Words Have Meanings - Pay Attention! or My Latest Greatest Annoyance!

 I posted this in a note on facebook and they removed it, that's when I remembered, I have a blog!  lol

 I have been reading a lot of news items from both South Africa and Russia where the term "corrective rape" has been used to describe the rape of a known lesbian.  I have something to say about this.

  I'm sure some sick, twisted, ignorant, soul-sucking rapist may think that he is helping to enlighten his victim, or "pupil", righting a wrong in some way through his abuse, but rape is the most humiliating, damaging, violent attack you can perpetrate on a woman.  If the woman happens to be lesbian, perhaps even more so, yet after she picks herself up and brushes herself off, I'm sure that in zero percent of cases, she slaps her hand to her forehead and exclaims, "So that's what I've been missing!  I've wasted all those years!"

  I would like to see journalists start using appropriate adjectives when describing rape, such as brutal or vicious.  It is not until the rapist is thrown in prison and his cellmate Buba, thinks he's purdy, that the corrective rape occurs!

  Thanks for reading

I Thought It Was TRUE Love!

  When I met the woman I am now married to, three years ago this month, and fell head over heels in love with her, I thought I had finally found true love.  I was right!

I have been living in England with my wife and our two fur-babies, Winston and Frodo, for 15 months now and I have not adapted well.   Things are small here, really small, a 4' x 8' room in the U.S. is a walk in closet, here it's a bedroom, or if you're living high, an office!  Cars are smaller, roads are narrower, parking spaces are tiny.  Neighbors practically live on top of each other and everyone hangs out their clothes.  

I have great disdain for washing lines, especially one that wants to stretch across my tiny garden.  The plumbing is ancient, separate hot and cold in the kitchen sink!  The cottage where we live has a tiny kitchen.  It's what I like to call a one-cabinet-kitchen, for obvious reasons.  All the appliances are half the size I'm used to except the toaster, a slice of bread seems to be the same everywhere you go.  

I don't have a car here, but "we" do and my wife needs it to get to her job which is far away.  I was able to drive it for the first year, but now I need to take the driving test here, and pass to get a British driving license in order to be legal and insured.  I've been driving and had my own vehicle since I was old enough to drive.  It's a huge lifestyle change to lose that ability and freedom.

Needless to say, I complain and grouse a lot about almost everything, and my wife reacts by doing everything in her power to make me happy, get me what I need, fix all that she can.  She takes me where I need or want to go without complaint.  She brings me flowers, and brags about me to all her friends.  She is everything I'd hoped she'd be and more.  I am miserably the happiest woman on earth!  She puts up with a lot and I owe her so much more than constant whingeing.

There are a lot of good things here too, but my gorgeous bride takes the cake!

Our "Abusive" Link

   It was recently brought to my attention that our facebook link, the one that includes our website address for donations towards my travel expenses to England, was reported as abusive by an empty headed socially inept retard!  This sterling individual does not have the brains god gave a tick, or they would have been aware that they could simply hide our posts from the feed by hitting the confusingly named "hide" button when accosted by our irritating and annoying link.
  The part that gets us, is we stopped playing Mafia Wars and got rid of all the people we thought we didn't know, or didn't consider "friends".  Oopsie, guess one or both of us missed one discrete, hateful, malicious, foul smelling, ugly bedraggled slag!   We request that the scum sucking oxygen thief please come forward whenever you are finished ridding the world of nasty emboldened homosexuals in need of help, so that we may treat you with the appropriate level of contempt.  We would like to present you with a plaque for your tireless efforts in proving yourself to be a colossal thundering fucknugget!  If you lack the moral fiber to take ownership of your handiwork, at least have the decency, and I know that's asking a lot, to remove us as friends, and go forth in short jerky movements.

People Can Surprise You!

Lately I've had some rather heated interactions with strangers... I know I'm frustrated and stressed out, but I wondered what I'm putting out into the universe to deserve the kind of reactions I've been getting.

I was at a quick stop type gas station recently, and when I went to pay at the pump, I was asked to swallow a 45 cent "convenience" fee on top of paying for the liquid gold I was about to pump. I was not impressed, but decided to authorize the charge anyway. I chose my grade, pulled the trigger and nothing came out. Was I supposed to lift a handle, push another button, do the hokey-pokey?...I could not find anything I'd missed, but still, no gas.

I walked across the parking lot and inside. I complained to one of the clerks behind the counter that the gas wouldn't pump, and I felt I should be reimbursed my "convenience" fee, since coming inside to pay, was what I'd paid to avoid having to do!

He was very condescending, and said he'd come out to see what was wrong, so I don't need to get all upset over nothing. He repressed the button, inserted the pump, squeezed the trigger and the gas started to flow. "See, nothing wrong. You were all upset over nothing. You need to calm down." Telling me to calm down, has the same effect as setting my hair on fire. He started to walk away and I pulled the trigger...nothing.

"So, what's wrong now?" I said, "Did I hurt it's feelings?"

He came back tried again, and this time it didn't work for him either. "Nothing...right? Can you at least admit that there is something wrong with this pump, and that charging me for a convenience I did not get is wrong?" I chided.

"You can't go around getting ALL upset at people just because you're having a bad day!" he sneered as he fiddled frantically with the trigger. The gas started to flow once again. "There!" his snotty tone rang out, "I'm not here to pump your gas!" He began to storm away again.

Once again, I attempted to resume pumping gas, and once again the pump did not work. "Clearly it's broken" I shouted after him, he was a good 30 feet away from me now. "I'd like my convenience fee back!"

He wheeled around just outside the door of the store, and began to yell at me from across the parking lot about how I'm a bitch and should take my business elsewhere etc. etc. Everyone at all three islands had now stopped what they were doing, and were looking and listening to him, and me. I hung up the pump, started the bike, and rode off, all while he was still yelling.

Then, about a week later: I had been parking my truck a few streets away for about a week, until I had the money to make a payment, and call the bank to set it up. It was "Out for repossession" and losing it would completely hobble any ability I have to make money. I found a place that was discrete and not in front of anyone's house. It was beside a fence, and I was still using it, but I had to make a short bike ride to and from the truck when I did. It's not an old broken down clunker, it's in very good condition, but it is large. One day, I went to go get it, I was putting my bike in the back, when the woman who lives across the street from where I was parking it, drove up unrolled her window and said, "You've been dumping your truck here in front of my house, and you have Massachusetts plates, and they're expired, so I called the police, and they're going to come give you a ticket."

I didn't realize the tags has expired, but I replied, "Where do you live? Over there?" I pointed to where I knew she lived. "Yes" she snapped back.

"And you own this property over here too?" I inquired.

"No, but you've been dumping your truck here, and I reported you!" She said so snottily, I almost offered her a tissue.

"Well, that was nice of you." I replied. "You have a great day!" I said with more sarcasm than is allowed by law.

"I reported you!" she regurgitated. She pulled away, and I, hoping she was looking in the rear view, flipped her off.

I left upset and feeling like if this is how my day was going to be, I might as well just go back to bed. I began to think about what would have happened if the police had gotten to the truck before I did. They would have impounded it. I would not have been able to afford getting it out of impound, as I'd just given all the money I had to the bank the day before, so they would stop wanting to take it back from me. I would have been out the payment, and still not had a vehicle. I would not have been able to deliver the furniture I'd been working on for weeks, and would have had no way to get materials for another project. All I could think about was what a fecking busy-body ball-busting bitch she was! How was my truck parked across the street hurting her? How great must her life be, that that is all she has to worry about? But then I thought, how empty and crappy her life must be that she has to create drama, and try to hurt others to make herself feel better, and I decided that feeling sorry for her was more appropriate.

Anyway, after having some rough interactions and losing a measure of fondness and respect for my fellow humans, troubled by what an ugly place the world has become, I created a website to shamelessly beg for help in my quest to get to the one human I hope to grow old with, and much my surprise and delight, people have regained my faith. People I have never met in person, and a few that I have, have seen fit to contribute to the noble cause of helping two people who love one another overcome financial obstacles, and start their lives together. We have had the website up for less than 48 hours, and have already made $128.00, 9% of our goal! I am so glad that I decided to give people the opportunity to shine. What has really been surprising is that the people who have the least, are the ones who've been giving the most! It's an amazing phenomenon! I'm not one for asking for help, and it does not come naturally, or comfortably to me, but for some things, it's worth going outside your comfort zone.

If you would like to track our progress, or make a donation, I have put a link up in the sidebar! If you'd like to check out the website, go to ( http://gettracytocaroline.weebly.com ) I ask you to give if you can, and only what is comfortable for you. At this point we've had 21o unique visitors to the website, and if everyone who visited had given just $1.00, we'd be almost double where we are. We appreciate any gift, and will undoubtedly send wedding invitations to all donors! If we hit the lotto, we'll send plane tickets too!

The REAL Letter to Ellen...

I had to condense my original letter which was pretty nice, down to 1500 words or fewer, that includes spaces! So...Here is the abridged version that I actually did send to Ellen today. There was a "Dear Ellen" at the top, but I had to cut it! LOL

Four years ago, I had it all. When the economy went down it took me with it, my home, my business, everything. Since then, I have fallen in love and become engaged to a wonderful woman, Caroline. She lives in England, and I am in California. She can’t live here legally, but I can go there. I am working hard to make that happen, and although things are tough, I have received a lot of help from my friends.

Elizabeth has let me live in her home, and sacrificed half her garage to let me have a work-shop for the past year and a half RENT FREE, and I feel my debt to her is enormous. I often think “there but for the grace of god go I” when I see homeless people.

Tauni spent $600 on veterinary care for my dog Winston, to get him what he needs to be able to travel to the UK without being quarantined for 6 months. She has also hired me to do some work for her, and insisted on paying when I’d have done it for nothing.

Faye and Sarah have sent me $200 American cash, through the post from England so that I could get my passport application in, and I never asked them for a thing. They are both currently unemployed, and with two kids, six cats, and a dog, it might as well have been $2000!

Even though my life is really hard right now, between Caroline, and my friends, I have never felt so lucky! I am going to find a way to get to Caroline, and marry her, but if you could help me thank the people who’ve given so much to help me, it would be incredible!

Kindest regards, Tracy

The 5th C

Some of you may recall, or may have to go back and read my post about The Four C's. These were determined by a very happy long-term couple I know, as the key ingredients to a successful relationship. They are Communication, Compatibility, Chemistry and Comedy. I have met my match, and her name is Caroline.

It was exactly one year ago today that I met the woman with whom I plan to spend the rest of my life. Well, technically we didn't really meet. We had been interacting, checking each other out, looking through pictures, and flirting on facebook for a bit, when on this day, the 4th of August, we both decided we wanted something more. We began a simultaneous pursuit, we both seemed to feel this pull, or push, or some kind of force driving us toward each other. It was the beginning of the serious 'let's get to know each other' phase. I like to think that we both knew that the other was destined to become important in our lives.

Although we are having a hell of time merging our lives, it is a fight we are both fully invested in, and we will not stop until our goal of marrying, and living together full time, is achieved.

Our story: We met on facebook playing a game called Mafia Wars. We both joined a group that was created to help gay people who play MW meet and support one another. We were both fairly new to the game and were trying to invite as many people as we could to join our mafias, to try to reach the magic number of 501. I noticed her profile picture, and went to her page to check her out. She was definitely cute, and her status was "in a relationship". Awww.... too bad.

A few weeks later, she posted pictures of a new tattoo she'd gotten, a tramp stamp, my favorite! She took the photo in a mirror, in her underwear, so you could see the tatt. I clicked on the picture, again drawn to the eye candy...I clicked through her photos, she was so my type! Then I got to her profile, and her status had changed to "single". My heart skipped a beat. I didn't think about the fact that she lived in another country and we had an ocean between us. I immediately went back to the picture of the tattoo and the adorable butt, and left a comment about how nice it was, and how I liked the tattoo as well. There was a period of flirting that followed, and she seemed very keen on returning my attention. I had started a second account, so I flirted with that one too, and even though I hadn't tried to hide the fact that both were me, she didn't seem to realize it at first, and she was not as flirtatious with the other me, which made the real me pretty happy. Do you follow?

Finally the day arrived that we began to inbox, and exchanged emails and began the real process of getting to know each other better. Since then, we've laughed a lot, determined in person that our chemistry online was not limited to cyberspace, discovered how much we have in common, and that we can work through difficult issues. We've enjoyed over 623 Skype hours, 3419 emails 655 text messages, a bunch of IM's and phone calls, and here we are, more in love than ever! Happy Anniversary Baby!

The "Funny" Thing Is...

About five years ago, I made some major life changes. I quit my job with a company I'd been with for nine years, ended a relationship I'd been in for ten, sold my half of the house to my ex, and set off to the other side (the wrong side) of the country to start a new life, and a new business doing what I love. I was filled with unflinching optimism. I would be successful. I would find a woman, we would fall in love, and live happily ever after.

I had a lot of money, and my plan was to remain flexible, and see where life would take me. I wanted very much after working for years and never having a *real vacation, to finally do something I've always wanted to do, like take an Olivia cruise, or adventure trip. The problem was I had no one to go with me. Some of my friends suggested I go alone, assuring me that lots of women did, and that I might meet someone on the trip.

"Yes, I'd meet someone...from Montana!" I'd reply. "I'm not getting into some long distance thing!"

I found lots of ways to squander my money, bought third row theater tickets on Broadway three days before a show, bought my sister a motorcycle, bought myself a cool little sports car. A neat trailer for the trip across the country etc. The list goes on.

Those of you who read my blog know that things did not turn out the way I'd planned, as they rarely do. The funny thing is, now I'm living back in the house I no longer own part of, and I am in love with someone who lives in another country. See how I stuck to my guns on that long distance thing? But the real kicker is the money! I now have a dog that I rescued, who needs ACL surgery, which I can't afford. I need money for a passport, a visa, a plane ticket for both me and my dog. Money for all the medical he needs so he won't be quarantined, and enough to get my bankruptcy filed, so I don't have to pay the bank for the house I couldn't afford to keep. I owe my ex, and very good friend, an untold amount for letting me live with her rent free for a year and a half. I barely make my truck payment, and insurance, and phone each month, and was at the Coin Star Machine with my piggy bank just last week, so I could eat.

My girlfriend, bless her heart, has sent me a few bucks here and there when I'm in a real pinch, and she has also managed to save money that we'll need for a down-payment and first month on whatever place we find to live in, once I get to England.

The worst part of it all came Monday, when my sweetheart collapsed at work and was out cold for at least 15 minutes. She was rushed to the hospital, where they told her she had a migraine and sent her home, even though she has a history that includes a brain hemorrhage. They didn't do a scan because they don't give a rat's ass, and we can't make them care. She has used up her yearly allocation of privatized care with a shoulder injury, so now we need money to make sure she's alright, and can live until next year's insurance kicks in.

We are trapped apart from each other until I can sell my tools and whatever else I have left. I can't help her, or myself. I am cursed with hindsight, and spend the days agonizing over all the careless ways I threw my money around, like it was inexhaustible.

I guess there really IS no funny part! Sorry.

*real vacation: One you don't spend at home working, or going to visit family.

Troubling Song Lyrics...

Okay, So this is a cute song in a bubble gum poppy dance club kind of way, but if you listen to the lyrics, there is one line that is beyond explanation: "But we kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger"

Jagger does rhyme with swagger, I get it.... But seriously? If you saw a guy that looked like Mick Jagger, but was definitely NOT Mick Jagger, in say...a bowling alley or something, that would be a good thing? I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but I think even Mick Jagger knows if he wasn't a rich and famous rock star, he'd be paying for sex, or desperately hoping to get some Carny drunk enough to do him just before she vomits and passes out.

For Cody

Cody Steven Smartassbian: Jan 5, 1996 - May 14, 2010

Cody was an adorable pup who stole my heart, and after an hour or so of begging and pleading, came to live with me and his other, more reluctant at first, mother. Cody was smart and was house-trained in record time, but his puppy-hood was not without the occasional snag. There was the sofa he ate, and the fact that he liked to eat his own poo. We heard that if we sprinkled cayenne pepper on his poo, it would break him of the habit, however it only succeeded in developing his taste for spicy food.

Cody was an adventurer, going on countless hikes, rock climbing jaunts, cross country skiing, and camping trips. He even went down the rapids in a two-man kayak. He kayaked the waters of Lake Tahoe and traversed many trails in the Tahoe National Forest among other places. He lived on both coasts. He had an amazing sense of direction and smell, and could always take you back to the starting point or the car, no matter how lost you thought you were.

When visiting the various dog parks in the LA area as a young dog, Cody felt compelled to visit every person at the park. He loved people. He was only interested in playing with the dogs that could surely kill him in an instant! He would get in the car with any stranger, and was lucky enough to be petted by Melissa Etheridge.

When I got upset about something, or lost my temper, making most everyone and everything around me, want to get away, Cody always came to me...wondering what was wrong. This had the strangest calming effect on me, that no person could have ever had.

Cody was a clean dog, choosing to walk around mud, not through it. He loved cheese and cheese popcorn. He loved to chase bunnies, and actually caught one once, much to my dismay. He never bit anyone, or got into a fight with another animal. He could, and would, remove the squeaker from a new toy with surgical precision with the first 5 minutes of ownership. He was well behaved, and once trained, no longer needed to be kept on a leash. He loved to have his back end just above his tail scratched, and would let you pet his head, only to reposition himself under you hand, until you were scratching his butt.

Full grown he weighed 34 pounds. People often said he looked like a Dingo. The kind that ate your baby. Cody was a wonderful companion, and an easy dog to care for and love. He developed a tumor in March which grew from the size of a marble to the size of large grapefruit in about 8 weeks. This eventually grew to impede his ability to chew and was encroaching on his ability to breathe. Today, his other mother and I took him to the vet and held him as we watched his life end with a minimum of discomfort to him.

Cody will be missed.

Olympic Criticism

I think there should be an Olympics for criticism. I have lots of it! The one thing that is sticking in my craw at the moment, is the female figure skaters. Not that they aren't wonderful, they are, but the costumes are, for lack of a better word, repugnant!

Skating outfits have always been a little "off". But please, with all the attention to detail in their routines, is it too much to expect their legs to match their arms? What is with the skin tone on these outfits? The legs are always 4 shades darker than the torso and arms, and I don't understand why. To say nothing of the ridiculous frilly skirts that spend all kinds of time flying up over their butts, and distracting everyone from the actual skating.

The skaters train hard and have gorgeous bodies. The lines they make while skating are captivating, and even more so if you can actually see them! That's why the men are so much fun to watch. There was one woman in the pairs skating that wore a suit that really showed her lines and made her fun to watch. I for one would love to see a shift in women's skating to this type of outfit. If this isn't the future of women's figure skating, I do hope they'll at least think about making their bodies appear to belong to one person! So I can stop worrying that the bottom half will take off in a different direction from the top!

Surely this is a gold medal criticism, and they will be playing my song when I decide which country I want to represent. The place where I was born, or the place I'm going because they haven't made laws based on letting me know I'm not worthy of the same civil rights as my heterosexual superiors, but I can still enjoy paying the same amount of taxes just the same! Hmmm....

Stray Thoughts

Christmas is over, and the new year is nearly upon us. I spent this Christmas enjoying the hospitality of friends, as I am thousands of miles from my family. I had a much better time than I expected to have at both celebrations I attended, but what stuck with me was a conversation I didn't have with a very nice man, and why.

Is it just me or does everyone wonder why some people seem to refuse to curb their errant hair? If there is one thing I cannot stand to see its long flowing nose hair. The other things are ear hair that seems to be doubling as a wind sock, or eyebrow hairs several inches long... Really people, get a grip! Are you really that lazy, or just oblivious? Renegade hairs have always been a favorite pet peeve of mine. As far as your body hair goes, do what you like if I don't have to see it. Your head however is in the public eye.

The guy I was busy not listening to in the kitchen was blathering on about something or other, while I couldn't seem to pull my focus from his nose which had long straggly hairs on the bridge. He was so close to it with his razor only hours ago, yet there it was. As he spoke, I wondered if he felt it was a positive feature, or if he was afraid having a nose free of hair would make people regard him as effeminate, or possibly he'd be swamped by people asking if he was a swimmer. The other thought burrowing through my brain like an ambition drunk tequila worm was, How is that hair not in his field of vision? I know when I have even just a little flake of dead skin on my nose I can see it. This clump of unruliness must have had the effect of making everyone look as if they are sitting in a tuft of hair.

I began to wonder if its just me and my progressively pronounced OCD, or if it's a mystery to others as well. Then I remembered working with a guy almost twenty years ago, who had facial hair that grew clear up to his eyes, but he stopped shaving at the usual beard area, and let the hair above that flourish, as if someone had made him a template to follow years ago, and told him never to go outside those lines. That reminded me, I've always been this way. To the all the people who feel they should not disturb god's work, and let their hair grow wild and free, chances are good, I'm not listening to a word you say! Happy New Year!

My Blood Boilith Over...

The Green Card: How to get one. I thought the obvious solution was marriage. I was unhappy about the prospect of leaving California, but willing to make the sacrifice to be with the woman I love. I did some research and found this!

"Although gay marriage is legal in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Iowa, Vermont and New Hampshire starting Jan 1st of 2010, you are not allowed to sponsor a spouse for a green card unless they are of the opposite sex. "

Really? Is "WTF?" the proper response to that? I don't know how to react, I find I'm filled with rage! Is it just me?

I have to wonder why my girlfriend and I could live happily ever after quite easily if only one of us had a penis. Other than one of us having a penis attached, the options are; She could get a temporary work visa if her job skills are in demand here. Well, since no one's job skills are in demand here, and I've been out of work for about a year now, I don't see that happening.

The other way is political asylum. She would not have to prove the government was guilty of mistreatment, only that they aren't protecting her from abuse, based on her orientation. Seems difficult.

There is one other way they don't mention, but you have to have money. It seems a green card like everything else is easily obtained by the rich. If she bought a large enough share in an American company they would automatically award her with a shiny green card! However if we had that much money, we'd be shopping for a villa in Tuscany, so...who cares!

I believe the percentage of taxes I pay should be in direct proportion to the percentage of rights I have in this country. Why the fuck should my taxes be subsidizing a marriage tax break for people enjoying the rights I can't have?

This whole thing just seems ridiculous to me! *Storms off in a huff! *

A Letter To Ellen...(First Draft)

Dear Ellen,

You don't me, but I know you. I have fallen on hard times, but that's not new or unusual these days. I write because I have a dream, and I need your help making it a reality.

Some Background: About five years ago, I resigned from my corporate career to start my own business. I am an artist, and I'd finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, or at least narrowed it down. I started my home remodeling business, but designing and building custom furniture, both free standing and built-ins was my passion. I moved from California to New England, where I'm from originally, because I had a big job there to start off with. I bought a house and built a workshop. Things started off pretty well. I got lots of referral business and repeat business, and it looked like I was going to make it. I don't have to tell you what happened next. I had taken on too much debt, and business ground to a halt. I lived alone with my dogs, neither of them had a job! The good that came out of it was I got to move back to California! The not so good, my house went into foreclosure, I had to sell my flawless Indian Chief motorcycle, and I went into a deep depression. My life's savings including my 401K depleted.

The Present: I have been back in Sacramento looking for work since mid February, and aside from a little home-handyman stuff here and there, I've found nothing. That's not why I'm writing you.

The Dream: I'm writing you because after 48 years of life, I have finally found the love of my life in Caroline Welsh. I have always believed in true love, and thought it must be out there somewhere, and now I know I was right. Here's where it gets sticky. Caroline lives in Cambridge, England. We are trying to figure out a way for her to come here and live with me. I would marry her, but it seems the people of California are not done with bigotry as the state pastime. For her part, she has quit smoking and uses the money she would have spent on cigarettes, on airfare to come visit me. We want to make a life and grow old together, is that asking too much?

The Shameless Begging: I know as influential as you are, there is still probably nothing you can do in an afternoon to make marriage legal for everyone, but maybe you could find a job for Caroline, so she can get her green card. She is currently a security guard for Huntsman International. She's good at guarding things, so maybe you need your studio, or parking space, or bike rack, guarded by a top notch guard. She's practically a ninja! A job for me as well, would be a bonus!

The Reality: Ellen, I know you'd help if you could, so please don't feel bad if you can't. I think you like helping others as much as I hate asking for help. If it were just me, I'd just take my lumps, but I'll do anything for the woman I love.

The Kissing Up: I'm a huge fan and have been ever since I first saw you do stand on HBO in 1989. You are so uplifting, and I watch you everyday while I get my exercise rowing on an erg. Keep up the good work!

Sincerely, Red Mojo

PS. Find a video I made for Caroline attached, with our heads photo-shopped onto your and Portia's bodies.

Does Everything Happen For A Reason?

Yes, yes it does!

No doubt some of you recall the post a couple months ago about hearts and women and opportunites thrown away or lost. At my lowest low I wrote a very funny, but very wise friend about my dilemma, and this was her reply:

"Just say no to anti-depressants. If you're torn between two women, neither one is the right one. Leave them both and drop the pills. This Dr Phil moment has been brought to you by Paxil."

I did not like hearing that at the time, but knew deep down that she probably was right. Since that time, I have gone off the anti-depressants and met the woman I intend to marry. This may be news to her, so baby, if you're reading this...wait! Come back!

Yes, I do believe that things happen for a reason. I do believe that my belief all these years in true love, was not in vane. I am happy! What I mean to say is... I AM HAPPY!!! I have found what I was beginning to think I never would. I am in love and it feels wonderful. I have no doubts, and no fear. Now all I need is a job.

Job Search...Ridiculous Add!

Here is the add as posted:

Painter needed for small 2 story home in north highlands. Home must be pressure washed, all loose paint scraped off with a wire brush and repainted. Exterior only. This is work for a licensed contractor. Flat price of $500 cash for the job. I will supply the body paint, trim paint, and $30 for tape, plastic, etc. All fascia, window and door trim to be trim paint. Must show proof of license and insurance.

• Location: North Highlands
• Compensation: $500 cash labor only flat rate
• Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
• Please, no phone calls about this job!
• Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

I am looking for work, and I do paint houses inside and out. Last summer for instance, I painted a 2 story historical home in Connecticut. I power washed, and scraped, and sanded, and primed, and painted, and had to hire a helper to schlep the scaffolding around with me, and feed the paint hose, etc. The customer bought the paint, I supplied the tape and plastic. And I charged him $10,000.00. That was a good price. This is joke! I responded to the add in this manner: Hi, I saw your add in Craigslist for a licensed insured contractor to supply all the labor to wash, scrape and paint your two story home. I think you might have forgotten a zero on the compensation, and may want to correct the add. If you have not forgotten a zero, I would be glad to do the work for you, but as well as supplying the paint and $30 for plastic and tape, you'll also need to supply the labor. If this is acceptable to you, please contact me regarding payment arrangements.

No Country For Old Men : A Review

(The fourth row: right right up right left up down down. )

This is not a timely review, just a review...mainly because, I feel like I have to say something!

Okay, if you haven't seen this movie yet, and you still think you want to, I am going to spoil the plot, but not the movie...that has been done for you already. I watched this film, mostly because of all the Oscar nominations, and found it...Unworthy!

Here is a partial write up by By Ilari Valbonesi on January 17th, 2008:

"The story begins when Llewelyn Moss (BROLIN) finds a pickup truck surrounded by a sentry of dead men. A load of heroin and two million dollars in cash are still in the back.
When Moss takes the money, he sets off a chain reaction of catastrophic violence that not even the law – in the person of aging, disillusioned Sheriff Bell (JONES) – can contain. As Moss tries to evade his pursuers – in particular a mysterious mastermind who flips coins for human lives (BARDEM) – the film simultaneously strips down the American crime drama and broadens its concerns to encompass themes as ancient as the Bible, and as bloodily contemporary as this morning’s headlines."

Well, maybe Ilari and I didn't watch the same movie. The money wasn't still in the back, it was really kinda far away from the whole mess of dead men, dogs and pick-ups.
The mysterious "mastermind" is a smart but awkward bad guy, often lugging around a giant cylinder of compressed air, who remains eerily calm during the whole thing, talking, killing, performing surgeory on himself...no emotion, no acting really, unless you count acting bored out of your skull like you're standing in line at the DMV, acting.

I must've blinked when the biblical themes came up, unless it related to how you're not supposed to kill...what's that one...?

The worst part was about three quarters of the way through the movie, the hero, gets killed. Maybe I like my movies too formulaic, but for me, when the hero dies, the story's over. But the movie went on. The sheriff discussed growing old, and the wife of the hero was killed, because the "mastermind" told the dead guy he'd do it, and didn't want to break his promise, I guess. Then the killer was in a car crash with someone who ran a red light, but paid a kid for his shirt, which he used to support his arm, and limped away before the police got there.
At the end the sheriff is telling his (I'm guessing here) wife, that he dreamt about his dad last night, he talked about the dreams...the end.

We are left not knowing what happened to the money. Wondering why the movie didn't end when it ended, only to go on to this disconnected stopping point. It almost felt like, they didn't really know how to end it, and someone working on a different movie walked by the room, and dropped some notes on the floor. Someone courteously retrieved them, but the rushing figure was already around the corner, out of sight, so they used what was there as the ending.

Maybe it was supposed to be more like real life then your typical movie, but I live in real life, and that's not why I watch movies.

The Small Print

This is an add for a dating site. This picture, under the heading: "Is She Out There?"

Wow!

Is She?

Good Add!

Makes me want to join!

Then you get to the part where it inevitably says something like, 'Not typical of the singles in your area' or ' Your results may vary' or 'hahahaha, gotcha!'

Oh well, good add though.

A little help please...

Came to blow the dust off my blog. I have neglected it terribly. It's not that I don't want to write, or share, I've just been a little hung up.

Without going into too much detail, let's just say that when you're "on the fence" between two women, if you take too long to jump to one side or the other, you might just slip and fall, impaling yourself there, and feeling the life slip from your body as you watch them both disappear from view. I hope that wasn't too metaphorical!

I find myself wading through the psychological minefield, of being unemployed for months, unable to pay my bills or support myself. Feeling like a burden, having a broken heart, in two places, and hating my own guts. Now might not be the best time to stop taking the anti-depressants.

I'm finding that I've grown sick of feeling sorry for myself, and sick of the impostor that seems to have inhabited my shell. I don't know who she is, and I don't like her! I want my life back!

I need the me that is in perpetual motion. The one that can't sit still. The one that moves mountains everyday, as a matter of course. The fearless one, who bets it all on herself. Where is she? The search has begun. I'll keep you posted!

Job Hunting vs. Starvation

I don't mind working at all, but looking for a job is the worst torture known to mankind. First, there's updating the resume. If you're fortunate, you have a copy of the last resume you used, and you can just add the newest information to it. If you're like me, and you're on your third laptop since the last job hunt, you have nothing, and have to start at the beginning.

How much job history do they need? They probably don't need to know I was a lifeguard when I was 18, but my job, before I started my own company, lasted ten years. So that's two jobs in the last fourteen years. But two jobs on your resume looks a little...empty. Should I stretch that information with lots of detail, or go further back into stuff that really doesn't apply? What does apply?

I've jumped from the middle of one ladder to the bottom of the next over and over again. I'm a fidgety employee. I've worn many hats. I pick things up quickly, and when I'm really good at them, I get bored and want to try something else. I've gone from waiting tables and tending bar, to soldiering, then electronics and computers. Then back to the restaurants as a cook, then Sous Chef, then back to electronics, and alarm systems. From installing alarms, to the Technical Manager of the Northwest Region for Honeywell. I quit that and started my own Home Remodeling business. It's as if my right and left brain have been fighting for total domination and it's a tie. So...what am I looking for?

It's hard to work for someone else, once you've been your own boss. It's hard to go from owner of the company, to grunt, so hard, I can't do it.
If I'm going to be at the bottom, it's got to be at something new, graphic design, real estate, or something else I'm interested in, but haven't done yet.

A dream job would be a location scout for the movies, or test driving Harley Davidsons right off the assembly line. A photo-journalist, or the quirky but likeable host of a DIY show, that becomes a household name and then makes tons of money endorsing Porter Cable or Delta tools. A very successful writer, who writes under a pseudonym and therefore, never does interviews or book signings...or what I was trying to do before the economy killed my dream, designing and building custom furniture. I had hoped to come up with a trademark signature. Something I could incorporate into all my pieces that told everyone that that was an original "RED MOJO" and one of a kind. Everyone who's anyone would want one, and I'd have a waiting list of clientele that read like the who's who of the Hollywood "in" crowd.

But, reality continues to ruin my life. I went onto some internet job sites to look for a job. I set up the parameters: Not willing to relocate, 0% travel, and typed in the keyword "remodel" I got a list of 100% matches that included, "Film extra" (stand in the background of films for $250 a day) and "Truck Driver" for some local trucking company. Now I might not be the brightest bulb on the tree, but wouldn't driving a truck include some sort of travel? Unless they want me to do donuts in the parking lot for eight hours a day...

Needless to say, it has been a frustrating process, but I'll keep plugging away, and just like trying to keep your big toe from pushing it's way through that hole in your sock...even if you walk funny, eventually it's going to happen.

A New Me (Just like the old me, but older)

With all that's gone on in my life recently, I have managed to pack on a few pounds. Depression is not helped by eating every comfort food in sight...but it feels like it will while you do it.
I love things like mac and cheese, fried egg sandwiches, potato chips, ice cream, and have you ever tried Otis Spunkmeyer Chocolate Chocolate Chip Muffins? Oh my!
After you eat these kinds of foods, you are full, but still feel empty, and the weight gain only makes you even more depressed...please pass the pizza.

I have been trying to fight the good fight, but it's hard. I let myself down constantly, making fitness promises, that I never keep. Tomorrow always seems like a great place to start!

Well the good news is, I started yesterday. Today is day two of my new life. Yes, I have managed to string two days together before, but this time...it's different. I am lucky enough to have this amazing friend in my life who has made fitness a science, and he is an amazing success story. I happened to email him and ask for the link to his website, which I had misplaced, explaining that I wanted to list it among the links of my online work-out group. He responded quickly, and asked me to call him as well. I did, and the conversation went something like this

Jimmy: How are you? What's going on?

Me: Oh, I'm just trying to get healthy. I'm kick starting my online work-out group, and want to put your link in there. I've been having a hard time making myself exercise even though I know I always feel better when I do.

Jimmy: What's stopping you?

Me: Maybe I just want my mood to match my situation, not sure.

Jimmy: Hmmm...that's possible. If you were gonna exercise, what would you do?

Me: Well, I prefer to do it outside. I love to hike up steep trails, and eventually run up them, but there are no mountains around here. I have to drive a ways to get to one. I also like to run, or bike, but I'm too out of shape, so it's power walking for now. If I stay inside, I use the rowing machine. I like that too.

Jimmy: What's the weather like today?

Me: Oh, its a beautiful day. I couldn't ask for better weather!

Jimmy: When you walk how far do you go?

Me: Two miles, is what I've been doing lately.

Jimmy: Two miles! Wow! That must feel great! Good for you!

Me: yeah...

Jimmy: Well doesn't it feel great when you do it?

Me: Yes, it does.

Jimmy: How much weight do you want to lose?

Me: A lot...

Jimmy: C'mon tell me, how much?

*I tell him.

Jimmy: Okay that's 2 pounds a weeks for X weeks! X weeks? That's nothing! That's X house payments, you know how fast those come! You can reach your goal in X weeks!!! Tomorrow, walk two miles, then get on the rowing machine for 15 minutes, and you'll feel terrific! I'll call you and see how it went okay?

Me: Okay Jimmy, thanks. I'll do it.

Jimmy: Oh, this is so exciting! Aren't you excited?!

Me: (sheepishly) Yes.

Jimmy: Okay! I'll talk to you tomorrow...

The thing that doesn't come across well here, is the excitement in his voice. He's so cute! Like Richard Simmons, only hot! I did do it, and he did call. He praised me, and encouraged me, and will call again today. He also has great nutritional advice on his site, which I am going to follow as closely as I can. I went shopping yesterday, and bought 'clean' food. I am keeping a food log, and he wants to go over it with me next week, and tweek it for me.

I had given up on ever looking like I used to look, and thought with age comes some extra weight, it's a given. But he's my age, and look at him! I am going for it! I want to be comfortable in the skin I'm in. I feel better already! Isn't it exciting?!