October 2005 Archives

Last night I was doing some laundry and Pooky was in the basement having a smoke. All of the cats joined us. Mr. Doo was investigating the dryer. He often takes upon himself these investigations and conducts them in such a way that it is like I am being inspected by a lunatic with credentials. Anyhow, I tossed in the wet clothes around him and went about my business. I knew he would leave the dryer so I didn't do a cat check. I closed it up and turned it on and went over to Pooky to have a bit of small talk.

I heard a strange thumping noise coming from the dryer, like when you dry sneakers. I thought it was strange because I had only put in shirts. Then it hit me: cat in the dryer! But I was looking at Mr. Doo when I realized it!

Upon opening the door I see a very scared Mr. Smee as if one of his nine lives had just expired. Poor baby was a streak of fur out of the room and onto the stairs. I made my way over to him for comforting. He was saucer-eyed and breathing heavily. I picked him up and soothed his little body. His nerves were on the outside for a few minutes. He eventually eased his way back into the fold.

It's a given he'll most likely not join Mr. Doo again on an investigation of the dryer!

My mother was informed of her situation. Her lungs are filled with little blood clots. In fact, the doctor said that one was about an inch from her heart. If it had made it there she wouldn't be alive. He also said he had never seen someone with so many clots in their lungs and still be alive. Apparently her time wasn't up.

It's assumed that her clotting disorder is genetically based. She doesn't know of anyone in her extended family that has had this type of problem, but nonetheless, this means that I and my siblings should be aware of the possibility we could also have clotting problems.

Despite the irritation and annoyances I feel from her personality, I'm not ready just yet for her to depart from the physical. It does feel like there is more for us to work through—to experience. Hopefully she'll take this as a wake-up call...

Well, I think I faired rather nicely considering it's been two months since my last (and hopefully final) surgery. I did start my period and picked up a mild cold, and performed a wedding all during the module. I decided to skip today's portion of classes because it was only going to be for two hours and was non-supervised, peer discussion of our Beginning Theory of Counseling papers. Yesterday we discussed them to my point of satisfaction and I feel rather goodly about the feedback I received, and gave. I have only read two papers out of the 8 I was supposed to read (which reminds me, I will have to plead with the other members to e-mail me theirs so I can read them).

I am and was exhausted by going to module. I thought going to a room and sitting on my ass would not be exhausting. It is. The chairs are uncomfortable, my gut went wonky with eating greasy restaurant food (and I wasn't buying cheap fast food) and the early mornings were the bane of my existence. My bag did spring a leak during Friday afternoon's class and so I was feeling really miserable and low and decided "This is it. I'm going home and not going back." But then as I drove home and stopped for a pizza I realized that I only needed to go back one more day for just a couple of hours and I could manage to get up at 6 am and do the half-day. I thought if I slept in my own bed, was able to worship the kitties for a couple of hours, and sleep beside Pooky that whatever was ailing me and making me so tired would slough off like dead skin cells.

My theory worked. I felt better when I got home. There was a message on the answering machine. My mother: "Hi. I'm in the hospital. Give me a call."

Turns out she had yet another DVT. Her third blood clot and now it is in her other leg. She most likely threw a few tiny clots on Friday accounting for her shortness of breath and chest pains. She's getting IV heparin therapy. The doctor says she most likely has a genetic disorder with her blood. She'll have to take blood thinners for the rest of her days.

I think she must hold onto a sense of indestructability because she told me about this blood clot of hers back when I was having my second surgery. She can easily wrap herself up in a flotation device and set sail on the river of Denial. Whatever wisdom I could offer her I gave freely about such things as: "Don't fret about closing the shop. Things work themselves out. What is most important is not denying your health. Yes, life does go on, but you can always pick up the pieces when you are ready to. And if you meet people who won't cut you some slack, so be it. There are those who will understand."

She lamented that she is bored by being in bed. The doctor won't let her walk for fear of her throwing a much bigger clot that could kill her. He said he doesn't want that sense of responsibility on his conscience. She was a bit peeved to not be able to move, but I said that she does need to take it seriously right now.

Then she regretted not taking time off for a real vacation and was realizing how this felt like a forced vacation without the amenities. I said that she really should take the time off for a real vacation, that by not doing so her body made her take one. It's true. Our bodies will eventually win out in the end. We haven't yet mastered that whole near-immortality thing just yet.

I found it difficult to sit with my mom, not because I hate hospitals. In fact, they feel like home and are comforting to me. Yet, what grates on me is her personality. I wanted to just lecture to her constantly about everything that was wrong. So I stayed quiet and tried to control what I decided to talk about. Mostly I just let her carry on. It was safer that way.

As I drove home I thought how weird it is when we grow up. I recall living every day with this woman, and did so for about twenty years. I was sad to leave home in many respects, for I didn't feel completely ready to leave home when I did, but at the same time was ready to leave home because she was so irritating to me. Yet, there was that precious time in childhood when she meant the world to me and I couldn't stand being away. The same goes for my dad, too.

We really do lives most of our lives away from our parents, and yet those tender few years we do live with them stay with us for the rest of our days! I was trying to wrap my mind around it all. What caused me to feel so differently about my mother over the years? I found myself very maudlin about how very little time families really are together. I miss my siblings, the daily interaction we had with each other. Now it's such a chore to find the time to e-mail them, let alone see them or spend an hour or two with them.

I find myself wishing for the "old days" in which families didn't disperse like dandelion puffs in the wind, and that siblings stayed near the family homestead, or in some cases, never did marry and remained at home carrying on as usual and then caring for their parents when the effects of old-age set in. (I am reading the Anne of Green Gables series and the Cuthberts come to mind. Many other characters in the books also similar.)

We look back on those times and realize how unenlightened they were about family dysfunction, child abuse and molestation were kept secret, and men and women had rigid family roles. Really, though, it was all there but how it was dealt with is much different than today. I just wish that the good parts—like the togetherness—wasn't left behind in favor of living a modern lifestyle. I imagine that is the price to pay for switching from being agricultural to industrial. There is no need to stay near home because the career or job you need to have is always "elsewhere".

I'm finding that my opportunities in the counseling field is limited simply because I am in a community that doesn't need or value them that much. Most of the people are court ordered into "treatment" and don't enter into by choice. The number of privately practicing therapists/counselors in my county can be counted on a pair of hands. The community agencies are less than a handful.

So I know if I want to "make it" in my field, I will have to move to where people seek and want access to my services. I don't want to move to Seattle where I feel that there is a glut of therapists. I'd like to find an area that is open to therapy, and hasn't yet been tapped. My romance for the south beckons to my soul, and I know that the culture of the south is vastly different than what I am used to. Still, I feel up to the challenge of finding my way there and seeing if I can't establish myself in the midst of that culture.

One of the great marriage therapists of the differentiated school of thought, David Schnarch, once had a practice in New Orleans before moving to Colorado. If he was able to gain popularity and experience success down there, I feel that there is hope that I, too, can find my southern home someday.

Of course, ideally I'd love to live in the little Hamlet of Shrone. Only I think it isn't really a town anymore. It was once upon a time...

Now, I am going to share with you something that may sound oddball, but hear me out about it, and promise to consider it kindly, and not poke fun. In reading about reincarnation from Edgar Cayce's readings, he said often groups of souls will collectively reincarnate together. It is more than just families reincarnating, but can be whole communities.

When I learned Shrone was a real town, and I found so many other dear souls in my life who are Shrones, I started to think that maybe—just maybe we all once lived in that town of Shrone and we were dearest of friends. For Cayce also says that there isn't radomness in the people who come into our lives. The people that impact us the most, that we form friendships with, are indeed those souls we've incarnated with before.

In my heart I have this "fear" that when I do have the chance to travel to the town of Shrone I may very well feel overwhelmed on a spiritual level, that it is my one true home, and that I won't be able to leave it. I strongly feel that there is one place on this planet that is my True Home. And in my heart of hearts, I would so very much like to realize my wish for all of us Shrone to one day meet in the town of Shrone—for the first time in this incarnation, but a reunion of our souls.

We've got 7 pumpkins to carve: one for each human and cat, and then lights to string. I have a wedding tomorrow evening before the little ones come seeking candy. We have been very good about our pre-Halloween candy consumption. I don't want much of it left over even if that means Pooky will sulk a bit.

I'm off on Tuesday to Module 7 with the Winter track group. I'm so looking forward to meeting everyone. I've already made e-mail contact with some folks and everyone has welcomed me into their group. I have a strong feeling that everything is going to turn out fine.

Of course, I hate being away for so long. It is a long module. Pooky said since I'll have my own hotel room that he'll come up on Wednesday night. We'll have dinner, maybe some marital bliss, and then an early start of it the next day.

I won't be taking the computer with me, and if I get too lonely for blogging I can always log-on at the hotel for $4/hr, but since money is tight, I'll have to be very needy.

I'm glad that McDonald's has been running their Monopoly game because I've collected a breakfast sandwich, medium fries, and two large sandwiches for free, which I'll take advantage of because the McD's is across the street from the hotel. I will of course treat myself to some Thai food, a "blood burger" from Stanford's (the next best cheeseburger to Fuddrucker's) and probably something from Pizza Schmizza.

My ostomy has been working very nicely and I'm getting the feel for when it needs to be changed. I think of myself as a mother sensing when her baby has soiled their diaper. I had a strong craving for chocolate donuts tonight which means my period is on my way. I'm sure it is going to happen when I'm away; it always does.

I got my 10 page paper written, and looked ahead at future assignments. I noticed that there is a Theory of Counseling paper which apparently is the Beginning Theory of Counseling paper updated after a hard year of internship. I'm sure my theory will change after having to deal with people; it always does. Only with the final version you have to present it to a committee of faculty and peers and it increases to 20 pages. That's not too bad considering that most master thesis papers have to be plastic spiral bound and all of that presentation crap.

I won't have Module 1 until January of next year. By then I must have my internship or they definitely won't let me continue. My plan is to go to the agency on Tuesday when I return. I must make an appearance in person because so far nothing has happened by me sending a letter or making a phone call. If I plant myself in their office someone will have to see me.

I'm still not crocheting. How I've been expressing my creativity is through writing. I've been known to dabble in the fictional arts, and an idea for a story keeps plaguing me at night just before I fall asleep. So I've gotten a rough draft of the first chapter going. Do all writers start writing stories from the beginning? What I've started could possibly be the middle. I don't know. I feel the need to write.

One thing that is keeping me from completely freaking out is that as a second year student I may be chosen to be someone's mentor. I've not had that honor before and I am so looking forward to that. I've been thinking of the person who might pick me to be their guide.

I'm off to join Anne Shirley before I join dreamland. I got bought the entire series of books because I must know the entire life of Anne. I've only read a book or two from the series and I've seen all three of the Canadian productions starring Megan Follows. Megan does such an excellent job as playing "Anne with an e."

While I'm away surprise me with comments about all and anything that comes to mind. Make up a story, or tell me the stupidest joke you know. I'm going to terribly miss all of you, even though it is just a short handful of days!

OK, I'm one of those weirdos who happens to think stuff like that messages and things come to us in different forms and signs. I don't always think it is The Divine directly communicating but a combination of what I like to call The Powers That Be. Think of the yin/yang symbol, the collective unconscious, the good, the bad, the beautiful and ugly, and to me that is a snapshot of The Powers That Be (sometimes called the PTB).

Well, I got to thinking about what I've written lately and what has popped up randomly for me. It was a bit of a message to me from that "Lori needs" meme that I should cut my mom some slack. After all, I said I expect people to give me some slack when I'm in the hospital or coming home from it, and I figure if I want to receive something I'd better be willing to give it first.

I'm not making excuses for my mother, but rather thought of the explanation of why she eschews being truthful and honest, although I did learn from her the phrase "honest is the best policy."

It jumped into my memories how she told of an incident involving her finding the courage to confess to her father that she was wearing a bit of lip gloss or lip stick to school and then taking it off before coming home. (Her father was a religious fundamentalist who felt beating his children into submission was God's will. He would not allow my mom to enjoy the typical, normal things of a teenager in the 1950s because they were sinful and such.)

I commend her for being honest with her father. She knew she was going against his wishes, but what he did to her because of her honesty was appalling, completely against the entire religion of Christianity (as far as I'm concerned) and no doubt left an impact on my mother to form the opinion that being honest gets you nothing more than a beating within the inch of your life.

My mother is prone to exaggeration, but I don't think she was entirely off in saying that her father reacted violently. The physical abuse he inflicted on her was more than enough to have him arrested, and she said that she managed to escape with him chasing after her with a rake!

I tend to think this punishment for being honest was a common experience for her. I struggle to feel empathy for her because I perceive her as an aware, strong woman whom I feel has realized: "The way you were raised is your parents' fault. If you stay that way, it's your own." (I haven't any idea who I'm quoting here, so I would give credit where it is due if I knew.)

Right here is where I'd disgress on a tangent of how un-Christian her father was about punishing honesty. I suppose in his mind he was punishing her for breaking a rule, but there are far more effective ways to reprimand for breaking a rule than physical assault. (It's from his gene pool that I figure I get my ulcerative colitis from. Yeah, I'm not too keen on that side of the family tree.)

So my feelings toward my mom haven't been as slacky as I could have them. Lately she and I have been annoying each other and I think it began on the day I was born started most recently this summer when I had surgery. I don't know why my choice to free myself of pain nettled her so much, but it surfaced for her a lot of crap and she repeated much of the same stuff she said to me when I was 16-17 yo and in the hospital. But it's been building ever since I said I was going to be contacting my "other family members."

She doesn't call me very often, and she made a deliberate point one day to call and ask me if I had contacted "anyone" and she was sure to tell me that my dad would never be able to share his feelings.

It's a slow lesson for me to learn: my mother. How to relate to her. How to cope with her ways. Just how much she has influenced my decisions and who I am. Edgar Cayce's definition of a soul mate comes to mind. In my life she's been (to date) the one who has provoked me the most to meet myself. She's like a having a head-on collision without an air bag!

I'm in a maudlin mood which I blame on the whacky hormones, dank weather, autumnal decay, lack of sunlight, and the dread of impending life changes that are looming around the corner like a big fuzzy Muppet monster.

I'm lamenting the changes I feel are about to come: That getting an internship (which I keep procrastinating about) will take me away from home too much. My humble abode is where I like to be. It is my sanctuary, my little cozy nest where I pamper my five feline babies, and where Pooky and I seek comfort and solace from the nastiness of life.

I lament that school and my impending internship will keep me from blogging and reading my bloggy friends' blogs, and that time for crocheting will be minimal.

I dread life after graduation in which I'll grind away at some agency and/or try to establish my own practice just to pay back my student loans.

In writing this out I realize that what I dread and fear isn't my dream coming true, but that life after graduation will be this monotonous struggle of work and tedium, that there won't be any joy in working at a profession I thought I'd enjoy. And that I'll have to give up bee-bopping around the house in my Rice Krispies pajama bottoms for pin-striped slacks and put shoes on each day and have to figure what I'll have to take to lunch.

Right now I fear that I don't have what it takes to be a counselor that people will like, want, or need. I don't see myself as a failure, I just see myself as inexperienced and lacking—wanting—and I have no idea how to fill the voids within me.

I've been struggling with the lessons taught to me by bridezillas #1 and #2, which harken back to the ultimate lesson my mother has been teaching me for 33 years. You will never be able to please some people no matter what you do. It just won't be enough or the right thing for them. It's hard to remember that it speaks more about them than you; but if I am to also simultaneously believe that all people work together to co-create a situation, then aren't I being spoken of, too, and it isn't just them and their problem that they can't be pleased?

I'm pointing a finger at myself asking me, "Why do I feel that I must strive to please people? Am I seeking acceptance? Do I want to feel good about myself? Do I want them to feel happy? Do I simply want to help? Is it really more about me in that I have this insane need to correct my mistakes?"

And why is it when autumn rolls around that I suddenly crave apples dipped in caramel sauce like a pregnant lady? It's like in the summer when I suddenly need an endless supply of club sandwiches and iced tea. It's driving me nuts!

I found out today that my faculty for pro-sem wants me to write the Beginning Theory of Counseling paper as soon as possible because she feels it is more a reflection of me at this point in time versus it being a solid academic paper. Even though this means I have to bullshit for 10 pages, I still have to write thoughtful bullshit about such things as: Describe the characteristics (no more than six) of an effective therapist, or Why and how is systemic framework important to the counseling process?

There is some reading I'm going to have to do, but I am not keen about it. It feels like reading will interfere with eating apples dipped in caramel sauce.

I made contact with my new classmates yesterday. I'm part of a very small group now. The Winter track has fewer students and so soon I'll get to know everyone—I hope. I like smaller groups;I prefer them.

Somehow I've managed to write almost four pages today without getting to the real academic questions that require me to crack a book. It's a good thing double-spacing exists along with fonts that are big even at 12 points. Throw in the section headers and it helps to fill the 10 pages.

I also need to write a summary about the statistics used in a professional journal article and then before Module 2 write the update to my autobiography. The update will be the easiest thing to accomplish. I may have to write how I crave caramel dipped apples in autumn and club sandwiches in the summer and how this speaks of a greater, systemic aspect of my dynamic, luminous being! ;-)

I was looking at Yahoo headlines and found it interesting that 57% of college graduates last year were women. We know what this trend will lead to: Women demanding the jobs that once were held by men. And you know what that means: The men will need to start having the babies 'cause the women won't be staying home to do it! ;-)

All joking aside, the article says that there has been such a focus to get women into higher education that attention on men has gone by the wayside. This percentage is indicates that progress in advancing women has arrived. Yeah, but do women earn the same as men? When that happens along with no more threats about reproductive rights and a female pope is seated, then I'll agree that equality between the sexes has been achieved.

Until then this article is just an interesting statistic.

Today I'd like to rip out my uterus and see what the hell is going on with it. For the past month it has been doing a threatening sort of twinge and cramp, with each day I feel more and more pre-menstrual but with nothing happening to bring sweet relief from the pangs and moodiness of whacked-out hormones. I just know next week while I'm away at Module the dam will burst and I'll feel like the spawn of Satan unleashed to wreak havoc on the world. My head will spin; split pea soup will spew; a blood-bath will be reported on the local evening news.

Ever since going stomated, I've dreaded having my period because that means wearing undies (I'm not a tampon girl) and I've grown accustomed to being footloose and fancy-free, but more importantly, I haven't found any undies that feel right since all of them either squash up the ileostomy bag or ride beneath the flange making it feel like the bag will pop off. I may have to reconsider the use of tampons...NOT!

Besides, everything down there feels tightened up as if it had been placed on a reproductive Medieval torturing rack, only instead of stretching it was scrunching.

While I don't mind the occasional deja vu, I keep having these bodily and mental moments of reliving being sick like I was during the summer, and I feel haunted and disturbed by it. It's going to take awhile for these memories to become blurs, and it can't happen fast enough. I think what was worse for me was the fever/sickness I had last month that was either the flu or a UTI. That was more unbearable than my time in the hospital.

Being I'm in a twisted mood, I'm trying to make sense of the comments left regarding my mother's business practice of charging more when putting an item on sale. If I may correct myself, I'd rather say she is acting selfish as opposed to greedy, for her attitude about it comes across as being selfish. I'm not rescinding she has a greedy streak, however. She does.

I take issue with her deception. Instead of marking up the price through a supposed sale, why not just remark the price and announce "Now $3.99!" She doesn't always put up a big sign to draw attention to a product, so perhaps doing just that will work.

I have no issue with her raising her prices in order to stay in business. It is how she goes about raising them that I think is wrong on so many levels. What is even more disturbing is that she shows no care or concern about it being deceptive, which is why I feel it is being selfish. It's like she wants to purposefully bilk people, to find the suckers in the crowd.

Setting prices is a tricky aspect of doing business. Where her shop is at the local people won't pay Seattle prices. That means she has to sell more yarn at lower prices, and with a new Michael's opening up, she's got that type of competition to deal with.

But, if her customers catch on to her being deceptive in the end I think she'll gain a negative reputation. She already has it set in her mind that all women are completely stupid and she will treat them as such simply because they fail to catch on quickly how to read a pattern or pick up how to cast on in knitting that she feels is the one and only way to cast on.

I've seen how she'll be incredibly rude and disrespectful to people whom she's instantly labeled as being "stupid." And if she doesn't think they are stupid, then she will cast another judgement against them that is just as negative. If I hear one more sexist remark out of her mouth about women being dumb I may lash out at her and rip out her tongue!

When I worked at my university as a grad assistant in the continuing eduation department I had my first exposure to how people lack common sense at times (like the one lady who wanted to know if she could fax me a check to pay a fee), some even struck me as having a few screws loose, but I wouldn't call them dumb or stupid. I may even say a few were ignorant, but ignorance is correctable. Stupidity can't be taught, and I can't say if I've ever met anyone who is beyond teaching. The only thing that keeps people from learning are two things: severe brain damage (like the brain is missing), and the biggest culprit of all is: the person's attitude toward learning.

Before I slither away for the night and sulk because my body threatens to menstruate but won't, I'd just like it to be known that if I had any Barbie dolls in my possession I would cheerfully mutilate them by cutting their hair and dressing them up in awful clothing like I would do as a little girl when I would get snarky feeling.

What's keen is I got some new Patricia K. doily pattern books in the mail, so maybe if I don't feel so evil I'll start one. Yesterday when I came home I found that the kittens had gotten into the thread christening gown I had started and destroyed it. I hadn't gotten very far, so I wasn' totally bummed out, and I had to fix a mistake I had made and was avoiding that, so perhaps the kittens were doing me a favor by putting it out of its misery?

One of these days I won't be talking about how I don't feel like crocheting and will actually be crocheting! Even with all of these new patterns I have to swoon over, I don't feel the spark of life within me. All I want to do is eat apples dipped in caramel sauce.

I fondue, do you?

I would have been able to present more Shrones, but there was a glitch in the power company receiving their payment and they had the gall to actually turn off our power just as I was going to make breakfast! Anyhow, power was restored after much fuming.

Please give a hearty welcome to Noricum and Nancy, dear Shrones who
have the following qualities:

Noricum

1. You are Canadian born putting you in the esteemed ranks of Colin Mocherie, Peter Jennings, Mike Meyers, Sarah McLachlan, k.d. lang, Lucy Maud Montgomery, Bare Naked Ladies,
   
2. You are studying for your PhD! How cool is that?!?!? And in a scientific field no less, even cooler!
   
3. You have a kind and generous heart.
   
4. You have an understanding of what it means to be troubled with health problems.
   
5. Something about you says when you get old and withered, you just might go out crusing for penis!
   
6. You are unknowable.
   
7. You make outstanding socks!
   
8. You have the coolest pair of espionage bacon on the planet and highly coveted bacon bandages!
   
9. You're one groovy chick and I think you are super cool!
   
10. You haven't killed your inner child and you freely allow it out to play.

Nancy

1. You have the greenest thumb and Shrones (if not swarmed by cats) will keep plants (sometimes giving them personalized names, too).
2. You are a fellow Rat from the Chinese zodiac and that means you possess oodles of charm.
3. You have a kind and generous heart.
4. You've had your share of health problems (when I read up on what you had done I *gasped* and squeezed you with a big mental hug) and are dealing with your dad's declining health in a very admirable, inspiring way.
5. Something about you says when you get old and withered, you just might go out crusing for penis!
6. You are unknowable.
7. You have been a teacher for many years without losing your mind (but as you said, you can act pretty well, so maybe...it really is lost?).
8. You've got the kind of red hair that is lovely and totally Shrone! (I am referring to your photo posted honoring your hubby's birthday. I hope your hair is still that amazing color!)
9. You're one groovy chick and I think you are super cool!
10. You haven't killed your inner child and you freely allow it out to play.

If you'd like to direct your readership to What Is A Shrone? it may help inquiring minds to better understand what it means to be a Shrone. I happen to think we're much more snazzy than the Ya-Ya Sisterhood or the Sisterhood the Travelling Pants or those Red Hat ladies as we have an actual town of Shrone to descend upon some day and hold our first-ever Shrone gathering, donned in turbans, purple regalia, and naturally after sunset we'll apply bright red lipstick and go out cruising for penis!

I have it on good authority that the number of Shrones is soon to increase by the magic number 8! (And you always thought that "seven eight nine" thereby making it a gustatory verb!)

So be on the look-out in your e-mail inbox, and upon the good news be sure to tell the world about your new Shrone status!

The reason for the sudden deluge of Shrones is that I missed all of those months back through the summer and so I'm just now getting caught up. However, Shrone Welcoming gifts will still take 4-6 weeks to arrive, depending on my finances.

Shrone gifts are little heart-warming mementos that speak of your own unique Shronedom. And most importantly, you'll receive that snazzy laminated Shrone Card!

I was pretty wound up this morning by the unfounded e-mail I received. I decided against being nasty back because two wrongs don't make a right. Since I was going to be near the courthouse anyhow, I stopped in and got a replacement certificate without any problems. It took me longer to find a parking space than to accomplish the transaction.

It got me to thinking about how business is conducted these days. My previous SO worked for a publishing company that specialized in publishing academic journals. (BTW, did you know that there is an academic journal called Turf & Lawn Management? It contains "scientific" articles on how to keep golf courses green and managed.) It was standard policy within that company to lie to anyone calling in to ask how long something was going to take. The answer to always be given was: two weeks.

Now, more often than not, two weeks wasn't anywhere near the time frame that was the truth. The truth was more like two months, sometimes six months, but in order to keep the customer happy, they were always informed it would just be two weeks. My SO hated to lie like this, but since he was a nobody within the ranks, just a rank and file proofreader, he had to follow company policy.

It was felt by management that people would forget their initial inquiry about the time frame and move on and somehow be placated with this response. However, when dealing with PhD's they tend to be wiser than the average bear and realized they were being deceived. On more than one occasion excuses and reasons would have to be supplied when the deception was discovered.

While I think people do want to be told the truth in the business world, at the same time they don't want to hear it. Therefore companies have set policies of "fudging the truth" so that the customer will like what they hear. Are we such delicate creatures that hearing the truth pushes our buttons and pulls our triggers?

When I got home this evening this is what I wrote to the upset bride:

The reason I informed you yesterday about my lack of success with getting an answer from the county auditor is I said I would keep you informed about what was going on. I have always been honest with you, and by doing so I'm judged unprofessional and unorganized. As a person studying business relations, one of the biggest complaints in the business world is the lack of honesty, integrity, and accountability. I was fully aware that if I was honest with you that I could be deemed as unprofessional and unorganized, but it was a risk I was willing to take because I feel being honest with a person is better than being caught in a lie.

Remember how when we were young we were taught not to lie and fib because it was wrong? Why do adults tend to scrap that when doing business? Is profit the motivating factor in all business transactions?

I could have easily compromised my integrity, denied there was any mistake on my part, and pulled the wool over her eyes just to make her happy, to give her that "blissful ignorance" that people want to be coddled with, but I'm the one who has to face myself in the mirror and look into the eyes of a person who could tell fibs and lies to another just because they wanted to be soothed.

In good conscience, I can't do it. It's not that I fear I'll burn in hell, but I do have this scenario in my mind that goes like this: Upon the day of crossing over into the white light, spirits come around me and I have to begin on that process of accounting for my life, to determine what karma still remains for me to balance. In the beginning of my days, before I knew better, I didn't care that much about such philosophical matters, but as I learned, I changed my behavior to reflect what I feel is true.

I want to be able to look those spirits straight in their third eye and say: I stopped lying to people because I felt that being honest was tied to my integrity as a growing soul and human being. I did my best to own up to my mistake and shortcomings and not deny them or lie about them just to make someone feel good. It did make me sad that I upset them, but I felt that in the end being honest in a polite way was the best policy I could ever adopt. I told the truth without being vicious, thoughtless, rude, or uncaring. I told the truth as I saw it as it felt wrong to do otherwise, and I didn't like feeling wrong inside because I had to live with that feeling and above all be true to myself so that I could be true to others.

When you do business, what would you rather be told: the truth or what you like to hear? How do you feel about an employee or company that you catch in a lie?

I've had another issue come up with a former bride. Turns out Pooky had to perform the ceremony in my stead since I went into the hospital rather unexpectedly. She inquired about why she hadn't received the decorative certificate. I said I couldn't find it among my papers, so I assumed I mailed it out to her (I explained that right after I got out of the hospital I don't have the recollection of events).

I then inform her that I will contact the county auditor's office to see if they will replace it as I'm assuming it is lost. However, when I called their offices yesterday all I got was a voice mail. I called twice: in the morning and in the afternoon. I informed her of this and said I would visit them in person to find out if I could get a replacement.

I also said that if a replacement wasn't available that I would refund her a portion of the ceremony fee.

Turns out as I was cleaning downstairs I found the certificate in question, only she and her groom had signed their names within the certificate body. I decided to do the white-out thing as their signatures would look goofy among the calligraphy. In the end it didn't look so good as the nib didn't want to write over the white-out. Bad decision on my part, but overall it doesn't look horrible.

I receive an e-mail from her this morning that tried to rip me a new asshole! She said she didn't believe that I had mailed them anything, that I was unprofessional and unorganized based upon my confession that prior to her wedding I said I had misplaced some of their script selections, but I did find them. She said she wished she would be able to alert other brides about my services as I have handled this entire situation to her disliking.

She said and I quote: "If you were unable to handle doing our wedding due to your sickness you should have let us know, instead of making excuses." I don't feel that I was doing either of these things, but who is to judge?

What bothers me, and I have felt this before (and not just from the original bridezilla) but that today people really lack understanding and compassion when it comes to someone being sick, or if they are honest. Because I was being honest with her it exposed my vulnerability and weakness. Being sick is being vulnerable and weak.

Does the current way of thinking toward vulnerability and weakness say that you kick someone when they are down, treat them the opposite of understanding and compassion?

Do people even know what compassion is anymore?

I'm not trying to say I'm not to be held accountable, to own up to my part in the situation. I fully admitted to her I wasn't at my best moment after coming home. Was it a mistake to say that? Should I lie from now on in order to tell people what they want to hear as opposed to telling them the truth?

It is well known that people "can't handle the truth" that they are much happier with hearing lies---being told what they want to hear. I must be a stupid sap for thinking that honesty is the best policy, even if people get angry with me.

But I don't appreciate people getting angry with me because I've been sick and not able to live up to their expectations. Yes, I do think people should cut me some slack in that department as physically and mentally when a person is ill they aren't on a level playing field with the healthy world.

I assume people should understand this, but then I realize that nowadays people don't typically get sick beyond the common cold. Maybe the flu if they are unfortunate. People don't interact with chronic illness, with surgeries and operations, and infirmities until they are retired and they expect it to happen then because they are old and old people are notoriously ill.

Have we driven the compassion and understanding out of today's people because we have whisked those incurable, chronic illnesses off to the hospital where they need to be tended to, instead of nursing people at home?

I will be sending the bride her certificate, with a note saying that since the certificate has been found, doesn't all of the fuss make it seem rather pointless? I explained why it looks shitty, too, since they signed their names when they shouldn't have. If she wants to bitch and complain more, so be it. I wash my hands of it.

She could have gotten a reimbursement by asking for one instead of calling me names and saying how horrible a person I am for being sick and incompetent. If she asks for one now, it's too late as far as I'm concerned. She can go to the county auditor and ask for the replacement. She can tell them a mistake was made and perhaps they will show her compassion and understanding and replace it.

Such is life.

You Are 60% Boyish and 40% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

Swiped from the lovely Stacey of Yarnification

I'm so behind on my Shrone presenting that today I thought I'd surprise three lucky gals with the news that they have joined the amazing and ever-astounding, and completely unknowable ranks of Shronedom!

In no particular order, please give a hearty welcome to: Natalie, Joy, and Elizabeth!

Probably more later than sooner, or just whenever, you will receive your official bona fide Shrone card and some welcoming gifts!

Hopefully each gal will post of her good news, but in case you don't feel like doing a mouse click over to her blog, here's what made each respective Shrone a Shrone:

Natalie

1. You made the world's ugliest Ugli-ghan square, and only a bona fide Shrone could do that!
2. You know the pleasures of The Weed.
3. You have a kind and generous heart.
4. You possess wisdom ahead of your chronological years, a hallmark of all Shrones.
5. Something about you says when you get old and withered, you just might go out crusing for penis!
6. You are unknowable.
7. You like lions, sock monkeys and office supplies. These are good things to like.
8. You have excellent tastes in fancy, baubly crochet hooks, like that glass one that costs $70.
9. You're one groovy chick and I think you are super cool!
10. You haven't killed your inner child and you freely allow it out to play.

Joy

1. You know the pleasures of Snow Peas, which only real Shrones understand about. (I think it has something to do with that story about the Princess and the pea.)
2. You too have created an imaginery business name that you'd one day like to own.
3. You have a kind and generous heart.
4. You like reading a good, scary story. Shrones aren't afraid to be "spooked" now and again.
5. Something about you says when you get old and withered, you just might go out crusing for penis!
6. You are unknowable.
7. You have been known to get up early in the morning to exercise. That's admirable.
8. You are a "tea junkie".
9. You're one groovy chick and I think you are super cool!
10. You haven't killed your inner child and you freely allow it out to play.

Elizabeth

1. You make no apologies for speaking your mind, and you do so in a manner that is admirable and with integrity.
2. You enjoy a good cigar now and then.
3. You have a kind and generous heart.
4. You've got a style all your own that I admire, like that whole three olive martini thing.
5. Something about you says when you get old and withered, you just might go out crusing for penis!
6. You are unknowable.
7. You have excellent taste in yarn.
8. You take life in stride, are realistic, yet aren't so dreadfully boring not to engage in fits of whimsy.
9. You're one groovy chick and I think you are super cool!
10. You haven't killed your inner child and you freely allow it out to play.

Apparently prayers are answered, or if you have no inkling toward acts of faith, then logic and reason has prevailed! I'm being allowed to attend Module 7 of the Winter track and if all goes well I'll be advanced to second year and start the new academic year in Jaunary!

I made sure to inform financial aid so my loans will be reinstated and get my loan holders into deferrment so their almost daily letters will cease.

However, the tiny fly in the ointment is this: I have to write a 10 page paper by module explaining my theory of counseling!

Bonus is: I got a room rate of $45/day through Priceline for my stay at module. I'm only 4 miles from the actual hotel the classes will be held, plus they say I get a complimentary breakfast each morning and there was Internet access, but I'm not sure if it is "free". I'm sure I won't have to pay for parking as I'm not near the airport.

Gee, now I have to engage my brain and start reading real books and thinking about my theory of counseling! Most importantly, I've got to get on the horn and call back the director at the local mental health agency and get interviewed and get my internship cemented! January won't be a reality until I get that internship solidified and stamped with the seal of approval!

You Are Likely a Second Born

At your darkest moments, you feel inadequate. At work and school. you do best when you're evaluating. When you love someone, you offer them constructive criticism. In friendship, you tend to give a lot of feedback - positive and negative. Your ideal careers are: accounting, banking, art, carpentry, decorating, teaching, and writing novels. You will leave your mark on the world with art and creative projects.

I was the second born girl, but the family baby for 11 years then my brother came along and as they say, the rest is history!

This meme swiped from Heather (Sleevesless in Utah who swiped it from another, who swiped it from another, and so on, and so on...) When applicable, I crossed out those words/phrases that didn't fit my life and personalized them. When you swipe this from me, you can embellish your findings as you wish. My findings read like a mix of horroscope and fortune cookie. Strange how the Universe can speak to you via Google!

Here's what to do: Google "[your name] needs" and list the best.

1. I think Lori needs to step out into the experiences of others and use that to make an attitude change. (Did my professors write this?)

2. Lori needs our help and support now more than ever. (Please send $50s and $100s)

3. Lori needs to be aware of her own anger and how it's affecting her, so that she can be free of it. (Hey, who has been reading my diary and/or professor's assessments?)

4. On the other side, there are times I know Lori needs sex but is too busy-minded to be aware of that fact. (We all know Pooky wrote this one!)

5. Lori needs a change, and Fred (her personal trainer father) is just what the doctor ordered, along with Prozac Celexa. (I told you Dr. S was a good surgeon!)

6. Lori needs to cut her mom some slack. (Who let my mother sneak in here?!?!?)

7. Lori needs one more year to finish med school the LIOS program, too. (This is getting eerily like real-life now!)

8. "Lori needs to do a lot more shopping," says David Pooky. (There I go again, putting words into Pooky's mouth!)

9. Lori needs hugs for all her dedication and hard work. (And my bloggy bosom friends give them to me, too!)

10. Lori needs to find the answers to the mystery involving Aunt Dimity's Mr. Doo's existence. (Why not end this on a metaphysical note?)

When you've had your fun with this, give me a ping on my trackback so I can read your "needs", too!

I decided to take a bath. You recall that 70s commercial about a woman who was having a hectic day and all she could think about was, "Calgon, take me away!" Well, sans the bubble bath, I drew myself up a nice, hot bath and added in some lavendar salts. Now, I decided to leave the door open (first mistake) because I had over-heated the room by closing it and having the heat on.

As the water was filling, Mr. Montague decided he'd hop in. He isn't afraid of water, so I found him with his paws totally covered...but that isn't the reason for this entry.

As I was trying to soak, sure enough, those wet paws of him trying to balance on wet fiberglass causes him to fall in. No surprise there. I could see it coming and kept chasing him off, but what was interesting was that when he fell in, he stayed in for a moment before realizing that he needed to get out. He was very calm about it. Mr. Doo was watching at the time. I don't think that had any bearing on Mr. Montague's reaction. Mr. Montague loves water!

Stash decided he needed to check out the big pool of water and he kept balancing himself on the edge. I kept chasing him away, but he wouldn't listen to me and he kept returning. Just as I was getting into the comfort of the bath and reading my book, I look up and see Stash perched down where I couldn't reach him, and then from behind him came Mr. Smee who spooked poor Stash with a classic "A-ha!" type ambush, causing Stash to jump into the water! Stash didn't like the sudden change in air to water, so he splashed himself out immediately and took off as if one of his nine lives had been spent!

It wasn't so much of him falling in, but how it happened! I could see Mr. Smee almost sneaking up behind him, and I think Mr. Smee didn't intend to startle Stash, but that is how it happened, and why Mr. Smee reached out with his paw to swat at Stash is not certain—I think they play this way when the tub is empty and perhaps Smee thought it was empty—as I don't think Smee is diabolical like Mr. Doo.

The look on Stash's face as he was startled was hysterical, but then the look of him being in the water was an outright laugh riot!

I tried to use the hair dryer on Stash but he'd have none of it so I had to towel him off. However, Mr. Montague permitted me to dry him! All he did was swat at the dryer a bit but he wouldn't run away from it.

Note to self: Next time leave the door closed!

On the way home from the evil experience I had at LIOS, I detoured to the Asian market since I wasn't able to go there last Saturday.

The snow peas were on sale for 99¢ plus an additional 10% off because it is the store's anniversary sale! I got 10 wonderful bags of them. (For those esteemed persons who requested I get them snow peas, soon you'll receive your share in the mail.)

But that wasn't the highlight of going there. Inside of the store is a bookstore and this time I got up the nerve to ask the clerk where the crochet books were kept. She said she didn't know what crochet was, so I asked if she knew what knitting is. She said she did, so she took me to the section and there was a special label on the shelf for crochet.

At first the books were basic doilies, but then...but then....

I found books on Irish lace crochet!

And that's not all! While scanning in the covers I realized that I bought myself a book of Yoko Suzuki's patterns by fortunate chance! I'm so thrilled! I was hoping to find more of her patterns since both Magic Crochet and Decorative Crochet are no longer being published.

What is so cool about the Irish crochet books is that they give exact patterns for making blouses and vests! None of that guess work! And though the supplemental directions are in Japanese, I can discern what thread size is used along with the hook size since my Clover hooks are in millimeters. Plus, if push comes to shove, I can now ask my sister for a quick translation as she lived in Japan for four years. (I hope she has kept her language skills fresh!)

Even though the books were 10% off, they weren't cheap. I will not say how much I gave for the Irish crochet books, but I figure they are worth ever penny! You just can't find stuff like that published here as thread crochet, let alone Irish crochet, isn't very popular, especially patterns using threads greater than size 10. What is interesting to note is that back in the day, women used to do thread crochet and all the patterns were in size 20 or higher!

Ladies, where have our thread crochet skills gone? Please don't be smart and say they've gone to Japan!

My mom said when her grandmother taught her how to crochet she learned to do it using size 30 and 20 thread! If I recall correctly, my mom put me to size 10 thread immediately, or that I took to it on my own as soon as I learned the basics.

Since she wouldn't teach me how to read patterns I quickly lost interest in crocheting. I was taught when I was about 8 years old. I even have a picture of me crocheting at that age. What a pity she wouldn't take the moment to show me how to read a pattern...Oh, well. I soon made up for lost time!

I'm still in a tizzy about the meeting I had with my professor. I will be in an even worse one come tomorrow if I find out I'm not allowed into Winter track.

I arrive 15 minutes late because morning traffic was awful. What else is new? Pooky called to say I was running late. When I get there, she starts off with reading to me a statement written by my main instructor for the year (who wasn't at this meeting). The instructor had written that I received a PC for my self-assessment from Module 5, missed half of Module 6, and all of Module 7.

My jaw dropped to the floor. When I was able to scoop it up, I said: That is totally wrong! I received an AC for my assessment, was present for the ENTIRETY of Module 6, and yes, I did miss Module 7, but I attended the final session of I-Group and the closing ceremonies in order to say good-bye to my classmates for the summer.

The professor didn't believe me! She had to then request a copy of my transcript from the program secretary before she would accept my word as having more validity than my instructor's. And even after she saw that I hadn't lied, that I did in fact receive an AC for self-assessment, and that I had done so for all of my other courses, save but the missed ones, she still treated me like I was not to be believed!

She kept pushing that I take the year off and return next fall. And that I could attend I-Group meetings with this year's first years so I can become part of their community. I said I can't do that due to financial constraints. No way will I drive for 90 minutes each way twice a week for an I-Group sessions that last 3hrs and 90 minutes respectively. My lost time and gas isn't worth it.

Then the professor said that they were concerned that this past year I didn't get the fullest experience out of the program because of my health problems. I asked her what exactly did she mean? I received AC's in all of my papers and courses, that I had "pinches" and "crunches" with fellow classmates that I attended resolution sessions with, and that I met one of my most important goals this summer by reconnecting with my estanged family—what more could they possibly want? Her reply was that I didn't actively participate in class! I said that just because I wasn't one of the people who talked continuously and didn't know when to shut-up doesn't mean I didn't participate in class!

While I do indentify myself as an introvert/non-talker, I do speak my mind and I do participate when I see it has merit and benefit. I don't go dancing out into the spotlight simply to seek attention.

My blood was boiling mad! For them to say my health issues were preventing me from getting a full experience is ludicrous! I explained to her that their theory holds no water because all I've done is exchanged on set of health problems for another, and in the process all that I lost was my constant pain. The ileostomy itself comes with its own set of health issues that they could claim would keep me from fully experiencing the program.

And if they meant that I didn't participate in extra-curricular activities, I said while at module I often spent time with my classmates while at the hotel, but that I've made numerous attempts to connect with my classmates outside of module by extending invitations for them to come down to my residence, only for those invitations to be dismissed because no one wanted to drive down to Centralia because of the awful traffic, and so I was excluded from the Seattle area clique. As for the Olympia area clique and why I wasn't allowed into that, I said I didn't know why.

Finally the professor admitted that since I had received my AC's and had only missed the one module that they no longer really had any reason to keep me from switching to Winter, but rather that the capacity for it might already be full! So they would have to talk with the lead faculty of that program to find out if there was enough room for me.

All I can think is, if that one instructor hadn't misrepresented (or should I say lie!) about my grades and the number of missed modules that much sooner I could have been switched to Winter! I think that no one wanted to deal with me because her misrepresentation of me painted me out to be a "bad" student not worth investing in and therefore, why bother to help me move ahead in the program?

Trust me, I saw this instructor already and I asked her when I could have a conversation with her to find out why she wrote those things about me without verifying the truth of them! She has acted very unprofessionally as far as I'm concerned.

Never in my undergraduate career did a professor say "boo" about me without having my transcript sitting before them. They made damn sure they knew what my grades were.

I think the reason they can get away with this shit is because the disabilities department at Bastyr is non-existant. I've been told the department has very little power, and naturally sides with the faculty and staff.

Not so at my undergraduate school. Professors bent over backwards to make sure they assisted students with disabilities so that they could succeed. This school, though it trains future therapits, counselors, and naturopathic physicians, only wants healthy, perfect people to graduate from its hallowed halls of higher academic learning.

I can hardly wait to hear what reasons my instructor is going to give me as to why she didn't bother to verify my grades or my absences, and to see how she is going to talk her way out of the damage she has done to my reputation. I'd like to know specifically what it is that I did that caused her to think of me as a "PC" student instead of an "AC" student.

Excuse me why I go rip the heads off of my stuffed animals so I can get this extreme pissed-off feeling out of my system!

Now you can all call me "Tattoo!" Forced by my endearing public, I took a pic of my not-quite-healed tattoo because I also was curious to see it. It's kind of hard to look at it since it is just millimeters above the crack of my butt. My fair hairs poke through the heart giving it a weird appearance.

If it looks a bit red, that's because it still is. I tried to photo-correct since I took the pic under regular lights which adds yellow to a photo. The colors aren't true to what they actually are.

I need to slip into bed much earlier than I am used to because I have to get up at quarter to seven as I have that very important meeting with my professors. I'll blog about the outcome tomorrow.

Earlier this morning I made a reference to my in-laws.What excellent timing on their part, because how fortunate (and coincidental) for them to have stopped by! Sometimes I wonder if anyone stills stops by to read here. After checking my daily stats, I found out that they do.

I'm in a jaunty mood! It is probably a result of my natural endorphines kicking in. The tattoing went marvelously. Not to frighten anyone considering getting one, but let me say this: 1) you should be able to tolerate superficial skin pain; 2) you should NOT be put-off by needles; 3) there are a few moments where it feels like your skin is being "ground" but it is brief and the pain stops as soon as the needle is removed; 4) it will take awhile to have a tattoo; my little one took 2 hours; 5) afterwards it feels hot with a little residual pain, but nothing horrible. Within an hour there was no pain or discomfort at all.

My surgeon gave me a clean bill of health, and get this! When I asked, "So this means we won't see each other again?" He actually seemed sad to see me go, but it was a facial expression—and the way that he took a moment to pause and reflect. I don't recall what he exactly said, but I'd have to say that he struck me as a bit sentimental like I was feeling.

Over the years I've had only one other surgeon whom I felt was worth his salt. I terribly missed parting with him. He was an absolute jewel. I never thought I'd find someone as special as him, and well...I did. I recall now what Dr. S said. To paraphrase him: If you ever need surgery again, I'll be here; I'm not going anywhere. It almost makes me wish I needed to have surgery again! (Misty eyed gulp)

Then I popped into my mom's LYS and did a little seeking and checking of inventory. I want to buy some nifty yarn for the people in bloggy land that I love, but I am overwhelmed with what certain people would like. She has some silk/wool and 100% silk yarns. She has some wool. She has a ton of sock yarn. She has fur and eyelash yarns for foo-foo scarves. She has regular worsted weight, DK weight, sport weight, fingering weight, and chunky. She has every size of DMC thread they make. She has the accessories and gadgets. She has rosewood knitting needles. If you are curious, why not stop by the website I made her?

So I left with only buying a few goodies for my secret pal, and then I stocked up on size 40 thread, and decided to try to make something in size 80 and size 100 threads. I was thinking I'd make a Patricia Kristoffersen doily in size 80, one of her less evil patterns, as it seems that the grand champion doily was this size, plus it was an intermediate design. I think with the size 100 I will also make a PK doily that isn't too complex, but has some spice to it.

The size 40 doily I plan on making the leaf-shaped doily from Yoko Suzuki that I have been dying to make since whenever.

I got some size 8 thread to make multiple eyeballs when I finally decide to crochet again. Which will be soon. I can feel the desire starting to creep back into my system. My left hand that was nerve damaged by an IV is almost healed. I have 90% of the sensation back and I'm ready to take hook into hand. I have found a way to keep the kittens from attacking my materials.

Why, oh why do kittens love balls of yarn and thread? What is so alluring to them? Some day I will come to understand the mystique.

Meanwhile, I recently indulged and bought Season 1 of The Muppet Show. Was this wonderful show really made 29 years ago? It seems so timeless—until you realize that Florence Henderson is wearing a Dorothy Hamill hair-don't and that Paul Williams hasn't been on prime-time TV since The Love Boat went of the air.

Now, before I make too many wise-cracks about Paul Williams, I'd like to sing two praises regarding him. First, he was born on September 19th (a rather special day indeed). Second, he gave the world this:

Love Exciting and New
come aboard, we're expecting you

The Love Boat
soon will be making another run
The Love Boat
promises something for everyone

Set a course for adventure,
your mind's on a new romance

And Love
won't hurt anymore
it's an open smile
on a friendly shore

It's Love
Welcome aboard it's love

(He really he wrote the lyrics to The Love Boat theme song, explaining his ubiquitous presence onboard.) But what we should sincerely thank him for is this:

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that
and someone believed it,
and look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing?
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell,
we know that it's probably magic....

Have you been half asleep
and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.
La, la la, La, la la la, La Laa, la la, La, La la laaaaaaa

I've got a wedding to beam off to at noon. The ceremony is 90 minutes away, but I'm getting paid good money for this one.

On Thursday when I drove up to the rehearsal for this wedding, Pooky got a call to interview at Home Depot (the new one that just opened in town).

So he get's spiffed up the next day, and while he's interviewing I get my hair cut and spend some money in the dollar store (I found some great things!).

We agree to meet at Wendy's for a quick meal since we knew it would be our lunch time. I take my time thinking he'll be awhile, but apparently he got done with his interview and went to the salon just five minutes after I left! Well, long story short: the upshot is he wasn't exactly being interviewed. What they did was made him a job offer to work in the flooring department that he couldn't refuse!

They didn't match his previous Home Depot wage, docking it about a dollar, but told him in 90 days he'll get a raise. He'll be getting $14/hr which is $4/hr more than his current job, and he still gets tuition reimbursement and medical. No, Home Depot doesn't give employee discounts! But, he does have access to clearance items as soon as they go on the shelves, and he's been able to get some good deals.

I don't know if he medical will cover me, being I'm pre-existing and all and costing money with prescriptions for the ostomy supplies; however, he'll get too much money a month and my SSI will end, which means my Medicaid will be axed, so I hope that his medical will cover me. He'll make too much money for me to go on the state medical plan that is for people without insurance.

Don't you just love cracks in the system? I'm sure they design these benefit programs to be as leaky as possible so that they don't have to extend them to you.

Well, we've survived this long, so I'm sure we'll find a way to continue to live and breathe. What sucks is though that this month I've been swamped with weddings (one each weekend just about) and that they've been big paying, next month I'll be lucky if I have one or two weddings. No one gets married in November. It just isn't a popular month.

Now, at the end of December around Christmas and just before New Year's there is a mad rush of weddings and last year I did two or three of them. I hope there will be more. The receptionist at the courthouse said that the busy time of year is coming up and she told me to put out my business cards. There are 3 other officiants with their cards on the counter, and out of curiosity I'll be inquiring what their fees are to see what the competition is doing.

What is worse is January and February are very lean months for weddings. You'd think that Valentine's Day would be the time for couples to marry, but if they do, that haven't come to me. I suppose I can't really say what the trend is since I've only had one experience with those months. In September I celebrated my 18-month anniversary of being in business.

Well, I'd just like to crawl back into bed and sleep this day away. I feel cold, tired, hungry, and would like nothing more than to snuggle up with a book, then drift into a restful, dreamy state of consciousness.

P.S. We watched White Noise last night. Not very scary, and I found some gaps in the plot. The movie gave just enough realism to the movie to make it seem plausible, up until the evil spirits started hurting people.

As for the reality of EVP, I do know that it has been studied and though "reputable scientists" would deny the authenticity of such recordings, there are scientists who study EVP, and I think it is genuine. If our spirits are a form of electromagnetic vibration, then it would stand to reason that after death in our pure energy form of electromagnetic energy that we could manipulate other forms of electromagnetic energy such as TV signals and tape recorders.

I could carry on about how some physicists have their head in the sand about such things, but more and more there are open-minded folks who take it seriously and are showing us that auras are real and not just something certain people image they see. The researchers have found that when a person is ill, the aura does give off a different signal.

Anyhow...I need to get warmed up and find a snack to eat. Go to sleep for me if you have the chance!

Breaking News

The Snow Peas aren't on hold. I am meeting with a couple at 1pm tomorrow and I'll be going by the Asian market neighborhood so I'll be stopping for them and some other things. So be on the look-out for crunchy green pea-ness to be coming your way!

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I get an e-mail this morning from one of my professors asking why I wasn't there at 9:30 this morning for the scheduled meeting? I flipped shit! So I looked back to the original message she sent to me about the date and time of the meeting, 'cause I know she said the 8th. Her original message said Friday, Oct. 8th. I focused in on the 8th, not making the connection that Friday was the 7th. I informed her of this mix-up, and so she granted me a reschedule on the 13th. She said she didn't know if the other 2 professors will be available, but she did say that they discussed "some ideas about how to keep you looped into the fall community while you are making up the missed curriculum."

So...does that mean I don't get to switch to Winter? Why keep me in the loop with the fall community? Let's put it this way: I post e-mails to the group's Yahoo group and people do respond back, but typically I don't get back the responses I'm looking for. I have the feeling that I am being patronized by my classmates, that they already have disassociated from me. I know they say that it is hard to detect what people are thinking/feeling from e-mails, and quite possibly I am projecting how I feel inside onto them, but one thing is for certain: No one called me from my class when I was in the hospital. No one sent e-mails asking how I was doing. At first I got a few cards from people but it was more like giving me platitudes and not genuine care.

The one gal whom I thought was my friend disconnected from when I made a comment about her son's behavior, and that pushed her button too hard. Even though she said she wanted to get together and work out our "crunch" when I was well this summer during August I contacted her and she said she was too busy. Thus, the one person I had any attachment to in the fall class has been diminished.

When I announced to my classmates on the Yahoo group board that I wouldn't be continuing with them, a few said "that's too bad" (again, sounding more like a platitude) and that was it. I have told myself the story that no one has batted an eyelash over my not being part of the class anymore.

So, what I really wanted to post was that my trip to the Asian market is on hold until the 13^th. There isn't a reason for me to go up there just to go to the market. I never heard back from a prospective bride about where to meet for lunch to discuss her wedding of the 15^th. I tend to think she may have just gotten the scripts out of me and has someone else doing the ceremony...I don't know.

And along those lines: the groom who called to say he was sending out the check that day (the couple I sent the letter to and have had the problem with)—well, the check hasn't arrived. It should only take one business day to get to us, so I'm going to have to call and express my concern that I haven't yet received the check and worry that it may have gotten lost or misdirected.

Thank You, Deneen!

I received the scarf and hat and kitty-cat pin in yesterday's mail (belated b-day gift). It matches the poncho you made me—how cool! The kitties got to it, and no, they didn't destroy it, but I didn't think the little devils would attack it. Evil beasts! So I've made sure to tuck it safely away out of the reach of their meddling paws.

You are right, I hate fringe! This autumn I'll be covered in Homespun and it is so soft! And I love the color (as you know).

Your Hair Should Be Purple

Intense, thoughtful, and unconventional. You're always philosophizing and inspiring others with your insights.

Swiped from Kari because she kicks ass and is a trend setting wonder Shrone!

I see a lot of movie in a week on DVD. The last one to make an impression was Kevin Spacey's Beyond the Sea. What stood about about this was that Spacey reveals that he can sing and dance—imagine that! Who woulda thunk it? He's one of the actors I've had a mild obsession with; others include Colin Firth and Gary Sinise. (With each of these actors I went through a phase of watching just about every film they ever made. Mind you I didn't have "crushes" on these men, just found them to be fascinating to watch.)

I also recently found out that the new released Elizabethtown that will get every teenage girl into theater (dragging a reluctant boyfriend) because of Orlando Bloom, stars Paula Deen! Yes, the southern butter-using cooking maven has left the kitchen! I just got in the mail yesterday two of her cookbooks and was a bit disappointed to find that Paula doesn't always cook from scratch but uses some processed food ingredients from time to time (tsk, tsk!).

I cost me $8, but I sent the bride who hadn't paid me the remaining balance a lengthy letter explaining a few things to her, such as I would be willing to negotiate with her, but that also she had entered into a legal contract with me, and that I upheld my end of the deal, and she needed to uphold hers, and that if I didn't hear from her by tomorow, I'd be filing the paperwork for small claims court. I also explained to her that she technically wasn't legally married until I filed the paperwork with the County Auditor and wouldn't do so until I was paid.

Just a moment ago I received a call from her husband saying that he would be sending the check out to me today and that he was sorry for the inconvenience! I don't want to count my chickens before the check is in hand, but it would seem that my letter got through to them!

I would have to say that my $8 was well spent! Far better than having to do the small claims court route, which I found out isn't that, but rather I'd have to go to a place called a Dispute Resolution Center that would provide a mediator for us to work out the problem.

I can see something like that working for div