I read so many postings on Craig'slist, long postings, some full of sorrow, about the loss of a pet. From people who had never been given the slightest lesson in how to care for the animal in the first place.
I decided to send letter to two posters tonight, not to talk about adopting their animals, but how to help them keep their pets. One poster had a rat, the rat had bit him. Out of fear I think. I will know further once he responds to my letter. The second poster does not believe he is able to properly care for his pet as it looks unhappy. Again, when he responds to my questions I will better understand what he means by 'happy' and if the young owner, is properly caring for his pet.
]]>I read so many postings on Craig'slist, long postings, some full of sorrow, about the loss of a pet. From people who had never been given the slightest lesson in how to care for the animal in the first place.
I decided to send letter to two posters tonight, not to talk about adopting their animals, but how to help them keep their pets. One poster had a rat, the rat had bit him. Out of fear I think. I will know further once he responds to my letter. The second poster does not believe he is able to properly care for his pet as it looks unhappy. Again, when he responds to my questions I will better understand what he means by 'happy' and if the young owner, is properly caring for his pet.
Others are going home for the semester, and can not take their pets with them. So instead of leaving the pet with a sitter, it get put up for adoption, or abandoned.
The colleges need to do something about the transfer of animals every year. Maybe having a dorm area pet, say a friendly dog, or cat, even a fish tank would help the students make the transitions in the dorms. And, would prevent the twice yearly animals dumping going on over at Craig's list. Other students who were not leaving for the winter break or summer session, could watch the pets of the traveling students.
Or the colleges and universities could completely ban pets on campus, unless the student has a detailed plan in place for bringing a pet into a dorm and an equally detailed one for returning the animal home.
]]>“Who are you voting for?â€
Do you like this one? Do you trust that one? Is he serious about that promise? I know politics is a blood sport here in Massachusetts. Right up there with revenge, and bitching about sports. I should be able to get up a little bit of interest, maybe not the blood boil level of my past, but something, anything? But I can't not a whiff of anger, not a hint of interest. Not over the can dates, not even to vote for the lesser of four evils.
I have read the web pages, reviewed the platforms, watched the debates. The only emotion any of them brings to mind is boredom. Is this the best Massachusetts can do. In this entire state, home of the first blow for freedom from England. The bluest of the blue states, this is the best we can do!
]]>“Who are you voting for?â€
Do you like this one? Do you trust that one? Is he serious about that promise? I know politics is a blood sport here in Massachusetts. Right up there with revenge, and bitching about sports. I should be able to get up a little bit of interest, maybe not the blood boil level of my past, but something, anything? But I can't not a whiff of anger, not a hint of interest. Not over the can dates, not even to vote for the lesser of four evils.
I have read the web pages, reviewed the platforms, watched the debates. The only emotion any of them brings to mind is boredom. Is this the best Massachusetts can do. In this entire state, home of the first blow for freedom from England. The bluest of the blue states, this is the best we can do!
My lack of excitement is growing. Not being able to get it up for the top of the ticket, I don't even know who is asking to be the lieutenant to the dullard in chief. Who supports what, who is angeling to be appointed governor when the next person bolts out of state to obtain a nation office, or the promise of one.
My lack of interest has spread. What else are we voting on, I don't know. I have not even cracked the first page of the 'sample ballot' I received in the mail today. I have not tossed it into the recycling bin yet, I hope I'll be able to read it soon. But just looking at the light blue cover makes me want to fall asleep. To dream of the days when politics meant something to me. When I happily worked the phone banks, when I would lick envelopes all day. Today I don't wish those days would return for me, but at least enough interest to vote.
I know the issues, I read both papers, peruse the web, read the blogs. But no one can spark my interest. Not the ballot questions, not the local races, not the has-beens looking for new posts, where they will mostly plan and scheme to get back their old posts. Nothing.
I'm a depressed, in general no, about the path this country is taking yes. But what will my one vote do to correct that? Will my vote matter on the national stage, not really. Will my vote matter here at home, a little, in the city maybe, but state wide, no. The small great conspiracy voice in withing says the race is going to be fixed any way. As was done the last three times, the person who owns the voting machines, will decide the winner of the election. Not me, not my vote. Not any more.
I know I should vote, I know I need to vote, I know I will vote. But not with enthuseum, not this time.
]]>I like his response to Jon when Jon asked him why if the Talaban keeps trying to kill him why he takes the same route to work every day. His response “Because I want them to know I am not afraid of them.†I do believe he is about to win over the American people. This interview will be talked about in the morning. The major news outlets, and by this I so do not count Fox, will be showing clips of this interview.
]]>I like his response to Jon when Jon asked him why if the Talaban keeps trying to kill him why he takes the same route to work every day. His response “Because I want them to know I am not afraid of them.†I do believe he is about to win over the American people. This interview will be talked about in the morning. The major news outlets, and by this I so do not count Fox, will be showing clips of this interview.
Jon has read and studied his book, he appears to be quoting sections of the book during his questions. He is looking toward the future more than I think any one in the current administration is.
When he wants to be, Jon Stewart is an amazing interviewer!
Is Comedy Central's the Daily Show growing up?
]]>I was going through all the places I go today. Each blog gets different information. In order to understand all of me, you would have to read all of them. They become a big self referential when I talk about one blog in another. So today every single blog, gets listed in one place.
Universal Hub http://www.universalhub.com/blog/374
This is the place for my deep thought, my random brain blasts. Early samples of my writing before the final draft gets sent out to the world. Ideas I can put no where else, and notes about Boston, and the inhabitants with in.
I was going through all the places I go today. Each blog gets different information. In order to understand all of me, you would have to read all of them. They become a big self referential when I talk about one blog in another. So today every single blog, gets listed in one place.
Universal Hub http://www.universalhub.com/blog/374
This is the place for my deep thought, my random brain blasts. Early samples of my writing before the final draft gets sent out to the world. Ideas I can put no where else, and notes about Boston, and the inhabitants with in.
Myspace http://www.myspace.com/fibrowitch
-Gets little more than I listing of links to where I have been published either in print or on the web. So it frequently refers to Universal Hub. Or the Boston Globe
Live Journal http://fibro-witch.livejournal.com/
-Life gets personal, if I get sick, LJ has it. If I get silly, LJ has it. When there is an upheaval in my life. I rant I rave, I jump up and down.
Blog Dada http://fibrowitch.blog.dada.net/
- Everything ends up here, my pictures, my issues, my dreams and nightmares.
Dog Boston http://www.dogboston.com/blog/
- The place I post the least, and do the most work for. I am always on the look out for dog and animal related issues to write about. I just finished a posting about adopting Byron, next up crate training. You see less of the real me here than any where else.
Then there is the now defunct
http://www.twoheadedcat.com/content/article.php?articleID=1708
Never before mentioned or even referred to is the place where I... Well you know. Or at least you will once your over 21.
]]>Byron loves the beach, he enjoys digging in the sand, barking at the seagulls, and rolling in all those smelly things the ocean specializes in throwing on to the beach. Our beach...
]]>Byron loves the beach, he enjoys digging in the sand, barking at the seagulls, and rolling in all those smelly things the ocean specializes in throwing on to the beach. Our beach...
Today's walk was in the path of a friend who had walked the beach earlier. He has a very large dog, a stately dog, who walks with measured steps. Each step he sinks into the sand, leaving a large footprint. You know he has passed this way. Byron is different.
Byron does not walk, he prances, he pops, he weaves his way through life. He leaves the tinniest of prints, his foot touches the sand so lightly, for such a short time. Does he really touch the sand, or does he fly over it? He does imprint the sand at times. When he sees a friend, or a stranger who has not had a chance to be a friend yet.
Then his stride changes, he has a goal, a target, someone might go an entire day without petting a dog, unless he can get to them. Sometimes he startles people with his brashness. He simply assumes they want to pet him and he assumes the position. He will not nudge them with his nose, or scratch with his paw. He waits for them to realize he is there, to feel the weight of his stare. And then, victory he gets the attention of a stranger.
Sigh, far to many people must think I neither feed nor pet him. He so lives for attention.
]]>When I received the letter telling me I had been charged 20 dollars for not being picked up on fast lane, my first reaction was to call fast lane, and get all 'Masshole' on them. The person I was talking to suggested it would be easier for me to send in a fax, than to discuss it with him.
What a genius! True genius. Because I sent in a fax, explaining how I did NOT know my car had not been read, and that I would like to pay for the missed toll.
]]>When I received the letter telling me I had been charged 20 dollars for not being picked up on fast lane, my first reaction was to call fast lane, and get all 'Masshole' on them. The person I was talking to suggested it would be easier for me to send in a fax, than to discuss it with him.
What a genius! True genius. Because I sent in a fax, explaining how I did NOT know my car had not been read, and that I would like to pay for the missed toll.
So I hope your sitting down, kind reader. Because...
My toll was forgiven, forgiven! I don't have to pay it. Sweet.
So keep this in mind, if you have an argument with the Massachusetts Turnpike Fast Lane program, send a fax* and request a 'Post Mark Settlement' because you will win.
* Fax number is 508-786-5211
]]>Does a two year old screaming in glee, and clapping her hands count as exercise for her? Or just for the adult who should have known better, providing the entertainment.
The back story...
I had a small party yesterday, 30 people. two people under the age of 5. I, knowing nothing about children except that if you purchase them fudge, don't be there when their Mother sees them. - I also hear that until about the age of 3 they leak, but I have no experience in this phenomena. I purchased some large balls they could throw, some bubble stuff they could make bubbles with, or dump on the floor. Option two being the most popular with the two year old. I also bought some blow up punching bags.
]]>Does a two year old screaming in glee, and clapping her hands count as exercise for her? Or just for the adult who should have known better, providing the entertainment.
The back story...
I had a small party yesterday, 30 people. two people under the age of 5. I, knowing nothing about children except that if you purchase them fudge, don't be there when their Mother sees them. - I also hear that until about the age of 3 they leak, but I have no experience in this phenomena. I purchased some large balls they could throw, some bubble stuff they could make bubbles with, or dump on the floor. Option two being the most popular with the two year old. I also bought some blow up punching bags.
Once inflated I showed each child how to 'punch' the 'bag' the four year old found the concept boring, preferring to play with the bubble stuff. The two year old was fascinated with the concept. Not in punching the bag, watching ME punch the bag. Once, twice, while talking to someone else, on my way to the restroom. I would feel a little hand on my leg, and hear a giggled 'bunch - bunch - bunch'. So I would take back the balloon with its elastic handle and bop it back and forth while she jumped up and down and squealed with glee. Until my arm started to hurt, my bladder began to protest, or some thing else at the party distracted her.
The sum total of my exercise yesterday was lifting a glass (elbow) carrying food trays (hands) and "bunching" a punching ball. This morning, my arm muscles feel as if I spent all day yesterday lifting weights. My shoulder flexors, are all flexed out.
I still have one of the punching balloons, can I borrow any one's two year old. It's not as aerobic when only the dog is watching.
]]>And they won.
So, do I stay up and watch tonight, and hope they win again? Or do I find someplace else to hide tonight? Some place where my boys are far from my thoughts. Where by not paying attention to them, they could be convinced to win?
And 'they' say, the players are idiots.
Even the Onion is confused
www.theonion.com/content/index
Call me confused.
]]>And they won.
So, do I stay up and watch tonight, and hope they win again? Or do I find someplace else to hide tonight? Some place where my boys are far from my thoughts. Where by not paying attention to them, they could be convinced to win?
And 'they' say, the players are idiots.
Even the Onion is confused
www.theonion.com/content/index
Call me confused.
]]>Dogs are not being walked, laundry is not being done. And since it is coldish out, in the mid 70's there are very few people walking to the beach. So the road is quiet. This day is cool, cool enough so that for the first time this week, all the air conditioners are just boxes in the windows. A light breeze plays with the trees, not strong enough to turn the leaves or threaten rain, but enough to rustle the grass and keep the birds and squirrels hidden away.
]]>Dogs are not being walked, laundry is not being done. And since it is coldish out, in the mid 70's there are very few people walking to the beach. So the road is quiet. This day is cool, cool enough so that for the first time this week, all the air conditioners are just boxes in the windows. A light breeze plays with the trees, not strong enough to turn the leaves or threaten rain, but enough to rustle the grass and keep the birds and squirrels hidden away.
In general, the entire house is lazy today. Byron, the dog, simply moves from sleeping spot to sleeping spot, more effort spent on getting comfortable, in following the sun. Even the Guinea Pig has decided to sleep the day away. He is all stretched out in his pen, a bit of grass in his mouth, asleep in mid chew. The birds, all four, are sweetly whispering to each other, pulling a head out from under a wing, chirping to each other, then tucking their heads back under. Happily the entire flock has been located, and they can go off guard duty. I am never sure why one bird must always stay on guard. But, they do...
A laziness has taken me as well, I should be outside mowing the lawn, or clipping back the shrubs, after all, I have a job that does not strain my body, but my brain. So my body is not in need of rest, but I've not taken a shower, my pj's are still on, and as far as I can tell, this day is going to be a wash. At best, if I ever do take that shower, I might change my nail polish.
]]>At the same time, I am watching my friends and neighbors, get bored with the Sox. People who in years past i.e. pre 2004 could not find Fenway Park on a map. Who became fans somewhere in the middle of the Dave Roberts run from first to second on October 17th, 2004 and Opening Day of 2005. These fans do not keep up with the players, or know who the team is playing until they turn on NESN. But what they lack in knowledge, they make up for in enthusiasm, and noise.
]]>At the same time, I am watching my friends and neighbors, get bored with the Sox. People who in years past i.e. pre 2004 could not find Fenway Park on a map. Who became fans somewhere in the middle of the Dave Roberts run from first to second on October 17th, 2004 and Opening Day of 2005. These fans do not keep up with the players, or know who the team is playing until they turn on NESN. But what they lack in knowledge, they make up for in enthusiasm, and noise.
Now, they are dealing with what to a new fan, is a long loosing streak, and an amazing ability to fall apart in games they are expected to win. I know they are going to do this. I almost expect this team to do this. No group of grown men playing this game of children are better at pulling defeat from the jaws of victory than any man in a Red Sox uniform.
So the people who do not understand this. People who never figured out the infield fly rule, or know what a rule 5 player is. People who have not yet realized there never was a gas station under the CITGO sign. And they are leaving Red Sox Nation, leaving, not for another Nation, but to become fans of Football or Basketball.
Part of me wants to convince them to stay, to tell them that being a Red Sox fan takes time, it takes faith. They are not just a baseball team, but a fickle lover, and a church with slightly insane worshipers. Not just a baseball team. Then I remember, to these new fans, they are just a Baseball team, and they are just fans. Not card carrying members of Red Sox Nation.
Thus I must decided, do I want my team, my fickle 25 headed lover to start winning again, or do I want one bad run so only the dedicated remain.
]]>I have been on a diet since the first of the year, dropping over 50 pounds and 6 clothing sizes. While I have regained a few of those pounds, I have promised myself I would get back on track, moving more and eating less. Which has worked for me so far.
Until today, at Dunkin Donuts.
A recent article in the Boston Globe, asking the question why another donut chain failed in Massachusetts mentioned DD sells more coffee than donuts. Even the newest adds for DD mention their coffee, and other drinks ignoring the donuts for which the store is named. Because, America, or at least this American runs on Dunkin. Coffee, not donuts, but this morning, they got me.
]]>I have been on a diet since the first of the year, dropping over 50 pounds and 6 clothing sizes. While I have regained a few of those pounds, I have promised myself I would get back on track, moving more and eating less. Which has worked for me so far.
Until today, at Dunkin Donuts.
A recent article in the Boston Globe, asking the question why another donut chain failed in Massachusetts mentioned DD sells more coffee than donuts. Even the newest adds for DD mention their coffee, and other drinks ignoring the donuts for which the store is named. Because, America, or at least this American runs on Dunkin. Coffee, not donuts, but this morning, they got me.
Someone apparently came into work this morning with far to much whimsy for a Tuesday, or made way to much icing. Donuts of several different types and flavors had become canvases, and each donut awarded a personality. Donuts were; smiling, laughing, frowning, sleeping, winking and other wise channeling a Gumby's worth of emotions. Waiting in line for my morning 'fix' as the smell of brewing coffee forced my brain into awareness the personalities on the wire racks caught my eyes, and the eyes of my fellow coffee addicts.
Donuts were being ordered, not just by flavor, but by name; the sleepy chocolate, the frowning jelly, the happy apple. Me, I requested the astonished Boston Creame, asking specifically for the Mr. Bill Boston Creame. I felt quite 'hip', as the teen behind the counter reached directly for the donut I wanted. Although, the pointing may have helped. Or was it just coincidence, 'he' was the only donut in the first row. I may have ruined my diet for the day, but the calories were worth the extra smile I took with me into Boston traffic.
]]>I’m trying to decide if this is feminism in action, or young woman looking for attention. Looking to punish, or annoy the parents, who must have forced twelve years of tap and ballet on their daughters, then business management in college. While I am pleased to see woman be proud of their less than Hollywood perfect bodies, I was not as comfortable with the obligatory walk through the crowd ‘passing the hat’ for tips. Or the behavior of some members of the audience, and I do not mean the birthday boys in the corner, or the bachelor party at the bar.
Perhaps it was the patron next to me who really caused me to freak due to his behavior. Really, Mr. State Rep, I was glad to see you patronizing a business in your district, but did you really have to toss that much money in the hat. Or request personal attention from the dancers. And as politician you can’t be a very good reader of body language, as you made the ladies, who agreed to pose a little uncomfortable. Not to mention the lady with the pen and paper sitting next to you, writing all this down. You had to notice me, the B cup in the red shirt, who was so unsure it was my own elected representative I had to stop you and introduce myself. I almost could not stay for the show, and I was glad to have been carrying a shawl to cover my bare shoulders with. You will not be getting my vote next time, not after this.
]]>I’m trying to decide if this is feminism in action, or young woman looking for attention. Looking to punish, or annoy the parents, who must have forced twelve years of tap and ballet on their daughters, then business management in college. While I am pleased to see woman be proud of their less than Hollywood perfect bodies, I was not as comfortable with the obligatory walk through the crowd ‘passing the hat’ for tips. Or the behavior of some members of the audience, and I do not mean the birthday boys in the corner, or the bachelor party at the bar.
Perhaps it was the patron next to me who really caused me to freak due to his behavior. Really, Mr. State Rep, I was glad to see you patronizing a business in your district, but did you really have to toss that much money in the hat. Or request personal attention from the dancers. And as politician you can’t be a very good reader of body language, as you made the ladies, who agreed to pose a little uncomfortable. Not to mention the lady with the pen and paper sitting next to you, writing all this down. You had to notice me, the B cup in the red shirt, who was so unsure it was my own elected representative I had to stop you and introduce myself. I almost could not stay for the show, and I was glad to have been carrying a shawl to cover my bare shoulders with. You will not be getting my vote next time, not after this.
The ladies of the Babydolls, do have talents, and more balls than most. Yes a cliché but a valid one in this case. To get on stage and to dance, or at least sway in time to the music prior to doffing gloves, vests and dresses takes courage. To do so when the attention of the small gathering is divided between watching the Red Sox lose, or straining to hear the sounds of the band in the next room must be tough. How does one decide to step on the stage, to bare your self, and I do mean bare. Better yet, could someone tell me how you get those pasties to swing quite the way.
They are all so young, do they think they are being feminists, or being objectified, do they even notice. How did each of them become a Babydoll, I wonder. Wonder, but leave the question unasked, as other than walking through the crowd asking for tips, the dancers do not mingle with the small audience in attendance. Instead, they quickly head out the door after the show ends, leaving only master of ceremonies Scratch behind.
Burlesque itself is ‘returning’ to the stage, mostly in places where there is a strong nightlife. Boston is not one of those cities, we have a night life, but more of a live music scene, not a strong performance scene. The Babydolls could be the spark that brings performance back to this city, but to do so, they need more performers, maybe a magician or a stage performer interspersed with the semi strippers. The first act, the hula hoop dancer was a step in the right direction; the two contortionists amazing. The jokes, left something to be desired, but then they were suppose to be that bad.
]]>Each car contains 4 to 6 youths, windows rolled up, radio screaming as the passengers watch the license plate of the car before, and the bemused faces in the car behind. My once quiet boulevard is packed, and could be mistaken for Storrow Drive prior to a Sox game. I wish I could impose myself on the riders in those gas guzzling behemoths, and ask why they are in swimsuits, if they have no intent to expose them selves to the sun's rays.
]]>Each car contains 4 to 6 youths, windows rolled up, radio screaming as the passengers watch the license plate of the car before, and the bemused faces in the car behind. My once quiet boulevard is packed, and could be mistaken for Storrow Drive prior to a Sox game. I wish I could impose myself on the riders in those gas guzzling behemoths, and ask why they are in swimsuits, if they have no intent to expose them selves to the sun's rays.
The sand has few sun worshipers, mostly children amazed at the sand. Running toward and then avoiding the water, playing tag with an opponent who knows not of their existence. It's still to cold to enter the water. I should warn them, by the time the water is warm enough to swim in, if ever, the summer will be almost over.
I am glad you love my home city, I am glad you eat at the restaurants we locals never do. But I really want to cross the street now, and drop this envelope in the mail box, so near, yet so far away.
So if it would not be too much of a problem. Could you all go home now?
]]>