After this, a moment of silence.

Michael Schiavo wants an autopsy to be performed on Terri’s body because I’ll bet it is a necessity to get the money from the insurance companies. If this man gets rich from this woman’s death, he should be starved for 13 days. Couldn’t they have at least admitted what they were doing and eased her into death a bit by smothering her with a pillow? At least then her murder would have been quicker. I can’t believe that no one looks at Michael Schiavo as a villain. He would not even let her family be with her as she died. It’s like he abducted her and they are not the ones he wants the ransom from. Now that he has gotten his way, he can’t even let her family bury her body near them to visit her burial place. Does anyone believe that he will put flowers on her grave?
Maybe I am wrong. Maybe he really did love her and wanted the best for her. Maybe he truly thought that she would not get better and desperately wanted a family. Maybe a situation like this can’t help but get ugly. I don’t know. I do think that the family really did love her and his keeping them from her in her last moments is beyond cruel. What if the autopsy shows that she was cognizant of her surroundings? How will people reconcile what they have done? I don’t know what they will find in her autopsy, but I don’t understand how anyone can find starving someone to death acceptable.

But there will always be Simon.

The guy (Jaded Journalist) who writes the American Idol recaps on http://www.idolonfox.com/, while funny, is very slow to update his page. I want to make comments on the final 10 members of the elite crew aiming to become “Our Next American Idol!” Be aware that most are going to be nasty, but I don’t care. I am not in the mood to be a kind person. Besides, I think if you go on a show like American Idol, you have to expect people to be critiquing every aspect of you. (Forgive me; I am a bit moody today. I may feel bad about being a jackass later, but I am not going to think about that now.)
Let’s start out alphabetically by their first names.

Anthony Federov: The Ukrainian throat operation survivor. He needs a haircut, or at least some product in his hair. That weird cherubic hairstyle did not look good on the yuppies in the 80’s when it was considered fashionable and it certainly does not look good on him. Now, I understand that he is from the Eastern Bloc and I do enjoy watching the pop concerts that they show on MHZ from Russia. But he has lived in the States long enough. He annoys me. I hate his choices of crappy pop ballads. Time to go, Anatoli.

Anwar Robinson: He is 25. He looks really old to me for some reason. He seems very gentle, but a bit too schmaltzy for me. He also always looks a bit like he does not really know what’s going on, but he’ll go along for the ride. I was surprised to see him in the bottom three this week. This guy is unimposing.

Bo Bice: I think he is great. He has stage presence and radiates a sense of self that makes him fun to watch. He also picks songs that I like and sings them well. I think he will go far. I predict 2nd.

Carrie Underwood: Oh Carrie. So cute and sweet. Naïve, but not stupid. Soo pretty. Great voice. Weird decisions regarding hairstyles, though. Can someone take her aside and give a couple of hints? I am sure they have stylists on that show, though by looking at Paula…maybe not… Carrie will win and she will be a big star. Alas, maybe her fame will come in the country music industry. I am not a big country music fan.

Constantine Maroulis: Really tall. Weird vibrato. Ugly hair. Calls himself a rocker yet seems to always be singing non-rocker songs like “I think I love you” by the Partridge Family..? What is up with the chin fat? Quit kicking. It’s not rock n’roll. It’s just weird. Get a hair cut and stop wearing those jeans. I did not want to get to know you that well.

Jessica Sierra: Was voted off last night. I was actually kind of surprised. They have voted off three of the six girls. What’s up with that? This one could sing. She looks like she is going to weigh 300 pounds by the time she is a grown up, but she has an awesome voice. Oh well. Bye Jessica. Bye half blonde, half black hair. Bye weird mouth.

Nadia Turner: I totally dug her at first, though when she smiles, I become afraid. She looks just like the Joker in the Batman movie. And she totally misses the point of the songs. She wore a Mohawk to sing Time After Time. Now I may be a bit biased as Cyndi Lauper was my idol growing up, but Time After Time is not a song to sing grinning and prancing around for the cameras. Nadia does not grasp that there are words to songs, and these words have meanings and a good singer reflects that in the way they sing. She has been in the bottom three for two weeks. I predict she is gone within two weeks.

Nikko Smith: He is from Town & Country, MO…. There is a town called Town & Country…? Seriously? Or did he get confused when filling out the paperwork for the show? This is baseball great Ozzie Smith’s kid. Maybe Ozzie is playing ball, because he is never in the audience. This kid was voted off before, and is back because Mario left due to that fact that he is gay/and or hitting on all the girls. (That’s what I heard.) I am not a fan, Nikko. I fast forward through your songs.

Scott Savol: Why did you sing Phil Collins? Why? I love that song, and now I have a bad experience with it. You look a bit like Scotty Bowman. (Sorry Scotty.) You have the worst attitude. I hope you do not because a celebrity on any level because you would not be a good role model for anyone. I do not like you. I do not like you one bit. I hope you leave soon.

Vonzell Solomon: Interesting. She seemed very boring to me at first. She seemed like a nice girl, but not a great singer. She seems to be growing with the show. It’s weird. I am not sure how I feel about her. I got nothing. But she ain’t gonna win.

I am chatty tonight.

I also took a test today to find out what kind of dog I am. (Please refrain yourself from making the obvious remarks here. That's not nice.) I, apparently, am an English Cocker Spaniel. Hmph. That was so not what I was thinking. I do not have a fondness in my heart for Cocker Spaniels. I do not like their fur, or their weepy eyes or the fact that they are so short. But hell, maybe I am a Cocker Spaniel. I do not like my hair, my weepy eyes or the fact that I am short. Damn.

Wanna take the test? Go to this website and click on "game" on the left side.

The English Cocker is merry and affectionate, of equable disposition, neither sluggish nor hyperactive, a willing worker and a faithful and engaging companion. ~ akc.org

I think EVERYBODY looks like ME!

I saw The Ring Two tonight and was glad, for one thing, that the movie theatre was mostly empty. I hate going to see scary movies when there are a ton of people seeing it with me. I saw Hide and Seek, and the slew of pre-pubescent monkeys sitting to my left shrieked at every intimation of fright. When I saw The Sixth Sense, the screams were ridiculous. Ok, the temperature went down.. SCREAM! Oh, the spooky music just played, better scream. Grr. But I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about Naomi Watts. Oh, Naomi. How I loved you as a raven haired jet tech in Tank Girl. You were so sweet as a coed in Flirting. Mulholland Drive is still a movie that I could overanalyze for hours. But what is with the weird scared breathing? You do it all the time. Especially in The Ring. (Imagine you are cold and scared and are making sounds like huhhuhuhhuhuh deep in your throat. That's the sound she makes. Too often.) At one point in the movie, Naomi, I felt you were doing it just to mess with me. Just thought I would mention it.
Another thing: I have always thought myself to be somewhat similar to Naomi Watts in looks. Especially when my hair was the same color as hers. But I had heard from several people that I look a bit like Elizabeth Hurley, which I always thought had to be the Methadone speaking. Because they had to be on drugs to see that one. Well, watching Naomi work her craft, I totally saw some Elizabeth Hurley in her. So, maybe I am similar to both. Hmm. Watch out Avril... I am going to be examining you next. (That sounds dirty, but that's not what I mean, you freaks. I meant that Avril looks like I did as a teen.)

Pardon my lack of apathy

It is astounding how a case that gets media coverage can spark such intense conversation. Even more so that one can let themselves get all fired up about an issue affecting some stranger’s life. I can understand on the one hand that these situations, brought to our attention by some unfortunate soul, initiate thought about circumstances that might possibly, though hopefully never, affect us sometime in our own lifetime. But on the other, I, for example, get really emotionally involved. It is pretty clear how I feel about the Schiavo case. This is just an example of life to me. I don’t want to reiterate my thoughts on it, but I have had two conversations with people whose viewpoints differed from mine drastically and it really got me to thinking. Both conversations really pissed me off. Is it good to have a strong opinion, if when discussing it, causes such intense frustration? Are these kinds of conversations the foundation for change? Or is it better to keep your mouth shut on hot topics, especially when considering the fact that most people have no intentions of veering from their beliefs. Do people respect apathy over fervent convictions…?

Top o' the tower, to ya.

I have a theory on religion. Those of you who have known me for a while have heard this theory before. Don't want to hear it again? Move along, little doggie...
Here we go...
There is a story in the bible about The Tower of Babel.
"Now the whole earth had one language and few words. And as men migrated from the east, they found a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. And they said to one another, 'Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.' And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, 'Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.' And the LORD came down to see the city and the tower, which the sons of men had built. And the LORD said, 'Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; and nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and there confuse their language, that they may not understand one another's speech.' So the LORD scattered them abroad from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city.' Therefore its name was called Babel, because there the LORD confused the language of all the earth; and from there the LORD scattered them abroad over the face of all the earth." (Genesis 11:1-9)
So my theory is that God destroyed the tower as well. The one true and complete religion was a big round mirror at the top of this tower. When the tower fell, the mirror shattered and all the people took a piece of this mirror to whatever land they went to and there they tried to recreate the whole mirror (true religion) from their memories and the one sliver they took with them.
In short, I believe that all religions have a sliver of the one true religion. Some pieces of the original mirror are bigger than others and have a bit more of the original religion in them. I think that someday we will get it back together again. I think that the basic message of all organized religions is the same. Be good to yourself and be good to others.

Silence, please... except during the silence.

I took my mum to the symphony last week. It was Verdi's Requiem. Heavy stuff. The conductor had big floppy hair that he liked to flip wildy as he gesticulated towards the musicians. He was not unlike Sideshow Bob from the Simpsons.
People have funny symphony etiquette. The show was only about an hour and half, luckily. I think people would have gone insane. During the playing of music, no one dared move. As soon as there was silence, the entire auditorium developed a bug in their throats and felt obligated to cough. It was a caucophony of coughs, if you will. (I am the funniest person alive.) It was like two shows at once! (Do, I have to break this down? The Requiem was one show, and the coughing/movement was another. I know I am an ass. Can you like me anyway? Please?) All movement took place during the silences and the conductor would stand there will his hair aflame and his arms stretched wildly waiting for utter silence before he began to conduct. I truly believe the show would have been an hour had he had less patience. Me, I have a cold and I held my breath so that I would not cough and I only coughed when they hit the big drums. I thought I was doing it right. I guess I did not understand the apparent proper protocol was that the time to cough is during the silence. The Requiem also featured 4 opera singers. A soprano, an alto, a tenor (which I mistakenly keep typing as tenro) and a bass. Now, I was about 20 rows in and against the wall, but there was no one to block the bass's view of me. He looked at his book most of the time, but I am pretty sure he was checking me out. I distinctly saw him look at me and smile a bit. I am not delusional. He was not cute, but he can't help it that I am, right? Yeah, my mum thinks I am nuts, too. But I have to keep myself entertained somehow.

Work clothes

Okay, so this is another old one. What, am I on holiday that I need to dig up old material to fill my deadline? Actually, no. But I have not had time to write anything and I keep finding these hilarious things I have written in the past. Okay, maybe not hilarious... But good enough. So read it. Gosh!


What is the deal with skirts? Has the feminist movement gotten us nowhere? Men don’t wear skirts, why should I have to? In an office where I might be seen by outside forces, I understand the concept of power dressing. Maybe also if I felt that my career choice to date was one I planned to pursue to the top, then I would be compelled to dress like a CEO. But the fact is, I don’t. I also am not seen by outside forces. The people who pass my cubicle only see me from the waist up. Maybe I could be like an anchorperson and wear a suit top and shorts. Come on now, is the way I dress going to affect the work I do? Can you tell by reading this if I am wearing a double-breasted suit or a pair of cut off Wranglers (not that Wranglers are even in my closet. But who knows, they might make a statement. One that does not say, “Look at me! I’m a cowboy!” Though I kind of want to be a cowboy. So maybe I should go get a pair of Wranglers.) I have a pair of Z. Cavaricci jeans. I love them. They are a throw back to the 70’s, no? I feel like one of Charlie’s Angels in them. They are a bit snug. Every time I wear them, my mother says “Who shot you into your pants?” (Come to think of it, she says that about all my jeans…) Back to dressing for work. Ok, we have an image to uphold. Understood. But, adding insult to injury, pantyhose? Ugh. I would love to see a guy walk around in pantyhose for an hour, much less eight. If they want ladies to cover their legs, then why the big push to wear skirts? Another thing, why are all work clothes dry clean only? Not only did I shell out $300 for this suit, but I also have to pay $15 every time I want to wear it again. AND, if I really want to look good, there is another $60 payment for tailoring. Plus, I had to take a class on French twisting my hair. What am I, a cop? Afraid that if I leave my hair down someone will tug on it and use it as a weapon on me? (Actually, with one person I know, it might be good for me to keep my hair out of reach.) I never did learn how to French twist. It is more of a Montreal twist. I also had to get all new makeup for the daytime look. (Ok, so I didn’t. But who can resist those awesome Christian Dior lip-glosses?) I think I need a raise.

Maxim cover girl

Prologue: A couple of years ago my best friend decided that I should enter a contest to get into Maxim the magazine... This is the story of the 24 hours before I sent in my pictures...

Who would not want to be on the cover of Maxim?
Just recently, the editors of Maxim were accepting entries for their second annual Girlfriend of the Day contest. Marci and I got together at my house to take some pictures. (Get your mind out of the gutter. Not those kind of pictures.) She decided that she wanted to enter me into the competition. (I am her friend and I am a girl… therefore, I am a girlfriend. Again, get your mind out of the gutter.)
So, I put a load of makeup on, fixed my hair and found the belly baring-est clothes I could find. Pose. Snap! Pose. Snap! Pose. Some movement catches our eyes. SCREAM! Big-ass bug flying around my room! Panic! I grab my baseball bat. But the bug is hiding under the bed. It comes out after a few minutes just to hear us scream again and scurry rapidly back under the bed. We are clinging to each other in mortal fear of the “Death bug” and the bug is most likely freaking out under the bed, its little heart pounding like mad. But every time it emerges, we scream again. Damn! Never knew we were such girls! Finally, we grab the vacuum cleaner and suck it up. Then, leaving the vacuum running so that the bug will not try to escape it, we contemplate our next step. We tape up the vacuum hose. That bug is not going to get us. Trauma behind us, we get back to the task at hand. We had to. Being the last minute dopes that we are, we had to take the pictures, develop them and send them into Maxim within 24 hours. Nothing like the last minute, eh?
The next day I had them developed. To save time, I had them put on a CD-ROM. When I went in to get them, the developer guy came out from behind his machine to help me, even though there were a couple of people ahead of me in line that were still waiting to be helped. (Curious.) And he did not charge me for the index print, which they always charge you for. (Curiouser.) So, (potentially scary) pictures in hand, I went home. Marci and I went through the pile and found the non-scariest of the bunch. Let me tell you, this was not an easy feat, but it was done. (Ok, I lie a bit, the picture we chose was pretty cute – Does that make me vain?) Paperwork filled out and picture sent in. Done! Marci and I popped open a couple of fudgesicles to celebrate (the fact that we actually finished something that we started was reason enough to celebrate). Imagine my surprise when the deadline for contacting me about being a contestant had passed without an email or call! But I am not completely deterred. I want to be on the cover of Maxim! If they won’t let me win that contest, maybe you guys can help me out. I was thinking that maybe a petition would work, or else if we make a huge stink about it, Maxim editors will take pity on me (like the pity people take on a three-legged dog. Don’t call me tripod.) and call me up.

In the end:
I actually did get picked to be one of the 100 chicks they put on their webpage to vote from. Alas, I did not make it in to the top ten. I still think I was supercute and they should put me on the cover. They should just be careful that the pictures they take are not quite as overexposed as the ones Marci and I took. We thought we'd need a whole lot of light. Yeah, well my skin, being almost perfectly white, takes all light and reflects it. So, actually, you need less light to photograph me. I, apparently, radiate my own.

...

How is it possible that people don’t see that by removing food from a person, regardless if they feed themselves or not, is wrong? Are people seeing the Terri Schiavo case only for the fact that the government is getting involved and they are afraid that this will open the door for the government to dictate how they can live their lives? I understand that is a scary notion, but it does not under any circumstances negate that fact that this woman is not being held alive under the aid of machines. I don’t want the government involved in such matters either, but we can’t simply eradicate things that become a hindrance to our lives. By removing Terri Schiavo’s feeding tube, we are placing her under the category of disposable items. Is that what we have become? A nation that is so used to convenience that even our humans are disposable once they become an inconvenience? I don’t want to live in a country where people don’t place a value on a person’s life. You can tell me what you want about your rights and what you want out of your life. No one wants to be in Terri Schiavo’s place, or her family’s, but that is what happened to them and they should be commended for their faith and commitment to her. And if you want to make sure that it does not happen to you, write your living will and make sure that your family understands your wishes. But don’t stand there and tell me that it is right to kill someone, regardless of how little you think of their life.

Everyone is talking about...

Is Terri Schiavo really alive? I have been watching snippets of the news, as I am sure everyone has been. The news channels are inundated with Schiavo news as the future of this Florida woman becomes political. They show footage of her responding to stimuli. She has an almost smiling expression. I had heard of this case in the past, and had always assumed that Terri Schiavo was in a coma. They refer to her as being in a “permanent vegetative state”. I did not expect to find her somewhat reactive. I was not aware that the only tube she has is a feeding tube. I had previously thought that she was on all sorts of life support and were she unplugged from them, she would almost instantly die. It is cruel to let her starve to death. Is a feeding tube considered artificial life support? According to CNN, without liquids, it could take Schiavo two to four weeks to die from dehydration. That does not seem like it is the pathway between life and death for her. What I mean is that she can’t feed herself, so she needs a feeding tube. But that tube is not all that is keeping her alive. She would continue to live until she dies in two to four weeks from what ostensibly can only be considered neglect. After all, we don't let other people too weak or incapable of feding themselves starve to death. Taking out her feeding tube is akin to smothering her.
I understand that her husband would like to move on with his life. He wants to let her go. The only problem with his involvement is that he already has let her go. He has a whole new family. What is his motivation for being involved? If her family, the ones who are actually concerned with her day after day, want to continue to look after her and care for her, they should have that right. If you were a member of her family and were an active part of her life, there is no way that you would be okay with letting her starve to death. She looks at you. She moves. She reacts. I think seeing what had formerly been a vivacious, lively person relegated to becoming this shell, must be devastating. Some neurologists say that she has no higher brain activity. Understood. It does not, however erase that she is still your friend, sister, daughter, etc. My guess is that her family holds her dearly and the day she dies, for whatever reason, will be a day of great mourning. The hope is still in them; regardless if they are choose to accept that she will never be the person they once knew.
I, personally, am having the hardest time wrapping my brain around the whole situation. Her body is still alive. She is not dying. They want to kill her by removing her food and water. But what kind of life is this? I would not want to be in existence in this manner. I would not want someone I love to have to exist in this manner. Perhaps I feel this way because it would be too hard for me to deal with. I do not think we have a say in the matter, truthfully. She is alive. She is not struggling for life nor is she struggling for death.
Make no mistake about it. I am aware that Terri Schiavo is never going to be well. I understand that she might simply be reacting to stimuli, not to situations. But, we are not omnipotent. We can say from experience that she is never going to get better and that her brain could never heal from the damage. But we don't know all the things a human body is capable of. She will die when it is her time and if she needs a feeding tube in the meantime, she should have it. As long as she is alive, it is our duty to tend to her. We can’t just let her starve to death because she has become an inconvenience. It is not our place to play God.

On a side note: I understand that people might get up in arms about the cost of keeping Terri Schiavo alive. Unfortunately, to address this properly, we would have to address all of Medicare and welfare and any other aid that we give our citizens.

I'm mean. So what?

We say the meanest things about people behind their backs and then justify it by saying we would say it to their faces. But would we? And even if we did, does that make it okay to be so mean at a time where the victim can't defend themself? Besides, I say that, but would I really say those cruel things to people's faces? I can't imagine that I would.

Quit that infernal racket!!!

It really bums me out when someone has a problem with me and they won't take it up with me directly. I got a letter today from my housing office saying that someone had filed a complaint of too much noise coming from my place. Okay, it's true I turn the radio on way too loud, but wouldn't you just knock on the door and say turn that down, please? Or perhaps you would like to wait for me to emerge from my home and then politely say "Gee, I like to listen to the radio, too. But I have my own. I don't need to listen to yours. But thanks for thinking of me."? Instead, going covertly to a higher power without ever giving me a chance to correct the problem is so cowardly and makes me mad. So, now I am finding myself glaring at everyone and when the person who lives above me made some noise that sounded like she was sending a bowling ball careening over the floor, I was tempted to march up there and tell her that league night is MONDAY, not WEDNESDAY!

The best part of waking up...

The first thing I do when I wake up is start the coffee pot. I love that by the time I get out of the shower, the whole house is fragranced by the hearty scent of Café Godiva Chocolate Crème Coffee. (I got a sack of it for Christmas, and while the coffee is long gone, the memories linger. That’s some good stuff.) Personally, I like flavoured coffees with a plain cream. I also like plain coffee with flavoured cream. (I don’t want any whipped cream near my coffee, though.) My boss tells me that he thinks coffee should be coffee flavoured and that you don’t mess with perfection. I say, what’s wrong with making something great, better? I think we settle into what we get used to and fear change. But what if my fear of whipped cream is making me miss out on one of the greater joys of life and I won’t ever know because I refuse to take a chance?

That'll be one dollar, please.

I think people in jail should have to pay for their stay. I don't see why my tax dollars are paying for these people who committed a crime to have a roof over their heads, food in their bellies and time to work out. I say, give them a job. They can stuff envelopes, I guess. I am sure that I could come up with plenty of jobs for inmates to do to earn their keep. They could have a grid denoting the job and the
amount of money that job earns. I think that you could pay for your jail stay with money that you had in your savings account, but not if you got that money by committing a crime. For example, if you robbed a bank and went to jail because of it, you obviously could not keep that money, much less pay for your stay at Camp Cupcake with it. Also, the money has to come from the criminal, not his family. No one can pay for your jail stay but you.
I also am a proponent of getting educated while in the clank. BUT, I don't think it should come for free. I do think that once a criminal has paid for their degree and received it, they could be given the chance for a different level of prison employment, and thereby earn more money. I think that the menu should be paid for. So, if you are not making enough money because you are a lazy, feeling-entitled kind
of prisoner, you eat cheapest crap because that's all you can afford. You want a pillow to rest your (better be a repentant) head on? That will be one dollar, please.
I bet this system would better prepare prisoners to live in the "free world" than our current system and I bet the inmates would work harder in order to buy better food, clothes, priviledges. I also think that they would not be so quick to commit another crime just to get back into prison because the real world is too hard to deal with.

Little Pretty Hidden Things

I was just heading off to bed and I took my ugly black work socks off to reveal two of the cutest feet I have ever seen. Why are they so darn cute, you may ask. Well, let me tell you! I had a pedicure on Tuesday. A really good pedicure. My toenails are tended to and painted in the most delightful shade of raspberry. Just looking at my feet fills me with delight. Especially when I consider that no one knows that my feet are so cute under my ugly black socks and my high-stylin' black boots. Then I got to thinking about my collection of not-black socks. I might have the strangest selection of socks a girl over 13 can have. I have cow print socks and rainbow striped socks and love bug socks and Hanukkah socks (Thanks, Marci). I love to wear these socks under my boots. Especially when I am at work or wearing something serious. Because I guess I feel I got one over on "The Man". You can make me dress all corporate-like, but you have no idea that my socks are covered with little hearts that read "Kiss me". That also got me thinking about underwear. I have gone out in the sexiest of ensembles, but underneath is nothing anyone would ever want to see. For example, my friend's wedding. I was the maid of honor. I wore this beautiful purple dress that was made of satin. Being terrified of lines, the underwear that I wore was HUGE and made of lace so that there would be no unsightly bulging. I am serious about them being huge. Seriously, I did not have to wear a bra. But I have also worn someof the cutest stuff under t-shirts and sweatpants. I guess I really like to know that you can take me for what you see, but no one really knows what I have got going on under the surface unless they really take the time to look.

Hey, I have a quick question...

I hate the phrase "I have a quick question". What the hell does this mean? Are you going to ask me the question really quickly? This might be a problem as you might ask it too quickly and I won't understand and might have to ask you to repeat it and that would nullify any semblance of being a quick question. Or, maybe you are looking for a quick answer. Something that requires no more than a yes or no. But are you telling me beforehand that it is a quick question in order to keep me from giving more information than yes or no? Perhaps it is a question relating to actual speed. For example, I have a quick question. How fast have you ever driven in a car? But, were I to answer with say 25 mph, then it would not be a quick question. Or, maybe you are interested in Nestle Quik. But that would be a Quik question.
Stop prefacing questions with "I have a quick question." You already took up too much of my time just stating that.

Rubberneckers

There is nothing that gets me more riled up than sitting in traffic because some punks in the cars ahead feel this urge to stare at an accident that is on the side of the road, or worse yet, on the other side of the road. Move along, people. They don't need you staring. Argh! It is mind boggling to me that I sat in traffic for over an hour one time because the people on my side of the divided highway had to stop to stare at a completely tame (I won't even use the word accident) incident that had happened on the other side of the DIVIDED highway. So, God bless the good people of the Massachusetts Highway Department. They are putting up screens to block the damn rubberneckers view of accidents. Now, if you don't mind... DRIVE!

Bug's poetry corner

I warned you! This is from sometime in 1995 or so... I don't know. I just kind of liked it. What do you think?

There is this movement in the sky
a little flurry that catches my eye
and while I stare mesmerized
slowly falls away my disguise.
I stand naked in the night
rooted to the ground by a little light.
I stare in awe and not in fright.
It takes away my blindness, restores my sight.
The loud clanging of a bell
The skies light is quelled
dropping me back into Hell
returning me to my empty shell.
Like Adam and Eve, after the apple they shared
I look at myself, see that I'm bare
and with shame and sorrow, I suddenly care.

Throwing stuff out

I am trying to clean my house. You know, the actual elbow grease kind of cleaning where you have to take everything off of shelves to dust and move furniture to clean properly. As I move things around, I realize that I have way too much crap. I think I am super sentimental and hold on to things because the person who gave it to me means so much to me. But that person is not going to mean any less to me just because I don't keep the trinket forever, right? Something snapped and I have been tossing stuff left and right. Ideally I would have all empty shelves. I don't... and probably never will. (Can't kill the packrat entirely.) But I do have at least three new empty shelves and I have only just begun. My trash people are going to hate me. And now I have to decide whether to burden my church with the stuff that I want to donate or Goodwill.
You know, the people that intrigue me the most are the ones that could toss their belongings into a backpack and go off into the world. I would love to be able to do that, only they don't make a backpack big enough.
I will give myself credit, though. I went through all my old notebooks and tore out all my poems, and stories that I wanted to keep and got rid of the rest. So forgive me if you find a sappy poem from my younger days on this page in the coming days.
I am trying to let go, but some things are just a part of me and so I guess I will never have an empty bookshelf. But rereading that makes me realize that that is not necessarily a bad thing.