I didn't hit the stores Friday until 3pm and it wasn't much more than the normal weekend crowd by that point. In Iowa if it was hectic it had to be early in the morning.

When I read this article about a woman being trampled trying to get in to a Walmart for a DVD player for 30 bucks I wasn't surprised, I can believe it. What is so shocking about that?

Now lets face it anybody that would line up at 6am to get a damn cheap DVD player is already not thinking clearly. Watch the woman sue and make millions because she put herself in a pack of dogs and couldn't hold her own ground.

Ahh, the American way.

The last three days went like a whirlwind. Sometimes it still boggles my mind that I can get up in Detroit, fart around online, hop a plane and be home in Iowa by lunch time. Well in this case it would of been Thursday and turkey time.

The airports on both Thursday and Saturday were not overly packed with travelers and that was a good thing. Planes ran on time. Maybe because it was Thanksgiving people were in a better mood than usual, even the pilot joked alot during the flight. Of course I'd rather he would just shut his mouth and take care of business but what the hell.

This was the first day after Thanksgiving I can ever remember being off work. Shopping commenced mainly looking for anything Nemo for the grandchild and memory chips for the the youngest son. Neither of those items faired well but I did come home with a few new items of clothing.

Now here it is Sunday and I'm home thinking I need sleep, and thankfully there is no turkey or pie anywhere on the premises.

Today I am chilling and wishing tomorrow was 4 more days away.

I handed over a rather large check to my ex-husband yesterday. I bought back my home. The deal took place at his girlfriend’s house. I couldn’t help noticing a few of my things adorning her dwelling. That was when the first twinge of anger hit me. As Chris and I got into the car to leave, I commented on the fact that I hadn’t realized before now how much I hated that man.

I was quiet and pensive during the drive to my new old house. I don’t like to be angry. I really dislike the emotion of hate. I kept telling myself there was no need to acknowledge the two feelings that were bubbling up inside of me.

When we walked into the house, a flood of bad memories overcame me. Chris took me into his arms, saying, “You have your house back”. I tried to match the smile that was on his face as I went from room to room trying to shake the darkness that had entered my mood.

We emptied the load we had brought with us and left. I asked Chris if we could make a few stops before heading back to our current home. I needed something important. I bought a flag, not an American flag, just one of those decorative outdoor things people hang.

Today, when we drop off another load of boxes, I’m going to hang the flag. I’m reclaiming this property as mine. I will allow myself a short period of anger. I’ll forgive the past. I’ll embrace the present.

I need to look up resources for today. Chris may need an aphrodisiac for his role in my plan to exorcise some ghosts from our new home.

I have a young college guy that reads my blog fairly regularly for awhile now. He IM's me maybe every other week or so and just says hi, it's usually very brief. He has a very busy life he tells me...and I'm sure at that age it is quite full.

Anyway, he just IM'd me a little bit ago, and probably gave me one of the best compliments of a different sort that I've ever had. I can't remember all the words but I do remember "I like your sense of humor, your soul feels nice."

So as I'm writing this I think about the compliments I get and give through the day. "Your hair looks nice." "Pretty sweater." "You handled that well." The normal common stuff probably almost everyone says. But somehow "your soul feels nice". Wow, now that was a compliment I'll always remember.

To the young guy: I thank you.

Just when I thought the 80's were dead, dead, dead, I read this article.
Please God, do not let big hair return. Big butt or not.

Have you ever had one of those days when every time you turned around, another problem pops up?

Today, I had one those days. My day starts at 4:30 a.m. I have no issues with this, I’m an insomniac, and my thoughts on sleep are it’s a big waste of time. On top of being an insomniac, I’m also a work-aholic. Again, no problem, I work for a non-profit organization, they cater to my need to work 50-60 hours a week.

As Dawn was so kind as to explain my current situation in an earlier post, I’m also moving, arranging a mortgage, being assigned a new job, and planning a wedding. She may have omitted the wedding thing, but yes, I’m adding that to the “see how much stress Susan can handle” test.

So, I start my day at work at 7:00 a.m. Did I mention I’m currently commuting 144 miles a day? That’s right, I rise at 4:30, I leave for work at 5:30, I arrive around 7:00 a.m. I glance at my phone and see 7 voice mails. I left work at 6:00 p.m. yesterday with no voice mails. I open my email to 15 messages. Okay, deep breath, a Viviran washed down with my 3rd cup of coffee. 8:00 a.m., emails addressed and answered, pull the files associated with the 7 voicemails that were all from our 24 hour call center regarding clients with complaints. Oh, and I managed to sneak in 2 copies of a 500 page document my fiancée asked me to take care of for his consulting business. 8:05 a.m. receptionist called in sick, find coverage for the phones and make a life-long enemy in the process.

By 11:00 a.m., I’m looking at the clock, pleading to God to silence my phone. Attend a management meeting and listen to the overpaid clinical director bitch that her staff can’t possibly take on any more responsibility that would alleviate some of my responsibilities to allow me to take on more responsibilities. Have I lost you yet?

3:00 p.m., scramble to get the phone call in to the multiple personality client because she turns into a 4 year old at 3:30 p.m. Damn, couldn’t reach her until 3:35 p.m., I’ll have to call her back tomorrow. Verbatim, “I don’t remember why I called you Ma’am, I’m too little to talk to grown-ups” This from a 37 year old mother of three.

4:00 p.m., make another pot of coffee and answer my phone for a call from the mortgage company asking for additional documentation for tomorrow’s settlement. 4:05 p.m. make call to homeowners insurance company to increase the policy because the house appraised higher than expected. 4:06 p.m. listen to the message from the homeowners insurance company explaining that they close at 4:00 p.m. 4:07 p.m, contemplate the problems associated with not being able to move as planned this weekend.

7:00 p.m. arrive home, hug my lover, state that ordering pizza in for dinner is a damn fine idea, and ask him to open a bottle of Kendal Jackson Cabernet.

8:30 p.m. start 3rd glass of wine and spill my guts to the phantom therapists of the internet.
Tomorrow’s another day.

A friend sent me this in email today, for some reason I really like it.

STUPID PEOPLE:

Stupid people should have to wear signs that just say, " I'm Stupid".
That way you wouldn't rely on them, would you? You wouldn't ask them
anything. It would be like, "Excuse me... oops, never mind. I didn't see your
sign."

It's like before my wife and I moved. Our house was full of boxes and
there was a U-Haul truck in our driveway. My neighbor comes over and
says "Hey, you moving?" "Nope. We just pack our stuff up once or twice a week to see how many boxes it takes. Here's your sign."

A couple of months ago I went fishing with a buddy of mine, we pulled
his boat into the dock, I lifted up this big 'ol stringer of bass and this idiot on the dock goes, "Hey, y'all catch all them fish?"
"Nope-Talked 'em into giving up. Here's your sign."

I was watching one of those animal shows on the Discovery Channel.
There was a guy inventing a shark bite suit. And there's only one way to test
it. "Alright Jimmy, you got that shark suit on, it looks good... They want
you to jump into this pool of sharks, and you tell us if it hurts when they bite you." "Well, all right, but hold my sign. I don't wanna lose it."

Last time I had a flat tire, I pulled my truck into one of those side-of-the-road gas stations. The attendant walks out, looks at my truck, looks at me, and I SWEAR he said, "Tire go flat?" I couldn't resist. I said, "Nope. I was driving around and those other three just swelled right up on me. Here's your sign."

We were trying to sell our car about a year ago. A guy came over to
the house and drove the car around for about 45 minutes. We get back to
the house, he gets out of the car, reaches down and grabs the exhaust
pipe, then says, "Darn that's hot!" See? If he'd been wearing his sign, I could
have stopped him.

I learned to drive an 18 wheeler in my days of adventure. Wouldn't you
know I misjudged the height of a bridge. The truck got stuck and I couldn't
get it out no matter how I tried. I radioed in for help and eventually a
local cop shows up to take the report. He went through his basic questioning..ok..no problem. I thought for sure he was clear of needing a
sign......until he asked "So..is your truck stuck?" I couldn't help myself! I looked at him, looked back at the rig and then back to him and said ........."no I'm delivering a bridge...here's your sign."

I stayed late at work one night and a co-worker looked at me and said
"Are you still here?" I replied, "No. I left about 10 minutes ago. Here's
your sign."

Anybody you know need a sign today?

Yesterday I missed a day of posting. Nothing from me. Also yesterday I hit 110 visits. This is an all time high for me. Saturday and Sunday I have several posts and had half the traffic.

So I came to the conclusion if I have nothing to say it's a remarkable day and people drop by to enjoy the silence. Good thing I'm a strong, healthy and independent woman, because this could scar me for life.

Posting will be light today I have an appointment with my therapist.

I can not get this article out of my mind today, so I might as well post about it. I don't know why I was stunned to hear about GI's committing suicide, but I was. I guess if someone were to have a reason to contemplate suicide being in the middle of a war would make one despondent enough. Never knowing when your enemies will strike. Loved ones so far away and separated from all you know. Literal hell on earth.

I'm not sure if there is a worse feeling on this earth then to realize another human being is so sad and feeling life is so hopeless that suicide is their only option. I hate to see that kind of pain in someone's eyes, and I pray that I never miss it. Then I pray for the right words. I pray for our soldiers.

Mala of The Wrong Side of Happiness posted about sleep eating. She referenced an article from a ABC affiliate. Interesting stuff.

My step-father did this every night. Cookies and milk. He and my Mom were probably married 2 years before we happen to stumble upon the fact that David didn't realize he did this. David never believed he did it.

I would come home from a date or whatever and David would be standing by the kitchen counter dunking cookies in milk. He'd eat 2 to 4 cookies, down the milk and head back to bed. Whole procedure, maybe 3-5 minutes. He would talk if you asked him a question, but short replies.

It became sort of a joke after awhile, and we would attempt to wake David up, but he would always insist he was awake and look at you funny. No amount of coaxing could stop him from going back to bed after those few minutes. The few times there were no cookies in the house, David would grab a box of cereal and eat a couple of handfuls right out of the box. Weird, but something we all thought was normal for Dave. Well everybody but Dave.

I've remained relatively silent about Hugo Selenski and the ongoing comments that continue. For some family, friends and some wannabe friends the debating continues. Things became a little hostile then cooled off some. Please continue in that cooled off vein, but let's get the main rule down now: Anyone who threatens will be banned immediately. Play nice, or don't play. No running with scissors..got it?

Now for some of the most recent developments:

Patrick Russin (above) pleaded guilty earlier this month to two counts of third-degree murder, robbery, abuse of a corpse and a single count of criminal conspiracy to commit robbery. Wheeling and dealing was done to ensure his testimony against his good pal Hugo. Ahhh, the bonds of friendship in the drug world....shocking isn't it? Not.

For my two cents on the whole thing, in America one is innocent until proven guilty. But since this is America each and everyone of us can voice our opinions and if anyone of us wants to go ahead and voice that Hugo is guilty as hell, we can do that.

Lets face the facts here, bodies were found in his yard. He has his good friend testifying against him. A credible witness? Hell no, but Hugo's a convicted felon himself. Why would anyone believe him when he says he's not guilty. It's not like the guy got out of prison set on a mission to clean his act up. At least once a week there is an article in the paper where one of his friends, ex's etc. committed some crime or other. You are known by the company you keep. No matter how much you protest. No matter how much it isn't right to judge, this is America, we judge the shit out of everything. Just because we can.

Now to the gal that's writing Hugo, if you are a friend, I can understand writing to him and giving your support. Now if any of you are a wannabe friend to Hugo, writing him in jail is just plain ass sick. Writing to people in prison you don't know is sick. Get therapy. It's not normal, you can not rationalize it away. It's sick. Even if Hugo is not guilty of murder he's still a convicted felon and a drug dealer, not a pillar of society. Get it? It's sick.

To Hugo's family that reads this blog, you do have my sympathy. You can not pick your family, control them or fix things for them. If it was my brother I'd be confused and angry at the world a little too. Be strong for each other. Peace.

Remember how I asked Susan to share my blog with me? Well we haven't seen much of her, that's for sure. But in Susan's defense she's going through a rough time right now. Not only a new title and job description at work, but she's in the process of moving.

I had a chat online with her Friday night and I'll let her explain some of her current emotional distress, of course the screennames have been changed to protect the guilty:

Susan: i can't believe how many fucking pairs of shoes i have, i'm gonna need 4 boxes for them alone
Dawn: only 4? what did you give some away?
Susan: i have a trash bag full that i'm tossing, and a box i'm giving to goodwill
Dawn: lol...that is so sad
Susan: it is, but i don't have the room, they're on their own
Dawn: is the house bigger you are moving too?
Susan: it's about the same size, but there's less closet space there
Dawn: sucks to be you then...no more shoes
Susan: don't talk like that, it makes my ears bleed
Dawn: lol

Well there you have it. Emotional distress. Susan is PA's own Amelda Marcos and she must part with some of her shoe collection. I do feel for Chris and talking with him this morning he's already plotting an addition to the house to accomodate the lack of closet space. Chris is a wise man and knows he needs to placate Susan, therefore the promise of an addition.

So if anyone hears any rumblings from the PA area, be calm it's only Susan. I've already heard rumors of cattle and dogs exhibiting strange behavior in her neck of the woods. I already told her I'd come visit after the holidays and take her shoe shopping, in the meantime I sent her several online shoe sites. I think we are all safe. For now.

I decided I was going to go home for Thanksgiving last month and looked at the price of tickets. $129 for a round trip in to Omaha a week before Halloween. I didn't buy it then. Stupid me.

Northwest Airlines has their main hub at Detroit Metro and the only airline to have a direct flight to Omaha. November 1, I decided to buy the ticket finally and guess what $585 and up. Oh hell no, I'm not buying that. So I told my daughter screw it, I'm staying home or going someplace a hell of a lot more exotic then Iowa for that kind of money.

Well the next week the price was down to $398. Still no way, but I continued to watch the prices daily. They've fluctuated all over the place for the same flight anywhere from $500 to $225 yesterday. I grabbed that price yesterday morning at 5am. Good thing I did, within a few hours it went back up to $398.

What's up with that? Anyway, I'll be going home to stuff myself full of turkey for Thanksgiving. I fly out Thanksgiving morning, a 1 hour and 45 minute flight. Probably 4 hours of delays. I hope nobody else is stupid enough to fly on the holiday but what's the chances?

If anyone is interesting in chatting with DinerBitch and myself we are in AOL room DinerBitch. AIM also.

Tiger has come upon a wonderful idea in the Blogotarian Awards. To quote him:

I am hereby creating and awarding the Tiger Blogotarian Award. This award is presented to those who go out of their way to assist their fellow bloggers.

You can find the winners here.

One of my very favorite blogs Dean's World is one of the recipients. Dean and Rosemary are always interesting, stimulating and sassy. Dean, I want to say assisted me in the great jihad off of blogspot, but actually he did it all.

I had the honor of being invited to the Esmay home last summer for Dean's birthday party. They are wonderful people. Check them out if you by chance haven't already, hard to believe someone hasn't. If you do you'll be like me and check a couple of times a day to see whats up.

Just because I'm putting off doing five other things, here's this weeks Friday Five.

1. List five things you'd like to accomplish by the end of the year.

Not a big list, but clean out my walk in closet. I really can't see the end of it, I think a family of 3 might be living in there. I wonder if they mean this year?

2. List five people you've lost contact with that you'd like to hear from again.

I have a brother I have not seen since I was 13. I would like to see him again as long as he's not a serial killer, homeless or needing a loan. Other than that I can't think of anyone.

3. List five things you'd like to learn how to do.

Straighten my hair, play the stock market, skin my own site, debate something without resorting to screaming "you are a fucking idiot", and how to say "Hell No! I'm not doing that".

4. List five things you'd do if you won the lottery (no limit).
Give 30 days notice to my employer. Set up a trust fund. Buy three homes, one in Colorado, one in Iowa and one on some island. Travel for the next 365 days to places I've never been. Answer the phone again and tell the bill collectors to fuck off the check is in the mail. Heh. Hire a houseboy...but I think that's six things. Ok, so maybe the trust fund has to go.

5. List five things you do that help you relax.

Sex, drugs, and alcohol. Read, write, listen to music, take a walk, and last but not least...eat chocolate.

Andrew over at ...an error occurred has a great post on hackers. Not what the common public's concept of a hacker. No, he's not Kevin Mitnick, but I think he could be if he wanted too.

But it's true. I got out of work at 4 today. I grabbed my purse, locked my door, said goodbye. A few people looked at me strange. I laughed all the way to the car. It's actually sort of sad, but yet it makes me happy to leave when the sun is shining. I'm sure it being Friday had a hell of a lot to do with it. Sometimes I get such a kick out of the simple things in life.

On my way home tonight I seen a very bad car accident. When you see a vehicle totally mangled and crushed my stomach does this flip flop thing and I sort of cringe. I realize I feel the exact same way every time I see a picture of Michael Jackson. I've always hated clowns, they give me the willies...and so does he. I really hate the fact that looking at another human being makes me feel that way...but damn, it does.

My boss recently asked me what was the hardest part for me about my job. It didn't take me a second to respond:

"This is the first job I've ever had where instead of guiding and educating employees about the job, I am having to start with complete basics. I am having to teach my employees common courtesy and respect for others in the work place, let alone common work ethics. My hats continually switch from mother, babysitter to policeman's cap."

This has been for every job I've had since coming to Detroit. I was a director on Iowa for 12 years before coming here. I never had one abuse case. In 12 years I probably fired 5 employees. I'm sure here I average at least 10 a month. That's a conservative estimate.

I've been told repeatedly that I need to lower my expectations of employees from the Detroit area or I won't have any staff. Sometimes that statement about proved to be right. That thought has never been far from my mind, but this isn't one of the Big 3 factories, this is healthcare. I refuse to budge.

So my day is consistently filled with speaking to employees how it is unacceptable to show up to work 2 hours late, come in dressed like you just rolled out of bed, hanging down in the breakroom when you are supposed to be on the floor, talking to the boyfriend on the phone for 15 minutes with the call lights going off, not calling your co-worker a "ho" in front of patients. That's the minor stuff...I still deal with the abuse, the theft, sleeping on duty and the drugs in the back parking lot. Finally after 4 years...I'm getting the message, I can't teach morals and ethics. It's too late. Momma and Daddy did not do their job correctly.

When I read this article today I had to laugh. A New Spirit at Work-
Leaders Moving to Transform the Business World With Spiritual Values. The goal of the program:

This means redefining business to focus on people and on decisionmaking based on values — like integrity, respect, intuition, and creativity. The shift involves going beyond maximizing profits to considering all stakeholders: employees, customers, vendors, shareholders, and the community.

They might as well save their money. You can not teach integrity and respect. You can hope for an employee showing a proper action at any given point in time, conditioned reflex. Somewhat like teaching a dog to rollover on command and getting a treat. Pavlov's dog comes to mind. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what Pavlov's dog would of done if you would of put a bitch in heat in the room.

The majority of my staff now is very good. We realize now if we do our job we get rewarded, it's called a paycheck and a sense of satisfaction of doing a good job. Some will never get the concept that you actually have to work to have a job and a paycheck. Getting a paycheck is not a right for existing.

I had two different things happen today at work. This afternoon I was in a disciplinary meeting with an employee and the union steward when suddenly...and I do mean suddenly I get this stomach cramp from hell. It was bad enough I really didn't think I would be able to walk out of the room before the diarrhea hit. So with butt cheeks clamped and enlisting the aid of those kiegal muscles, I rapidly exit the room.

I decided to bypass the nurses station bathroom, the one I always use, because I know the comments that get made from the staff when some other poor soul answers natures call. I finally make it to the public bathroom, knowing only non-employees use that and it wasn't likely that rumors would be flying through the building within 30 minutes that the boss smells like a dead cow.

So as I'm sitting there all I could think of was Stephen Kings DreamCatcher and shit weasels. The whole thing was not pleasant. As I'm sitting there feeling sorry for myself and hearing people pass by and hoping they aren't hearing me, I look down...and what to my wonderous eyes should appear: a diamond. A loose diamond sitting there sparkling in the florescent lights. Wow.

Anyone that knows me, knows I have this thang for diamonds. Of course I grabbed the diamond at the first available opportunity. It looked like approximately a quarter carat. Fate. Who would of thought I'd leave that bathroom smiling. Well I made it to the nurses station and one of my managers seen my tight walkrun to the bathroom was waiting to ask me if I was ok...she told me I looked a little pale. Heh. Well as I am explaining about the stomach cramps leading up to the diamond a second major stomach cramp hits. Worse than the first. Well I tell her to take the damn diamond, I have to GO. She laughs and says thanks....and I hear her laughing as I close the door saying "I'll go get you some Immodium for this."

I think I should get the diamond back, since I wasn't quite in my right....mind or something. That really wasn't quite a fair trade.

Due to the light rain this morning, every major expressway was jammed up, so I took the longgg way to work this morning. At one particular stretch of road which is 4 lanes I had some asshole following me close enough I could see the pimple on his nose in my rearview mirror.

This guy followed me for 3 to 4 miles at about 50mph in a 40 mph zone. The norm for Michigan. Well this guy would make a big production of stopping everytime I had to put on my brakes...such as red lights etc. He'd swerve over in an attempt not to crash into me. Well at some point it became a game and I'd have to slam on my breaks just to see the show. The asswipe would never just get in the other lane.

Well at some point I obviously became boring because he decided at that time to change lanes and breeze by me. He must of been caught up in the game because he blew the stop sign that I was legitimately stopping for. Heh.

There was a cop sitting there. Damn I just love it. I honked and waived to him and the police officer as I went by. For some reason it still makes my day. I really would of liked to hear that story he told the officer about the crazy bitch he was trying to avoid. Still makes me laugh outloud.

I have a sister who is 29 and lives in Iowa. I love my sister to death, but she's just a bit odd. Well she's a social worker, need I say more? I haven't talked to her since the summer, I really don't know why except time passes. About every two months I'll get an email from her. It never says anything personal, how are ya, or anything like that. In the past it used to be a joke, or a funny story. But the last two emails are what I always call conscience ticklers. This is the one I received today. I wonder what she's trying to tell me and even more important what ever in the hell did I do? She's probably just jacking with me...the next one will probably be something about paranoia.

A wise elderly Cherokee man was teaching his grandchildren about life. He said to them, "A fight is going on inside of me; it is a terrible fight, and it is between two wolves.

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

Bible Belt looks like a good place to live, doesn't it?

Well life was a little tough today at the Not OK Corral. Actually it started yesterday morning, damn early, with a call from work saying a patient was complaining of arm pain and "a man twisted her arm" and she was wondering what to do. So after recharging the nurses brain cells and setting her straight on the path to enlightenment, the patient was dispatched promptly off to the hospital.

This is when I change my nurses cap into a cop cap and begin an investigation. So after several phone interviews with certain likely and unlikely suspects, I get a grip on what happened. A certain employee was suspended "pending an investigation".

Well sure enough the arm was fractured. Now by law I'm required to investigate and determine if there was "intent to harm" by employee against said patient. If I feel there was intent after my investigation is complete, I am required by law to report this.

Now as I've said on too damn many occasions prior to this, if I "think" there was "intent" and I report it, my facility is automatically given a federal defiency tag, level G. Of course none of you probably realize this is serious shit. Then of course I have to do a plan of correction where I have to ensure this does not happen again. Which I've done that before. Did it happen again? I'm not sure yet. The employee in question has dodged my phone calls all day. This is not a good thing.

So if and when I report this to the state, a state surveyor comes in, reviews my investigation. If they agree with my investigation it will be forwarded on to the attorney general. Then the attorney general comes in, reviews my investigation and decides if they are going to pursue charges.

Now is this fucked up or what? First, if I was not an honest person, I wouldn't report it if I did discover intent. I am honest and always do report. So I report it, I go through 6 degrees of hell with federal red tape for weeks on end, not to mention the attorney general, police, and last but not least the fucking union. All because one person might have done a bad thing.

The thing that really gets me, no one ever does another investigation other than mine. No one. No matter what way I decide I might be wrong.

This leaves me as cop, judge and jury. I don't like being in this spot. It's just a little too heavy. In the mean time one of my babies has a broken arm, and I am responsible for every hair on that head. The whole thing sickens me.

I went shopping to the mall yesterday with a friend. It was rainy and cold here and the malls were packed. Disgusting, but I really needed some new bras. Glad I shared that? Well I still need bras, but I do have new sweaters, a robe, shoes, perfume, CD's and books now. Yeah, for me. The Christmas shopping season has officially opened for me online now. I swear I'm not going back in a mall for 2 months.

One of the CD's I bought was Joss Stone. I flipped this CD into the player as soon as we got back in the car. I first read about Joss Stone on Dean Esmay's site. Now I have been following Dean's music tastes and reviews for a few months now, and I know Dean has got great taste in music. Check out his review.

My friend hadn't heard of Joss Stone before yesterday, when I told her this was a 16 year old girl she couldn't believe it. Her comment was "Damn, she's able to sing like that and she hasn't even experienced life yet!"

No she hasn't. I would imagine by the time she has everyone will know who Joss Stone is.

It's well worth the ten bucks. Would I Dean steer you wrong?

I think the Site Meter God dropped by and threw me a crumb. No, not Glenn.

The visitation to my site has been off the hook for me lately. Miracles do occur. A month ago I figured I had pretty much topped my daily traffic at an average of 40-45 hits per day. Well this month things have been looking better. I have no clue why, at first I thought maybe it was all the Hugoists wanting to voice their opinions, but they've backed off. I know I'm not doing anything different. If anything I'm posting less and reading more.

Now that's a thought, maybe if I post less, more people will drop by because they can get out of here quicker? I'll have to think about that for awhile.

I can't remember a time when WD-40 wasn't around. It was always one of those mysterious things I thought used to breed in my ex's garage, it seemed there was always a dozen cans sitting around. The power to keep the supply intact has been turned over to my sons. The last time I took my youngest shopping it was on the top of his must get list, even above the "needed" CD's.

I never had a big use for WD-40 except for at work. It works wonders on squeaky wheelchairs.

Well when I ran across this article yesterday I thought the secret would be revealed.

Not quite, but I did find out how it got it's name:

The American household staple originated as a space-age product. In 1953, three technicians at what was then known as San Diego Rocket Chemical Co. tried to create a rust-preventive solvent and degreaser to protect missile parts from corrosion in the damp seaside air. It took them 40 attempts to get it right, but they finally found a formula that worked. And, WD-40 was born.

Of course WD-40 has it's own website and fan club where all 2000 uses can be found. Now that's an interesting read. Hmm...it cleans diamonds and handcuffs. Now who would of thought?

Something is not quite right here.

You represent... naivete.
So innocent and trusting... you can be very shy at
times, but it's only because you're not sure
how to act. You give off that "I need to
be protected vibe." Remember that not all
people are good. Being too trusting will get
you easily hurt.


What feeling do you represent?
brought to you by Quizilla

Curtsey to Mr. Jay Solo for finding this one.

Feministe has an excellent post on "Censorship and Rape Pornography" that actually covers many aspects. Enough that you will probably find yourself reading it more than once. She delves into some subjects almost everyone has an opinion on. A truly interesting, excellent post.

When I looked at this site and seen the metamorphosis of Michael Jackson's face it's painful and creepy. Not only is it scarey someone would do that to their face but what ever sadistic monster that performed those surgeries needs put out of our misery. For the good of mankind.

It's one of those other things beyond comprehension. Why would anyone with that much talent and money mutilate themselves? There is no doubt about it Michael will go down in history as one of the most bizarre humans in the history of mankind.

When I read this article about John Travolta and Jumbolair I'm actually speechless.

I read it with my mouth hanging open like a kid in a chocolate factory, or better yet a hick in the city. I spent a few minutes trying to even conjure up a daydream of what it would be like to live at Jumbolair and have that kind of a lifestyle. I must admit nothing comes. It's just far beyond my own lofty dreams and realm of comprehension. I guess John doesn't have to worry about if he needs new tires before the snow hits.

Curtsey to Adam Curry for providing the link.

In my recent post on Bootlegging, Chelle brought back some memories of a few of the extra perks of being a hick from out in the boondocks. Making love under the stars for one thing.

Country folk are a little different, and a little more free. When the closest neighbor could be two miles away and at any given point you could be surrounded by wide open fields or woods sometimes you feel like you and the one you are with are the only people in the world. If the desire hits you can act on it immediately.

Making love with nature surrounding you is incredible. As Chelle states "how about some nostalgia for a clover field in bloom on a hot, august star-lit night?". Chelle knows, she's from Iowa. I'll about bet most country men and women from Iowa have even done it in the snow. Heh. Even more than once.

When you are from the country any place is fair game. Now you know why all those country men really want those tough Ford trucks. They can and do go anywhere under the stars. Not that you don't stop and do it on the road there.

Charles from Dustbury says his children claim Iowa stands for "Idiots out walking around". Now you know what we are up to when we are out walking around especially with a smile on our face.

When I was in high school and college one my favorite past times and that of my friends was throwing a party. Well in Iowa you never needed a house to have a party you only needed a field. It was common practice to pool our money and con someone into buying a keg. The more beer, the bigger the party. One of those laws of nature.

When I was a sophmore I had a friend named Patty who had an older brother Gary. Who became our main man. Not only did he get the beer but he usually picked some damn fine fields. Patty would organize the group to seek charitable donations for the upcoming kegger, which we would proudly hand over to Gary. Now that I think of it Gary was more like a pimp, he definitely made more than he returned.

Well Gary's little enterprise grew to the point he no longer needed us to bring home the money, he'd just find a field and charge admission. Smart guy. Teens from 3 counties and 2 states would show up.

Well all good things always come to an end, we got raided. Poor Gary was charged with bootlegging. Minor in posession charges were not the thing back then so only poor Gary suffered.

Well in my hometown paper I've been following a story where a teenager died after a similar party. One teenager collected the money for the liquor, although he didn't purchase it. He's been charged with 26 counts of bootlegging.

Well in the paper today it states Iowa's code for bootlegging:

According to Iowa Code 123.59, bootlegging is defined as: "Any person who, acting individually, or through another acting for the person, keeps or carries on the person, or in a vehicle, or leaves in a place for another to secure, any alcoholic liquor, wine, or beer, with intent to sell or dispense the liquor, wine, or beer, by gift or otherwise in violation of law, or who, within this state, in any manner, directly or indirectly, solicits, takes, or accepts an order for the purchase, sale, shipment, or delivery of alcoholic liquor, wine, or beer in violation of law, or aids in the delivery and distribution of alcoholic liquor, wine, or beer so ordered or shipped, or who in any manner procures for, sells, or gives alcoholic liquor, wine, or beer to a person under legal age, for any purpose except as authorized and permitted in this chapter, is a bootlegger and subject to the general penalties provided by (Iowa code)."

Now damn. If I would of known that law, I'm sure I still would of done it anyway.
Now that's one long sentence.

I'm so glad tomorrow is Friday I could pee my pants. This week is flying by. It's a little chilleeee in the apartment tonight..since I forgot to call and tell them my furnace won't turn on. I must remember to do that tomorrow. For now it's time to curl up with a book deep under a warm comforter. Trust me, I'd rather have a flesh and blood one, if you know what I mean.

So far this has been a good one and a fairly fast read:

At least one I don't have to sleep with the lights on. Unless it warms up the room of course.

Ok it might be tough to follow this question because I know not what I talk about. For about the last month, as some of you can attest too, everytime I link someone and ping them back, it does it twice if not more on their blog. I'm sure that's probably annoying for them, so I've cut down my links to others trying to figure it out. Now that's the laughable part.

Actually my figuring it out entails saying "damn, I need to do something about that." Then promptly forgetting about it til the next time I want to link a post. Ok...so now I'm being pro-active and doing something about it. Help??

Yesterday Geoffrey pointed out a new to me blog: Dare My Wild Heart. Chelle blogs freely about herself, life and her alternate lifestyle which makes a very good read. Damn, and she loves Dennis Miller!

Not only that, but the best thing, she's originally from Iowa. Need I say more? You can definitely now find her on my blogroll. Check her out!

I choked on my ice water reading this post by Messygurl. She's right, whore fingers are disgusting. I usually go with light colored polish anymore because the disinfectant soaps at work wreak havoc on polish. Every now and then I just have to do red. Red is me. But red wears off the tips faster than any other polish, I swear. Even though I start the day looking ok, I come home with whore fingers. Gross.

Another thing I find disgusting is fake nails. I can not understand how anyone can go through one day with acrylic things glued to their fingers. No it does not look natural, it looks like fake nails. Then, when one of those things fall off...well, I have no words for it. I'll have to ask Messygurl what is lower down the totem pole then whore fingers.

In my corporate meeting today we seen a short motivational film from the concept taken from the book, Fish Tales. It's a 17 minute little fun film of guys in a fish market in Seattle who have a roaring good time on the job. Well, at least in the film.

These guys play with the dead fish, throw it, play catch, make dead fish dance etc. for their own entertainment and for the amusement of customers and those passing by. Potential future customers. They yell, they jump, play and frolic amidst dead sea creatures. Hell at the end of the video I wanted to play with dead fish.

Well the concept of the whole film of course is to have fun on your job. Try to employ these simple concepts to your workplace. So I tried to picture my employees in the fish market. In a matter of 30 seconds I could envision dead clients beat to death by flying fish, half the dead creatures in the back of a relatives van, and the ones not participating in the now riot sitting watching TV complaining they might break a nail.

I don't think the film was supposed to take me there. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't think so.

Anyway at the first coffee break I told my boss about my daydream and that I would be leaving soon. I want to work with dead fish. She agreed, even if it might stink and we could break a nail. Somethings are just worth the price.

What is up with America and some American's that have to make even the smallest things into something abnormal, neurotic and yes even an addiction. When I read this article in the Free Press this morning I literally laughed out loud.

Untold numbers of people suffer from what author and educator Judith Wright calls soft addictions. While not life-threatening like drug or alcohol addictions, soft addictions rob people of the time, money, energy and drive to live more fulfilling lives. Take note of Wright's most common soft addictions because they might just apply to you. Besides shopping, they include watching television, surfing the Internet, checking the Weather Channel, gossiping, procrastinating, talking on the phone and even seemingly productive pursuits like working and exercising.

I think she left out reading. Damn I'm a mess. Ok, now if I can overcome my soft addictions what would I do? Hard addictions seem to be out for me now too...what good is drugs and alcohol if you haven't had sex in 3 months, thats just a waste of a good buzz. I think I can legally be classified as a celebate addict now.

I guess if I quit work, walking, answering the phone, eating, unplugged the computer and the TV, pulled the drapes...I'd be healthier. Heh.

Where do people come up with this shit?

Well today is the monthly corporate meeting day. The day where my company brings in other administrators, directors of nursing and corporate yahoo's from three other states. That's right, brings them in from the east coast, rents out rooms in the Marriott and we listen for 5 hours or so how to save a buck.

Makes illogical sense to me.

Today, I was recruited into helping out the Complaints and Grievances Department at work.
I was told I would be handling all incoming complaints. Woo hoo, I get to talk to pissed off people.

I wish I could tell you that I worked in retail and the complaints received were going to be about malfunctioning toasters. (Perhaps like the one Dawn had when I almost burned her house down.) No, no, no, unfortunately for me, that is not the case. I work in managed care. Better yet, non-profit managed care for behavioral health services for the Medical Assistance population. In other words, most of the complaints I’ll receive will be from the reality impaired, aka delusional people. With this, I have no problem, I relate well with them. My problem lies with the fucking bureaucratic bullshit that I’m going to encounter along the way.

Don’t get me wrong, yes, I am venting, but I chose this field for a reason and I am passionate about ensuring the quality of health care services to those with mental illness. However, we have oversight out the wazoo and the reporting is a nightmare. I can’t begin to relay the caliber of assholes I’ll be reporting to. I’m talking State officials. You know of whom I refer to, the ones that started as mail clerk and 40 billzillion years of tenure is rewarded with a title and an ego as big as Baltimore. Oh yea, this is going to be fun.

We recently experienced budget cuts and can’t replace the previous employee who ran screaming from the building. So, here I am, Director of Bitch.

I really must remove that flashing neon “Sucker” sign off of my forehead.

For all the men and women who are and have served in our armed forces:

I thank you. You are the true heroes.

Official recognition of the end of the first modern global conflict -- World War I - - was made in a concurrent resolution (44 Stat. 1982) enacted by Congress on June 4, 1926, with these words:

WHEREAS the 11th of November 1918, marked the cessation of the most

appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.

The history of Veteran's Day.

Well tonight is 24 night. Woo hoo. Not only do I get to stare at Kiefer Sutherland but I get to watch Dennis Haysbert be the President. Oh hell yes, I'd vote for him. He could even be a liberal, how could I hold that against him?

So I'm cruising around on Fox's 24 Website and guess what? They even have a blog, I'm sure you are surprised.

Doesn't it just figure I I finally have a post where I'm getting a ton of comments (for me) and they think it's an open forum. I thought I'd better let them know before I have the whole damn town putting in their two cents worth. I wonder if Dean Esmay ever feels ignored like this? Heh.

I left work early for me today, at 5. I was pissed off beyond measure...now I'm in the "fuck it" mode. It's not worth it. Last week I received an email from my corporate HR person after she had left the building that day for union grievance meetings.

The basis of the email was requesting more information on a termination I had done that she forgot to gather herself while she was there. At the bottom of the email she politely informed me that I had 75% more union grievance terminations then any other building, and I had filled my quota. I brushed it off. I figured if she didn't have the "balls" to tell me in person fuck it.

Over the weekend a nursing assistant was suspended by the supervisor for not giving care to her patients. Falsifying patient records that she had showered them and also had been found sitting in a room on her cell phone. According to THE company rule books this is negligence and of course falsifying legal records. Both grounds for termination.

Well I emailed my corporate HR person with the info and what I was going to do, fire her ass and she sent me back an email basically saying she was not happy with my decision. She asked if she had anything else in her file.

This person was a transfer in from another facility a year ago. I know I have given her 4 disciplinary actions in the past year myself. So going through her file, which consisted of the previous facilities disciplinary actions I find that she had been terminated there two weeks before "transferring" to my facility.

So their stupid ass HR person processed a transfer with references on a terminated employee. Hello.

Now my pissed off meter blew a gasket. So I fired off an email to the HR corporate yahoo and told her I was highly upset because if her department had been doing their jobs I wouldn't be in this spot of being damned if I do and damned if I don't.

Within minutes I received an email response from her with two words in it: Do it. Yeah..fucking right I'll do it.

Don't you just hate it when someone tells you how to do your job, when they can't even get their own down? Dipshits.

Ahh...one other thing, 20% of my yearly bonus is based on low turnover rate. Guess that just sucks for me..don't it? Now I can be a little slow on the get go here....but doesn't seem to you I can be highly rewarded for not doing my job? Assholes.

I'm done now.

Well there still seems to be some interesting comments taking place on my blog, here regarding Hugo. Now it seems I have a family member and a ex-girlfriend of Hugo's chatting.

It seems the ex-girlfriend, the one I chatted with has this to say in the whole process that I found interesting:

Unfortunately, he will most likely not be able to get himself out of this one by his good looks and charming personality!

I can't imagine what it would be like being a family member of someone accused of murder, guilty or not. The pain and the helplessness felt one can only imagine. The family member left quite a response but this paragraph says alot:

I am going to say one thing for starters - we are supposed to be Innocent Until PROVEN Guilty! He did have a very hard life, and with that hard life came anger and stupidity, but not a killer! He is my brother, and I can tell you this for sure: I think it takes a certain type of person to kill, and Hugo is NOT that type of a person. He always tried so hard to please everyone.

I'm sure trolls can have fun with something like this, but reading these peoples comments I'm really getting the impression they know this guy.

If this keeps up I might have to make a whole category for ol' Hugo. Heck, why not?

Erica posted yesterday in my comments that she has made some good friends from online, and I have to agree with her, I have too. I started on AOL in 1995 and over the years have met some wonderful people, had a few dates and all have been good experiences. I rarely go to a chat room anymore unless I'm extremely bored, out of something to read, write...or can't sleep.

Saturday about 6:30pm I decided to visit a chat room, so I look through the listings and see Michigan over 40, ok, maybe some sane chat going on. After a little over 30 minutes in this room, I had 4 letters of introduction, 3 phone numbers and easily 10 IM's.

The majority of these were from men under 40 who "like older women". I had one 22 year old male tell me he "could give me the thrill of my life". I told him he was too young to even know how let alone learn how to give me the thrill of my life, it takes years of practice to perfect. His response "teach me". Oh lord.

I have nothing in my profile to attract this attention, only 3 words. My name, my location and a one word quote "Karma" . That's it. So I can only imagine what the women are getting who are advertising their wares in a comprehensive profile are getting. Who knows, maybe it's exactly what they want.

Now I was invited to Bumpers a local club, dinner, a movie, to a park to watch the eclipse and from one more skeptical male..a cup of coffee.

Of course the majority all made it clear that gratuituous sex was available without preliminaries if I so choosed. The funny part was I asked 3 of them if they ever got lucky with this approach. All said no, but they keep on trying. Never could get them to comprehend maybe that's why they are sitting home alone on a Saturday night too.

Thank you for the lovely introduction darlin, you're much too kind. As for the directions on how to post, I hope writing on the fourth grade level wasn't too much of a stretch for you.

The part explaining how we met was rather sketchy though. I do believe you left out some intersting details that still bring a smile to my face. Especially that 1800 mile drive from the east to the midwest. How could one forget driving on the wrong side of a highway in Ohio at 2:00 a.m. on a rainy night.

For all of your friends following your blog, if I may made a suggestion, do not allow this women to drive you anywhere. I am an adrenaline junky and don't scare easily, however, to this day, I have scars in the palms of my hands where my fingernails were imbedded after letting her drive my car.

Alas, the time for the only television show I watch grows near. HBO's Carnevale. It's about weird people who don't fit well into society. I have no idea why I'm drawn to it.

Tiger is proposing a new alliance to quote:

I am bringin' out an idea I had several years ago to create a society for those people who take responsibility for their lives, actions, and decisions, as wells as attempt to teach others to do likewise.

He even has a logo. I'm waiting for a response to a serious question before I join. All in all...I'm not sure I'll qualify.

I've asked my friend Susan to join me on this blog. It's only natural that when I think of the words "altered perceptions" that Susan comes to mind. Introducing Susan and how we met is not easy, but I'll share the condensed version.

I met Susan online possibly about 1996 online on AOL. Both of us were going through some rather drastic changes in our lives and we began talking. I was in Iowa, Susan in PA. About a year after meeting online due to some bizarre circumstances we actually met face to face. We even shared a house for a short time.

Friendships and bonds are formed in unusual ways and even in this day and age I still believe that friendships formed online are becoming more common, but still not considered the norm.

Susan and I have never lost contact over the years. She's flown to see me, I've flown to see her. We talk online not as frequently as both of us would like, but when we do talk it's just a matter of beginning where we left off. Anyway, Susan is the best friend I've ever had. I know if I needed her she'd be here..and vice versa.

Susan still lives in PA, and it is her turn to visit me. Hint, hint. She found a great man a few years ago, Chris, who is wonderful. I'm highly jealous because this guy is wonderful. Way too good for her and to her.

So about Susan she's witty, intelligent, beautiful, a bitch, a smartass and a self proclaimed witch. She's way too bossy, crabby, and sometimes whines. Sound familiar? She has a bizarre perception of the world and people one that I can very much relate too.

So anyway, I have to send her a very detailed email now on how to post. If she fucks up my templates, I'll probably have to kill her.

Can you imagine the aroma in the air? Nothing like a weenie and marshmellow roast on cold night with a full moon. I think this was a little out of control though:

URBANA, Iowa -- A semi hauling 44,000 pounds of Oscar Mayer hot dogs caught fire late Tuesday night on Interstate 380 near Urbana, which is between Cedar Rapids and Waterloo. The northbound lane was shut down and Linn County's hazmat team was called out to contain diesel fuel which powered the refrigeration unit on the truck. Hazmat chief Tom Ulrich said the driver told officials that it sounded like something broke. Part of the steel frame then caught a wheel on fire, and flames engulfed the rig. The Iowa State Patrol, which is investigating the accident, said the driver's name wasn't immediately available.

I wonder if they were plumpers? Somewhere there is going to be a shortage of weenies.

Ok, the sun is gone, the moon turned red and my fingers are blue. It's 29 degrees out and my furnace won't work. This is not a good thing.

It's a gorgeous day outside. The kind I love. Thirty-one degrees, sun shining brightly and not a cloud in the sky. Too cold for most but I can take any amount of cold if the sun is shining.

If I was home in Iowa I'd be seeing the pheasant hunters off in the fields, driving down the roads scouting out the tree lines. The last of the fields being harvested. The teenagers heading to the city to shop, go to a movie, a restaurant or whatever. Everyone waves as they travel by. The day beautiful, nature beautful, life beautiful.

Detroit is always bustling and loud. Always sirens, always planes. Car alarms, people yelling, doors slamming, cars motoring. There is never silence, the air is never clean and crisp. How the simple thing of going for a walk is not really simple and you never feel safe. Sometimes I wonder if these people know how the other half lives.

What it feels like to stand in the middle of a field with nothing around for miles but the sound of your footsteps and the birds. What it feels like to be in the middle of dense woods and see where a buck has scraped his antlers on a tree. Or where a doe has lain for the night. To have a pheasant fly out of bush and scare the shit out of you. To watch where you step because there might be a snake or even better an Indian arrowhead. To walk along a stream and see how a busy a beaver was all summer. To sit quietly in the woods and wait to hear those foot steps of a deer.

Damn I'm homesick again.

"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of humiliation." Fox Mulder

I'm not sure why I like this one, or maybe I do. Anyway...one of my favorites.

schizoid


Which Personality Disorder Do You Have?
brought to you by Quizilla

Compliments to that obsessive compulsive Kelley.

Being home today and bored I started looking at my hits from different searches on awstats. In the past 2-3 weeks I've received well over 100 hits for searches on Hugo Selenski. Why? What's the big deal about Hugo?

I posted, twice on him in the past few weeks. One making light of the jail escape, the second making light of people hitting my site looking for his picture:

So I decided to dig a little deeper on what is so fascinating and what people are looking for.

Hugo Selenski an ex-convict who was released from a federal prison in 2001 for robbery after serving 7 years. In early June remains of five victims were found in Selenski's property in shallow graves in Kingston Township which is about 110 miles north of Philadelphia.

A pharmacist Michael Kerkowski and his girlfriend Tammy Fassett were two of the victims found. You can find some of Kerkowski's background story here.

Paul Weakly who spent 10 years in jail on bomb-possession charges before his release last year, was facing a string of burglary, theft and federal gun charges, had allegedly flunked a series of drug tests required as a condition of his probation when he began offering information about Selenski. Some of the information was credible which led to the discovery of the bodies, but parts of it haven't been verified and doesn't even seem likely.

Mixed up in all of this is Patrick Russin, a longtime friend of Selenski’s who police said confessed to being present when the pair shot and killed a pair of alleged drug dealers, Frank James, 29, and Adeiye Keiler, 22, last May. You can read some of the story here.

So in my quest to find out "What the Big Deal is about Hugo Selenski" I emailed one of the commentors from one of the previous posts. She wrote me back. Her response:

I am from the Wilkes-Barre area and have known Hugo for over 15 years! I am extremely surprised by the number of comments people make regarding him. Some women around the country want to meet him because he's cute. Did they forget he is an alleged murderer? Also the comment on your website (which I know does not reflect your opinion) said he is a normal guy who is doing us a favor by killing drug dealers. I can't help but laugh at these people who must be in a very warped place in their lives. People are intrigued because there are so many people and twists involved that it's interesting, I guess! Some guy in South Carolina actually started a website www.hugoselenski.com. He doesn't even know anyone from this area. It's a little weird, don't you think?

Yeah, I think it's a little weird. I think it's just a little weird that I'm getting all these hits on my site about him.

So again, if you found this post by doing a search on Hugo, what's the big deal?

Well once again it's Friday and I'm bored. So here's the Friday Five.

1. What food do you like that most people hate?

I have to say spinach. Spinach is great with a little olive oil, salt and garlic. A hunk of bread...and it's a great meal.

2. What food do you hate that most people love?

Seafood. Can't stand the smell, the taste or the appearance.

3. What famous person, whom many people may find attractive, is most unappealing to you?

There are two actually I can't stand. First, although I have to admit he's in some great movies is Tom Hanks. For some reason I can't stand to look at this guy. The other guy is Jim Carrey...I just won't watch him.

4. What famous person, whom many people may find unappealing, do you find attractive?

I can think of several: Billy Bob Thorton, Tommy Lee Jones, John Candy, Michael Clark Duncan and yes Danny DeVito and my favorite of all time Yul Brynner.

5. What popular trend baffles you?

I quit understanding trends when disco hit. I learned at that time there was no accounting for taste that leads to certain trends. Trying to understand it was such a waste of good head space.

..well I seem to have the dizziness conquered. If I don't look down, I don't get dizzy. Funny how that works.

I'm voting for Patriot Paradox in The Truth Laid Bear's New Weblog Showcase.

You'll find some excellent posts in this weeks showcase.

Dax Montana is living proof with a story to boot why raising boys is some really scarey shit.

I remember one day coming home from work early my 12 year old son who I thought was responsible was in the process of "testing" out two ramps he had built with plywood, tin and hay to "jump" the riding lawn mower. I could post all day long on his shenanigans...but it makes my hands sweaty and then my eye starts twitching, so I'm not going to go there.

Someday I'll run across the picture of when he was 3 and had been out "riding the sows". These sows were about 600#, meaner than shit but he was "playing rodeo". Alrighty then. Trust me I played "rodeo" on his Dad, because he was the one that was supposed to be riding herd on him. I was not amused hearing "that's my boy!". Heh.

Jay Solo was playing with Google this morning to find out where he is listed in a search for "Jay". Well I decided I'd try Dawn. I can be a copycat.

I already knew there would be several Dawn's out there before you even counted Dawn dish soap or Tony Orlando's.

Well it seems I am the unlucky number 13 among some great company. Number one on the list is Pakistan's most widely circulated English language newspaper. Dawn, who would of thought?

The next Dawn is a space site. To quote:

Dawn's goal is to characterize the conditions and processes of the solar system's earliest epoch by investigating in detail two of the largest protoplanets remaining intact since their formations. Ceres and Vesta reside in the extensive zone between Mars and Jupiter together with many other smaller bodies, called the asteroid belt. Each has followed a very different evolutionary path constrained by the diversity of processes that operated during the first few million years of solar system evolution.

Interesting, but probably not a place I'm likely to hang out but probably more interesting and stimulating than my site, unless I post porn of course.

Then next Dawn site I'm sure I'll check out is Dawn - Development Alternatives with Women for a New Era. A feminist site working for "economic justice, gender justice and democracy". Alrighty then. I am a woman, I can roar.

Number five on the list is Up Yours by Dawn Olsen. Definitely entertaining and with the first post I read "What's so Wrong with being a Puss" I can see why Dawn is high on the food chain list.

Number 10 on the list is Driving wiht Dawn. Now I discovered this Dawn quite awhile ago and she's always entertaining, informative and once there, you'll keep coming back. Keep on driving girl.

Anyway I'm on the second page but highly amused that the dish soap or Tony Orlando's Dawn still hadn't shown up.

So there you have your basic "Dawn" search.

About 3 this morning I woke up from a crazy dream and a charley horse in my left calf of my leg. Excruciating. I can't remember the last time I flew out of bed that fast.

So I'm stretching by the side of the bed when I realize for whatever reason I'm dizzy as hell and have to pee. Real bad. So I take off for the bathroom and run into the wall.

Anyway peeing with the room spinning even when you have to sit down is not an easy task. Actually it works better with your eyes closed. Just an FYI. I remember thinking maybe I was having a stroke but I was too tired to care as I navigated back to bed with my eyes closed.

Anyway this morning the leg is fine, the head is fine, the coffee is fine. I halfway wonder if I dreamed all that. Maybe it was the Cheerios I ate before going to bed. Dangerous stuff.

**Update: Well my left ear is cracklin' like someone stuffed a bag of Orville Redinbacher popcorn in it and the dizziness is coming and going. I'm sitting my butt at home today probably on some Benadryl. The jury is still out on that one.

Tony was gone, but he's back. He explained why he was gone apparently in a foreign language because I have no clue what he's talking about. I'm just glad he's back. I'm really developing a thang for that silver man.

I'm speechless. But amused.

I left work at 4:30pm today and the sun was still shining at that time. Who would of thought. I bet people who only work 8 hour days see sunshine routinely. I was impressed. I thought it only shined on weekends.

I need to get out more. Of work that is.