Ah Bugger

The vapid utterings of a neurotic mind.

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Location: DC, United States

I ain't too proud to bug.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Rest in peace, Gini.

I don’t think that I ever misunderstood death. How do I qualify that statement? I guess I always understood that it is part of the life cycle. We are born, we live, we die. The first person close to me to die was my grandfather. He died when I was eight and I felt like he came to me in dreams. I probably just dreamed about him. I think he was ready to go. He’d had enough of this world and wanted to see the next one. He was a pastor, after all and maybe his connection to God was just ready to be made in person.

We lost a lot of kids in school. My friend Aera Shin was hanged by her mother, along with her sister. Their father had left their mother and it denoted unquestionable loss of respect. They were immigrant Korean. So she hanged her daughters and she hanged herself. We, me and Aera, were just twelve years old. I remember looking at her in her coffin. She had pimples I had never seen in life. I learned later that the marks were petechiae caused by blood vessels that had burst in her face. She had Barbie dolls in her coffin. She was just a little girl.

My friend Barry Stunson was killed in a car accident. He was in high school and already had NBA scouts looking at him. This boy was smart and sweet. He used to help me chase down my dog Fred when he ran away (which occurred way too often and we never caught him). He had the world ahead of him.

My dad died a few years ago. He had Multiple Sclerosis and was fighting pneumonia for a couple of years. My whole family was together with him. He was so peaceful. I think he was actually looking forward to getting together with his twin brother who had died a few years before. I think he was excited about being freed of this prison his body had become. When he died it was okay. It was okay because he was a good man and he lived a good life and finally, FINALLY he could be free.

My point is that death is not something I don’t comprehend. I may not comprehend the timing, or the victim, but I understand the realities of the fact that people will die. I understand that it is not always in a manner that is acceptable or even comprehendible (which is a sort of double talk I am engaging in that I am simply going to ignore).

What I don’t understand is someone actively taking a life. I don’t understand this. Just a few days ago a coworker of a friend was murdered. She was a sweet, ditzy girl we all enjoyed teasing, occasionally. She was young and pretty, with long blonde hair and a strong affiliation to the church. I did not know her well, but we have shared plenty of happy hours and office events.

Murder has always been a plotline to me, or something that happened to people I did not know personally. Now I can’t help but worry who and how and why could something like this happen to someone like her?

What a world we live in. How can it ever be understandable to take someone’s life? How can it ever be justifiable? How dare these criminals walk the street amongst us? How is it possible for one person to decide to end the life of another.

Rest in peace, Gini.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Back home and finally posting again.

Hoo boy. Hello.

Gosh, you know when you have meant to do something and then you don't, for whatever reason, and it just gets harder and harder to do? That could be my life paraphrased.

I had all sorts of things to still tell you. In Myrtle Beach, after talking to you all day (seriously, I sat in the lobby of my Motel for hours, typing away), I decided to try the ocean one more time. I walked along the sand and met a woman who was fishing for a shark tooth in the sand. She was not having any luck. She and her husband were there from Indiana and as everyone else was, were wondering if they should stick it out for the hurricane, or go home. I ventured back into the water where I met two people in MB for a convention and we played in the waves for hours, until the sun went down. Some redneck kid from Pittsburgh came through, marked by a jellyfish attack on his upper arm. It was time to head in. But, the ocean redeemed itself and was fully enjoyable on my second go round that day. Though its stripping me of my clothes did not end AND I received two thorough brain washings thanks to some wicked waves shooting up my nose.

The next day I paid a million dollars to rent a jet ski and fly down the inter coastal waterway at 80 mph. You should have seen my face aflapping in the wind. The jet ski rental owner met me on my way back and took me to lunch. Then it was time to head to Raleigh, NC to visit another friend. I hate NC. I hit a deer there once; I saw a kid walking down the street in Fayettenam carrying a handgun; and I got a speeding ticket. (The speeding ticket was on this glorious day of jet skiing. Yep. Frack. That's two on this trip).

My friend and I went to Asheville to see the Vanderbilt home "Biltmore". Unbelievable. We rented headphones to get the audio tour. What a great plan for the museum. This way they can have tons of people milling about, but no one says a word. They just all turn their heads to look at the same thing at the same time. Unnerving.

I made my friend go see "House Bunny" with me. I love Anna Faris. I just recently watched "Smiley Face" with her in it. She is hilarious! After watching House Bunny, I thought, hmm, maybe I will work out 8 hours a day and never eat again. Her body is ridiculous.

Staying in Raleigh was fun because my pal's friends rock! But soon it was time to go. I wanted to visit Melissa, but she was out of town.

So yes, I am back home. I got back about two weeks ago and popped in on my friend Jen instead of going straight home.

Walking into my house was wild. I did not recognize the place. It was spotless. I forgot the extend to which I cleaned it. The amount of mail was outrageous. There in the midst was that damn ticket from California which I have paid for in the meantime. The NC was dropped due to faulty machinery or something.

So, I am sure you are chomping at the bit to know what I have been up to since my return. Well, a lot of sleeping in. Pathetic. I also had lunch with a friend, a day of margaritas with Laura, studying for the GRE's, visited with my brother and my cat, had an interview, and mostly, I painted my apartment. Good Lord that takes forever!!! I had to tape and tarp and spackle and sand and prime and paint. Gah. It is done as of three hours ago. I love the way it looks. I painted the walls a very soft yellow and the dining room got a splash of color. (As did I. I was scrubbing paint off of my entire body every night for a week!). I don't need to see the inside of a Home Depot again for a while.

So, I am home and still unemployed. So if ya'll wanna hang out, gimme a call. Oh, and if you know a place where I can get a great bookshelf/entertainment center in a medium-light wood. (Not pine or oak) (not Ikea, West Elm or Pottery Barn) Please let me know.

Thanks again to everyone I got to spend some time with along the way. I truly enjoyed myself. Thanks!!

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

News Talk Bug style

I listen to the news as I am driving down the street and there are only 3 things on people's minds these days. Casey Anthony; Hurricane(s) Gustav (Hanna, Ike and Josephine); and the 2008 Presidential election. I'm bored with it all. (sort of)

Casey Anthony is obviously guilty of killing her child. However she did it, be it an accident or not, she did it. The issue with her and the public is that she seems to be a sociopath and therefore does not react the way that a normal person would. People reporting on this case seem to be looking for a reaction, but sociopaths don't have the same moral code that regular people do.

The Hurricane is messing with my beach trip and I am bored with the political ramifications the storm and its' affect on New Orleans has. Besides, they never discuss the outlying destruction that Biloxi and Gulfport suffered during Katrina and Baton Rouge through Gustav. But most of all, the HURRICANE IS MESSING WITH MY BEACH TRIP!

This whole brouhaha with the Republican Vice Presidential candidate is dumb and boring. This is why I think that the President and VP should be voted for separately. I think also that it should not matter if the President is a Democrat and the VP a Republican (or whatever). They would keep each other in line. But keeping the two seats on individual tickets would keep us from ever having another VP like the one we have right now. (Cheney, right? Is he even still alive or are they pulling a "Weekend at Bernie's" thing on us?*).

* I stole this bit from some comedian I heard on XM

You must have seen her dancing in the sand.

I am a beach bunny.

That is all.

Just kidding. I am at the beach, but I am sitting inside the lobby of my Motel and typing to you guys because I am afeared of the beach. Okay, I have to admit that I have never been one that is super excited about the beach. Too many experiences with feet cut on shells, jellyfish stings, and wicked undertows that challenged my already challenged swimming abilities. This sends me off on a tangent (who me? on a tangent?). I was in the water with my brother and my friend Mark, when I felt something brush past my legs. We were at Nags Head and had seen shark pods earlier that morning. (Probably the eggs of a nurse shark or something). We were floating about on our rafts and I suddenly grabbed my raft and headed rapidly for shore. Once safely on dry land, I hollered to my companions "SHARK". Nice, huh? I am a save my own butt person first. Keep that in mind.

I loved being in the water when I was but a buglet. They used to have to physically remove me from the water when I was little. I had an indicator, much like the poking out device that is found on butterball turkeys - er...though nothing poked out of me. That would just be weird. My lips turned blue when I was in the cold water too long. This sends me off on another tangent about when I was teeny and my belly button turned blue. Seems my mother left me alone for a split second and the next thing she saw was an empty blue marker and a wee li'l girl with a bright blue belly button. Hmm, not much of story here, but when my mother tells it, it is rather hilarious. Unfortunately, she has many such stories about me and I would prefer that you all just stay away from her.

I got to Myrtle Beach yesterday and slathered myself in SPF 1,000,000 and put on my bikini. I had stopped by one of the ubiquitous beach stores to pay $6.99 for an already inflated raft. Yay! I also got some bright blue bahama shorts. I am now wearing them and looking rather fine (in the South Carolina/beach vacation/unwashed kind of way). Which leads me to yet another tangent when Marci , Angel and I went to Rehobeth and Marci and I decided it would be a great weekend to do no grooming at all, while Angel sat and primped for 4 hours straight. Again, guess you had to be there. It struck us (me and Marci) as ridiculously funny, while Angel was highly displeased with her consorts.

I got out the water yesterday and struggled against an extreme undertow. I tried bringing my raft out there, but the waves were breaking so far out that by the time I got the raft into the water after recovering from the previous wave, I would be pulled under and get tangled up in the raft's cords. Bah. So I deposited it on the beach and just attempted to hop the waves. That was fun.

Today, I got up and reslathered. I contemplated my bikinis because honestly, the ocean is a friend to the Girl's Gone Wild guy and keeps trying to tear my top off! Ocean Gone Wild! I hit the water newly ambitious, raft dragging behind me. Smack! Bikini up... raft gone... me on my bottom fumbling for everything at once. Oh, who am I kidding? When I noticed the assault, I righted my clothing and slapped the water for being fresh. Then as I attempted to regain my footing the ocean came right back at me, tugged me down, and slapped me in the face. EXCUSE ME! So I got out. I grabbed the raft and sat on the sand for a bit. After a few minutes, I gathered my resolve (once again) and entered the ocean alone (without the raft). The sand is gone! Gone! Replaced with rough pieces of broken shell. What the..? It seems that the hurricane is not only making the waves choppier and the ocean sassier, but all the shells of the entire ocean have been placed at my feet. Is it a gift? Is it a punishment? Is the ocean telling me to be nice or it will cut me? (I'll cut you!) I dunno, but I gave up. That's why I am sitting here talking to you.