Looking for something to do? This tops my list for Activities: I Think Not----

Predators Of The Park-
SA (6/7) 10 am- Discussion on predators found in Lake James State Park, where they live, etc. Mounted predators will be on hand for viewing. Short hike in search of predators. Meet at the office. Free. Info: (828) 652-5047.

"Short hike in search of predators."

(hysterical laughter) Oh! The irony! A short hike, indeed!!!

My biggest pet peeve, ever: People treating me as if I am stupid.

Having said that, you will understand why I am so annoyed at the article in our paper today. A kid was arrested at Asheville Regional Airport on Sunday, for "possessing components of weapons of mass destruction". According to court papers, the boy had in his suitcase: "sulfer, nitrate, black powder, about 200 metal disks, instructions for making explosives, about 75 matchsticks, several batteries, plastic tubing, nails, needles, and razor blades." Now his attorney is saying, "None of the materials in question is contraband and the defendant violated no law by possessing any of those materials." And, "There is in fact no reason to believe that the (boy) is a danger to any property or any persons." The attorney is requesting the boy be released to the custody of his mother, and is angry at District Attorney Ron Moore for his decision to deny the boys release. Says attorney Steven Kropelnicki, "Ron Moore really ought to pick on someone his own size."

Does this strike anyone as asinine? The boy isn't a danger? Because of course, most people travel with 200 metal disks, needles, nails, and razor blades....and chemicals, and instructions on how to make bombs. When I go on vacation, I make sure to pack these items, who would be caught without them (pun intended)? Should I ever meet this attorney, I may feel a strong urge to smack him upside his stupid head. What an insulting asswipe, to think perhaps people would fall for his story. And God help us all, if people actually do.

Yah, poor kid has to hang out in juvey. I've been there, and it's not so tough. And also, if this kid is such an idiot to think traveling with said items is maybe ok, then his sociapathic self needs to stay behind bars, not at home. Apparently his mom isn't watching him close enough. Can I get an amen?

They caught Eric Rudolph, finally. Considering he was not too far from here, I am rather happy. The less maniacal people wandering around, the better.

Bumper sticker update: I am the Christian the devil and the liberal media warned you about.
Or as it sounded in my head as I read it: "Ah ahm tha Crischin tha devl an tha librull meedya wahrnyoo bout."

Thank God, at least I can laugh.

Well....that and I never have to experience puberty again. Lets thank God for that, too.

Hear yea, hear yea....let it be known throughout the land, that this day, the twenty eighth day of May, the two thousand third day of our Lord, shall forever be knowst to the people of this mighty land as The Day That Would Not Stop Sucking. This day sucketh mightily, and with great vengeance and fortitude, and let it be recorded into the annals of history that this day sucked, yea verily!

I work with plants. A few weeks ago, I was in an office building where one woman had an ivy on her desk that was covered in spider mites. The next week, it was worse. I was amazed it was even alive still. Sinse the owner of the plant wasn't there to ask, I asked her boss if it would be ok if I cleaned it off, sinse it's only other choice seemed to be death. The boss said most definitely and even helped clean it.

Ok- so this week the owner of the ivy was sitting at her desk. I come by to say Hi and check on her plant. I tell her it seems to be getting better, and was, I admit, expecting a nice polite "Gee thanks for getting all the disgusting bugs off my plant." But to my surprise she asked me (while scowling), "So why is it you can see these bugs and I can't?"

I just looked at, perplexed. I knew she was not actually looking for a real answer (Because you're clueless about spider mites? Blind as a bat? Don't notice your surroundings? Don't care?) but she was insinuating there weren't any bugs at all and I was just messing with her plant (Let's be clear about this: I have about 500 plants I take care of every week, her measly plant is of no concern to me, other than its imminent death at her hands and the possibility that it will then infect all of MY plants).
So I attempt to be nice and explain that spider mites are microscopic and I knew they were there because of the damage to the leaves (I didn't even get into the webbing which had by then COVERED her plant, and was OBVIOUS, because I was trying to be nice and not totally insult her).
She scowls at me and says, "You can leave the watering and care-taking of MY plants to ME from now on." And I said, "OK."
And what I really wanted to say was, "Ok, I'll just let it die! I don't know what the hell I was thinking, even TOUCHING your disgusting bug ridden plant. I certainly had nothing BETTER to do!!!" But I did not say these things. I walked away, and stewed about it all damn day.

Granted, I get annoyed when other people try to "help" my plants, unless they know what they're doing. Obviously this woman doubted my ability, and was pissed off I touched her plant. I really wanted to walk back there again and ask her, "Seriously, did you not SEE the webbing all over your plant? When you watered it, did you not get that crap stuck to your hand? Didn't you even begin to wonder what it was, and why your plant was very quickly dying? If you care so dam much about your plant, how can you be so totally oblivious to it?" I could see it from 8 feet away! I noticed it just walking by her cubicle! She sat right next to it! UGH.....
Anyway, I know I am angry not because she was upset, but because she doubted me. And she was a bitch about it, but that's beside the point. She thought I was just some pain in the ass who walked in and messed with her plant because I felt entitled to. And it is her (mistaken) opinion of me that I find upsetting. My integrity is important to me. Not that she has diminished it, just failed to recognize something I have worked hard at over the years. I don't always get it right. But I've come a long ways from the drug taking self centered kleptomaniac compulsive lying days of my youth.
And damn it, I did her a favor. I most certainly won't make that mistake again.

What interests me, in retrospect, is that I didn't want to go into her cubicle, and actually made her boss take the plant out so we could wash it. I didn't want to be responsible for pissing some lady off. And once again, instinct proved right. But I didn't listen.
I won't make that mistake again, either.

Thinking back to an earlier blog about people who are too easily insulted:
Today I was helping a friend of mine move and I saw she had a beautiful kimono. I asked her where she got it and she said, "San Fransico.....you know? That would probably fit you. I got it when I was really fat." And I laughed and said, "So you're trying to tell me I'm a lard ass, eh?" And she said, "No, no. You're just bigger than me. I mean I was really, really, really fat. My arms were huge! I'll have to find a picture of me so you can see how incredibly fat I was back then."
Now, anyone else may have found this offending, but I find it to be nothing more than an excellent example of how people can choose to be insulted. I know I'm not fat, so I don't care. And sinse I was helping her move out of her just-recently-became-an-ex boyfriend's house, I know she's distracted and emotional and would never mean to hurt my feelings.
But I know there are girls who would never talk to her again after a remark like that. Thankfully, I am not one of those girls.

My mom and Grandma are here. Sometimes seeing the similarities between generations is somehow life affirming and awesome. We ordered a pizza. We got a nice plain old mushroom pizza , you know, something to please everyone. My (82 year old) grandma goes with me to pick it up. On the way she says, "You know what, Jo? I had a pizza that was the best pizza I've ever had. And it sounds crazy, but it had pineapple on it! And ham!" And I laughed and said, "Grandma, that is my favorite pizza! Thats what I order every time I get one!!!" And we both laughed and got to the pizza place to pick it up and ordered a pineapple and ham pizza right then, just cause we both love it so much. And even though our mushroom pizza was already done we stood outside and looked at the clouds and waited for our beloved ham and pineapple. And it rained, but we didn't care. We got our pizza and went home and devoured it.
This would qualify as one of the great memories of my life, and I feel blessed to be able to recognize that in the moment.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~yay!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There's nothing like being in a hospital seeing your kid with a bunch of tubes coming out of him, hooked up to a bunch of machines. He came through fine. And I....have a profound sense of how delicate life is, and how tender.
Thanks, God for the other Mom in the waiting room. I think without her there I would have bawled the whole time, lost in a swirling abyss of my own fear. Secretly, I heard the angels tell me he would be fine, and not to worry...that he was my most precious gift and they would not take him away. But don't tell anyone I said that. Thats crazy talk, even if it is true.

"Think of what you could do, if time belonged to you... a heavy thought is......is that it does....." - Digable Planets

"I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that do not work." -Thomas Alva Edison

And once again I can't access mail on MSN.

MSN SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok scratch that. I thought I was doing just fine today until my guts started churning, acting like my lunch was gonna come out one way or another and then the migraine hit. Trying to breathe. Trying to not freak out entirely. Must internalize anxiety for sake of child. Must not eat for next 2 days for fear I'll projectile vomit. Must trust God.
As soon as I type that I hear my son gagging in the other room. How reassuring.

Seriously, it's no surprise I had an ulcer at 24. No surprise at all.

Feeling better today after attending pre-op with docs. Well, kinda. It's odd, you know that my son isn't scared at all. Probably because I haven't told him much, no need for him to get worked up, too.
But really, it's about all I can think of.

My son is due for surgery Thursday. And I wonder: why is it that I am filled with panic? I know everything will be ok. I know the docs know what they're doing. It's not so risky or anything. So why can't I breathe?

By the way, I would like to personally thank God for the hail storm. My truck got hail damage, and my most excellent insurance is paying for a bondo and paint job. I really wanted a new paint job, so this turn of events is just downright swell.

I've tried a few different internet services. My latest is MSN, sinse I got 6 months free with my new computer. And I must say, MSN blows. I had thought perhaps Billy Gates could have his name on a better product. There are regular problems accessing e-mail, or signing in, and the porn I get (even filtered) is unreal. I just opened "Young Chicks With Real Horse Penetrations" to see what the hell they could possibly say about that, and there's a two scene video clip of a naked chick giving a horse a blow job. So when I say MSN blows, I mean it really BLOWS.

Hail is a really freaky thing. One minute your sitting there enjoying a nice day, the next minute chunks of ice are hurtling down at you. Very bizarre.

I think it would safe to assume most people have a favorite song: that one song you hear and go, "Oh, yah! I LOVE this song!" And I wonder: owning the CD is never as exciting as hearing it on the radio, why? Why is the moment of hearing it "live" somehow more magical? Because it's fleeting; you can't press rewind? Because it's unexpected? Hmmm.

Early this morning I saw a bunny hopping alongside the road and then ~jump~ into the bushes and dissappeared. And something about his fluffy little bunny butt made me smile, and I couldn't wipe the dopey grin off my face. And I discovered something:Fluffy bunny butts make me happy. (I think that would qualify as a bona fide Warm Fuzzy.)

A while back I saw a car that had just been in an accident. And the bumper sticker said, "God Is My Co-Pilot". And I thought, Maybe you oughtta just move over and let Him drive...

People ask me how I quit smoking. I tell them cold turkey, they tell me, "Oh I could never do that!" And I think, Sure you could. Just don't stick a cigarrette in your mouth, light it, and inhale. Remember to make sure you are not doing that and you'll be fine. And when you really really really want one, smack yourself and tell yourself to quit being such a whiny little p#ssy. Then listen to your own good advice. Pretty simple.

It's a little thing called will power. Try it, you'll like it. You can even use it to solve other dilemmas, too. It's just downright nifty.

"Searching....to find the truth...to find the light inside of you...."- Queen Latifah

On a church sign: He who angers you, controls you.

Some people are too easily offended. After giving it careful consideration, I've decided the best plan of action is to AVOID THEM. Sinse I will never be able to say anything they can't somehow mutate into an insult, I may as well save my breath, and hope they grow some inner strength, instead of going all to pieces at every imagined slight. It makes me sad, though, to wonder what in the hell happened to them to make them so incredibly defensive.

Sometimes, the truth hurts. And likewise, that which isn't true is easily enough disregarded.

So my son wakes up yesterday and comes into the living room, where I am laying on the couch reading the paper. He snuggles up next to me and after a moment says, "Mommy? How does a person fit into a coffin?" And I wonder what he dreamed about and why he's bringing this up. I tell him that they just lay a person in there, someone else does because a person can't do it themselves sinse they're dead and all. He's quiet.....then: "Mommy? How do they lay their arms?" and I say they usually have them folded over, like Brents grandpa did at his funeral. Another long pause....then, "Mommy?" He asks...and I say, "Yes dear?" while pulling him closer as this seems to be a deep moment of ponderance for him. He asks, "Do you like ant eaters?" and I burst out laughing. I tell him yes.
Kids are so funny.

~~~~Happy Mothers Day~~~~~

I've had the most lovely day with friend of mine. She and her son came over, and our kids played while we girl-talked. About an hour before she left the conversations turned to psychic things, and I decided to try to explain to her one of the strangest psychic experiences I've had, that so far I've never found an explanation for. I've never told anyone about it because I doubted anyone would know what it meant. And as I started to describe it, she finished my sentence. She knew exactly what I was talking about, and told me she was told it was a some kind of Native American shamanic thing, something about the wind god. (Not being any part Native American, I find this odd.)
It's really an awesome to feeling to think you're alone in the world and then suddenly realize you are not.

I was driving down the highway yesterday and thinking about judgement, how other people judge me and how I judge them. And suddenly I see a box on the road and something all over the place. I veer off the exit ramp to avoid running it all over, and then I see what it was- a box of lightbulbs. And I think: what a weird little omen. Like- a box full of ideas (the little lightbulb ~ding!~) thats dropped unnoticed and causes chaos to everyone else that runs upon it. Or a lot of potential light gone to waste. Either way, something to ponder.

How I love these shows about makeovers. Ok, the extreme makeover show is a bit...extreme. But today theres a show about a well deserving mom gettting a makeover and she's all happy and filled with joy and I think, "See? You are beautiful!" And it's so cool to see people realize their own beauty. Even if it takes them some makeup or a haircut to figure it out. We all have warped ideas of how we look when we look in the mirror, and it's glorious to see someone look and themselves and go, "Yes! I like me!" Whatever it takes, you know?
There is nothing uglier than a sneer and nothing more beautiful than a smile.

Will the future Mrs Adrian Gonzales please stand up?

Bumper sticker update: Buckle your seatbelt. That will make it harder for the aliens to suck you out of your car.

The river is flooding. As I sat and stared at the overflowing banks, mesmorized by the swirling rushing water, I felt at peace, at home. Staring at the river I thought, "Thats exactly how I feel..." It is exactly how I feel.

There are few things I really understand. I don't really understand people, but I strive to. I think I'll never really understand anyone until I understand myself. But I endlessly surprise me, sometimes pleasantly sometimes not.
Sometimes my own actions come back to haunt me and I try to root them out, drag my own dark side into the light of day where I can stare at it revolted and fascinated both. (Hence the name Intro spectre, see?) I know I have a long way to go, and when I'm reminded of this it's suddenly very difficult to look forward at all. I wallow in my own shortcomings and emotionally beat the crap out of myself.
And today I ponder: Am I a bitch or not? Do I want to be? Some of the crap I've been through has made it a much needed skill, indispensible. But then innocent people are hurt in the process of lashing out, and that isn't right. Then I'm just a jaded bitch that other people must protect themselves from.
Back to that bumper sticker : Mean people are suffering. Yes, quite true. As much as I wish for a lovely ideal world where I can keep my gaurd down, I have never known that world. But an emotional gaurd works both ways, I am numbed from the pain being inflicted and I am numb to what pain I inflict. Where is that balance?
I remember a time before I was gaurded/jaded. Life was painful. I was suicidal. I would alternately reach out/lash out and became well known for my own neurotic behavior. I quit smoking pot, that helped. Recently I found out I have horrible allergic reactions to sugar, and have for years. Although I rarely admitted it, it would make me feel insanely angry, and I even blacked out on more than a few occasions. I was afraid of myself, of what I had become, why did I have lapses in memory, why did I suddenly have no idea where I was,why did I feel posessed sometimes? I guess I would have been burned at the stake years ago, but thankfully these aren't those days, and my allergy was discovered. And treated. Why aren't these things recognized by normal doctors? But I digress.
Today another of my actions came back to haunt me. And this one is rather confusing for me: I have hurt the feelings of someone I am not friends with. It would seem (in a Vulcan kind of way) illogical for me to be as upset as I am about it. But at one point we were freinds, and I suspect that is what bothers me the most. I am loyal to my friends.
But at one point, I felt I had to choose between her and a friend I had longer. That...has never settled well with me. And now I know I have hurt her and I am distraught. If I am truly a bitch, why would I care? ~sigh~ Because I am not. I am both releived and dissapointed at my own softness. If I am so soft, how can I make it in this world? Like the worms in the rain, I am soft and mushy and drowning in my own watery emotion. If I crawl to the surface I am exposed and edible to the carnivores. Softness is seen as weakness by so many....shall I be a brave courageous worm? Lets face it, that sounds ridiculous. Perhaps my euphemism is stupid, and I am tired.
But the answer I seek keeps coming back to me as this: I see her as a woman, a fellow being, a kindred spirit, even if that fellowship has long passed. I see her heart, her light and her love...and I can not harm her without feeling it myself. I am at odds. Hating her would have been easier, but I don't have it in me. Picking sides is no longer an option for me. It's too painful, and doesn't make sense. And I may lose the other friend in the process, but I wonder how much of a friend I had, to put me in the position to have to make that choice? The whole situation is weighted for me, and important. I have much to learn here, and an opportunity to do the right thing or the wrong thing. Have I made the right choice? Does it matter to either of them what I choose?
My actions matter, however small, and this is something I strive for every day: to Live Consiously. Perhaps distance is my only choice. Perhaps truth. I picked truth. I pray it was the right decision. I may never know.

Still it rains...and the worms are hating it and drowning by the bunch; and the birds are loving it and grow fatter day by day.

It's pouring rain. It has been and will be for days. My living room ceiling is leaking again, for the third time sinse we moved in, same spot as always. They keep "fixing" it. It keeps leaking. Right now it's 10:30 at night, and the window next to me is mostly reflecting the light from inside the house, but I can also just barely see the street light glistening off the wet pine tree outside, just the tips of the neeedles. So I look at the window and see myself and the glittering pinetree behind that image looks like a sky full of stars, sparkling just beyond my reflection. And I think, screw the roof, I LOVE RAIN.

I saw a most disturbing thing today. There we were in the pet store and in comes a family: mom, dad, and daughter. Both the mom and daughter had on short shorts, and they both were cutsie types; that is to say neither was terribly good looking, just bubbly and energetic. When the daughter walked out from behind the shelves she was standing next to my jaw dropped. She had on a pair of shorts that really shouldn't even qualify as shorts. These things were so short they looked more like the boy-cut swimwear. And that was not all, no, they were so ridiculously tight her ass and waist were both BULGING out of them. This girl was NOT fat. And maybe all of 12, if that. I really couldn't help but stare and tried to wipe the horrified look off my face before the parents saw me. At the same time, I hoped they did. I also wished I had the balls to go up and shake the mother and yell, "Are you TRYING to get her raped?!?! What the hell is wrong with you people?!?!?" I mean, the top of the shorts were likely riding the top of her ass crack, and the bottoms were showing much cheek. And her waist, which really wasn't her waist, just the top of her ass, so mashed inside these "shorts" it hung over the sides of them...I mean, how can you look at your daughter and go, "Ok! Let's go out in public now!" And the dad, even! If I walked downstairs in that outfit my dad would have given me a bug eyed look, calmly followed with, "There is no way in hell you are leaving this house dressed like that. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Change now and don't ever come down here dressed like that again."
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Thats what parents are supposed to do: protect you from things that are too big for you to understand.
These parents may as well have sent their preteen daughter out with a shirt on that says, "Screw me." There is no way this girl could possibly understand the lust she could inspire.
As someone who lost her own virginity at 13 by being raped, I am horrified.

I feel I am on the verge of an epiphany. Or perhps I am in the midst of one and don't realize it yet. Also possible. It may be the rumblings of my Saturn Return (astrological mumbo-jumbo). It could be anything really, but the sensation that the world is shape shifting in an almost
imperceptible way is undeniable for me. Something is happening, and it hurts a little and is very exciting at the same time. It's like, I'm being squeezed out of my comfort zone...and so its disquieting and thrilling, both. I wish I had the ability to take off on a nice soul searching mission, which requires no movement but silence. Yesterday I heard on the radio, "I've been through the desert on a horse with no name, it felt good to be out of the rain....in the desert you can remember your name, 'cause there ain't no one for ta' give ya no pain..." and I found myself envious. It's hard to find silence when you're a parent.
I've felt a very strong urge the last few months to get my house in order, to clean to purge to rid myself of all the baggage I carry around with me. I think it's an internal need also, uh emotionally I mean, although yes, I'm sure a nice colonic wouldn't hurt either. I desire to streamline my life, because I look back on the last 10 years and I have the distinct image of me running in circles smacking into piles of junk I've littered my own life with. I see massive amounts of my potential, my life energy being wasted on frivilous nothingness. It's like....I'm a maniacal gerbil running in a wheel, when I could just run outside to freedom at any time, the door is open if I would just look up long enough to see. And when I think of how much I could accomplish, I am amazed.
And also I wonder: is my b/f really stagnating? Am I? Am I projecting my own issues onto him? Or am I suddenly moving faster? Must I demand everyone come with me on my wild ride of enthusiasm?
After pondering this, I decide: YES.

Just got back from X2, the new X-Men movie. Man that was good! So full of juicy morsels.

You know, I've been so emotionally exhausted lately I can barely write. I sit down with an idea and seem capable of 4th grade writing skills at best.

Something has got to give.

Dealing with someone whose depressed is draining. I'm trying to be patient, but I really want to scream. I have plenty of experience dealing with myself when I'm depressed, but my b/f is cranky and irritaing and driving me insane, and I'm at a loss here. I think what I find so difficult is him taking it out on me, yet he seems to be totally unaware of what a pain he is. When I bring it up he's all, "What? No...." And I wonder: am I this big of a pain in the ass? Probably. I would like to think I am more aware of how my actions effect other people, but experience has shown me that isn't true.
I struggle to understand. And I will. Eventually.