Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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Location: DC, United States

I ain't too proud to bug.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

I watched War of the Worlds

I kept waiting for them to get blown up and after a while, found myself to be rather disappointed.

My favorite reading material...

My mother tells fantastic tales of her life. Especially of her childhood, growing up in Germany. We try to go to brunch together once a week and I am usually granted a great saga. I love to hear these stories. My mother grew up during a war, she was the feisty oldest kid of a pastor in a small town where everyone knew your every step. She came to the States for college, lived in Switzerland, (dated a count...I think he was a count.)In any case, I believe she might be the most interesting person I have ever met. So imagine my delight when she told me tonight that she was actually writing down her memoirs. I am so ecstatic that I will get to have these stories forever and ever. Besides, she writes so well that you almost feel like you are reliving it with her. Hmm, my next step will be to get her to put it on tape.
Danke Mami! Deine Geschichten sind einfach toll!

eh Boo-Boo, want a pickanick basket?

I went to our company picnic today. I will admit it was was mostly in hopes of winning one of the door prizes. They give out $500 Amex gift cards. Yeah, that sounds good to me. But alas, it did not go to me. We'll see if I ever attend a picnic again. Actually, we got a cooler and some pretty cool take home stuff and it's always fun to see people you only ever see in suits, in shorts.
But I realized that Boy! is my little clock ticking away. I think the only people I talked to were people with little kids. My friend's two year old grabbed me by the hand and we went and examined the pond and played with ants and sticks. That was exceptionally cool, because he is extraordinarily shy.
Then came the people who, finding out I am single, went on the blind date brigade.
Her: Oh Buggie, you are such a catch (thank you!). We have to find a guy for you.
Me: Uh, Thanks. Um, but... (looking around frantically)
Her: (deep in thought) What about my friend... He is super. (Mazillion questions..)
Other people: Whatchu guys talking about?
Her: finding a man for Buggie.
Them: you don't have a man?
Me: (Dying a thousand deaths)
Them & her: (Brainstorming)
Someone else: Hey, Buggie. your boss is here with his grandson.
Me: Yay! Another baby! Buggie out! (Look Marci, I copied you.)(then I bounded happily across the lawn. Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty, I'm free at last.)

No blind dates, please. I think it is so sweet that people think highly enough of me to want to hook me up with their friends, but then the pressure is on! Because not only is it a possibility of not liking the guy, or him not liking me, but also of letting those friends down.

You know who does love me? Bugs. But I do not love them. They bite me and I swell to obscene proportions. Hello bugs?!? I AM YOUR LEADER. Stop biting me.

Friday, July 29, 2005

Hi!

I was leaving work today and a woman with a little girl in the backseat drove by me. The little girl raised her hand in a wave to me and without thought, I waved back. It filled me with such a flush of pleasure that all the way home, I contemplated the sweetness of a smile, wave or any sort of gesture that demonstrates that you are being recognized and appreciated for the simple reason of being there.
Sometimes, when I am out by myself, I become so self contained (self conscious?) that I have a hard time letting go of myself enough to appreciate others with a smile or a nod. I know this partially due to bad experiences. But, when someone smiles at me, someone who has no intention behind that smile other than to smile, I sometimes am not programmed properly to respond in turn. But still, that smile will infect me so the next person I see will receive one. I am certain that it is a domino effect.
I think we should take those extra little steps to take care of the people who live in our world. I think that a smile from a stranger is a simple step to keep from becoming completely isolated for people who don't get enough social interaction. Imagine feeling completely invisible, a smile could re-open doors of hope for you. (Of course I am saying this with the concept in mind that the person is of sound mind. Not scary stalker material.)
On the scary stalker note: Seriously people. Just because someone talks to you does not open a door for obsessiveness. (Just a side note. Nothing that affects me. Just felt an obligation to touch on this subject as I was attempting to get people to take a chance with their fellow mankind. But not at a risk of their own safety.)

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Live now or forever hold your peace

Today, today. Oh, glorious day. My new laptop and I are finally together. It's weird to type on this thing. Boy, laptops sure are different. I got the tiniest, cutest little mouse as well. It is literally an inch by two inches. CUTE!
I took my new laptop to Starbucks to weasel some of their wi-fi and alas, coffee in hand, 'puter turned on, you have to have T-Mobile. Well, I can't stand people asking me "where I'm at". I find it to be the worst abuse of the English language, and therefore will never subscribe to their service. But, I did find myself with coffee in hand, decaf.. (I know! But I am already having enough trouble sleeping lately.) and read the cup. The sage words coming from Jill Scott, the singer. I really liked what she said and therefore I am going to quote my Starbucks coffee cup.

Embrace this right now life while it's dripping, while the flavors are excellently woesome. Take your bites with bravery and boldness since the learning and the growing are here in these times, these exact right nows. Capture these times. Hold and kiss them because it will soon be very different. - Jill Scott
It's exactly what I was telling a friend to do earlier today. And it is something I want to do. Seize today! Capture it! In all the misery and pain and joy and laughter.. there is so much to be taken out of every experience. I implore everyone to take every chance and really live. I'd much rather rub my bruised arse because of something I have done than have everyone admire my unblemished life when I am 80 and horribly hollow for lack of any substance inside of myself. Is making a mistake now better than a life of regret? I think so.
This is my first post through my new Dell (and my larcenous use of my neighbor's wireless internet. Thank you!)

Sunday, July 24, 2005

I lay a stone on the graves of each person who died in the Holocaust.

I watched Europa, Europa today. It's about a Jewish boy who gets separated from his family and ends up in a Polish orphanage. He is originally from Germany, and his family moved to Poland to evade the war. He tells German soldiers that he is a pure-blood German who lost his parents and finds himself in a Hitler Youth school. All this time, he is desperately hiding his identity as Jew. Obviously he has to deny his true race in order to survive. But it really got me thinking. So many people have such strong ties to their identity, so much so that they would never turn their backs on it. So much that they would sacrifice their lives before ever denouncing their faith. While this is a remarkable show of strength of character, what good does it do? Yet, does one demonstrate themself to be a coward if one hides behind a false identity to survive? Obviously, the true cowards in WWII were the ones who relished the opportunity for absolute power and cruelty behind the name of The Fuehrer.
Like I have said before, my mother grew up in Germany during WWII. She had an uncle that was vehemently against the Nazi movement. So much so that he died because of it. I wonder, had I been an adult in Germany during that time, would I have been a cruel person? Would I have gone with the flow? Or would I have been a strong person who stood up for my beliefs regardless of my own personal safety? What if I was Jewish? How would I have been then? Would I have given up and let myself die? Or would I have fought with every fiber of my being? I have read so many books of bravery and strength. The Franks, for example, and the people who helped them. Perhaps even Oscar Schindler, who saved over 1000 lives during a time where to do so was the most terrifying prospect one could imagine. Everyone one of the survivors of the war is living demonstration of their own courage and strength.
A time like the Holocaust gave brave people a chance to be truly brave and cruel people a venue to act out their most heinous desires. Someone like Ilse Koch, the "Bitch of Buchenwald" who found pleasure in making things out of human skin and other parts of the human body, would not have had as acceptable an outlet to act out her cruel fantasies if not for her role in the SS.
I don't think that I am a cruel person. I also am fairly confident in my convictions. Yet I hope to never be put to the test to find what kind of person I truly am. At least not under circumstances like these. Because I am terrified in the knowledge that I have absolutely no idea of what kind of person I would be.