my mom. No big deal. Well momma came back over and told me I had to be there early, so we needed to call Haley and tell her to be ready early. So we did. Got there early. Got one horse ready for a lesson. Lindsay came down to the barn and got us all together (Haley, Maddie, and I) and said she had some good news. She said " I am now the proud mother of a....." Okay about now I'm thinking a puppy, new horse, But is was so much better. Sorry. "I am the proud mother of a baby boy in Moscow three years or younger!!!!" We flipped out. See Lindsay and Jason started the adoption process two years ago for Albania. Well that didn't work out. So about a month and a half ago they changed their country to Russia and pretty quickly got their referral. I'm so happy!!! They hope to get pictures soon and then go in August to meet him, come back for two months and then go back to get him before Christmas!!!! I'm so excited! This is such a God thing! Lindsay said that they hadn't felt really alright with the Albania adoption so they switched countries. And look what it got them!! WOW! Anyway please pray that this all goes well with them and that they get their little boy home soon.

View from the window ( Headspace 07.07.08 )

The streetlights turn on
Just as my lights turn off
The rain has come and
Caught me in its damp.
In it's downpour of
Thunder and lightning.
The air has gone cold
Sending a chill through my bones,
Cutting to my very core.
I wonder if i stepped out
Into the storm
Would it do the same ?
Would it penetrate my body,
Wash me pure, clean?
Or would it drown me
In it's fury,
Sweep me clean away ?

Kind-of, Sort-Of, Could Have Been A....

So when i said yesterday that i had hardly anything else i wanted to blog about - well, that wasnt entirely true. I do have something slightly different, slightly new, and possibly exciting, i just didnt really want to mention it in case i jinx something. See, thing is - i went on a date on Friday night.

Yep, me, the depressed person with anxiety issues who has difficulty interacting with new people went on a date. Actually, a kind-of, sort-of date - we didnt really put a label on it to be truthful. But from everything that went on and from my best friends humble opinion, it was a date. And also from what went on and from my own humble opinion, it was a date with a Really Nice Guy. Lets call him RNG for short.

RNG and i met online ( on a dating webiste that shall remain nameless ). He had just moved from the city to a small town not far from where i live and was looking to meet some new people. He sent me a message, i sent an email back and so on so forth. That was almost 6 weeks ago now. Now to be fair, its not like its taken us that long to get our shit together - he went on an already planned overseas holiday in between, so just after he came back i sent him a text and asked how his trip was : he said great and would i like to meet up? Obviously, there was more to the conversation than that but you get the gist.

So Friday night it was. RNG travelled the hour and bit from the small town where he is working and we went out for Thai ( i had mussamun curry.... yum! ). Considering that one of the participants on this date has a few social anxiety issues ( hi, that would be me ) there were hardly any awkward pauses and the conversation flowed nicely. Turns out we have a few key things in common - both into travel, both like football, seemingly a similar sense of humour. After dinner we went to see a movie ( " Hancock " which, for the record, was quite good ). RNG bought me a drink while i was in the bathroom and shared his popcorn with me. And, after that, the kind-of, sort-of date was over. No kiss, but a hug and a peck on the cheek accompanied by a " I had a really great time - would you like to do it again sometime soon ? ". Naturally, i said yes.

RNG texted me the next day to again say what a nice time he'd had and hoped i'd enjoyed it too. Naturally ( again ) i said yes. He has also texted me today just to see what i was up to and fill me in on the score of his rugby match yesterday.

And there you go, thats my news. So you tell me - are the signs pointing towards the positive ? Is RNG into me ? I guess the answers to those questions are yet to come, which means this general topic is a " To Be Continued ".....

Tag, I'm it!

So, i was tagged in a meme by Paula and, seeing as i have a very little else i'd like to blog about, i decided to take part. Read on:

Eight Things I Am Passionate About

1. Movies - yep i'm a huge film buff. I will also admit to being a film snob at times but that generally means i dont watse time watching Eddie Murphy or Martin Lawrence movies. The good films though are a form of escapism to me. I like to watch, ponder on and then disect films. I try to keep a current list of top 10 favourites and could list for you my favourite director, actor and actress. I wont though.
2. Fitness - these has become a passion just of late. I used to be " heavier " during high school, and even though i was relatively good at sport i wasnt all that much into it. Fell in love with going to the gym during my spare time in the USA and have just in the last three or four months gotten back into it. I try to go at least four times a week, five if i have the chance. I'm almost back to gym junkie status!
3. Blood donation - okay, i know this one sounds a little odd, but bare with me. I've blogged about it a few times before but i think donating blood is the easiest way to contribute to your community. I donate every 12 weeks on the dot and have also started donating plasma, and get a real high from knowing i'm helping to keep people alive. Unless you have some kind of illness or condition that prevents you from donating, you have no excuse not to...
4. Dressing for your body shape - just call me Trinny. Or Susannah if you prefer. I love clothes - its such a girly obsession - but rather than being all fashionista, i much more passionate about wearing what suits you best. I dont care whats in the pages of Vogue or Vanity Fair, i just want every woman on earth to dress to flatter herself, regardless of weather she is wearing last seasons jeans.
5.Relationships - be it friends, family, or lovers, i find it very hard to trust people. Thats why when i DO find people that i can trust, that i'm comfortable with, that i really like, i invest almost all of myself into that relationship. I'm extremely loyal, but if that loyalty or trust is questioned or broken, its very hard for me to trust again. This could be a bad thing, but mostly it works in my favour. It means the people in my life are the ones i love the most, and anybody else is dragging me down. Nobody needs a toxic friend!
6. Yoga - this kind of falls into the " fitness " category, but yoga is on a whole other level for me. I cant imagine my life without it in some capacity, and i am currently saving money so that i can train as a yoga instructor.
7.Travel - if only i had the money to do it more! My short term life goal is to visit at least one country on every continent before i turn 30. I'm half way there, but there is so much more i want to see, and experience, and learn. Anyone want to let me crash on their couch?
8. Music - this is probably on everyone's list, but like a good movie music is an escape for me. I'm still undecided as to whether i'm more of a melody or a lyrics person, but a brilliant combination of both will get me everytime.

Eight Things I Want To Do Before I Die

1. Learn how to make authentic bolognaise sauce - in Italy
2. Have children - dont care how many, but three would be nice
3. Grow my half way down my back, like i had when i was a child
4. Learn another language and at least be semi-fluent
5. Bought a house, but made it a home
6. Raised a dog from puppy to old age
7. Seen every Cirque Du Soleil production
8.Owned at least one piece of expensive designer clothing - there's the vanity coming out

Eight Things I Say Often

1. Bro - imagine it in a Kiwi accent ( i'm not Kiwi, its just how i say it ) as in " see ya later, bro "
2. Good Lord Claude! - picked this one up off my boss. Used most often when i'm exasperated with customers, management or computers.
3. Cack you later - shorten Aussie slang for " catch you later ".
4. What a mole! - thats my favourite light-hearted insult at the moment. Also quite often shortened to just " mole ", as in : " Did you hear what that guy just said? Mole! "
5. Jerk! - see entry above for mole, because its pretty much the same thing.
6. Freakin' boo-Jesus - variably either a term of frusturation or suprise. You jump out of a closet, you get a " Freakin' boo-Jesus, you scared the shit out of me! ". My computer freezes up, you get " Freakin' boo-Jesus, stupid computer! "
7. What a crock - of shit, that is.
8. Fella - used in many contexts, but its my favourite word instead of boy/man.

Eight Books I've Read Recently

1. Long Way Down - Nick Hornby
2. Soul- Tobsha Learner
3. The Memory Keepers Daughter - Kim Edwards
4. The Motorcyle Diaries - Che Guevara
5. Atonement - Ian McEwan
6. White Oleander - Janet Fitch
7. The Life of Pi - Yann Martel
8. I Know This Much Is True - Wally Lamb

Eight Movies I've Seen Eight Times

1. The Princess Bride
2. The Crow
3. Dazed and Confused
4. Rent
5. Empire Records
6. V for Vendetta
7. The Breakfast Club
8. The Lion King

Eight People Who Should Do This Meme

( crud, can i even think of eight ? )

1. Sheena
2. SonnyVsDan
3. Lord Snuffy
4. Miss Em
5. Coffecup
6. Ruby

..... thats all i got. Feel free to not to do it, but just imagine me giving you a disappointed, puppy-dog eyed, face....

Could someone please put me to bed?

Seriously, i'm tired. It wont stop me watching " The Amazing Race " before getting some zzz's, but I am tired. ( Incidentally, i almost wrote the title of this post as Can Someone Please TAKE Me To Bed, but thats a whole different invitation entirely ). Anyways, the past few days have taken their toll, sleepiness-wise.

After having my flight delayed almost two hours on the way to Sydney - and missing the planned dinner because of the delay - my roomie and i were up early for our conference. To be quite honest, i found most of the conference content to be pretty interesting ; since the departure of our national manager we as a staff have had a lot of issues that needed discussing. We got a chance to do that, together, as one big group at the conference. We also got presented with a whole tonne of statistics and figures that i wasnt previously aware of. If there was one complaint - and yes, i have one - its that i and my colleague felt personally picked on. Ever single negative scenario we discussed was done so using our store as an example. There was a lot of questions be pointed in my direction, many of which i cant answer; and issues brought up that i have been trying in vain to solve and i cannot hold much responsibility for because i have inherited them from previous managers. I wasnt given much of a chance to point out what we do well, nor were we given any appreciation for things that we have postively accomplished. There was a whole session of what felt like " Pick on Amy's Branch : The Pity Party - presented by Senior Management ". But hey, aside from that, it was almost bearable.

So after finishing up the conference ( late mind you, but what conference ever runs on time ? ) it was time to get changed and head out to the stadium for State of Origin. I was excited! No joke, for real, havent felt for a long time, excited. Luckily you guys are reading this to yourselves, and not having me read out loud - i screamed my little lungs out and have wound up with a sore throat and slightly croaky voice for my efforts. Unfortunately, it didnt matter how much or how loudly i screamed, turns out my team didnt hear and didnt follow my instructions to :
a ) " Go forward New South Wales !!! "
b ) " Do something it with it boys !!! "
c ) " Don't run it up the middle - spread it wide you idiots! WIDE!!! "

And nor did the referee heed my pleas to get the opponents back their 10 metres, give us a penalty when the ball was CLEARLY raked or to send Nate Myles off for a blatantly obvious dangerous tackle. ( Nate Myles and Brent Tate - dirtiest players in the league ).
Nope, none of that happened and my boys lost the game. Which means we lost the series. Again - for the third year in a row. But I wont give up! I was born a blue cockroach and i'll die a blue cockroach - on to next year!



NOTE: Thats a blue cockroach. He's dancing, thats why he's slightly blurry.
NOTE#2 He is awesome, and you know it.
NOTE #3 I catch an 8:15am flight home this morning and spin out! The flight attendant is a good friend of mine from school.... made for a good start to a new day....

Yep I'm such a geek

On Sunday night after church I went with Tessa and her family to the Praise Band party at Mrs. Kim's house. We just pretty much hung out for about two hours and it was pretty fun. They had some good food too. Anyway we were talking about how some people got back from World Changers and got some surprises. Morgan got a new mattress and bedspread. I can't think what everyone else got, but still we were talking about it. I mentioned that I did not have any surprises when I got back home, but that I was okay with that. Then about five minutes later I realized I did get a sort of surprise. I got my microscope for biology this year. So out of the blue I go "Oh wait I got a microscope!" They just stared at me. Yep I'm a geek. At least to some extent.

Talk Later

Worst That Could Happen

Thirty years ago, I remember feeling complimented when asked if I were an anti-nuclear activist. If I ever was, I’m not anymore. The world has changed and I have too. In my idealistic world-view, I thought it might be feasible to rid the world of nuclear weapons - too naive to realize that once the toothpaste is out of the tube, we’re never going to get it back in. People like me were against all things nuclear - weapons and power plants producing uranium and plutonium that could be made into weapons.

In 1979, Pennsylvania’s Three Mile Island nuclear power plant nearly melted down. In January of 1986, I was in my first term as a selectman when the federal government notified us that my town and others in southwestern Maine were being considered as a repository for high-level nuclear waste. Maine was moving rapidly leftward because of an in-migration of people like me and we were in high dudgeon as we berated bureaucrats from the US Department of Energy at hearings around the state. They tolerated us calmly and then abandoned their plans after the Soviet Union's Chernobyl nuclear plant melted down in late April.

Shortly thereafter, Presidents Reagan and Bush negotiated the Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty with the Soviet Union and after four decades of building them, we actually began dismantling nuclear weapons.

Trouble is, the Soviet Union disintegrated. It was as inept monitoring its nuclear weapons as it was monitoring its nuclear power plants. Its huge military was not getting paid. Its nukes, its plutonium, its enriched uranium, and its nuclear physicists were hanging around - lots of weapons and weapons experts looking for cash. Radical Muslims just to the south were flush with cash and looking for nuclear weapons. It doesn’t take an expert in international politics to understand deals were likely made. We must operate under the assumption that our enemies have nukes and are anxious to use them against us.

In January, 2007, I was in the audience in Washington DC when former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich said: “At some point down the road, we run a serious risk of losing two or three [American] cities to nuclear weapons [in terrorist attacks], and it’s a lot better to act now before we lose a city.”

And it’s not just conservative Republicans warning us. On the other side of the aisle, Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chairman Joe Biden said: “the most dangerous threat America faces is the possibility that one of the world's most extreme groups -- like al Qaeda -- gets its hands on a nuclear bomb."

Graham Allison, Director, Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government claims: “a successful terrorist nuclear attack devastating one of the great cities of the world is inevitable.”

Scotland’s Sunday Herald quoted Ian Dickinson, who leads the police response to chemical, biological and nuclear threats there: "These materials are undoubtedly out there, and undoubtedly will end up in terrorists' hands, and undoubtedly will be used by terrorists some time soon," he claims.

Although he didn’t use the word “nuclear,” Senator Joseph Lieberman said on CBS’s Face the Nation: “"Our enemies will test the new president early. Remember that the truck bombing of the World Trade Center happened in the first year of the Clinton administration. 9/11 happened in the first year of the Bush administration."

What Lieberman didn’t mention is that al Quaida returns to a target if they’re unsuccessful destroying it the first time - as they did with the World Trade Center in 1993 and 2001. United Flight 93 was believed to be headed for either the White House or the US Capitol Building before it was taken over by passengers and crashed in Pennsylvania. Does al Qaeda plan to go back to the Capitol and finish the job?

SITE Intelligence Group revealed a horrific, computer-generated image of what the US Capitol would look like after a terrorist nuke attack. SITE found the image on two password-protected al-Qaeda-affiliated web sites. Evidently, our enemies found the image somewhere and use it to salivate while making their plans. With our porous borders and port facilities, we’re vulnerable.

Every American needs to look long at our enemies' vision for us. Perhaps it will help us understand that we need to get a whole lot tougher if we’re going to prevent it from becoming reality. Five Supreme Court justices should have gazed at it before voting to grant rights of habeas corpus to Guantanamo terrorists who would live only to bring down the Great Satan - that’s us, in case you didn’t know. To accomplish that, nothing would be more effective than nuking Washington, DC.