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And That's the Way it Is
By yesterday, the elements were in full force! as they are everywhere--even in political campaigns and seasons.
First, let me say that for an experience akin to being threatened minute by minute with a shredder--I loved campaigning. I still love politics, and--for all its heartbreaks--the American political process as it is meant to be.
There are just no words, however, for the turn things can take. Those of you who are savvy about that process (and about how it can be abused) understand what has happened here. Those of you who may not be so politically active are in various stages of personal disappointment. Believe me, we ALL share that one.
A heartfelt thank you to each of the 90,000-plus people who honored me with your vote--and with it your confidence and your trust. For a couple of years now folks have said "Oh, I HOPE you get in." It is especially humbling when they are praying for it, for the nation and for you. It is gratifying when they say: "It's time for a change." And nothing short of thrilling to hear: "We NEED you in there!"
I wish there were some alternative way to repay the smaller but ever-growing circle of you who supported me in so many ways beyond that. If I said it to myself once, I said it a couple of hundred times: "I had better win this one, because I can't BELIEVE what this person is putting into this!"
On Election Night, I remarked that God has blessed me with getting to know and work daily with the men and women who have made up our campaign staff. A special singling out has to go to our regional coordinators and campaign volunteers. They carried the message and the fight far beyond what we could have done alone--all over this sprawling, gerrymandered 17th District.
One of the true rewards of this particular campaign was to make the friendship and see the commitment and work ethic of college Republicans--from Western Illinois University, from Knox College, from Blackhawk College, from Augustana College and from UI-Springfield. Do not fear for the future with the likes of young people like these!
Our future is determined by our past, and on this Veterans Day, I am proud to have had the privilege of shaking the hand of every veteran with whom I knowingly came in contact. You try it. Not once was I rebuffed: after all,have you ever rejected someone thanking you for putting your life on hold for them? For laying your life on the line? Let me tell you, if ALL of us did that, it wouldn't be too many handshakes for these men and women. It is because of them that we enjoy a free, fair election process. It is because of them that America goes on.
If I had one wish, it would be...... well, OK, if I had a SECOND wish, it would be that every American, every voter would somehow be involved with a campaign--running for office or helping someone else run. Each of us would quickly learn that you can't do it alone. And each of us would develop a deep appreciation for the many, many elected officials out there and what they go through just to SERVE, before ever stepping into the difficult job itself.
I don't know what's ahead--and that's a feeling and a state of being which I plain despise. Maybe, as I said tongue in cheek to a reporter, this was one very public way to put one's credentials and references out there in search of meaningful work. There's a lot of experience, know-how and energy here waiting to be used.
Whatever happens, I do know that I hope my life in some way continues to include politics. We have a unique, beautiful opportunity in these United States to determine our fate. God bless us every one--God bless the U.S.A.


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Gonzalez and Daughter Trucking
For light summer reading I recommend Gonzalez & Daughter Trucking Company (a novel) by Maria Amparo Escandon. This book is fun to read. The author knows how to maintain your interest. The narrator is home-schooled by her father, who is a trucker. I very much recommend it.

subset: commoncrawl


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Thursday, May 3, 2012
I can count on one hand the number of times that I have been away from B and the kids for longer than an overnight (and of those I can count only 2). I can't seem to get enough of them :) I'm headed out today with a great group of ladies for a long weekend hiking in Colorado. A first for me! Not the hiking of course, simply the girls weekend thing. Another first.... I'm traveling light. Yes, I'm leaving my trusty camera and the lenses at home! I figure, while trying new things... So this weekend I plan on making extensive use of my phone and Instagram. Let's just see how well I do! So in excitement, peppered with a little anxiety at leaving hearth and home, I wish you a happy weekend and I'm headed for the rocky mountain high!
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I have to say, July was probably the most difficult month for me.
In July I had to study for the Bac which I took as a "Premiere" (Junior)
This is a very important test for French teenagers across the country. This plays a crucial factor into whether or not they can move on to the next grade, graduate, or go to college.
But this is not the main reason why it was so difficult.
My host family moved to Gravelines, way up in the north of France near England. We moved a week before I had to leave France.
This is not quite the reason I had difficulty in July, although it is definitely part of it.
The main reason was because I had to say goodbye to my friends and (host) family. I had to say goodbye to France. I had to say goodbye to its food, it's culture, it's architecture, everything. And I did not know when I would be back. Maybe I won't be back for years, or maybe I'll be back in a few months. The uncertainty and the thought of saying goodbye was for me, one of the hardest things to experience during my study abroad.
I have to say that I will really miss France, and everyone I have met. I am so grateful that I was able to have such an incredible experience. I eagerly look forward to going back as soon as I possibly can.
And also, to end this blog, I have to say that words can not fully explain how much I appreciate everyone who helped me raise money for my study abroad, everyone who was so friendly to me while I was in France, and every single AFS volunteer who has helped make this possible, for not just me, but all AFSers.
Thank you all so much!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
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text: Arthur Fong, owner of China Chef and Sea Port restaurants, beloved husband of Joyce; loving father of Christina (Glenn Freeman) and Patricia; fond brother of Bob (Bea) and Barbara Quan; cherished Godfather of Peter Si and Julia Si. Visitation at Simkins Funeral Home, 6251 Dempster St., Morton Grove, Friday, 9 a.m. until time of service 12 noon. Interment Maryhill Cemetery. In lieu of flowers, donations to Orphans of the Storm, 2200 Riverwoods Rd., Riverwoods, IL 60015 or local food pantry appreciated. 847-965-2500 or www.legacy.com


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Creating and testing an app was never an easy job. It requires a lot of time and patience from the app tester to test the app for faults and errors. Editing huge source codes to rectify errors is another headache for testers, who often tend to forget and get confused between different variables.
But still, testing the app is important to ensure its quality and reliability. A lot of time, energy and money go into creating an app and it could all go to waste if the app is not tested properly for technical faults. No user likes to download an app which is full of technical glitches and bugs.
So here is your step by step guide to methods for testing an app for bugs and errors
Step 1: Make sure that the app is ready for testing
The app you are beginning to test should be complete and ready to test in every respect. While in the development stage, developers keep on making changes to an app, but what you require is a final and a stable version of the app for testing. For this a developer must first employ unit testing methods to the app. Many bugs can be taken care of during unit testing.
Testing should always begin at the source code level, during the App development process, as this reduces the bugs which you will encounter at the final test phase. There are many tools available for unit testing, so that should not be a problem. A developer must write down unit test cases.
Using Static Code Analyzers ensures that there are no basic programming issues in an app which have been left unaddressed. Build frequency should also be limited to enable testers to focus on testing.
Inter communication between a tester and a developer is equally important. A developer must inform the tester about any changes and updates he has made to the app before submitting it for tests. Developing and testing an app is all about good teamwork.
Before you proceed with complete tests you should run a sanity test on the app. This will speed up your testing and keep things simple. When your app passes the sanity test cases, you should proceed with further testing.
Related Post: Why you need to test your Mobile Application
Step 2: Automation
Automation of the testing process is a crucial for time saving. Automation also ensures that many general issues with the app are found and further communicated through emails. Automated tests are easy to run, so can be implemented by developers too before sending it to the Quality Assurance team. Emulators are a good option for automated testing, but real device options should also be considered.
Step 3: Emulator before device
A simulator or an emulator is a device or a platform which provides a suitable environment for testing the app instead of directly testing it on the device. Installing and re-installing the app on a real device is time consuming. Most bugs are easily caught with emulators.
Step 4: Device testing
Testing on a real device is the ultimate test for an app. Emulators can provide a similar environment, but are still not the real devices. Here are a few aspects of testing on real devices.
- Multi-device testing
Specific devices pose specific performance issues in apps. So it is always a smart idea to test the app across multiple device types. For instance there are many Android device manufacturers like Samsung, Sony and Motorola etc. You can never be sure if an app will work perfectly on all device types without proper testing.
- Devices with varied screen sizes
Apps have to perform well on all screen size devices, which includes smart phones and tablets as well. You can never know how the UI of the app will look on different screen size devices until you install and run the app on them.
- Devices with different operating systems
iOS app testers don't have to fret a lot due to this issue as Apple provides upgrades for older versions of its operating systems. But Android phones come in a large variety of operating systems. Before you can catch up with the latest Android OS, a new one is already available. Android Lollipop, KitKat and Ice Cream Sandwich are a few of them. An app needs to be compatible with all current OS to perform optimally; hence cross OS testing is required.
- Testing on Rooted devices
Many people use rooted device features on their phone. So an app should also be tested on a rooted device to see its behaviour.
Step 5: Network testing
This is an essential element of testing apps which work online and send/receive data.
- No Network testing
An app which works online with the help of a network should be tested on a device without network availability. An app in such a case should tell the user that the network is missing and he should connect to it to use the app.
- Wi-Fi network testing
If your application supports Wi-Fi then test it by switching the Wi-Fi signal off and see how the app behaves. Now switch on the Wi-Fi and try taking the device out of range. Test the app with a week Wi-Fi signal and lastly take the device out of range which performing a network associated task on the app.
- App should allow background network tasks
An app should allow a user to download files in the background while using the app. What's the point if a user has stop using the app to download his file. UX will go straight out of the window.
Step 6: Re-installation test
It is a common habit of users to download apps and then uninstall them, only to reinstall them later on. Make sure that your app installs properly each time after it is uninstalled from the device. This will ensure that your app users receive regular upgrades.
Step 7: Device functions inside and outside the app
All device functions like the back key should function in the same way, both within and outside the app. The app should not fiddle with the device behaviour and all normal device functions like incoming calls and SMS alerts should remain unaffected.
Step 8: App in motion test
Make sure that your app remains unaffected while the device is in motion. It is especially important for network based functions. Try the app while driving in a car by using its network features.
Step 9: UI Design test
The UI is the first impression that your app puts on users. If the UI is unattractive or looks different across different devices, then the users will lose interest in your app.
Step 10: Landscape and portrait mode testing
Most mobile devices have auto rotation feature, which means that when the user turn the device vertically or horizontally, the screen auto rotates and switches orientation from portrait to landscape and vice-versa. Make sure that the transition of app pages is smooth and flawless.
Step 11: Default keyboard behaviour
The app should not alter or affect the default keyboard behaviour. The buttons assigned for specific tasks should work properly. The keyboard should pop in and out as and when required.
Step 12: Field specific keyboard
Data in an app is entered in fields. Make sure that your app displays filed relevant keyboards to users. A field which requires a user to enter should his email display symbols like "@" to make it easy for the user to enter his email ID. This goes a long way in enhancing the user experience of the app.
Step 13: Crash testing
An app might encounter exceptional situations and close abruptly due to hardware or software related issues. Here's how to test the app in various such conditions.
- Test the app in low battery mode. When the battery goes dead and the phone switches off automatically, the app and its data should not get corrupted. The network should be kept switched on in such a scenario to check the app behaviour.
- Remove the phone battery while the app is running. Replace the battery and switch on the phone to make sure that the app data has not got corrupted.
- Try sending and receiving large amounts of data through the app. Sometimes users enter large amounts of data in the fields, making the app crash. Your app should be able to handle large data flawlessly.
- Each app has its file upload and download limit. These files could be either images or videos or text. Make sure that you communicate the app's upload/download limit to users for preventing it to crash.
Step 14: When to stop testing?
App testing can be draining on the mind and body of an app tester. So he/she should well know when to stop. It is best to ignore minor issues while releasing the first version of the app. Subsequent App updates will take care of them later on. It is more important to focus on major issues and releasing the app on time.
To wrap it up
I hope that I have been able to cover every minor aspect of app testing elaborately, but it is still possible that I might have left something out. So I request readers to review this article and enlighten me with their valuable suggestions and comments.


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Democracy is for losers
by Michael
After 90 minutes, it is still 0-0 between France and Portugal and one thing is becoming very clear – England are almost certainly not going to win. Of course, England left the Euros a couple of weeks ago, just days after the UK voted to leave the EU. But England football fans believe they can win every tournament, and must have been hoping for some technicality or rule that meant they did not have to leave after all.
It's especially odd, though, given that expectations were so low for the national team this time round. For once, nobody really expected England to win. It seemed they were being given room to develop, to build a team perhaps with the 2018 World Cup in mind instead. But then some idiot at the FA came out and said only the semi-finals would be a good result for them. Maybe he was trying to motivate the manager and his team by saying that halfway through a competition that they'd come in to with such low expectations, but we all saw the impact that attitude had – the team froze (against Iceland, fittingly), the manager resigned and the FA was left scrabbling around for someone who could parachute into the set-up and deliver a tournament win in 2018 instead. For a country that has only won one cup in so many decades of trying, it seems bizarre that – for all the protestations of low expectations this year – we do so expect to win every single time.
In British politics, the cycle is five years rather than two, but the expectations seem to be the same for our two main parties. Both believe they could – should – win every election, even when expectations are low. This seems clearest with the Labour party at the moment. Having lost in 2010 and seen five years of an austere coalition government, they seemed to believe they had a right to win in 2015. Having lost again, they fully expect to win in 2020 – except for one factor bringing their expectations down closer to those of England winning the Euros tonight, which is their leader, Jeremy Corbyn.
The accepted strategy for winning an election in Britain these days appears to be just to avoid losing. Nobody likes politicians, so anything negative will be seized on and used by your opponents to discredit you. With Labour, it's the economy – they really couldn't do worse than the Conservatives, and yet voters are so easily convinced that Labour would fritter away all the nation's cash. With the Tories, well their weak point is the way they blame the poor and disadvantaged for all of society's ills, but Labour hasn't managed to exploit that weakness recently, perhaps because it makes them sound as though they would fritter away all the nation's cash on those people (always 'other' people, because voters don't tend to think of themselves as poor or disadvantaged) instead.
I believed Corbyn when he was elected leader of the Labour party on a platform of basically wanting to change the nature of politics in Britain. I think he would still like to do that but I fear it is beyond his capabilities, faced as he is in the middle of a battle between competing claims of democracy within his party. On the one hand, he was elected democratically by the members of the Labour party; on the other, most of Labour's MPs having decided early on that Corbyn was essentially unelectable (I think because his style and politics are seen as so attackable that the Tories would walk all over him), they have now given up any pretence of supporting him. And a party leader whose MPs do not support him is like any other leader without followers – just a lonely politician walking into the sunset by himself.
As a result, the prediction of so many Labour MPs that Corbyn would be unelectable has been made to come true. And the saddest thing is that they have been so quick to abandon any desire to change politics. If any party is to reform politics, surely it is the progressive elements of the left rather than the conservative bulk of the right (it's in their name, for goodness sake). But no. Most of Labour's MPs also want the game to stay the same – they feel they know how to play it and how to win, if they only had a leader who could effectively exploit the Tories' weaknesses and give the electorate a viable way to make the Tories lose; to be slightly less bad than the Conservative party, just less bad enough to attract enough votes. And if that means making promises to avoid scaring the horses and living up to those promises once in power, then that's the price they – and we – will pay. Because that's how the system works and if you want to win, that's how you have to play the game. And if it doesn't work, sack your leader and scrabble around for someone else.
With Corbyn unable to take his MPs with him on a different course – one of building slowly and reforming the structure of politics in this country – they will depose him and choose someone else. But it's hard to see how a different leader would achieve a different result for Labour. It's like choosing a new England manager to take the same players to the next tournament and expecting a win to miraculously follow.
In the footballing analogy, the Brexit referendum was a penalty shootout. Nobody ever wins a penalty shootout – it is a process that requires someone to miss, someone to lose. The winner wins by default.
I was surprised at how quickly the referendum became a political campaign like an election. It was all personalities and parties and campaign slogans and branded buses. But on a single issue, every voter can make up their own mind – it's not the same degree of compromise that's involved in choosing a candidate or a party to vote for in an election (so I don't see how people can really believe that Corbyn coming out more strongly in favour of Remain would have affected the result). It was not about persuading people or changing their minds; it was more about getting the voters out. And they came out. And they voted out. And now we're all losers.
But here again there are competing claims of democracy. At one level, what is more democratic than the country voting on a simple choice between two courses of action? The majority wins, of course, every time.
There is another manifestation of democracy, however, which is not about winning majorities, but acknowledging, supporting, even protecting, minorities. Human rights, freedom of movement, tolerance and compassion – simple, decent humanity.
It was 2005 when I realised this other idea of democracy existed – I was studying for a Masters degree, and a far-right demagogue was doing well in Austrian politics. One of my professors started a discussion with us about what should happen if they won power in Austria. My opinion was that if you believe in democracy, you have to accept the will of the people, even if you hate what they've voted for, even if they've voted away their democratic rights. The liberal academic's view was that democracy exists not so much in votes but in the much broader set of rights given to people to live their lives the way they want to, and that a far-right government would undermine that and undermine democracy, so something radical had to be done to prevent this outcome, even if it was the popular choice.
So while going against the popular vote from the referendum would be, by definition, undemocratic, I think it might also be the most democratic thing we could do. Because democracy is for the losers as much as – if not more than – the winners.
(Congratulations to Portugal, by the way, who won the Euros after extra time, but also to France, who lost.)


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Just saw this on youtube. I had to share it!
Tiny, Pudge and void vs kunkka
I srsly loled hard
Dota Strategy
Sunday, 19 September 2010
Dota Riddle 2
The correct answer of the first riddle was...
Claire J. was the first one to guess the correct answer, congrats!
New Riddle:
When we are together we become one, we make your feet faster and the enemy's feet slower
Who are we?
First one to guess it right wins
Claire J. was the first one to guess the correct answer, congrats!
New Riddle:
When we are together we become one, we make your feet faster and the enemy's feet slower
Who are we?
First one to guess it right wins
Saturday, 18 September 2010
Dota Riddle 1
Post your answers in the comments , first one to guess the right answer wins
I study science but I something screw up. I'm thinking of switching to economics because i'm pretty good at that.
Who am I?
I study science but I something screw up. I'm thinking of switching to economics because i'm pretty good at that.
Who am I?
Friday, 17 September 2010
Earthshaker video
He plays a great ES, check out his ultis and the placement
Earthshaker Guide
1. Overview
Cairne Bloodhoof
Earthshaker is a strength hero, although he should be played like an int hero. He has 3 active skills and 1 passive, with his skills he can deal an immense amount of damage (I mean like a buttfucking load of damage). His role in the game is to initiate. He is the first one to attack the enemy and tries to do as much damage as possible to enemy team and try to soak up as much damage as he can. (this means you will die alot but if you play him right you will almost win everygame).
Now lets look at some stats
- Strength 22 + 2.5 (Main attribute)
- Agility 12 + 1.4
- Intelligence 16 + 1.8
He has a mediocre strength and strength gain making him a semi-tank lategame.
As you can see he has low agility and a very low agility gain, this is why he can't be played as a DPS hero. I see alot of people going Battlefury on him because they think the extra AOE is good combined with his skills. This isn't true, his attackspeed is too low for him to effectively use a Battlefury.
His int and int gain is very low compared to the manacost of his skills. Thats why he needs items that increase his manapool. This will be discussed in the Itembuild section
Slams the ground with the Raigor's mighty totem, causing the ground to crack open front of him, damaging opponents and leaving an impassable crevasse for a period of time.
Raigor's signature skill is ofcourse fissure. The possibilities with this skill are endless. You can trap an enemy at almost any location, you can prevent an enemy from gettin the rune, you can save an ally by blocking him off from the enemy (just make sure the enemy is melee ;) ). Max this skill ASAP.
Enchant Totem
Empowers the totem resting on Raigor's back, causing it to deal extra damage on the next attack.
This skill is great in combination with Aftershock. Use this skill after you used fissure to finish off the enemy or deal some extra damage so your ally can kill him
The power of Raigor casting a spell causes the earth to shake below him, dealing additional damage and stunning.
This skill is why Raigor is called The Earthshaker. It deals damage and stuns the enemy with EVERY skill you cast, this does not include items. This skill should be maxed after fissure.
Echo Slam
Raigor sends shockwaves shooting through the ground, dealing damage and ricocheting to nearby targets for additional damage.
Personally I think this is one of the best ulti is dota, this skill alone can kill an entire enemy team with good timing and some luck. Just remember the more target that are near you the more damage you do. The damage increases exponentially. Don't be afraid to use your ulti to finish of an enemy when your alone against him. With aftershock it can deal alot of damage
Your skillbuild should look like this
- Fissure
- Aftershock
- Fissure
- Aftershock
- Fissure
- Echo Slam
- Fissure
- Aftershock
- Aftershock
- Enchant Totem
- Echo Slam
- Enchant Totem
- Enchant Totem
- Enchant Totem
- Stats
- Echo Slam
- - 25. Stats
3. Build (coming soon)
As I said before you should max out fissure and aftershock for a maximum of damage. When you fissure try to get close to the enemy so you hit with aftershock aswell. Don't bother getting enchant totem early game because if aftershock isn't maxed it won't do much damage and the stun will like more like a ministun. You can get a level in enchant totem if your facing a channeling enemy (like rastha or doctor) to save your ally.
4. Strategy(coming soon)
4.1 Early game
4.2 Mid game
4.3 Late game
5. Conclusion(coming soon)
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Hello and welcome to my blog,
On the blog you will be finding dota replays and dota strategies
If you like what you just follow me because I will be updating regularely
Also check out the poll:)
On the blog you will be finding dota replays and dota strategies
If you like what you just follow me because I will be updating regularely
Also check out the poll:)
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)


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Monday, February 29, 2016
Turns out I haven't seen Fuller House yet, I just assume it is remarkable. Remarkable and, yes, probably a dream. What if Fuller House is just a dream that we are all dreaming at the same time? I made a very, very similar joke about this over on Twitter, but why not use it here? If it's good, it's good. And I'm the only one who gets to decide whether or not my jokes are good. I'm also the only one who gets to decide whether or not I become my own mayor.
When I sit down to write, maybe I should have something to say. No, that's not true. In fact, I think I should approach writing in a completely blank state with a blank slate. If I have an agenda, I remain closed off. On the other hand, having a goal such as, "I want to write something to break and mend hearts" seems nice. I think that's okay. It's broad enough so that multiple paths stay open. Walk down some of those paths and be okay with any dead ends. Dead ends aren't always bad. Dead ends narrow your focus, allowing you to strip down to the essential.
Strip down! That's what I need to do right now. I sweat far more than I should at the machine prison/gym and now my sweat is turning me into a cold prisoner. What is this prison theme I have going on? Must be all of the Dateline episodes I watch. I. Watch. So. Many. Anyway, strip down and take a shower already, Meg. And while you're at it, make a promise to yourself that you won't write online anymore about how you need to strip down and take a shower. People don't need to know everything.
Will write later. Must go outside. Must conquer the world because I suddenly feel invincible due to rest and iron supplements and Powerade. And Alexie's short stories. And rain clouds and one hundred Selfies and the Four Noble Truths and the possibility of Bulgaria and the long lasting relationship of Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky. Ciao.
Sunday, February 28, 2016
What's not easy: Everything lately, especially running. Bummer bummer bummer. I always prided myself on being a fuggin' fantastic runner. Endurance! Speed! Got both of 'em! But not anymore. At least not right now. Don't get your hopes up -- I don't have a pulled groin muscle again. Knock on wood. I do, however, have hardly any red blood cells and they are surprisingly pretty vital. I tend to ignore my anemia, just like I ignore most uncomfortable realities, but it's apparent I can no longer brush it aside. I have begun taking two iron supplements a day AND I just purchased roast beef at the store. Hey, it's a start. I would be 1,000% happy with receiving iron infusions again, but I am not 1,000% happy about having to pay thousands of dollars. Or hundreds. Or whatever it cost last year. Can't remember. Can't remember a lot. Red blood cells contain my memory.
I do remember how important Buddhism is to me. I have been remembering it a lot lately. I think it's because I have been exceptionally anxious and out of sorts and perplexed about my future. These emotions rise and rise and rise until they boil over and I have what one may call a meltdown. But when you reach that low point, you can't help but see more clearly what is important to you and your well-being. And that, for me, is spirituality, specifically Buddhism. Nature and the preservation of the environment is also way way way up there on the list of important things. And relationships. Having and maintaining healthy, loving relationships. Interestingly enough writing isn't super high on the list. Then again, writing and I have a hot/cold relationship, to put it mildly. Hot. Cold. Mild. Which do you prefer? I prefer the mild because Buddhism has showing me that the middle path is tried and true and rad as shit.
What else is rad as shit: This weather. That celestial orb. The fact that I still have time to enjoy it if I leave this desk RIGHT NOW and make love to the hammock. If you need me, I'll be blissed out under the sun while simultaneously battling inner demons. Not sure how one can be blissful in such a state, but, well, life is full of contradictions, man.
Friday, February 26, 2016
Get my goat. Man. What a phrase. Goats, by the way, are sure to be a part of my future; or rather, my ideal future. Yes, I'm that obnoxious white chick who wants chicks (chickens!) and goats and yoga poses on arches. Yes, I want the farmers' markets and Patagonia jackets and rescued Golden Retrievers. Yes, I want overalls. Yes, I want a kale smoothie in the morning. Yes, I want to go glamping (but only once to see how it is -- otherwise, give me a tarp and the stars).
I need to begin nurturing that obnoxious hippie side of me again. I would rather be an obnoxious flower child than a irritated monster on a conveyor belt. How exactly do I nurture that side of me? I see the end picture, but I don't take the steps to get there. Head in the clouds? You bet. But it's time to get to work. I guess it starts with getting more sleep and leading a healthier lifestyle. No more seeing how long I can go without food. No more seeing how long I can run on that blasted conveyor belt. No more pushing myself in destructive ways. More patience. More sitting down and doing nothing. More acceptance. More overalls.
I hope this determination lasts. I hope I give myself a chance.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
What if I become a firefighter? Only because I like the sensation of sliding down poles. Kidding, kidding. Although I might? It's been probably forever since I've had a good pole slide. Anyway, I saw on the news last night that the U.S. Forest Service is looking to recruit women to wildland fire crews. I think it's because we look hot holding a massive hose? I don't know, but whatever it is maybe I'll do it. My mother is terrified right now! And you are all laughing at me! But what if it actually happens? Hell, I'm almost ready to go through police training in order to become a park ranger. And years ago I thought, for about 45 seconds, that the army might be a good way for me to attain a college education. And and and I sometimes fantasize about becoming the mayor of a very, very rural town. Like, a town so rural that I am the only resident. I am my own mayor. Order in the court (I also want to be a judge).
Let's see what else is new with me... I am determined to finish all of the many, many, way too many books I have started and failed to finish. Unless it was a terrible horrible no good very bad book, I gotta finish it. There's no real reason why I stopped reading them aside from ADHD stuff. You know, distracted! Distracted all the time! By everything and everyone and every forest fire that blazes my way. "Blazes my way." Good writing right there.
Turns out I am quite distracted and cannot continue to write at the present moment. I am also so extremely sweaty from running and the sweat is making me cold, smelly, and sticky. I suppose I'll have to get used to sweat if/when I am to become a wildland firefighter. But for now I am just a simple, future mayor and part-time judge who wants to take a simple, immediate, full-time shower. Catch ya later, hosers.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
I think I think too much about words. I know I think too much about words. I am bored with talking about how I think I think too much. Instead, I think I will talk about the minute, boring parts of my day. Not today specifically, but all days. All days blend into one long ass day when you are unemployed. Imagine having a long ass. There are people out there who, I'm sure, have what can only be described as a long ass. Long may they live.
I wake up at 8:30 in the morning at the latest. Even if I go to bed late, I make myself wake up at 8:30. I do the usual -- pee, put on clothes (THIS girl sleeps naked!!!), groan because I am still so so so tired. I then walk for about an hour (okay, one hour and one minute -- I time myself) while reading. I usually have ear plugs in. I chew on ice cubes. The one hour and one minute are up! Now I put in my eyeballs/contacts, put on red lipstick even though no one will see me except for my mother, maybe make tea, maybe try to write, definitely mumble and grumble because I am still so so so tired. Lately I have been going on a run in the morning, which makes zero sense because of how exhausted I am. Then again, running helps to wake me up, both physically and mentally. I come home, shower, braid my hair, sit outside in the sun, go on a walk, read, read, read, maybe work up the courage to go to the grocery store (but only if I am extremely desperate), read, write in my journal outside, go on a walk, go to the library if I feel like I can put up with a bunch of idiots (I'm so sweet), walk, talk to my dad on the phone, read, set the timer for some very important television programs (always Dateline or 20/20 or 48 Hours and then my Rachel Maddow mwah mwah), sit on my window seat, drink tea, chew on ice cubes, visit with my mom while I restlessly cut up vegetables and/or make Jello and/or boil eggs and/or make pumpkin bread. Get on Tumblr. Read. Walk. Get on Tumblr again. And finally -- FINALLY -- eat dinner. And watch my very important television programs. And then eventually, somewhere down the road, get into bed and watch ONE episode of some random anime series. Sometimes. Other times I just browse the Internet for stuffed animals and abandoned places. Then I fall into an interrupted sleep and do it all over again in 6 hours.
OMG, why'd I write all of that? I like using "OMG" sometimes. I have never used LOL seriously. I don't know why not. I think it's kind of stupid, that's why. I cannot answer why I am okay with OMG, though. There are no answers to some of life's most troubling questions. Life apostrophe s? Yes? Answer!
So tired. OMG. OMG, so tired. Will try getting at least 6 hours and 1 minute of sleep tonight. Minute by minute I'll become the world's best sleeper. Mark my words, but don't hold me to them. You get what I mean. <3
Sunday, February 21, 2016
The children's mama asked me if I have found a job yet. You know, small talk stuff. I gave the classic, vague answer of "I'm just figuring out my next step... Maybe I'll do some copy writing or maybe I'll get a seasonal job with the National Park Service or maybe I'll go back to school or maybe..." I didn't say all of those maybes, but I sure didn't give a clear answer -- mostly because I don't know the answer. Well, I know the answer to "have you found a job yet?" But lord help me if anyone wants me to give an answer to why I haven't found a job yet. I think I have been letting a job define me -- like, if I am unemployed, do I even exist? And I have to find the perfect job which will give me not only a paycheck, but a purpose, an identity. It doesn't have to be that way, though. And it shouldn't.
I need this break from the game of adulthood to sort out my thoughts, to get my head in the right place, to regain my health (both emotionally and physically), to stand strong in who I am regardless of anybody else or any title. It is an incredible luxury that I am even able to take some time off. So many people, often in much more dire circumstances, cannot afford to do this. I can't waste this time. I also can't let it overwhelm me. I can make progress if I take everything moment-by-moment. I tend to look at the big picture, the "end goal," but I fail to plan out the steps to get to where I want to go. So my goal right now is to take steps, even if I have the urge to leap right to the finish line. I have to be the tortoise in this race. Slow, perhaps, but at least I'm moving.
Suuuuch a serious post. Should be put into a private diary. Or published for the entire world to read. Whatever. What's done is done. But what hasn't been done yet is googling photos of tortoises. I'll be right back. Okay, here we go. Enjoy.
Friday, February 19, 2016
One day closer to babysitting. I want it to come and go so I can be done with it and $60 richer. (I love the kids, by the way. They are maybe the cutest children I have ever seen? Like, they belong in movies and/or Gap ads.) I also want to not be babysitting at almost-32-years-old. I feel like a teenager in most areas of my life. I don't have to go over the long list of why I feel this way, I just do. Kinda bums me out. No, it actually really bums me out. I feel like my life hasn't started yet, but here I am at "early middle age."
Well, it doesn't have to be this way. I have waited for too long to have someone tell me the how what why when where and who. I have waited for someone to give me directions on how to live a life. It's crucial for me to not wait any longer. It's important for me to realize that the only person who has the power to give me directions is myself. And it's not "a life," but rather my life.
At the risk of sounding cliche, I will say that taking responsibility for one's life requires courage. And a lot of it. It requires a handful of leap-before-you-look moments, somewhat calculated risks, dumb mistakes, quiet successes. It isn't easy, but it shouldn't be. It is, above all, empowering. And there are great views as well.
I have a lot of thinking to do. Obviously. But the kind of directed, purposeful thinking -- no more of these unnecessary worries that take up every square inch of my brain. Those trivial matters only distract me and zap up energy. I gotta change my perspective on many things. Geeeez -- looks like somebody (ME) needs to go to Peru and drink some ayahuasca tea. Heaven help me if I spill that tea all over my desk while typing.
I'm going outside. I'm going outside to drink my non-ayahuasca tea and read my book. For a few minutes. And then I will run and think and try to put the pieces of my life together. And even if I don't get a full picture, not today or tomorrow, I will still be examining the pieces instead of sweeping them under the rug.
Cliches abound in this post. I hope you've enjoyed them.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
But enough about that. Babysitting is two days away and yet I have been fretting about it for the past hour or so. Meghan! Enjoy your morning! And your day! And remind yourself that you don't really have anything to worry about. I have this wonderful habit of finding something -- anything -- to worry about. I wonder if it's simply a way to keep me occupied, to keep me awake without the assistance of caffeine? Did it bother you that I ended a couple of sentences with "about"? Brush off the worries, brush my teeth, start the day, it'll be okay. Hey. That's not a bad mantra. It's not a great mantra, but it's not awful.
Two paragraphs dedicated to anxiety and babysitting. Seems about right. What else do I have to talk about? There I go again! About! About! About! I could talk about the weather (no), the book I'm reading (no one cares), babysitting (no one cares, yet you still discussed it), my ex (kidding! kidding!), nature (we know we know, you dig nature), or politics (oh yes PLEASE). I think I'll just refill the ice cube tray and call it a day.
Oh wait, it's only 10:09 in the morning. Too soon to call it a day. I think the downside to having a lot of free time is showing. I have too much time to think -- and to think that I am not thinking enough and to wonder why I'm not thinking enough and to worry about this and to worry about that and to think that I am stuck and to think of a way to get unstuck without actually attempting to get unstuck. And then I think, "Gee, I should use this ample amount of time to do something productive." And then I think, "Did I use the word 'ample' correctly? And how exactly do I define 'productive'?" You see the problem? If you see the problem, let me know. I can't tell if time is the problem or thought is the problem or thinking that there is a problem is a problem. What I would really benefit from is a nice meal and probably a part-time job. So. There you go.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
I know you don't care, but did you know that I don't really love bananas as much as you might think that I do? Not to assume that you think about my fondness for bananas that often. It's not my favorite fruit, not by a long shot. I am still slightly undecided about which fruit is my favorite, but I can tell you it ain't the banana. I do like, however, the convenience of bananas. And they are consistently low in cost! My my. Oh, and if you spread sunbutter on a rice cake, top it with bananas, and then dip it in milk -- IT'S VERY DELICIOUS. So yeah, bananas are acceptable. Just don't think of me as Miss Chiquita. (Miss Chiquita's real name is Carmen Miranda. She was once invited to sing and dance for Franklin Roosevelt. She was the original Brazilian Bombshell!!! She sounds a lot like me.)
Do any of you struggle with thinking in the morning? I don't even mean thinking clearly, I just mean thinking period. My head is fuzzier than a kiwi before noon. A kiwi! Not my favorite fruit, by the way, but still tasty. I guess it's because my brain is still waking up? It must desperately want to remain asleep, wrapped up in dreams of me attending beauty school. <--- That was my dream last night! And it was depressing. Not because I was in beauty school (well, kind of), but because my classmates were all of the cheerleaders from my high school and because I got in trouble from the teachers for my tweets. Anyway, tired brain. Tired brain just wants sunshine, bananas, and uninterrupted hours of an altered consciousness. I never quite know how to end posts. I don't think it matters too much. I think I'll just abruptly end them from now on and include some somewhat amusing photos. (Let it be known that I just spilled my tea all over the table and began crying! Happy Wednesday!)
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Why am I writing these untrue words when I could be outside? Why am I writing about how I could be outside instead of being outside? Why isn't the outside inside of me at all times? Oh, but it is. At the same time, writing in the morning helps to center me. A little. Sometimes it completely sets me off balance, but such is the nature of writing. I could always take a notebook and pen outside (which I do), but my fingers want the click click click of the keyboard first thing in the day when the caffeine is hitting its peak. Can't help it. I've said "nature" and "peak" in the past few sentences and it is only a reminder of where I should be.
There are a lot of shoulds in my life; or rather, I give myself a lot of shoulds. I should not give myself so many shoulds, it's overwhelming. I should go to the gym, I should wear myself out at the gym, I should drink less caffeine, I should be more social, I should figure out what the hell I want to do with my life, I should not be so concerned with what I want to do with my life and instead just start living it, I should pay my bills (uh, I really should), I should get more sleep, I should take up yoga/rock climbing/knitting/miming, I should be productive, I should relax, I should meditate, I should apologize, I should ignore, I should confront, I should write a novel no a poem no a screenplay no a memoir no a letter to myself asking myself to drop the shoulds and pick up the pen. I should get a cat.
Not all shoulds are bad. Of course not. They can be great reminders, gentle nudgings. But when they become sticks with which to beat ourselves, they serve no purpose. ("with which to beat ourselves"? was that correct grammar? shut up, i don't care. rebel against the establishment! sorry for saying "shut up.") Today I am going to drop the shoulds like I should... And just see what happens. Meg, the experimenter and the newest Supreme Court Justice. I really should get a robe and gavel. Remind me.
Monday, February 15, 2016
I am currently reading a book that uses "by jove!" and that describes characters as "sentimental asses" and "poor wretches." It's fantastic. In my 20s I was all about those Beats and books from the 1960s that made you feel existential and validated in your sorrow. Now, well into my 30s (I'm 31), I am finding myself drawn to long, sweeping British novels/sleeping pills. And to think I avoided British literature classes in college at all costs and took way too many Bob Dylan classes (I took one, which was enough). I am about to type something very, very profound: Things and people change. Gasp.
But you know what doesn't change? The fact that William Henry Harrison died on his 32nd day in office. That sucks big time for Bill! Wonder if he went by Will, Bill, Willy, Billy, William, or will.i.am. I would go by Henry. Maybe I can still go by Henry. I do love Henry James... And, here's a weird connection, Henry's brother was William James and William James has the same name as our ninth President and 9 is a 6 upside down and if you divide 6 by 2 you get 3 and if you put 3 threes together you get the number 333 which is the year Emperor Constantine the Great pulls Roman troops out of Britain and abandons work on Hadrian's Wall. OMG!!!
Well, I'll leave you with that. Think about it. Think very hard about it and then continue to make these completely coherent connections to everything else you encounter in life. Hey, it's worked for me! I'm here, unemployed, very single, chewing on ice, watching anime at one in the morning. See? Who wouldn't want to be in my position?
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Now onto something completely different. No transition. I could transition by saying, "Now that you know my ideal Sunday, here is a look into my ideal job." Okay, let's go with that transition. What-ever! So my ideal job: One where I am outside and alone for most of the time. You already knew that. I reflect on the times when I've worked with people, be they the paying public or the preschool demons (joke! they were lovely! most of the time! sometimes! depends on the kid!), and the times I liked the best was when I was off alone doing some task, whether that was stocking shelves or stapling papers. I don't want to become a slave to mindless tasks, but I do enjoy having something to accomplish and having the alone time to accomplish it. This is so boring. What I'm trying to get at is that maybe I'll become a mail carrier??? Yes, an interpretive park ranger would be rad as shit, but... But nothing, I guess. I guess I can look into both professions! Okay, so park rangers definitely interact with people. I should keep that in mind. And I will. I will keep a lot of things in this mind of mine, yet let very little of it out. Yes, these constant ramblings of mine are merely 2% of what's going on inside. And I'm probably overestimating here.
I hit a wall. The swig of caffeine has disappeared. I have nothing left to offer you right now! Except for pictures. I can always offer you pictures and a quote by Cliff Clavin, everybody's favorite mail carrier. "They did a study between postal workers and chimpanzees. They proved that chimps were 32% slower. Of course, they were better with public relations." Ba dum chh.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Hello! Happy Saturday! It is 10:01, which is only 9 minutes away from Fake Time. Fake Time = 10:10. If you've ever bought a damn digital clock in your damn life, you'll know what I mean by Fake Time. But isn't all time fake? Now don't you fret -- I shall not go into a lengthy musing on how time is a social construct and blah blah blah. I don't even know if time is a social construct because I'm not entirely sure what "social construct" means. Okay, I know what it means. I'm a genius. And an idiot. Idiots can be geniuses and vice versa. We live in a contradictory world.
Currently: Chewing on some ice, but I put on socks and made some tea. The tea is hibiscus something or other and it is very tart. I have become indulgent and reckless with my tea and have begun using two tea bags instead of one. Am I made of money or something?!
Currently: Reading Ian McEwan's Atonement. Gorgeous, cinematic writing. All I can imagine is Kiera Knightley in that green dress from the movie, though, and I really want to see myself instead. Do you ever imagine yourself as the main character in the novel? I try hard to do this, but I usually can't. Except for maybe in Franny and Zooey. Side note (everything seems to be a side note with me): I read Chopin's The Awakening yesterday and loved it. I read it back in high school, which was approximately 14,000 years ago, but it felt like I was reading it for the first time. Would recommend! Can I recommend some books for you right now? Okay, thanks.
Books I Want to Recommend to You:
Tortilla Flat by John Steinbeck
The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie
Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout
Thunderstruck & Other Stories by Elizabeth McCracken
Cassandra at the Wedding by Dorothy Baker
Angels in America by Tony Kushner
That's sufficient. Now, if you are so lucky, you can grab a tray of ice cubes, a cup of two-tea-bag tea, some social constructs, and a good book. You are gorgeous! You are cinematic! You are an idiot genius! Bless you.
Friday, February 12, 2016
I have taken a few days off from checking my email. Probably not the smartest idea. Although maybe? Maybe disconnecting and not being so easy to reach isn't a bad thing at all. It's probably pretty healthy. Last night after watching my beloved anime series (for realz!), I googled how to live like a hermit. I already do, but it reassured me that other people do this as well and that, for the most part, it's okay. I mean, as long as you aren't off in a cabin making bombs or hoarding fingernail clippings or whatever, I think a break from society to partake in a life of contemplation sounds dynamite. (I guess I shouldn't have used the word "dynamite" after talking about bombs. Also, it is not 1974.)
I won't be a hermit forever. I like genuine human interaction too much. I think I go through periods, as we all do, of solitude. They are necessary. They aren't easy, that's for sure. These times of isolation are rich with both loneliness and insight. But if one can work through the loneliness, the insights will become clearer and more valuable and I have no idea what I'm saying anymore. I'm too cold to think. Thanks, tray of ice cubes I just chewed.
What I'm trying to get at is that I shouldn't feel guilty for "taking a break." I shouldn't beat myself up for not going to every concert, show, or party that comes my way. I know that's not what I need right now. I know it's just the pressure of the outside world telling me that I should "get out more" and "be social." Well, maybe everyone in the outside world needs to "get in more" and "read a book." Ever thought of that, hmmmm?
Well, I'm off to warm up my cold bones over a heater vent. I hope my exes and my mom and everyone else didn't hate this post too much. I hope you learned a lot! And if you didn't, let me quickly leave you with a few astonishing facts about sea turtles: The seven species that can be found today have been around for 110 MILLION years. Green sea turtles can stay underwater for as long as five hours. Most sea turtles undergo long migrations, some as far as 1400 miles. Our universe is lying on the shell of a sea turtle. I think.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
So, note to self: Don't forget about poetry! Don't abandon it quite yet. Not again. Another note to the same self: Read poetry. We know you already know how to read and that you like it almost too much, so now your assignment is to read and absorb every poem you can find. Dissect it, sometimes. Don't dissect it, often. Love it, hopefully. Hate it, hopefully. Hopefully whatever you do you will just feel things, these "things" being emotions. Remember how you cried in your bedroom and whispered "wow" after reading that one poem by that one French poet you've already forgotten? That was good. Aim for that.
But yeah, I had another banana today (see previous post, people!) before running and NOT AN OUNCE OF CAFFEINE and I was, like, a roadrunner. Ugh. Roadrunners remind me of New Mexico. Quick Google search tells me that New Mexico does indeed have roadrunners and that they are SURPRISE SURPRISE the state bird. Somehow I take this as a sign. Probably because I am delusional and look for/see signs in all things.
The fog has lifted. Now the smog is left, leaving me with more junk in my nose and throat than usual. Junk in my throat. I'm so sorry I typed that. No deleting it now, though. Sort of related in a few ways, but do you ever wish you were Catholic just so you could go to confessional? I would make up so many lies in that booth. And I would speak in a heavy cockney accent. But mostly I just wish I could be a priest so that I could listen to everyone's disturbing and totally wacky sins. We are all so disturbing and all so totally wacky and definitely so sinful. "So sinful!" she said cautiously as she bit into a red velvet cake pop.
SHOWER. Must must must shower now. And chug 7,000 ounces of coffee. One of these is a joke, you decide which one. And while you're at it, tell me all of your sins. <3
Other things I am: I am determined to eat more bananas. You'd think I eat plenty of them due to banana phone pics or whatevs, but I don't. ALTHOUGH if I look at the environmental impact of bananas, maybe I shouldn't eat more/any of them. I ate a banana phone yesterday and felt like a superhero. My hands/fingers also seemed to hurt less, which may have had nothing to do with the banana, but it also could have had everything to do with the banana. I could just take potassium pills. Pills for every meal. Caffeine pills. Wait, no! Scratch that!
Two paragraphs in and all you know is that I am attempting to drink less caffeine and eat more bananas. I am nothing if not wildly fascinating. So that I do not go on and on and on about other trivial matters, let me quickly get them out of the way in the form of a list. A short list.
*I am reading Rebecca and it is so indulgent and addicting and a perfect book for this foggy Wyeth day.
*No more dreams about my exes, okay subconscious? It's been quite the gift, but I don't want to accept anymore of your gifts. Give me back my dreams of Woody, please.
*I have a freakin' cold sore and I feel like a freakin' leper.
*Will be going to the bookstore in less than an hour. Will spend money I do not have buying books I do not need. Well, I do need the books, but there is this little socialist place around the block that lets me check out any and every book I want. Even the ones with sinister housekeepers and mysterious predecessors.
*I should go make myself presentable for the sales associates at Barnes. Please excuse me now while I attempt to cover up this cold sore with a banana phone.
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Anyway, a private journal. A place where I can complain about writer's block, worry endlessly about my future (or lack thereof), wax poetic about dreams involving Woody Harrelson and Kanye, and bitch about my various exes. Yes. Now I won't embarrass myself or ruin my chances of employment here on this blog. WHICH MEANS... I am free to discuss current events with you. Politics, entertainment, you name it. That could be the title of my blog. "Politics, Entertainment, You Name It! Jernal's Musings on Life in the 21st Century."
Donald Trump. My thoughts? Here we go. So I am about 87% certain that he is nothing more than a really good performance artist. I still can't believe that he is serious about all of this. A part of me believes that the Clintons and the Trumps got together one lazy afternoon in the Hamptons and discussed the possibility of him running for office. It began as a joke, brought on by one too many mimosas. But then it snowballed into a full-fledged plan. Soon everyone was sober and serious and scheming and here we are -- a year or so later and Trump is giving the performance of his life.
Beyonce. I just really like her thighs. I know that's me being a lamewad and judging another woman's body, but I can't help it. None of us can help it. We are animals. We look at other people and their bodies and I think it's okay to like or dislike something on the surface, so long as we realize that it's ultimately silly to do so and that there is far, far more to a person than just their arms/legs/thighs/ankles/neck acne. NECK ACNE. I remember sitting behind a boy in an English class who had the worst neck acne and it would be bleeding half of the time. Poor kid. But at least he had nice thighs.
Black Lives Matter. Yes, they do. And I am not going to get into this because it actually deserves some serious thought and respect and not just me being a dumbass making dumb jokes and rambling on and on and making obscure references to Russian novels and interrupting everything by adding parenthetical statements that do nothing but, well, interrupt. A subject of this magnitude needs none of that from me. I will say, however, that the Unitarian church up in Salt Lake has a banner outside of their building declaring "Black Lives Matter." Thank you for that, Unis. Time to step up your game, every other religious organization.
Well! That was fun. It was nice to be a little more lighthearted today in my post. It took me over one thousand posts to realize that maybe a dear old diary is the way to go for most everything on my mind. But don't you worry -- I am not "shorting" you on anything. This gal (me) has got a lot on her mind, except for when she's chewing on ice cubes. I will always, always have something to say. Don't let my shyness fool you, fools. (I say "fools" in the most endearing way. You are the sun in my sky, the cream in my coffee, the Kanye in my unheated outdoor swimming pool. Love you, fools.)
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
So now that I have finished running and am now running on an endorphin high, I will spend the rest of my Tuesday contributing virtually nothing to society. I will lose and find myself in a book. I will be stubborn and stupid and spend several hours outside despite the gunky air. I will undoubtedly worry about something almost entirely made up inside of my sometimes-thinking head. I will return books to the library and check out more, essentially checking out an identity or perhaps collecting clues to whatever it is I am searching for. I will cave in and bake banana bread tonight. I will write by hand, tingling fingers be damned.
What luxury. And, of course, I feel downright guilty for having these hours and hours and hours given to me to explore. Society tells me I'm useless unless I have a job or a family. Well, then, consider me useless. Useless and content with watching the sparrows return, the ice melt from the branches, the light in the sky lingering and hinting at longer, fuller days.
Speaking of confusing, I had a dream about swimming with Kanye last night. First of all, I can't swim. Second, why were we swimming in an unheated outdoor pool in the middle of winter? It might be beneficial to start interpreting my dreams, but I have no interest in anything these days except for reading dusty novels and thawing out frozen brains.
That's not true. I have more than two interests. For example, I'm interested in New Mexico. Again. In fact, I'm making it a goal to visit New Mexico this year. AND I REALLY THINK IT MIGHT HAPPEN. I also desperately want to visit Laura. It would be convenient if she lived in Taos, but it's cool. Maybe one day. Maybe one day she and I will live on a ranch out in Taos where we will paint and write and eat chilies and talk with ghosts as the sun sets. I can dream! I can! I can dream of things other than getting hypothermia while swimming with Kanye!
Did I tell you I read all of Sherman Alexie's The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven yesterday? Remarkable book. Alexie is such a poetic writer. I learned a lot from reading him, actually. He made me think that MAYBE I could go forward with this whole novel writing thing. Thing. I should expand my vocabulary if I am to be a serious novelist. Me, serious? Get serious. Get real. Get in the pool with your dreams. Swim until they come true. Sink into success. Don't make sense. Don't chew on ice cubes, just chilies. The chilies will wake up my brain. Fingers crossed.
Monday, February 8, 2016
Oh man oh man do I want to be outside. Do I want to be outside? I do. I just know that once I go outside I will be out there until the sun disappears. I know that's not a bad thing, especially since, you know, I have nothing else to do. But I want to "test" myself and try to balance out my day with other activities aside from wandering the streets in Orem with my eyes closed, face towards the sun. (Turns out I'm excellent at walking with no vision. The sun seems to be the only thing I need. And decent shoes.) Of course, my other activities tend to be the exact same activities day after day. Read. Write to do list for the day. Write, usually a blog post, but seriously consider picking back up on that novel-ish thing of mine. Read some more. Try to clean, try to organize various parts of the house, maybe take out the recycling. Eat, sort of. Run, mostly. Shower, maaaybe write, but mostly go outside for hours and hours and hours, eyes either closed or down on the pages of a book. Eventually I will wind down, maybe drink some tea, boil some eggs, look up recipes that will take me decades to actually make, read some more, and then find various ways to zone out, whether that's through the Internet, food, television, or a lethal combination of all three. There you go. The list of my daily activities, a list which you never knew you needed to know (you didn't need to know it, just so you know).
This schedule and these activities are not bad per se; it's only bad when I become so attached to how I do things and when I do them that I get legit anxiety if anything shifts or spontaneously happens. As a pseudo-Buddhist, shouldn't I be actively practicing non-attachment? And being in the moment? And making compassionate action my goal for each and every day? Yes, of course, and totally. It's going to take me seriously examining my life and my actions to make a change (or a couple of changes). It's going to take patience, perspective, and perseverance. I sound like a tired self-help author. I think I'll go help myself right now and stick my sweet face in the direction of the sun with nothing but the sky above me and possibilities ahead of me. Godspeed. Buddhaspeed. I'd high five you, but my fingers hurt.
So yesterday I felt as rad as a luminous sphere. Today I am still a luminous sphere, but do I feel like it? Not sure yet. Too soon to tell. But as evidence has shown, one day is on, the other is off. And if yesterday was definitely on, then... NO! It doesn't have to follow the pattern. Besides, maybe the pattern isn't that obvious or simple. Maybe there's more complexity to this pattern that I cannot yet see. Maybe, juuust maybe, there isn't even a pattern. Maybe it's all just a river and certain days are dams, other days are rapids.
One significant thing that made yesterday so grand was the simple act of sitting outside in the sun. I temporarily forgot how healing it is to sit. To sit and listen and not do a single damn thing. Hell, even take a second to close your eyes. But then open them again and look around, really look around. Just see things, don't say things -- not out loud, not in your head. The stories we tell ourselves over and over and over again more often than not get in the way. Sometimes our minds just need to flow and we need to float. We've done enough sinking as it is.
I want to remember this. I need to remember this. I need to give myself the space to stop, the space to exist. And if I forget? Well, all I have to do is look up into space and see myself, radiating across the dark canvas of the night sky.
Sunday, February 7, 2016
So yeah! Quick thoughts, quickly coming your way, best to get out of the way. Here they come!
What if I move to Thailand? Hear me out. The cost of living is ridiculously cheap and... And I've already talked about this, huh? Like, yesterday. Who knows. I never reread my posts. It's probably for the best that I don't. Thailand: Cheap, friendly, Buddhist. What's not to love? (What's not to love is the gabillion miles I'll be from my loved ones.)
If not Thailand, what about New Mexico? I talk and write and dream about that place so much that you'd think it was almost a mythical place. It's not. There is a lot of tension there between the wealthy and the poor, whether visible or not. There are chemistry teachers making meth. There is the lack of, you know, trees or whatever. But the sky! The openness. The dreams of Georgia and D.H. and green chilies. If nothing else, I should make it a goal to visit New Mexico (for the first time, mind you) this year.
I am currently reading Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon. Soooo good. That's all I'll write for my "review" -- that it is soooo good. Just trust me on this one! I had never read her before for whatever reason, but... better late than never. The bitch can write.
I have been almost euphoric all day long and then just barely I had a strange mood swing where I got upset by a simple question and slammed the door. Meeee-ghan. Meghan! Come on. I wonder if it was just hunger. You know, feelin' "hangry." Still, that's not an excuse for my attitude. Other than that, I've been a real peach today! I much prefer being a peach than being a pain. Note to self.
That being said, I might go make some peach tea right now. No, not peach tea. That has caffeine. No caffeine anymore. How about that kava "stress relief" tea I have in the cupboard? I think it works. Hey, if it helps me to relax, I'll drink it, even if it smells like a wet dog. And yes, I should get something to eat as well. Can't just kava kava my life away. (If I could, I would. That sounds hella chill, bro.)
Peace, peaches. Practice kindness tonight, to yourself and others. Oh, and, uh... Touchdown! Go sports! Super Bowl! A bowl of Grape Nuts sounds so good right now. I mean, a bowl of nachos and beer!!! Yeah! Team!
My dreams last night did not, sadly, include Woody Harrelson. But they did include rare and intricately designed moths the size of my face. Terrifying, to be honest. Beautiful, yes, but terrifying. Rachel Maddow made an appearance in my hallucination/dream. Ms. Maddow is always welcome in my dreams. Now the real challenge is how do I get Woody and Rachel to appear together? That might take brand name sleeping pills, which means I'll first have to find a job to support my habit.
Job. Jobs. Please don't make me have two jobs again. That was a real bummer. But I was lucky to even have a job. And I realize so many people have to work at least two jobs just to scrape by. Yes, I was also just scraping by, but I did not have any other mouths to feed or enormous debts to pay off. I had it alright, I guess. But I guess "alright" wasn't cutting it.
I should start thinking about where exactly I want to work. Do I want it to be long-term? Or am I going to be moving again in the near future? Can someone just hire me to walk around outside and look at plants and the sky? I guess I sort of had that job at the can't-mention-their-name-because-I-might-get-into-trouble-even-though-I-no-longer-work-for-them-and-am-not-even-saying-anything-negative-about-them school. I got to play with kids for half an hour outside. That was pretty sweet. And good heavens it paid well. Sigh. But it's okay. Nothing about the move was black and white. The gray areas are always the hardest to examine.
Okay, one not-so-great thing about those generic dream pills is that it makes you all kinds of groggy the next morning. I guess groggy can be a blessing sometimes. It sands down the sharp corners of the mind, allowing oneself to be too tired to care.
I'll end this with some Rachel photos because, well, I am too tired to care about writing anything more at the moment.
Saturday, February 6, 2016
If I do not spend my energy on these various activities, where do I spend it? These somewhat self-destructive things that I do on a regular basis have become so familiar, so comfortable. If they are suddenly taken away from me, will I panic? Will I be apathetic? Will I laugh and take the habits back? I want to quit them, I don't want them back -- so it looks like I need to replace them. I need a plan, I suppose.
I can write. Privately and freely. No editing. Just write, just let it be awful, just let the typos happen. Point is to make it happen, to quit talking about writing and actually do the writing.
I can meditate. Because it works. It's hard, but hard things are often the things that actually work. Ain't no shortcut to enlightenment, buds.
I can be suuuuper obnoxious and get into suuuuper healthy foods. This will replace the less-than-healthy substances I put into my less-than-happy body. Does this mean I'll have to start Instagramming my gluten-free dairy-free cage-free hormone-free antibiotic-free flavor-free kale/spirulina/nutritional yeast smoothie? (There are probably no nutritional yeast smoothies out there, but maybe I can be the one to start the trend?)
I can spend more time with people I love or at least with people I like/tolerate. It is so obvious that I need to surround myself with other humans, at least occasionally. The hermit life is probably my destiny, but before I reach that destiny, I might as well experience what it's like to engage in real life conversations. And I guess a hug or pat on the back or fist bump wouldn't hurt. The fist bump might actually hurt, though. My knuckles are dry, cracked, sensitive.
Well, there's more I can do. There will always be more that I can do. But maybe it's time for me to stop writing about these replacements and try one of them out? I think I'll go with the eating-healthy-foods one. Okay, my wasabi laced jumbo sandwich may not be labeled as "healthy," but it is labeled as edible and if there's something I need right now it is edible substances. In short, I need food. Guess we all do. And we all need to log off. Right now. Just for a minute or five. Just long enough to read a poem or five. You can thank me later. <3
Q. Have you ever slept in the same room with someone you liked?
A. Ohhhh!!! Here come the juicy/juvenile questions! If there's one thing I do not like, it is sleeping in the same room with someone I like. Or dislike, obviously. Or anyone. Maybe a cat would be okay, although I worry it would scratch my eyes out in my sleep. I don't know if it's just that I haven't found "the right person" yet or what, but I would much rather be alone while I'm dreaming than sharing space with another living creature. In fact, I've said multiple times that if I ever get married, I will make sure my spouse and I have separate bedrooms or, ideally, separate homes. I'm impossible!
Q. Do you get annoyed easily?
With myself? Yes. With others? Yes, sometimes. Mostly with myself, which is awful. Sometimes with others, which is also awful and makes me feel like a piece of trash immediately after becoming annoyed... Depending on what the person was doing, of course. But most of the time I get annoyed at super insignificant things. A lamp is turned on during the daytime. Coughing. Anything and everything to do with the grocery store at 5pm. My nail breaks, my teeth need to be brushed, my hands are sticky. Coughing. Orange cars. The coughing thing really makes me feel bad, to be honest. THE PERSON CAN'T HELP THAT THEY HAVE A MORTAL BODY. Sheesh. (Although, admit it, there are a few folks out there who cough like crazy and refuse to simply wander over to the drinking fountain and take a sip of damn water. Like, is this for attention?! Gimme a break!)
Q. Are you the type of person who likes to be out or at home?
A. OMG. Do you even know me? Of course you don't. You only know the online blog version of me. Well well well, I'm about to surprise the shit out of you -- I actually like to be out. Not at home. Let me explain. Okay, sure. I'm an introvert. And okay sure, I'd probably rather be at home 100% of the time than at a very loud party on a Friday night. But just at home 24/7 would drive me cuckoo. I get restless after approximately 20 minutes if I am inside. I need to literally be outside of the home. Outside of any home, building, area with four walls and a ceiling. Again, I am impossible. This is why I think a yurt or perhaps a tree house would be the perfect dwelling for my impossible soul. A warm place to sleep at night, but one which is still open to the natural world.
Goodness. It's 1:01 in the afternoon and I still haven't brushed my teeth. Questions can wait. Answers can wait. Dental hygiene can never wait (unless you've been absorbed in a compelling book all morning). Floss, STAT.
But do get me started on a project. Please. I feel useless, restless, directionless. Less than. The solution to these empty feelings isn't necessarily to fill it with more more more. The trick is to get rid of stuff, to get rid of distractions. Less equals more yada yada yada. Oh, there I go again -- speaking Yiddish. Side note: According to Wiktionary, "yada yada yada" is popularly attributed to Yiddish, but this is dismissed by etymologists. How in the world did I spell "etymologists" correctly on the first try? Maybe because I am a ZHENI. "Zheni" is Yiddish for "genius," as if you didn't already know that.
So yeah. A project. I need at least something to keep me busy for a day or three just so I can wrap myself up in the warm blanket of accomplishment, a blanket which will eventually suffocate me. Clean the bathroom? Yeah... I guess that's something I could do. Organize my closet? You know, maybe. Go through boxes in the basement? Yes, because I love earwigs. Okay, so none of these sound especially exciting, but that's normal. I need to break up these "tasks" into 20 minute chunks or something or else they shall never be completed. I say all of this, but I'm simply going to end up being absorbed in some novel for the rest of the freakin' day. I'm hopeless.
I sound hopeless, but I'm not really. I am just sort of stuck. I think the elation and newness that came from moving back home has worn off. I love being here, don't get me wrong, but I am beginning to get too comfortable in my routines, too idle. I need to challenge myself to get out more, to try different things, to not hold myself to some strange, exhausting standard. I also need to desperately brush my teeth and get dressed for the day -- the day full of less. And that might not be such a bad thing.
Friday, February 5, 2016
1. What's your favorite color?
Ah, the age old question. I've been asked this since I was able to form words, which was around the age of 23. My answer has changed over the years -- for a good portion of my adolescence it was "silver and mint." I thought I was such a unique duck for having that answer. After my silver and mint phase, my favorite color changed to green and there it has stayed. I am beginning to be strongly drawn to yellow, though. It reminds me of my childhood and the way the sun would wash my whole room in a warm glow at the end of the day. Yellow and green. Crap. Those are UVU's colors, huh? Yeeeaaaah school spirit.
2. Could you use some sleep right now?
Funny you should ask. Yes, but I probably need food more than zzzz. As I mentioned in my previous post, I took a sleeping pill last night and actually went to bed before 3am. I am tempted to take another one tonight because damn it felt good to clock in more than 5 hours of sleep. I slept better when I had a job -- probably because I had to wake up early, so I forced myself to wind down and get into bed at a reasonable hour. I also didn't have the allure of television, so I found it easier to just go, "Meh. I'm bored. Might as well sleep." Anyway, this is so boring.
3. Does it bother you when someone hides things from you?
What do you mean exactly? Like, hides their diary? No, because that's their business and I'm also really good at finding things. I can be a snoop if I so wish to be. But hiding emotions? C'mon. I can see right through that. Don't hide your emotions because frankly it creeps me out. If someone is always, "Yeah! Hey! Everything is fine!" I wanna say, "Okay, maybe, but not all the time. I am your friend, not a stranger. No small talk. Where are my shoes? And wasn't there a banana in my hand a few minutes ago?" I don't care too much for secrets unless it is very critical that whatever it is remains a secret. But no need to be dishonest or elusive. It's best to be honest and transparent in most cases.
TIME TO GO BACK OUTSIDE! Oh my oh my it is beautiful out there today, folks. It's almost overwhelming. The entire sky is a light therapy box. Take advantage of it while it lasts.
Speaking of poor, I just paid some bills. And in a way it was kind of exhilarating? Exhilarating is a strong word. If nothing else, it felt nice to check something of actual importance off of my to do list. You see, I can be depressed, anxious, unemployed, and still pay my bills! Five days late, sure, but they have been paid nonetheless.
So I guess I just spent a paragraph discussing bills. Boooooring. Did you fall asleep yet? I'll tell you what will make you fall asleep -- sleeping pills, duh. I took one last night for the first time in a long time and man oh man were my dreams wacky. No one wants to hear about someone else's dream UNLESS that dream has to do with playing on a jungle gym with Woody Harrelson. He was even wearing his damn hemp pants in my dream. Naturally Woody and I were best friends, which I think is something we could be in real life if I ever meet him. WHEN I meet him, excuse me.
Sometimes I think I blog in order to feel like I have completed some self-imposed writing assignment for the day. Like, "Yep! Wrote about bills and Woody Harrelson today. Gold star, A+, done and done. Now I don't even have to think about that whole novel-writing business. What novel? Exactly." And then la la la la la I go about my day, head in the clouds, avoiding real life. I like this goofy blog, I do. But I also wonder why I put so much time into it and close to zero minutes into any other writing projects. I think I like the instant gratification that comes with a blog. Type type type and then poof -- published. Having other people read, react, and relate to my writing/thoughts is also a plus. And, if it isn't glaringly obvious, this blog isn't perfect. That's what's nice about it. I am so stubborn about making most everything I do perfect (a set-up for failure, by the way) that this blog comes as a welcome relief. I have a feeling that I would be driven cuckoo by other forms of writing -- trying to write the perfect first sentence, the perfect chapter, the perfect character. What I need to learn is the power of rough drafts, revision, rewrites. Please, Meghan, don't try to be perfect on the first try. Or on any try. Just write and get it down, let it out.
Fiiiiine. I'll try. I really will. Where will I start today? Should I revisit a story I started over a year ago? Or maybe the muse came to me last night in a dream. Maybe my novella will be a heartwarming tale of two best friends in hemp pants having the time of their lives high up on the monkey bars. Emphasis on the word HIGH, if you know what I mean.
Okay! Now go pay some bills! It will be intoxicating, I promise.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
I shouldn't, but I do take comfort knowing that other people have had a somewhat shitty day. Or at least a strange one. Something feels off, does it not? Are we all suffering from vampire bites (see previous post)? Maybe Thursday is the new Monday. Maybe Monday is the new Thursday. Maybe that doesn't make sense, but you know what? Days in general don't make sense. Some chump named Gregorian created our calendar a freakin' longass time ago and we just accepted it. We don't have to accept or respect no calendar, fool(s)! Let's create our own days. Let's create our own ways of seeing, doing, working, resting, being. Winter can be merely a day long if we want it to be. Summer can drag her lovely feet around for years. Our years can be made up of the minutes right before sunset. Our time can be an eternity, wearing nothing but an indeterminately long dress.
Soooo now I'll quit my attempts at being poetic. I'm too tired to move my fingers across this crumbless keyboard. Yes, I've been diligent at not eating while computing. I've also been not eating, mostly due to the fact that I remain for hours or perhaps centuries in my head, distracted by what could be and never was. It's not the smartest, no. And so I ask myself, "What would Gregorian do?" He'd probably eat a sandwich the size of a year with extra Saturdays, dripping with Tuesdays, hold the Mondays. And so I too feast.
Anyway. Anemia. I think it has gotten worse lately for whatever reason. I don't want to go on and on about my symptoms and complaints (although I apparently have no problem going on and on about sparkling teenage vampires), but I will say that it is probably the reason why I am so drained of energy. Does it also zap motivation? Because I have none of that either. Organize and clean room? Meh. Collect words and form them into a poem or five? Nah. Look into teaching in Japan or farming in Costa Rica? Maybe tomorrow. I'll just sit by my window, read books, chew on ice. (Anemics crave ice. This is very true. Look it up. I'm betting ice goes nice with medium-rare steak. The rarer the better. Give me blood with a side of ice.)
Apathy and anemia and alliteration and anime and "and." All I can do, folks. I can't even get myself to get up and get coffee with pals. ALTHOUGH in my defense I was totally ready to get coffee with two friends on two separate occasions over the past week and a half, but both friends forgot. :( The sad face emoticon is a bit too dramatic. I didn't care too much because, you know, leaving the house is difficult, but it still kinda sucks when you're forgotten.
I've forgotten what I was going to write about. No, I haven't. I don't think I began writing with anything in mind. I am considering starting a private journal where all of these wishy washy thoughts can rest peacefully and privately. If there's one thing I don't need to do it is to compulsively blog while never saying anything new. My blog will be reserved for, I don't know, movie reviews or something. Guess I need to start watching movies and watching them with a critical eye. Or not. Think I'll just grab the ice tray out of the freezer and open a book.
I hope my next post is less of a downer.
Where to start. Let's start with Japan. Have I mentioned that, at the age of almost-32, I'm finally getting into anime? I can't remember the who what where when why or how, but here I am, at 2 in the morning watching large eyed girls with wings chase after crows and run into men with scary masks and... And I can't really remember what else is happening in this anime series I am watching, but it's charming. And surprisingly poetic.
Continuing with Japan -- what if I plan to teach English overseas? In a place very similar to Japan and/or Japan? They are so polite there! And smart and probably really good at karaoke and... And my grandmother would be so disappointed. She was in her 20s during WWII, so... I am using a lot of ellipses in this post. I think it's because words are not coming so easily to me today and it is frustrating. They didn't come to me yesterday, either. I went nuts with posts a few days ago... Maybe it drained me of all words except for words having to do with Japan? I don't even want to write about Japan. I don't even want to write (dot dot do) right now.
Last night I had a dream that there were three moons. I only saw two at first, which did not seem abnormal to me. But then a stranger on the street pointed up and said, "See?" And I saw. And it was the color of coral and it was floating there alone in the busy ocean of the night sky. I tried taking a photo, but I had lost my camera. I stood in awe instead.
It's snowing. Again. It keeps doing this and it keeps messing with my head. Do I love it? Do I fear it? Do I wish I was sitting in a quiet cabin in Vermont or lying down on the sand dunes in Death Valley? I've never been to Vermont, but I hear it's progressive and small. I've been to Death Valley and I've slept on its sand dunes. It was February, the sand was warm, I slept soundly.
I might give in and eat something now. I am not hungry, but I can't keep craving emptiness.
So maybe I won't go to Japan anytime soon. Maybe I won't leave words all over a screen today or tomorrow or yesterday. Maybe I will turn to the page instead. My hand misses the pen's connection. My hand misses connection. My, I miss connection.
It must be my voice, right? No. It's my fear. My voice, if I pause to listen to it, is strong. It knows, it is steady, it is quiet -- which is why I must listen. My fear, on the other hand, is one loud mothereffer. It demands attention, like a bad quick loan commercial. Fear is insecure -- fear is insecurity itself -- which is why it is so vocal. It doesn't have the quiet confidence of my authentic voice. I'm sick of fear. I prefer silence.
I am going to give myself a break before I break. I must have said that exact sentence at some point in the past. Multiple times. We all need a vacation from fear from time to time. Sometimes I'm tempted to make it a permanent vacation and just live in a state of bliss forever, but that's not really possible. Besides, I'm beginning to suspect that fear serves a purpose -- but different kinds of fear. The fear I'm talking about is the fear of oneself. That's the bad one, dudes. That's the one which paralyzes, not propels.
I'm on the verge of figuring out how to hush this insecurity... I have some thinking to do. And drinking. Drinking of coffee. But probably tea. Less caffeine, still warm, just right. Just write. There you go. That's one way to hush the insecurity: Just write.
Tuesday, February 2, 2016
When I pause, step back, and take a look at what I write, I see that I am a poster child (WOMAN) of hashtag white girl problems. Hashtag first world problems. Hashtag spelling out hashtag. I use up your valuable time to have you listen to me complain about lack of sleep, complain about too much free time, complain about exercising at a gym too often. Yes, the world is bigger than my complaints. Thank goodness.
But I don't want to dismiss my feelings completely. Feelings are feelings and it's best if we allow ourselves to feel them. Acknowledge them. Let them run their course without harming anyone or oneself. You know, cry if you wanna cry. Punch a pillow if you want to punch a person. That kind of thing. Letting yourself feel those crummy emotions opens up the door for you to notice and fully appreciate the exhilarating, purely blissful moments that will, I promise, happen.
Hi, I'm Meg and recently I've become a self-help guru??? I say that mockingly, of course. I ain't no self-help anything, although I've sure sounded like I'm trying to be one recently. Here! Let me spout of some wooey wooey crap you've heard two dozen times before (and more eloquently stated). Two dozen times? So you've heard these platitudes 24 times? That, folks, is math without paper. Did the addition in my head. Oh well. If you love me, you'll love ALL of me -- and that includes my preachy, wooey wooey craptastic side.
Yeah. I'm just so so so so tired. I don't know why I'm even forcing myself to blog. Maybe because I feel like I can't do anything recently except for blog, binge on books, and bake bread? Yeah. Maybe.
I think I'll go watch some reality TV and drink a Fresca. And who knows? I might be ambitious and whip up an omelet or three. There's no telling what surprises this Tuesday night holds. Peace out, fellow ghouls. Keep feeling all of the feels, you hear me? xoxo


text: Not just places for eternal rest, many graveyards are known to have paranormal activity and sightings of restless spirits. Explore these places if you must, please do so with respect for both the living, and the (un)dead. Have a haunted cemetery near you? Leave a comment or send us an email (with any pics) to firstname.lastname@example.com and we may add it to the list.


text:
Quote of the day - Ann Coulter
"Democrats are on the precipice of securing their reputation as the Chamberlains of our time. In fact, today's appeasers are worse than Neville Chamberlain : Chamberlain didn't have himself as an example." -- Ann Coulter, P. 13 - Treason
Labels: Coulter, Democrat war strategy, history, Quote


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Moros y cristianos
The announcement failed to attract much media attention outside Cuba … until now.
Under the headline, "As import prices soar, Cuba pushes to produce more rice", that grand dame of English-language journalism, The International Herald Tribune, today reports that the Castro regime is planning to double rice production over the next five years.
According to the report, the regime is concerned that soaring rice prices in the world market will place at risk what the reporter describes as "the national dish of beans and rice".
After all, we are told that "rice-obsessed Cubans" go through an average of 60 kilograms of rice a year – more than double the US average.
In other words, let's hear it for those clever, pro-active guys in Havana, who are promising to double the current crop of 200,000 metric tons of milled rice a year, thus ensuring Cubans don't go without their beloved plate of congri.
Which is all very well, except for the fact that the announcement is nothing but media spin from the masterful Castro brothers.Assuming production is doubled in the next five years - which is a big, big assumption - Cuba will still produce less rice in 2013 than it did in the late 1980s, when the annual rice production was more than 425,000 metric tons a year.
You see, under the Castro brothers, the Cuban rice industry has gone backwards. Big time. Forcing the regime to import more and more rice, which is fine when you have Moscow picking up the tab but not so fine when you have to find the money from your own reserves.
Now, that's a story worthy of the Herald Tribune.


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As anyone who has been on either end of a short sale knows, there's nothing "short" about this type of real-estate transaction.
Complicated from the get-go, a short sale is basically when a homeowner owes more on a house than it is worth and lists it for less than the amount owed. Based on a documented case of economic and financial hardship, the lender agrees to accept the lower price, forgiving any outstanding debt.
For instance, if a house was purchased for $300,000 but is now worth only $250,000 and the homeowner still owes $290,000, the realtor would list the home at the market price.
"We would list at $250,000, and they would probably get an offer at $230,000 or $240,000," explains Melinda Peterson, short-sales specialist, principal broker and owner of Real Estate Café in Grants Pass. "Then the short-sale process begins. Once they get a negotiated offer between the seller and buyer, the realtor sends a packet to the seller's mortgage company, who then decides whether or not they'll accept the lower price."
If it goes through, a short sale satisfies the homeowner's debt and often is less stressful than a foreclosure because the home is actually sold on the market.
But because short sales can be "tricky transactions," it's important to understand the entire process, says Scott Gephart, a short-sales specialist with RE/MAX Platinum in Medford and Ashland.
"In order to properly handle them, one must be a great negotiator when dealing with banks," Gephart explains, adding that banks are "extremely picky" about what is required and the order in which documents must be submitted to lenders. "These minor details can quickly kill a potential deal or cause a client to lose first position due to an improperly written offer."
Bank statements, tax returns, a financial worksheet and hardship letter are included in the packets, which can contain as many as 75 pages. Sometimes the bank will immediately decline the offer but, most often, a short sale takes an average of three to six months, and sometimes nine, to negotiate, says Peterson, who has been representing buyers and sellers in short sales for more than a decade.
"Most of the time we see them agree, but they don't always agree on our first offering price — they may come back with another price or send out their own appraisers to come up with prices," Peterson says.
Because this process takes so long, it is typical for buyers to keep looking, often finding something else before the short sale goes through.
"But if the buyer is patient and willing and really loves the house, it can work out well for everybody," says Peterson.
The main benefit for the seller is that a successful short sale does less damage than a foreclosure to the seller's credit score. While foreclosure dings consumers' credit scores for seven years, making it difficult to get a home loan for up to a decade after the foreclosure, a short sale mars a credit score for just two years.
"We've been told that banks look more favorably on a short sale when looking to lend again to the seller," says Peterson. "It can happen in as little as two to three years."
But a short sale also can backfire.
"We can get all the way to the end, and the bank will say 'no' and the house will end up in foreclosure anyway," Peterson says. "And sometimes banks will send a 1099 at the end of the year for the loss, adding to the homeowner's tax bill."
In today's challenging post-mortgage crisis climate, however, the federal government often allows homeowners to not pay taxes on a short-sale shortfall as long as the home was their primary residence.
"That's not necessarily true for people who own investment properties, though," warns Peterson. "For those people, we highly recommend they seek advice from a certified public accountant."
If sellers or buyers think a short sale sounds like a good solution, they should be careful to find a realtor who is qualified to represent them. Although the realtor's board offers a "distressed property certification," a realtor isn't required to have actually worked on a short sale to receive the certification.
Protect yourself by asking the realtor a few questions: Have you ever handled a short sale before? If so, how many? And what is your success rate?
"There are so many variables that can change the picture, and if a professional hasn't been down in the trenches, it can be a disaster," says Peterson.
Gephart agrees. "Ask a potential short-sales specialist if they offer a no-obligation consultation to help explain the ins and outs of this complicated process," he suggests. "Some time spent discussing options will help sellers and buyers decide if a short sale is right for them."
If all the real-estate stars align, a short sale can be a great resource for people in financial distress — and for buyers looking for a sweet investment or a good deal on a primary residence.
Don't Get Caught Short
As anyone who has been on either end of a short sale knows, there's nothing "short" about this type of real-estate transaction.