A little haiku

Chaos fills my view,
I tumble end over end,
A bicycle crash

What the cat dragged in...

So, I got up today thinking that it would be a pleasant day. That is, I thought that before I got up.

The first thing I noticed was that I had slept through all my alarms. I have four. So, I got up and began getting ready. I had a dinner date (not really a date, though) after work, so I thought I would wear my tightest jeans (mostly because my dog ate my belt) and this pretty blouse I've been saving.

I got ready and put on my pretty blouse and looked in the mirror... The blouse was two sizes too big. It looked like a painter's smock. The only other clean top I had was one of the two shirts I have that I call my "lesbian" shirts.

Because they make me look like a lesbian.

And it's black... what better, for a first "date"? My roommate, Anna, asked me to pick up some cat food, so I resolved to go to the store after work.

I was already over an hour behind schedule, but was almost out of gas, so I had to stop and get gas. Some people think a hurricane is about to hit, so there were lines at the gas stations, which is always fun. But I wouldn't have made it to work, so I waited in line.

I got to work nearly two hours late. I thought it wouldn't be a problem... My manager is short, so he can't really see over cubicle walls while seated, but he happened to be standing up when I came in. Darn. I had planned a conversation with him, but it wouldn't have gone well for me. Fortunately, he quickly forgot who I was and went back to staring at an empty trash can.

Managers, huh?

Anyway, so I got to my desk and was summoned to help people with some tricky cases for two hours, and didn't even get a chance to log into my computer before Luann announced it was lunchtime. Wow. So, I went to lunch with her, where I talked about my impending "date" that evening. She was so happy for me that I'm pretty sure she was already planning the wedding invitations in her

We thought we were doing well... slightly ahead of schedule, we were going to get back to work early, which is good for Luann, because some of the others on her team are mean to her if she takes a long lunch. She was so happy... and then when we got to her car we found a flat tire.

Apparently, in Luann's home culture, women aren't taught to change tires. I wasn't either, but I'm an engineer. So I started trying to change her tire, bemoaning the absense of Men of Valor in the 110-degree parking lot, when suddenly a Man of Valor came along and changed the tire for us. But I had already ruined my makeup and nail polish, and smelled like a sweat lodge, and my lesbian shirt was dirty, and my knees looked like I had been kneeling in a parking lot... not the image I wanted to portray.

We got back, and I was once again summoned to help others with their cases. It sucks to be so cool, sometimes. Anyway, I eventually managed to get about two thirds of my minimum daily workload worked before time to leave.

My original plan was to go straight to the rendezvous place, but now I had to take time to fix my makeup, get dirt out of my clothing, and comb my hair. I had managed to repaint my nails during the day, and they didn't look too bad from a distance.

So I barely made it to the coffee shop (we were meeting at a coffee shop) on time. Except.... there was no coffee shop. I was sure there had been a coffee shop right there, where I had left it. Like two years ago. I walked around a bit to see if I could find the coffee shop, and heard my named called from a night club's patio.

I knew that the coffee shop had been there. Apparetly, it mutated into a night club.

So, I was chatting with my "date"... everything was going alright, apart from my complete social ineptitude, until The Show started. Suddenly, our conversation was being interrupted by... you'll love this part... a drag show.

Now, I have nothing against a drag show... I had never seen one, actually... and I don't even have anything against the drag queens, drag kings and other drag persons who participate in them. But apparently my "date" was fascinated with the show. Hrm... how to save this moment... I took one look at the almost-illegally-short skirts worn by the drag queens and realized that I didn't stand a chance.

At some point, he announce, "Well, I should get home before my wife gets suspicious." WIFE?!?!?!?!?

Well, the show was over, we exchanged pleasantries and parted ways, and I headed home. I was pretty exhausted. I was aching, tired from hiding my pain and nausea from my "date", hungry, dirty, smelly, disillusioned, and did I mention tired? I got home, took off my shoes, locked the front door, stumbled into the living room, and collapsed face down onto the couch.

Anna said to me, "Did you pick up cat food?"

Birthday tribute - Jean

It was Ice Cream Day at work today, so I found myself idly wondering whether a person's choice between ice cream sandwiches and bomb pops was a reflection of his or her sexual orientation...

Think about it a minute...

Anyway, it occurred to me... It's also Jean's birthday. :-D So she gets to be today's victim...

Jean is an interesting individual. She's very intelligent, but not intellectual. This throws people off... the fact that she doesn't use big words and isn't obsessed over any of the usual geek/nerd/anorak things makes people think that she's not too bright, but her mind is every bit as sharp and active as any I've encountered. She just has a different way of expressing herself.

For example, she speaks in what I call "Jeanisms". This are words and phrases that make sense to Jean, and if you think about it, should make sense to you, too. I've heard others use some of them, but I'm pretty sure she said them first. These include:

• "Old Timer's Disease" (Alzheimer's)
• "ex-cape" (escape)
• "my brain was thinking" (I was thinking)
• "indulations" (the part of undulations that go into the material in question)
• "Tawnimono" (dogfood, from the Japanese "tabemono" for food, and the name of her dog, "Tawni")
• "Ashtray" (her nickname for me, because I'm allergic to cigarette smoke)
• "Hungry" (that country in Europe where I lost 20 pounds)
• and many more
  

They make sense, if you stop and think about it. She knows the correct spellings and pronunciations, but she speaks them as they come to her... through a filter where the word should sound like what it means.

Jean was born in New Jersey, but moved to the hick portion of Channelview, Texas as a small child. She was then raised by her NJ parents, but in a hick environment. This results in an interesting personality. First, her accent... She usually doesn't seem to have much of an accent, except for a few words ("Oh Ghoahd!", for example). That is, until she gets around her family, at which point, it's almost like being back in Hungary... I don't understand half of what's said.

Apparently, telepathy runs strongly in Jean's family, so when they're communicating amongst themselves, half of what they say is generalities... "what's-his-name" and "whadyacwallit" and so forth... And they all know what all the others are talking about. It's kinda creepy.

But as I said, she grew up amongst hicks... so she has some of that embedded, too. In fact, when she finds herself around horses, she completely falls into a stereotypical southern drawl. She doesn't even notice it. I one pointed it out to her, and for three days she couldn't speak. She would start to, and then forget how to form the words, and get lost in a morass of accents, and nothing would come out of her mouth. It was nice, until she got past it, and started speaking again.

But don't get me wrong... she's one of my most bestest friends. Odd, considering that she stole my husband (long story). And argues that she saw him first. And she stole my dog. But we all get along great. She's even in my will, but I haven't told her, because I'm trying to find ways to increase my lifespan.

I love to tease her about her sexual orientation. She's straight... obviously... and I know it... obviously... but between the horses and majoring Construction Technology in college (did you know there was a college degree for construction workers?) she somehow developed the reputation as a tiny (five feet tall) lesbian. And she earned that reputation. When I met her, she was the roughest, toughest little student at the college. I once saw her put a nail through her hand. She promptly got up, walked to a sink, pulled the nail out of her hand, rinsed off the hole, put on a Band-Aid® and went back to her hammering.

On another occasion, she was showing off her horse, an uncut Arabian stallion as compact as she was, and explaining that he had an attitude problem. She then climbed onto his back, and after a couple of seconds he started bucking. She flew about 20 feet in the air (not an exaggeration) and landed on her face. She got up onto hands and knees, shook her head, and then got up and walked to him, shouted his name (the Arabic word for "Satan"), and punched him. He backed away, wide-eyed, and she got back on and rode him for a while before folding him and putting him away. She later had a black eye, because she had landed on a rock the size of her fist.

Jean's knowledge is impressive, considering that she tries to hide it. When anyone of us is sick, she gets a phone call. She's always the first to treat a wound that doesn't require an emergency room. She's also the local consultant for animal-related health issues and runs an informal animal rescue out of her home and at her own expense. I once watched her raise a squirrel whose mother had abandoned him before he was weened, and when he was grown he was completely tame, to the point where she could take him outside, let him run around on trees, and when she would open her pocket breast and call him by name, he would jump in. Wow.

Once, when she and I were in college, we were at my mother's house to help get the pool ready. My step-father opened a tube to let the pool drain into some bushes, and a blur shot out of the bushes, which Jean promptly grabbed behind the neck. And found herself holding an alligator about three feet long. He wasn't any more amused than she was.

This is the type of person she is. I wanted to give a picture of the type of person she is. Since she takes care of my daughter (her husband's daughter), my life insurance points to her. I trust her to do the right thing next year when I meet my doom, to ensure that the money is used to my daughter's benefit.

When I have any kind of a problem and need a shoulder to cry on, hers is the closest available, even if I have to drive 40 miles to get to it. When I got out of the hospital, I recuperated at her house. When I broke my ankle in the floods of hurricane Allison, she helped me to be mobile until I could get crutches. She gave me my dog, and my hamster, and when I leave for an extended trip, she's the one who takes care of my animal friends.

I value each of my friends greatly. The people I consider my true friends would kill for me, or die for me, and Jean is no exception. But she's also the one who has been there for me during most of the hardest times of my life, even the ones she caused. And that means something.

So, here's to you, Jean... Happy Birthday!!!

Heil Anxiety

So, I had this dream last night... I was on my way to a celebration. We were celebrating victory in the war.

To sum up, the Nazi party had just won World War II and had driven the Communists out of Hungary. They had also wiped out all known Jews worldwide.

If this isn't strange enough for you, I was one of the Nazis. Oh, but it gets better... I was one of Hitler's top advisors. And Hitler was a woman. In the dream, she was played by that lady from The Weakest Link.

So, I was on my way to the celebration. Don't get me wrong... I was opposed to her policy of genocide, and I didn't support the racism at all, but I had already decided that our regime was better than the one we were replacing (no idea regime what that was).

Also, she kinda scared me.

Another reason I was hesitant to go was because I knew that I was going to die. I didn't know how, but I knew that the story was about to end, and my character was supposed to die at the end. Cheerful, huh?

So anyway, I arrived at the site, when she was going to give a hearty speech. As I took my seat at the front, some of the others informed me that she had just passed a new law ordering immediate executions for anyone who even mentioned any of the Jews that had been killed. I idly wondered if I should start talking about them, knowing that I was supposed to die any minute. I thought about other ways, too. I could attack the Führer and be gunned down. We were on a high platform, so I could jump. The possibilities were endless.

As I pondered exit plans, Hitler saw me and ran over to me to give me a big hug. I stood to meet her, and as she slammed into me, she knocked us both off-balance, and I tumbled, pulling her down with me. We fell off the platform, toward the rocks a few hundred feet below. As I fell, I thought, "Oh, okay."

Just before I died I noted that I was also taking Hitler with me, so all-in-all, it wasn't a bad ending.

The power of thinking...

A wealthy man decided to go on a safari in Africa. He took his faithful pet Dachshund dog along for company.

One day, the Dachshund starts chasing butterflies and before long the Dachshund discovers that he is lost. Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the obvious intention of having lunch.

The Dachshund thinks, "I'm in deep trouble now! Then he noticed some bones on the ground close by and immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the Dachshund exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard. I wonder if there are any more around here."

Hearing this, the leopard halts his attack in mid-stride, as a look of terror comes over him, and slinks away into the trees. "Whew," says the leopard. "That was close. That Dachshund! Nearly had me."

Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes. But the Dachshund sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.

The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard. The leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine."

Now the Dachshund sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks "What am I going to do now?" But instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet... and just when they get close enough to hear,

the Dachshund says........ ......... .....

"Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off half an hour ago to bring me another leopard."

Latest News (politics, redux)

I know I haven't posted in a while, but I've been busy lately. I had been telling some of my friends that I wanted to run for President, but I didn't expect anything to happen this election. And yet...

Birthday Tribute - Al

This is the first of my Birthday Tributes to my friends. It's my friend Al's birthday, so I'll tell you about him.

Al is married to my previously-mentioned friend Jean. Well, not just married... She was my roommate, but I didn't need her, so I sold her to him. Then I remembered that she does the cooking and vacuuming. But I digress.

Al is the most honorable man I know. And it's all so stereotypical. He's an ex-marine, but way too smart to be an ex-marine. He was previously stationed at Camp Goliath, and was tasked with guarding the president. This was during Bush the First. Now, he works as an IT guru at a local college, and loves the job more than the pay.

He's a Janophile. And no, that has nothing to do with any Brady Bunch characters... It means that he likes Japanese stuff. He has a sizable collection of Japanese swords, watches anime in the original Japanese (he can't stand English dubs) and lets his wife, Jean, serve him tea. I've tried to talk him into making her wear a kimono, but he just mutters something about getting us both killed and wanders off.

Al's one fear is of spiders. This fact, combined with the aforementioned sword collection, is why I've kept my pet tarantulas away from him in the past. But that doesn't stop Jean from planting fake spiders around their house. She hopes to some day hear him scream like a little girl. It hasn't happened yet, but every now and then, I see him turn to face an imaginary judge and say, "And that's why I killed her, Your Honor."

He's a Perfect Man. He's loving, tender, generous, intelligent and good-looking. He treats his step-daughter as if she were his own. He shows love to every child that enters his home. (The good kind of love, not that sick kind they have in Florida.) He allows great latitude to his wife in bringing yet more animals into the house, violating the rules of their deed-restricted neighborhood. He does everything he's asked, helps his friends when they need it, and puts on whatever demeanor will make others the happiest. All this, and yet he's straight, unlike most other men who have these characteristics. And like all straight men who have these qualities... He's married.

And she doesn't properly appreciate him. But I digress.

In short, he's the one person I would most want at my side in a fight, and if he weren't married I would long ago have fallen in love with him. And he's the one person I trust most in the world, apart from my father. He's practically a super hero. Just without the tights. Although he does wear tights when he goes to the Renaissance Festival. And when he wears them he looks.... whew! Sorry, I had to catch my breath. But I digress.

And so, Happy Birthday, Al!