Newscoma

I have spent the last two weeks running.

Vibinc kept the fires going over at Speak to Power and Squirrel Queen was patient because last week, and for three days this week, I didn’t even have time to think. That could be good or it could be bad, one never knows until they get the hindsight glasses on.

I find myself talking about politics a great deal, as that’s what I sorta do now, but I am having to physically and verbally set some boundaries about it because my brain gets a bit overfull.

So last night, I drowned myself in bad television, ate a bowl of tomato soup which is my comfort food and tried to heal a sore throat.

Tis my own fault as I sometimes forget to wear a jacket.

Cheetos Gazing

I’m feeling a bit disconnected with Hoots right now for the mere fact that I’m not here. When I’m here, it is usually doing some recovery time from driving, neuron malfunctions and spending time with my family. The time spent unemployed did have a positive impact where friendships were nurtured because I had the time to spend with friends without having to be confined to a schedule. Now my time is more limited and I’m having to get back in a routine of organization and structure, which isn’t always easy when you are living out of a suitcase. I have it easier that most and I don’t know how the bossman does it, but he does. Don’t get me wrong, I love traveling but there are times that I just need to take out my brain, put it in the refrigerator and take a cranium break. I plan on doing that on Monday. Yes, campers, I plan for my mental health breaks these days. I know, fascinating.

Today, I head back to Memphis for the evening as I’m going to a wedding shower and SQ has a tournament game she has to attend for work. Yeppers, it’s high school tournament time again which means the Squirrel Goddess doesn’t know where she’s going to be from one game to the next. As I have barely seen her since the beginning of the year, I’m going to travel with her a bit in the next week. Work is work, but you have to concentrate on your relationships too. It’s important.

And, as I’m having to schedule myself (I am as unorganized as a squirrel who’s licked the bottom of an abandoned cooler of anhydrous for meth making) I’m having to learn to be more assertive about time, which you kinda lose when you aren’t working. I have learned that I have had to regain that ability to say Yes, No and Argh.

Anyway, it’s not too bad really because I like being busy and useful.

One good thing about Hoots is that when I returned late Thursday, I got to hear ghost stories, as you know that I love, about a local bar and grill.

There aren’t complaints here in the least, just learning new things about myself, meeting fabulous new people and trying to get through the transition that is life. Speaking of meeting amazing new people, Rep. Jeanne Richardson has given me a new addiction, which is Memphis-styled collard greens.
I could eat them everyday. Thanks Jeanne!

I think I need collard greens rehab because they are incredible.

We haven’t delved into the land of the AABs recently mainly because there has been a lot going on, I’ve been a bit overwhelmed and I’m going through some pretty terrifying life changes right now. I don’t think anyone really wants to read a post with the only word on the page being “AaaaaRRRrrrrggghhhhhHHH!”

As you know, on the 2nd day of this new year, tragedy struck our beloved friend Steve in Memphis. I’ve written before I’ve never seen such love and devotion in a group of people, from other bloggers to friends (new and permanent for me I hope) and family gathering around this fine man to help him go through this tragedy. Watching the pain and found glimpses of joy in the ruins was awe-inspiring. The idea of even writing an AAB during this time seemed unseemly to me. It was about others and not me. And it taught me valuable lessons as I sit here three weeks later looking back at the events in this new year. During times of tragedy, you see what people are made of that you’ve known but are given more depth to. The quiet strength of bloggers Dabney and Glen, the continual presences of Rick Maynard and Jon Carroll, who were always there when Steve needed them, Smack who continued to smile for us when we could not, the big heart of Ross (who would most likely call me an ass for letting  you know that he’s absolutely one of the best guys around) and the words of other bloggers around the state who checked in, wanting to help knowing that all they could do was send words of support and love for our friend.

And it continues, Steve beamed last week when Chris Davis brought him a roast after the immediate dishes that came after the funeral were long gone. It was just what he needed as the reality continues to hit him.

Strength and kindness from around the state and in Memphis was amazing and it continues.

The day that we got the news about Lauren, some things had happened here in Hoots that pretty much wrote the writing on the wall that our lives were fixing to change here too. In Ernest Hemingway’s novel, For Whom The Bell Tolls, talks of death not only of those we love but of times in our lives that have come to an end or at least that’s how I remember it. I’ve thought about that book a lot lately.

How as much as we fight to protect what we have, it might not be enough.

I’m having to make some changes, as Pilar said in For Whom The Bell Tolls, because I have been “deaf to the music” about things going on here in Hoots. She says, “One who is deaf cannot hear the music …”

I have been deaf.

I realize this sitting here with a cup of coffee that is getting cold next to me as this $300 laptop sits on my lap. I’ve been deaf because I thought it was going to be okay, and although it will be, I’m going to have to make huge and massive changes quickly where their will be separation and loss of a life that I’ve led for nearly 20 years here in Hoots. If you are wondering, I’m terrified. Leaving the familiar to something completely unknown is astonishingly frightening, especially because I feel all of my 44 years right now. It wasn’t supposed to be this way but it is. Life doesn’t always go down the path you thought it would. I tried to make it a go here in my beloved Hoots, but it’s just not going to happen I’m afraid. I will take the first steps in rebuilding what has been lost.

Since being downsized last year, things have changed and it is time for me to, as I say to other people and usually politicians, to control my own story. Hopefully you will join me in this quest that will probably start soon. I will be in a new locale shortly and with that, I will be looking at new opportunities, working my p/t day job for a man I do believe in and serve coffee or tend bar at night to make sure the bills get paid.  There is no blame, it just is what it is.

This is a different world from that one of my parents and you do what you have to do.

So there will be more to say in the coming months. And I will say it because you know how I am.

Am I scared? You betcha.

And was this hard to write? More than you will ever know, my friends, more than I can express into words.

As the rain came down across the state last week, folks like me who sit in my mother’s basement in my pajamas who blog can, and do, go through withdrawals when the Internet is not readily available and I can’t regale you. I dig regaling. The ‘tubes in Hoots East have been down since last Friday. I have it at work, but not at Casa Coma.
Yeppers, it’s been of the suck, but there really is no reason to get stabby about it although it has been highly inconvenient.
I have realized a couple of things recently. First of all, I’m bored out of my mind right now. I go through this about three times a year. I don’t like to tell people I’m bored because there is always the wise guy out there that says, “If you are bored, you are boring.”
I am not denying that I’m boring. I am not denying I’m probably depressed as hell because even though my love of Hoots is strong, sometimes I need a change of scenery.
So, let’s recap some of the sights and sounds of Hoots as I must amuse myself quickly or I might pass out. Boredom, as in news, can also put one in a coma.

A very sad Friday night at the carnival in Hoots

Seen and Heard:

• There were horses. There are always horses at the Iris Festival. Of course, they are always at the back of the parade line due to obvious reasons.
• There were clowns. They were not too scary as they were sitting on the sidewalk and one was on a cell phone texting non-stop. A texting clown seems somewhat harmless to me but I was still cautious. Nothing like a texting ANGRY clown who might go postal, as I’m a believer that a clown can turn on a dime, so I kept my distance.
• I saw Rep. Mark Maddox on Saturday and asked him why he wasn’t at the TNDP summit in Monteagle. He, in fine political bantering form, said, “I’m here with 7,000 of my best friends.” I concur there were a lot of best friends around our neck of the woods who were wet and tired but I tend to believe that that number was much smaller than that. This is Hoots for crying out loud. Maybe that’s just me.
• Another man said that when Ned McWherter talks about his son’s race, he refers to it as “our” race. I found that to be interesting.
• Folks who own juke joints around here are still wondering why they haven’t been contacted about the guns in restaurant bills. All of them say they will put up the obligatory sign saying, ironically, “No guns in this juke joint.” I’m still perplexed why this is going on when I just, I don’t know, want my one vote to count and I have decided for the fifth year in a row that I want a paper receipt when I vote. I can get one at Burger King and it’s easy. Why is not easy on something as important as voting.
• My oldest niece is throwing up today, which most likely will curb my Cinco De Mayo plans. Carnival food, the Aporkalypse scare and bad weather will do that to you. (I told you I was boring this week.) I, sadly, did not get any carnival food.
• A Chinese restaurant opened up in Hoots in the same place the last one, which closed down last year, was located. They had a California roll on the buffet. I am happy to report there was absolutely no ham in it. This is a fine revelation. Other than one of the local leaders yelling at the new proprietors about something stupid and permanently making the entire restaurant want to neck punch her for being rude, the new restaurant seems to be rather groovy.
• I saw a girl cry in another eatery whom I didn’t know. She was with a girl I did know who was trying to comfort her over what seemed to be boyfriend problems. After eavesdropping for a few minutes, I realized that this boy was seriously playing some mind kung fu on this girl. I am pretty good at the comforting thing, but yesterday, it just made me very tired and extremely sad. This young woman wasn’t going anywhere, I recognized that immediately but I foresee a world of hurt for her in the future because the things this guy was saying to her on her cell were plum awful. She kept saying they would work it out but I’m not so sure. I left feeling a little bit afraid for her.

Although I wasn’t online, I wrote quite a bit this weekend. So, fair readers, I have a question for you that needs immediate attention. Why am I so enamored with vampires and Memphis? This has been an ongoing theme for me the past few days. Talk amongst yourself and get back to me with your opinions.

Did I mention that I am bored and depressed? I did?
Forgive me.

I don’t know what happened to that wrestling dude’s head, but I have a feeling he did something to irritate the 8-year-old boy who showed him to me last year. It was sitting on my cell phone and I found it recently.

It’s sort of how I feel this past few days.

I’ve been acting very odd recently. What I mean is that I’ve been running 90 to nothing, as the saying goes, and as it happens every time about this time of year, and I have no idea if I’m getting anything accomplished. Spring is busy for everyone, and it is what it is, to quote Chez Bez as I’m wont to do. I’m worrying more than I usually do and then I try to drown myself into doing more than I should be.

I also am finding myself getting very irritated because I try very hard not to call the Whambulance. I think I succeed in this to a degree, but alas, I’m human. There is so much more that I could say to my real-life friends and family that I don’t.

It’s just not that important in the long run.

I’ve even considered putting Newscoma on hiatus for awhile and just posting over at NewsTechZilla exclusively, but I’m sort of smitten with this blog thing here in Hoots, so I guess that just means I’m a bit tired. And, I’m a Growed-Up (that’s a Homerism) so I realize that getting a bit disconcerted some of the time is natural and expected. What I need is a beach. On the paltry amount of money I make, I can afford a lake, but at least there is that and I’m not complaining.

My friend swims. I’m thinking about taking this up because she seems to glow after she hits the pool for an hour. I might have to take this up as it intrigues me.

Steering into middle-age is an odd thing, campers. And we have these bouts of losing our self-confidence/mojo and anyone who tells you different is … well, let’s just say it’s normal.

Yesterday, my nose was bleeding every couple of hours and I was feeling quite poorly. This might be stress but I think it’s probably a sinus infection coming on as the weather hates us in Tennessee and I’ve been out in the rain getting soaked about five times in the past two weeks. The wonderful people I work with let me go home and I did nothing for awhile, but I was so worried that I might be missing something, I almost got up and went back to work. There are times that your intrepid ‘Coma needs to make appearances for her only funding stream, so I started chewing my battered nails over missing two events that I felt were important. Other folks went, but I just felt like I needed to be there. Apparently there was a sign from the heavens when my nose became a faucet for the fourth, and last, time of the day.

I just went to bed. I’m also feeling a hermit phase come on, but that happens to me occasionally and is part of my charm. (snark:/)

I’ve been seeking, as I’ve been doing for the last two years, job opportunities across the area and may have to expand my field of distance. Every time I get a bite, something happens which makes it impossible, people want me to work for free or the paid freelance opportunities (basically my preference at this point except for the fear of losing already paltry health insurance) has fallen into the toilet. I keep wondering what I’m doing wrong. Maybe it’s not that, maybe it’s just not in the picture. Anyway, it wears on you after awhile when you know that the ship you are on is in choppy waters and there is not enough Dramamine to keep that queasy feeling out of the pit of your stomach.

I played with the remaining two puppies late yesterday as I sat alone in the commune. They romped and stomped, licked and bit my toes and all was right with the world. The last two adopted puppies leave on Thursday to a lovely young woman and her roommate I met at Centennial Park when I delivered Sharon and Sarcastro their puppies a couple of weeks ago. I know they will love them. I do too, although Mabel will most likely be delighted as they like to chase her about the house. Mabel keeps her cool though, and that my friends, is of the good.

She’s a trooper.

So, that’s my monthly, these days, autobiographical pause. Ready to suck it up, do what I have to do and pat Mabel on the head twice, as she deserves it.

I am a woman that likes people. I’m pretty social but I’m shy about certain things. I can be braggadocios about some things and very mum on others. Sometimes I’m bigger than life, but probably the truest aspect of me is when I’m home alone, playing with the dogs and pondering my next move. That’s the woman who feels things very deeply. I’m not unique, we all have our inner moments where we find our balance.

And then I go google something innane like Zombie Chickens to amuse myself.

I realized that over the years, because I have a nontraditional family, that I have created my own tribe. What I mean by this is, that sometimes you just hang out with folks, and then there are other times you realize that you have built a tribe of people around you that gets you even when you don’t get yourself.

Last night in Hoots, I had that sense of building new relationships, ones that I honestly enjoy. And this morning, there was a gentleness in my home of a bit of fear about what’s going to happen next and that, for the time being, enjoying the people around me who were laughing, talking of mundane things like dinner and when Pinks’ puppies will arrive. We made a bet for bragging rights on how many she will have. I went with 7, Squirrel Queen with 6, Squeegee Monkey took 8 and Homer was just ready for them to get here because Pinks is miserable.

Of course, Homer was the only person in the room who had ever given birth so I adhere to her mother goddess who knows these things.

We laughed over Homer’s obsession with always having chapstick within arm’s length, of how IPods have given us a much-needed soundtrack for our daily lives and how Squirrel Queen really is the only person we know that can sew buttons on a shirt without it becoming a disaster. We talked about the 50 flamingos in Rep. Mark Maddox’s yard which is in our neighborhood and how when we see him out, how we are going to tease him as he hit the half-century mark last week. Homer patted her oldest daughter’s hair in a way that only a mother can do. She really didn’t even know she was doing it.

Glimpses. Moments. Part of our lives that are here and gone.

Our tribe of family is strong. Our tribe of friends is necessary and important. How we can say what we want and be ourselves, no matter how nuts we can be at times. We require nothing from each other but respect and appreciation and an unsaid understanding that we are, in essence, understood without judgment.

We talked of trains with a new friend last night. I wondered this morning if a hobo could travel with a computer on a train. I wondered if hobos even exist anymore.

I imagine they do.

My tribe understands that I will look up zombie chickens, ponder about hobos and smile at 50  birthday flamingos.

They know these things and I am in their tribe as well.

Random thoughts on a gray Sunday.

1. Why do people martyr themselves to come to work sick when it only makes other people sick? Argh!
2. As I’m not a fan of House Calls on CNN, the idea that Sanjay Gupta being Surgeon General oddly feels okay to me as long as they don’t replace the show with Lou Dobbs, who gives me an abnormal shake of rage and fear when he is on the air. I also wonder if this is a CNN ploy for attention although I hope not. I kinda like Sanjay.
3. Why can I write anything for anybody other than things that really matter like neurosurgery yet I cannot write my own resume? Why is this?
4. I helped Squirrel Queen not annihilate someone this evening who definitely needed annihilating. I was, oddly, the voice of reason against someone who was spouting off idiocy when it wasn’t deserved. My excuse: they weren’t worth it. SQ finally saw my point. Go here and look at bananas exploding on some dude’s head at her blog.
5. I’m still sort of smitten with Pinkey, however, I’ve kept my distance. When I move, and it will happen, I think I will miss her. She has become beloved by the nieces.
6. Huh?
7. This is brilliant.
8. Best and most disturbing Christmas present ever!
9. Very cool theory on The Joker. I vote for Lou Dobbs to be the Joker but that, of course, is reality and not a movie. (Sorry Lou, you are on my mind today.)
10. My blind dog has taken to barking at the toilet, even when she is alone in the bathroom. I believed after I saw Jaws as a child that sharks might be able to bite me in the bathroom in landlocked Tennessee. This, of course, is a sad fact that I’m reporting to you from my ill-begotten days of my youth. It also could be a sign that I’m not that smart. I felt like this is something you probably needed to know.

Image Credit

As Newscoma was off-line for a about a day and a half, I think we are back. If not, I’m writing this to myself.

This weekend was quite wonderful (even though SQ and I both have a cold from hell. I’m finding that this is true of everyone I know. I’m calling it Captain Trips as we are all snot-a-riffic. If it’s not the coughing getting you, it’s the drowning in your own fluids. Damn you, Captain Trips.)

kd lang was wonderful and we went with our contest winners Fried Apple Pie and The Little Red-Headed Girl, whom are lovely and fun. For SQ and I, lang was amazing. She sings with such strength and resonance that it sweeps through you. She is incredible and I was pleased to see her on stage although I’m sure that I gave everyone Captain Trips at the Ryman.

I am generous that way.

On our way back to cover the soccer finals and Octoberfest at Hoots, we ran into Sarcastro at Target, where we discussed midgets, the state of the nation, Emmylou Harris and that after years of not living in Nashville that my georgraphical information regarding the ‘burbs is poor. And you need to see the video over at his place. I’ve watched it at least five times.

Thus, back in Hoots, we went to Octoberfest, where we visited, took a few pictures and I curled up into a regular coma on Sunday while my blog floated out in cyberspace, lost and lonely without my tender loving care.

One last note, eight more days of the election. Then we see what happens because after the election in 2000, it ain’t over until it’s over.

He has a shock of premature gray hair and everyday that he’s not on the road as a truck driver, he is sitting at Cadillac’s watching his “stories.”

We call him Mouse as that is his name.

The power went out Friday and so Badger, SQ and I went down for an early brew as well as some fellowship at the local tavern. He was watching Days of Our Lives.

I haven’t seen DOOL in roughly 25 years because it was my grandmother’s favorite soaper and I grew up, went to work and, quite frankly, forgot about it.

The old faces were still there. Hope and Bo (Hope looks like Skeletor) and even Julie was still around.

Apparently Stefano has come back from the dead roughly 20 times, as has Victor. Mouse was explaining to us what was going on which was primarily the same thing that was going on back in the day when I used to watch it with my Nanny. Badger and I stopped in again yesterday for just a second as we were out taking some photos, and he was at it again.

The kicker, the joyful blessing of our Mouse encounter, was this doozy of a line from the soap.

“My porn name is Misty Circles. My dad gave me that name.”

We laughed until we cried.

We asked Mouse about his addiction to his stories. He replied, “Everyone sleeps together and nobody works. My kind of life.”

We laughed some more.

As yesterday I was having an existential crisis about my very own psyche, my purpose in this world and walking through a bit of fear (which happens sometimes) I have to say that it was good to laugh.

Just a few things about the day, as I would much rather be playing darts and hanging out on an extended staycation instead of coming off steroids from the recent bout of lung crud which has made me cranky.

1. I’m not even getting into the Sarah/Bristol Palin thing. I’m just not. It’s a private thing. I don’t dig her politics but I’m not going to get into that whole drama. Why? Because kids have sex and if you think they don’t, you are honestly not paying attention. No offense. I disagree with the whole abstinence thing because PEOPLE HAVE SEX.  They do. It’s their business, not mine. If I judge them, then I get judged (the little Presbyterian girl who lives inside of me from 1972 is kicking me in my gut about this as it was lesson #1 in my house growing up.) Not into it. Stay out of my bedroom, I’ll stay out of yours. I wasn’t voting for McCain Co. anyway. This makes no difference to me.

2. If anyone needs any help from Gustav and is around Hoots, let me know. Just send me an email at newscoma at gmail dot com and I’ll see what I can do. I know the natives and the good folks who can make a difference. We need to help each other out.

3. My blind dog is sick. I’m worried but she’s nearly 13-years-old and I’m just trying to scratch her back, as she likes it, love her and make her comfortable. There isn’t much we can do but pet her and hope for the best. Mabel and Duff keep spooning her and making her feel loved. Breaks my heart.

4. Have been investigating Nashville’s rental properties. I realize I need to sell my soul but I think it’ll be all right. Am thinking that if I have a commune here, I can have one in Nashville. What say you?

5. CNN really has a collective orgasm over hurricanes, don’t they?

6. TENNESSEE PLAYS TONIGHT!! Yay! Looking atcha Big Orange Michael.

7. Squirrel Queen is a rock star. I’m just saying.

8. It’s September? When the hell did that happen?

9. I love this post. It’s so real and honest. I just think Samantha is great and you should be reading her too.

10. This picture is still great and although I’ve posted it before, it still rocks ass.

I’m saying goodbye, in my own way, to things in Hooterville. I think I have an opportunity that I’m not ready to talk about publicly that might be on the near horizon that I want more than anything. I have my fingers crossed.

Small things I’m noticing. The way the grain mill is encased in the blue sky right out of the front door of my office. Some people think it’s unpleasant to look at but I think it’s beautiful. Faded lettering on the side of the building reminds me that it is noble job. The architecture of the empty downtown that I wish would return to it’s former glory of commerce and folks visiting on the street but I’m afraid those days are gone now.

The local artists talking of putting an art gallery next door to the Republican headquarters four doors down from the paper which pleases me to no end.

In my mind, there are thousands of visual snippets and I want to breathe each image and each word I hear in like oxygen.

The fact that one conversation with someone started making me believe in news again. I have fallen back in love with this mistress of a business, I feel more passion for the news business than I have in awhile. The way that the chief staff writer is back from a debilitating accident and how she is excited to be chasing a scoop down. It makes me pleased.

The Alumni Association’s annual parade and watching the mayor toss candy. A woman in a beautiful dress carrying an Obama fan walked by and I took her picture. She smiled.

A man working on a roof. A conversation with a man whose passion is grilling and how he talked about how much he loves to fire it up at local BBQ cookoffs. If he could, he would grill for people every day. Instead he works for the city which flattens his eyes when he speaks of it. But bringing up cooking a hog and those same eyes smile, the laugh lines come out around his the corner of his glasses. He looks older than he is. I liked him.

We saw a family of raccoons against the tree line . I ate barbecue bologna stuffed with jalapenos.

I want to remember these times.

I had a couple of beers at the local juke joint and we spoke of Bigfoot, of a man who visited me (I think he was on meth from how he was jittering) who reported he’d seen a UFO over the local trailer park. I told him I would check into it.

I listened to the local workers at Goodyear that realized that their union had let them down. They are looking at a work stoppage. There will be little pay. I watched two guys make a wager on a Nascar race while we watched the Olympics. I don’t know anything about Nascar, so I kept quiet.

I headed out driving and looking at this town. Each crack in the road, each building filled with people living their lives as best they can. I will miss it, I have no doubt. But I need more.

I am learning to live in each moment. It’s taken me 42 years to figure that out.

And the horizon beckons me.

June has been a challenging month. I feel like I may have pissed off the Gods of June who I think I will just call Vera. Vera is extremely irritated at me. I believe I’ve offended her beyond belief.

Steve Austin is still MIA and cost me a cool $1500 to get fixed (and I still don’t have him back), people sort of lost their minds this month (this of course would include me), a much-needed beach vacation had to be canceled, my poor chief staff writer had a terrible dirt bike wreck and had to have surgery, the refrigerator is dead and I have strep throat.

The drugs have made me addled. I am wandering around like a drunk monkey and Mabel is still eyeballing me warily.

Last week, as humans are wont to do, I got into the angries. I tried not to, avoided it all costs but it swept over me like a wave of a tsunami and I couldn’t stop it. Man, it just hit me. And of course I didn’t feel good not knowing I had strep, I just knew I couldn’t hear and that Vera hated me.

Today, I’m sort of laughing about it today because what else can I do. I don’t feel very good, I still can’t hear, I’m going back to work tomorrow although the docs said Wednesday but Squirrel Queen said she would help out if I got fatigued and that was more than nice. It’s a four-day work week and that’s awesome.

So, sometimes, even when Vera is irritated, it’s nice to know there is light at the end of the tunnel.

At least I’m not as addled as this guy.

Image courtesy of Hetemeel

I’ve sort of been in a cave for the month of June in an angry, bitter battle with my very own psyche that has given me internal chiggers.

Yay. I suck.

Steve Austin is still missing in action, I’ve got a wicked sinus infection of some sort so I’ve been taking random antibiotics just lying about the house that I think were for a UTI or for ailments which could be anything from Cootie protection to PMS help which is only known to the Gods, but I digress. Due to the lack of wheels and motivation, I’ve had to put the Goosepond Swamp Monster excursion on hold. All I know is that I feel like platypus vomit.

So I’ve been wondering about the innertubes, whining to my friends as I am human and then staring at a pair of yellow Crocs that I haven’t worn in over a year thinking this might give me some sign. Yeah, that’s my kind of interior design, campers. The Official Church of the Smelly-Assed, Ugly Crocs has given me no visions other that I probably should just throw them away.

I also bought a 24 oz can of Miller Lite the other day, not once but twice, which means I’m just too damned depressed or becoming a crazy dog lady with an inclination to ugly shoes.

Anytime that I believe anyone is planning life changing ideas, it can get very easy to hold on to the familiar that isn’t really healthy or productive as a lifeline. Here’s what I mean. It’s easier to do nothing and be angry/martyred about it then to DO something.

In the past year I have been trying to learn things outside my box. I fail sometimes, other times I do all right.

The one thing that escapes me is that after a very sad journey last year on a project that was halted before it even got up and started, I lost my mojo and became afraid of …. dun dun duuuuuun …

Technology and Movement.

I’ve been reading and trying to train myself but I think I’ve gone as far as I can go on my own. Now, I follow a ton of technology geeks who embrace their geekdom where I’m more of a pop culture/news/political geek. I don’t understand why Dave Winer and some guy named Loren are fighting on Friendfeed over some other guy named Shel Israel.

It seems very insidery to me and involves puppets.

You can’t make this up but I think it goes further than that.  I don’t understand the monetization of a website as well as I would like but I’m trying to learn. I may not be a techie but I am a pretty good DJ blogger for lack of a better term. I hear a lot of talk about rankings (I have a Google Page Rank of 5. I didn’t know what that meant until about two months ago. I also know I have 273 reactions on Technorati.) I think that’s alright, isn’t it?

I also know I like Brie, Import beer and sushi which I cannot get here in Hooterville, and yes, I’m still digressing.

I realized, in my daily ramblings though I do know one thing, and that is people. I’m not perfect but I forgot that was a pretty good skill to have. I’m a good listener when I can hear. (Heh, heh, I crack myself up.) I also am pondering the same life changes I was looking at a year ago. I think it’s time for me to shut up and do.

So, it’s an annoying autobiographical pause. I would like to thank Badger, SQ, Russ, Ivy and Ginger for listening and supporting me. This is a thank you to all of you.

And now that I’m done processing the unprocessable (I just made up a word. Yay Me!) go over to Sharon Cobb’s and wish her well. She’s having a rough time and everyone needs a kind word now and then.

Go on.