You know who you are!

I have bee trying to register a new blog tonight to use for my art. I want to call it "Little Grey Kitty" after my, well... little grey kitty. She is always here helping me work by shedding in my paint, or clawing my leg, or scattering little screws or buttons that I have meticulously laid out all over the place. If I'm lucky, I can get her to sleep on a chair next to mine and her little wheezes comfort me.

Anyways, I've been trying to register a name having to do with this- "greykitty", "littlegrey", "littlegreykitty", "littlegreycat", and etc are all taken. And they are all taken by people who either never posted anything, or who's last posts were in 2002. I'm really annoyed at these people who registered a great name and then wasted it. There should be a way to contact them and ask them to transfer the name. (Even if they delete the account, the name will still be "taken" for all eternity, that's how it works apparently). I would even pay them for use of the name.

I guess I will have to try another blog website. I REALLY don't want to do that. It is so nice to have the multiple blogs all linked here. And I HATE wordpress. I started a blog there and it took me several hours just to figure out how to make a new post. And I am not internet illiterate.

Sigh.

Someone's missing a piece

If you are dressed like a prostitute, you may very likely be called a prostitute, mistaken for a prostitute and treated like a prostitute. What is the big mystery here?

Who am I?

If my brain was directly linked with some sort of typewriter device that would automatically write my more wordy thoughts, I would have so many book deals. I can be totally eloquent sometimes. But the path from mind to hand is fraught with many a peril and most thoughts do not survive the trek. Many a good revelation has perished in those woods. I weep for them.

I have not watched Boston Legal since I spoke of it last. I've never been one for dramas. LOST was the only exception, simply because I knew it had a definite end date and the building mystery was pretty enticing. Also, everyone I knew was watching it. I was pretty disappointed in the ending. I won't go into that now- or probably ever.

For some reason I was thinking about the whole Casey Anthony thing yesterday. It just randomly popped into my head. I remember when the verdict was being decided and facebook was completely flooded with everyone's opinion. Apparently, everyone thought that everyone else cared what they personally felt about a person they had never met and knew nothing but speculation about.

I purposefully avoided reading much of the banter along with any news casts and internet news updates about the whole thing. I did read a news article detailing a few aspects of the case which focused mainly on which allegations and details were proven and which were purely speculation.

One "friend" (I use the term only in the facebook sense because I hardly even know this person) said something about how awful it was for a mom to put duct tape on her little babies mouth. Or something more white trashy like "that little baby shouldn'ta never had duck tape put on her little mouth, that's so awful!" The article I read specifically mentioned that duct tape was not on Caylee and that there was no evidence that there had ever been duct tape. I'm not saying I believe the article any more than anything else, but there it is.

I have two thoughts about all these people who glued themselves to this trial. First- how stupid are you that you believe everything you hear on the news. You do realize that it is a network television program, right? A network that relies on advertisers for funding and advertisers decide this based on how many viewers there are. They want your views and your ratings! The world is simply not exciting enough all the time to feed this need, especially when there are several other competing news shows. The news media presents what they think will get the most people to watch. That means riling you up by speculating. Sometimes facts just aren't as interesting. Sometimes, they don't have enough facts to fill an entire hour, much less a day. And sometimes people who don't want you to know the facts have money and the news media is more than happy to be paid off. Even if the news media is telling the truth- it's RARELY the WHOLE truth, and it's very often MORE than the truth.

Second- HOW DARE YOU judge this one woman. Who are you to do this? Unless you are on the jury, you have no right or reason. I aim this mainly to my "friends" who claim they are Christians. I can cite scripture all night about this subject, but you should know them already and if you don't then google it. I'll give you the gist though- something, something, vengeance is mine, says the Lord, I WILL REPAY, something something, forgiveness, something something love your enemies and pray for them, something something, even the man closest to God's own heart was a MURDERER, something something, all sins are equal, something something don't you have anything better to talk about, etc. I was appalled at the level of hate I saw coming from some people. Don't you ever stop and think- I don't know this woman. I don't know what her background is, what her childhood was like, what is truly in her heart. I can't judge her. I do know that she has a soul, just like me, and it needs Jesus just like I do. How can knowing that not just break your heart? We ALL have sinned and are fallen short. Even if you think you have never done anything wrong in your whole life- never told a lie, never treated someone in a way you would not have liked to be treated, never lusted, you STILL aren't good enough and save for the grace of God are no better than Casey Anthony. Get over yourself.

Boston Legal

It's 5 something in the morning. I haven't been able to sleep yet, so I came out to the couch to watch reruns of Home Improvement that come on at 3am Wednesday mornings. Every morning at 5, Boston Legal comes on. Sometimes I catch a few minutes of it on the tail end of a recording of Home Improvement. I noticed I recognized almost every actor in it from other shows I've seen before.

Tonight it came on and since I was watching TV real-time I let it play. I gotta say, it's not a bad show. Of course, I've only seen one episode, but the characters seem so dynamic and interesting yet remain lovable. There's the smooth, suave, logical, good-looking main dude. The doe-eyed, innocent, side-dude. The man-eater. The crazy, scatterbrain woman. In many ways it's like 30 Rock.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I like Boston Legal. There I said it.

herutfghy

i... am.... so.... tired.

i must stay awake now for another half-hour or so. if i fall asleep now, i risk missing a phone call. the call is unimportant, but i suppose it is fairly important that i take it. i dont want to be one of 'those' people. you know, the ones you call and speak to, then hang up with the agreement that you will call again in a short time period. less than 2 hours. you call them again and they dont answer and you dont hear from them again for three days when they finally call and act like no time has passed. act like there is nothing at all wrong or weird about the time they let pass. what is up with that. am i right people.

it sounds like there are people stacking garden tools at both my front and back doors. it helps that our front yard is basically our neighbors driveway. and our backyard is right up in the business of our neighbors backyards. so the houses are close together, what of it. so our neighbor uses his leaf-blower on our front doorstep every few days and blows all the blooms off my plants and knocks over the gnome statue and makes the dog bark. i am so tired right now. i am on a couch that is like a raft buffeted in an ocean of chirping birds, swirling area rugs, antique yellow sunlight, fluttering leaves, dilapidated, half-taken-down christmas trees, and neglected yard-work.

i dont want to feed grandma bacon while she's in the bathtub. the television is muted but the flashing pictures are incredibly annoyingly distracting. are these thousand words worth a picture? is time up yet? i dont know how much longer i can wait for this call i dont even want to receive. the call will determine whether i can finally go to sleep or if i have to get in the car with no air conditioning and try to drive to a destination in the oppressive floridian heat and act pleased to see the people i will meet. oh to suffer a massive stroke right now. i want to forget what the number seven is. I would recover. and by the time I did, people would be used to me not being able to do anything. and so anything I did do, would just be gravy. wouldn't that be gravy?

i have about five more minutes to wait. the waiting is the hardest part. also, wondering what i will say. what will they say? will they have mercy? i predict that they may be oblivious to my distress and that that will distress me further.

there's the call.

oh, they are coming here. no questions asked. oh glory, thank you, thank you.

i bid you all goodnight.

Many things

I have many things I will type about soon.

I'm going to list them to hold your attention (is there anybody out there?) and also so I don't forget.

Sacrificing your family for the good of a stranger.
The yellow jacket nest in my car and the series of events following.
The semi-truck in the neighbor's back yard.
Thoughts on buying a house/being in debt.
Thoughts on they way we should regard leaders and authority figures, especially rulers of our nation.
When I dug a flower bed and we didn't have internet for a week.
When I pooped my pants because I was too busy trying to finish this list.

Later.

Bad dog!

This morning I was having the most delightful dream. I was in a bar with Danny Masterson and we were talking to a woman who was recounting her former life as a meth head and how she was saved from that fate. Cut to me being released from a psych ward. (?) It is a grey, rainy day. I am escorted to a car by an older woman. A child walks next to me and we look at water drops on flowers and enjoy the misty breeze on our faces. Then for some reason we are at a school. (I often dream about schools) We are walking outside the buildings and it is between classes so there are children everywhere and it is very crowded. I am constantly bumping into them, but their images are all blurry, and the roar of their voices is very muted. All I can hear is quiet piano music and all I can see is the red brick and concrete architecture of the old school buildings.

Cut to me and the escort woman in a room. There is an entire wall of windows and they look out onto a rocky bay with waves crashing. I ask her why she can't just leave me alone and she asks if I am happy. I begin to try to explain my feelings. The perfect description begins to weave together- with the most perfect words and metaphors.........

And I wake up. And I try to write some of the monologue down before I forget it. But the dog is scratching at the door so I take him out. He pees and then proceeds to run around to a few regular spots he runs to where there is usually a lizard and generally act dumb and distracted. I then realize that I should have gone to the bathroom before I took him because I am about to wet myself. So I leave him on the screen porch and run to the bathroom. NO LONGER than ONE minute later, I return to take him back out and he has pooped ALL OVER the rug out there. I scold him righteously and put him outside.

I then walk into the kitchen for some coffee. When I get to the kitchen, I smell poo. I check my shoes.. clean. Must just be imagining it. I pour some coffee into a mug and see a brown smudge on my arm. *sniff* *gag* *barf, die, etc* Somehow poo got on my arm. So I washed it like a surgeon washes before surgery and then changed my clothes all the while cursing the entire canine race.

This is why I hate to get up in the morning. You leave the world of peace and rain and surreal vignettes only to be pooped on.