A List Of Ten

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.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #287

Yesterday, I rambled around aimlessly with the posse of Squirrel Queen, and later, with Badger Beth.

It was one of those days that didn’t make a lot of sense, there was beer and Biden Talk (in the same location. Note to self, asking a proprietor of a dive if you can “borrow” the television to watch Obama/Biden’s first press conference brings up some awkward conversations thus demanding that more beer must be consumed as we listen to old fogies drinking Natty Light talk about that we are in the apocalypse. Sigh.)

I thought Biden came out swinging and, as I have said before, some of Obama’s naysayers I deal with on an ongoing level, seemed somewhat pleased. We still have lots of time though before the big day in November.

We played darts (and I sucked) and ate at not one but two restaurants. The first one for lunch sucked so bad as our water had floaters in it and everything tasted like four-day old catfish. The shame of it all was that we did not order catfish. Nor did the waiter get us new waters. Nor did he receive a tip which is a shame because I’m an awesomely good tipper.

The second restaurant was a new Italian themed place that was actually quite tasty. I was surprised. Hoots Central has two Italian restaurants now. Imagine my surprise. We still have sushi rolls with bologna in them which saddens me to no end and also makes me queasy. What next? Squirrel Sushi. Blech.

Squirrel Queen was apparently looking for redemption and anger management classes after being very, very tired from her 2 billion hours of working overtime which happens about every five years so BB and I got her home. (I tease because of the love.)

As her tiredness overcame her, BB and I had a slumber party watching television, talking politics and thinking about what the future holds us.

Every once in a while, having a sleepover is fun no matter what your age is.

We all realized we were somewhat bored and were wondering if all roads lead to Hooterville and we decided that they, indeed, do not.

These are the days we appreciate and that are also quite telling.

Aimless, summer days aren’t too shabby.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #779

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.

The Ongoing Adventures of Typhoid Coma

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

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #489

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.

Our Greatness Is What We Fear The Most

As sometimes life gets in the way and I can wallow in self-pity as quick as anyone, I’ve been trying to find my footing. Homer has reminded me that I haven’t been very grounded lately. She’s kind when she says it and I appreciate that someone else has noticed. Someone cared enough to notice.

Sisters are fantastic.

I think it’s a startling revelation as I get older that things seem so complicated and then, in a moment, everything is as clear as looking to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea.

I’ve needed a change for years. Sometimes it is so overwhelming it strangles me and I have trouble finding my breath. And yet, the person who holds me back is sadly me.

And then I’m reminded.

When we create, we come alive; we’re making love to life. We use our unique talents, perception and skills and make the intangible tangible. Most of us generally know what we want in life. For every person, the answer to what brings us joy will be unique. For some it’s playing guitar or dancing. For others it’s writing, hiking, spending time with family, photography, or drawing.

So if we know what makes us feel alive, why do we resist it? Why do we avoid doing what we love to do?

Ivy posted this on Stumble Upon and I’ve read it twice.

The post from Pick The Brain discusses that many of us ignore and do not embrace our creative identity. Our fears of failure are more comfortable then accepting our imperfections.

The post ends with these lines.

The truth is, we’re often the most productive when what we’re doing has absolutely no purpose. We come alive when we’ve lost track of time, doing what we love.

Perhaps its not our weakness, but our greatness that we fear the most.

I’m going to have to think about this. And step out of the darkness into the light.

It’s time.

Annoying Autobiographical Pause #1,292

I took the weekend off from blogging to go find myself. Not really, but it sounded better than just saying I needed a couple of days off-line. These things occasionally happen.The highlights of my weekend would probably bore you to tears, but I will say that on Friday, I wasn’t feeling up to snuff as I’ve been fighting yet another bout with bronchitis and was eager to just sit in my recliner and stare purposelessly at the wall.

Then I got some distressing news and had to go into action mode.

I hate action mode. Seriously I do. I would be a terrible action hero as I’m more inclined to sit on the sidelines and do nothing.

Anyway, Squirrel Queen and I had some things we needed to do so we do whatever red-blooded American Citizen does when in flux. It’s not a life-threatening flux but more of a “OMG, WE HAVE DECISIONS TO MAKE” sort of thing. We went to her mom’s house out in the country.

It is very surreal out there. Very little traffic although we did see the farm, which is leased out, tilled and those small yucky flowers that make me sneeze were sent to plant heaven. It’s planting season in the countryside of Hoots and there is something ethereal and hardcore about it all.  This is how you eat, campers. Listening to farm talk always mesmerizes me as I had no idea about the ongoing mechanics and seven day a week work that has to be done.

We sat outside in the quiet, drank a few beers, laughed a lot and worked on what was needed to work on. Throughout the weekend, we watched Mabel run around on the farm and we just hung out. Her mother has dial-up but we avoided it a pretty much other than to show SQ’s mom pictures from Mabel’s presidential campaign which she thought was pretty funny. There was, alas, no new turkey dance.

On Sunday, we met Holly and her friend Erin, who after a bout with food poisoning some months back from eating some bad sushi, decided to brave it again with us. Badger, who has never had sushi, tried it and much to her surprise, sort of gnawed on a California roll from the Bento Boxes we ordered. I think it was life-altering for her as it should be.

Things that happened this weekend:

1. We saw a flock of buzzards eating the carcass of a deer on the side of the road. Badger called it “nature’s clean up crew” but it was disturbing nonetheless.

2. Big Brown is one hell of a race horse. We watched the race and were stunned how good Big Brown is.

3. There are professional beer drinkers in this world. I am not one of them.

4. My legs, or one of them at least, is terribly sunburned even after I put baby suntan lotion on them, which was a suggestion from my girl Batesville. The thing though is simply I think I missed this one spot and it hurt to move yesterday.

5. I saw what seemed like 900 turtles on the side of the road this weekend. Is this a sign of the apocalypse?

6. I also saw a coyote near town. Wonder what that’s all about? When you live out in the country, even if it’s just for two days you start saying “Gotta go to town.” I find that charming.

So, as I said, my weekend sabbatical from blogging was pretty groovy. I got to see the beloved Holly, who will be moving back to middle Tennessee next month. We determined I will most likely see her more in Nashville than I have with her in the ‘burg. She will be missed though as she is awesome.

T-Shirts And Anti-Frizz Shampoo

I realized today that I dress like a hobo.

I was wondering around this morning looking at my clothes and it hit me. I’m friggin’ Boxcar Willie.

Here’s the thing is small town America. I ain’t the skinniest girl in the room and I’m also not the biggest girl in the room. Nine times out of ten I have the smallest feet in the room as I have some tiny ass feet. I also have the most professionally bitten nails in the room. I’m a really good at it. And, yeah, it ain’t pretty but it’s me so hush. So where do I go get clothes? Wal-Mart?

Puh-leeze.

I’m just a short, curly headed woman-girl-old broad who has an interesting wardrobe of 712 T-shirts. And I’m also short. Which means that, well, I’m short.

So I had this big feminine moment this morning and I was feeling all saucy. I realized my Marie Laveau voodoo shirts that I got in New Orleans would just not do. And I didn’t want to put on the Crocs or the Chucks.

I had a moment of wanting to be, I don’t know, all girly and sexy.

It went over like a lead balloon filled with crack in someone’s colon.

I bought some anti-frizz shampoo. I guess that’s a start.