The Rat Race

When I was in my 20's I was job hunting and I saw that Bon-Macy's was hiring...Now just Macy's. So I filled out an online application, got an interview, and they were so impressed that they offered me my choice of where I wanted to work. Had a chosen to work in the back, I might still be there today, but probably not. I chose to work in Housewares. They put me in Fine China and Glassware. Plates lined with Platinum that sold for $100 EACH...PER PLATE. So imagine wanting an entire set? $1000 at least. Glassware by Calvin Klein, Kate Spade, Vera Wang....I don't even remember...it was fucking ridiculous. WHY WOULD ANYONE EVER PAY THAT MUCH FOR DINNERWARE??? You can go to Target and get everything you need for a hundred dollars! I spent my first day in awe of the different champagne flutes, trying like hell not to break anything...talk to my mom and she will tell you that this spinster should never be allowed around fine china. I dusted it carefully, and made it shine. Didn't make a single sale the whole day. I didn't care. I was scared of customer service, because there was no way I could EVER convince someone that paying so much for dinnerware was a good idea. NEVER. My second day, I looked around and wondered what the fuck I was doing there? I made it through. I went out to smoke and found myself in the midst of the downtown rat race. The last place I wanted to be. My third day, I parked my car, caught the bus downtown, clocked in, dusted, shined, sold some glass Swarkofski bullshit trinket and came to a realization that I did not belong. I decided maybe if I went to lunch it would be better...I clocked out...stepped outside into the rat race...a bus stopped and it was headed toward my car....I got on it....got to my car and never went back...except to get my last paycheck which was very uncomfortable. I almost forfeited it. Almost. I dressed up with hoodies and sunglasses and got my check, THEN never went back. I hate the rat race. I don't belong in it.

Taking Steps...Leaps...Bounds

Well, I did it. I went during work to turn in my application to deliver pizza for a wonderful pizza place. It's two blocks over from where I work now, which means if the people here order pizza, I might be their delivery person. It's perfect. Ok, no need to get my hopes up. But I have an interview at 4 on Saturday. My kinda time. And it's way better money than I make here. And I can pet sit for my old people here, and go to work...and get paid for it all the way around.

I must put an end to these nightmares. Staying awake until 5am every night/morning having the image of my new fat cat manager poking my back with a metal rod is no way to live. This is the time. This is always the time. When I start having nightmares about work, it's time to go.

I've always wanted to deliver pizza for a living. It certainly is less life-consuming than what I'm doing now. Just me and my car and the smell of awesome pizza. Why not? I'll see what my dreams have to say about it tonight and the moon is always honest with me.

I've experienced this before. The end of a chapter always begins with nightmares of continuing the chapter. I've never been one to stay stuck in a rut for too long. Yes, this could be really good.

The Randall to My Dante

Was talking to T last night and when talking about work, he quoted "Clerks" at me. When Randall is telling Dante that he's such a pussy and never stands up for himself. I told T that I have an inner Randall, but at work, I'm forced to be Dante. And being Dante sucks. And my Randall is constantly arguing with my Dante.

Randal Graves: So, your argument is that title dictates behavior?

Dante Hicks: What?

Randal Graves: The reason you won't let me use your car is because I have a title and a job description, and I'm supposed to follow it, right?

Dante Hicks: Exactly.

Tabloid Reading Customer: I saw one, one time, that said, "The next week, the world is ending." And in the next week's paper, they said, "We were miraculously saved at the zero hour by a koala-fish mutant bird." Crazy shit.

Randal Graves: So, I'm no more responsible for my decisions here than, say, a Death Squad soldier in Bosnia?

Dante Hicks: Oh, now, that's stretching it. You're not being asked to slay children or anything.

Randal Graves: Yeah, not yet. [takes a drink of water]

Tabloid Reading Customer: And I remember this one time- [Randal spits water at him]

Tabloid Reading Customer: I'm going to break your fucking head! You fucking jerk-off!

Dante Hicks: Sir! Sir, I'm sorry! He meant to hit me.

Tabloid Reading Customer: Yeah, well, he missed!

Dante Hicks: Yeah, I know. Here, let me refund your money, and we'll call it even, alright?

Tabloid Reading Customer: I'll never come in here again. [to Randal]

Tabloid Reading Customer: And if I see you again, I'm gonna break your fucking head open! [Randal salutes him as he leaves]

Dante Hicks: What the fuck'd you do that for?

Randal Graves: Two reasons. One, I hate it when people can't shut up about the stupid tabloid headlines.

Dante Hicks: Oh, Jesus!

Randal Graves: And two, to prove a point. Title does not dictate behavior.

Dante Hicks: What?

Randal Graves: If title dictated my behavior, as a clerk serving the public, I wouldn't be allowed to spit water at that guy. But I did. So, my point is that people dictate their own behavior. Even though I work in a video store, I choose to go rent movies at Big Choice. Agreed?

Dante Hicks: [gives Randal his car keys] You are a danger to both the dead and the living.

Randal Graves: I like to think I'm a master of my own destiny.

Dante Hicks: Please, get the hell outta here.

Randal Graves: You know I'm your hero.

Yep. Randall IS my hero...I wish I could spit water at stupid people. I don't think that my title dictates my behavior. However, my inner Dante is always behaving as his title dictates.

I have to find a new title. I have to find something to make both of them calm. They are at war right now. Also, I have my new boss, in my head, poking me with something sharp...in my head, I can see him, with a metal rod, poking me in the back and smirking. "What DO you DO here???" And my Randall response is "Nothing" but my Dante response is "I am here because you pay me to be here, even though once I get here, there is nothing to do. But in case there is someone who needs something from me, I'm available." My inner Randall whispers "PUSSY".

Yes. Time for a new title.

Phase One Complete...Phase Two GO

Phase one: Sterilization - CHECK! Phase Two: New Employment...

Although I love my old people like I was obligated to love them, I have to move on. The new boss man is already questioning my worth and I cannot claim that just being here for support or someone to talk to is a valid reason to pay me by the hour. Sometimes they just want someone to talk to...who knows them. That is me. That won't change. They all have my cell number and know they can call me whenever, the fact remains, that in the eyes of the corporation, I am very close to obsolete.

It's funny...obsolete, me? I feel like I do so much, but when it comes down to making a list, most of the things I do, are supposed to be paid for through the concierge. I don't charge. The corporation likes to nickel and dime these people to death, until death, and I won't be a part of it. I do things to be nice. Because I'm capable of doing something that they cannot. If they choose to reward me, then great, but I never expect it. I only want to go to sleep at night, knowing that I did what I could do. Last night I couldn't get to sleep...I could feel my boss questioning my worth. I can't lose sleep over this. Must fix the problem. Stay Tuned.

The End of a Chapter

Common sense, morality, compassion...these are things that come naturally to most people, probably to all people at some point or another. When you add power and money to the mix, these three aspects of our human nature go right out the window. That is my own observation. Occasionally you get a Bill Gates or a Barrack Obama, and they have a way of maintaining those aspects, but mostly money and power seem to drive the good out of people and pull the evil in. I work for a corporation, I must remember that. I used to think of it as a company, a family that provided a nice retirement community for people who were able to afford it. Things have changed. If I believed in the Antichrist, I would believe that he was hired as our new GM. Money is the number one issue...how to make more money! Employees, residents, family, nope. Money. This new GM is so pathetic and generic. At our first team meeting, he compared what we do to Disneyland. No joke. Cause moving out of your house of 40 years where you raised your kids and lived with your spouse who is now gone and moving into a studio apartment is just like going to Disneyland?! I'm pretty sure this man went to business school. I'm pretty sure he attended a motivational speaker event at some point, probably sponsored by walmart, and just blurted it out to us, recycled drivel as far as I'm concerned. I would like to stay and take care of my old people, but I'm afraid that this chapter of my life is about to end, and a new one is about to begin. I'll find a way to still be a part of their lives, but I can't do it this way. Not with this corporate zombie constantly looking to see why he's paying me. Nope. It's time to go.

Roses

Mary Jean's roses are still thriving. Even without her there to prune them or to defend them from pests, they still thrive. I have to embrace her roses. I have Gabby to remind me of how much I cared about Warren. It was harder with Mary Jean because she was tiring, but was still able to do things. I took my leave of absence, and she fell and broke her hip, had an operation to fix it and was OK, then went to a nursing home to recover, and then she got really tired. I talked to her every Saturday night while I was on leave and she was in the nursing home. I thought it was temporary and I thought I would see her again. She said to me on my last night before my leave "What am I going to do without you here?!" I told her I would still talk to her and the month would be over and I would be back before she knew it. It was 3 weeks and she was gone. She told me the week before she died that she was done. I told her that she was allowed to be done when she was ready. I still didn't expect it. It hasn't even been a year, and every day her absence is really strong. I spent every night visiting with her in her last year, talking, telling stories, building a bond I didn't think was possible between such different people. But she told me that I was like a daughter to her. I don't have that kind of connection with my own grandmothers, but I do with some of the people here. I still feel her. I still feel like she's watching over me.

She was the toughest person I ever met. She lived for years without a pancreas! She had found out about her pancreatic cancer and told them to remove it...they warned her that people cannot live without a pancreas. She did for several years. She chose to live. She chose to die. I think she was ready to live another life in spirit, because her body was broken. She is still here. Still taking special care of her roses.

Destruction and Beauty

No matter how terrifying life can be, there seems to be something beautiful about it as well. Today is one of those days. I almost crashed on the freeway today, but then I didn't, and was thankful. My heart was racing, and I was thankful. A volcano erupts in Iceland and although it put a stop on flights in and out of Europe for a while, this picture symbolizes how beautiful it can be. Some people saw this with their own eyes, and although at the time were dwelling on being stuck at the airport, I wonder if they will remember this spectacular vision! The last earthquake that we had here in Seattle, my Jade Buddha almost killed me...it dropped off a shelf above my head and landed on my pillow next to my head, and woke me up...the shaking didn't wake me up, the Buddha did. It was a memory that will never fade, so long as I have my Buddha. It's like he said "WAKE UP! There is an earthquake and you need to experience it!" It was scary. I was alone with my cats in a really old building and we swayed for a while, but I experienced it.

Today is the kind of day that I hold on to. I feel good. I feel like everything will be OK, no matter what. Everything is fine today. I'm looking forward to whatever the day brings. Because as I've learned from life, everything happens for a reason. Life is good.

On the Slab

I had my pre-op appointment today with my doc. He tried to convince me that it is way too dangerous to do this tubal ligation surgery and that we should wait. He said if he can't get where he needs to go with a small incision, he will make it bigger and may have to cut my entire abdomen open. I could actually die from this? Well, if I tried to have a child and carried it full term, it might also kill me...so fuck it.
I think it will be fine. I think he is trying to scare me because he thinks I'm too young to make this decision. Too bad. My body, my choice.
While shaping my life to be what I want it to be, I must do what I have to in order to prevent anything getting in my way. Children would ruin my plans. Nope.
If I die on the table, I hope my legacy was worth something.
Hopefully I will be here to update my readers on Monday. If not, know I loved you.
Spinster

Anticipating the Arrival of the Moon

28 days go by in between the cycles of the moon. It's no coincidence that many other aspects of life go in 28 day cycles, including my own emotional cycle...and no, I am not talking about menstruation...but rather, an emotional shift. I look for the moon, I try to make time every night to see where the moon is, where it rises and sets, how much of it is visible, I welcome it when it's full, I say out loud "Hello Moon!"...really, I actually do. Sometimes the moon gives me a wink, in which the air and cosmic energy is different, but it leaves it at that. Most of the time, the moon wreaks havoc on my world, along with the whole world. The energy is so intense that it can change my mood, it can push me down, step on me and walk away without guilt...onto the next victim. I don't know if other people feel the same about the moon as I do, but even with all of it's massive influence, I still love to see it. I love to follow it home. I love to watch life wake up in it's extreme light at night. I don't need a porch light, I have the moon. When the moon's power fades, a few days after it's greatest moment in it's own cycle, I feel normal again. Daily life returns, porch lights come on, routines resume. But a few days before the moon is full, when it starts to make it's presence known, it transforms me. It hypnotizes me. I see things in a different light, figuratively and literally. Flowers are at their fullest and brightest. Catastrophes are at their most horrible. My funny bone gets accidentally bumped on the corner of the door many more times. I cry more. I laugh more. I think more. I love more. I hate more. I contemplate more. I look around more. I look more closely. I smell more. I taste more. I crave more. Desire, I desire in a most intense way. (With regards to desire...you know when you have those dreams, where things are as vivid as they possibly can be? And at some point, it turns from a strange movie into a sex dream and you can feel every touch, smell every smell and you are almost to the point of a mind blowing orgasm but you wake up just before, and are left frustrated all day? Next time that happens, take a look to see where the moon has been and if the moon has an alibi for last night?!) And then that 28th day comes around and there it is, in all it's power and glory! The full moon...looking at me with it's ravenous energy...I have both a great respect and a great fear of it. I think I know what it is capable of...I've seen it at it's worse...haven't I? I've seen it at it's best...haven't I? Of course not, silly girl, you have only been around for about 370 moons...and for too long you gave it no notice and no respect...now it demands both. I will submit myself to it's power. I will give it what it wants. Or it will give me what I secretly want? Oh great Luna, you know exactly what you want from me...I wish you would clue me in ahead of time on occasion. I sound like a hippie...I don't care. There is plenty to be said about the power and influence of the moon.

Unhappy Servants Makes for Unhappy Customers

A guy goes to community college or trade school, takes a few motivational speaking lectures, and then gets his degree running businesses and voila! A bureaucrat is born! Yes, the business school bureaucrat. He shows up one day to run a business...my business. The business of old people. This isn't a retail store, this is not a real estate company. We are in the business of making people comfortable in their last stages of their lives. We make them feel comfortable, give them whatever they need to be happy, we smile, we love, we care. Money is for the accountant to deal with. Now, they are bribing us with ten dollar gift cards to convince people to move in.
I remember working for what used to the Bon Marche, and somehow got stuck in the fine china department. Plates with platinum lining, were $100 each! There was no way I could convince anyone that I believed it to be worth the money. I didn't. I knew I was not in my element, so I clocked out for lunch, went out for a smoke, instead, got on a bus and went home. I had to go.
This job is all about the people. I believe they pay too much and that at times they are being swindled...I will not participate. These are real people, with feelings who are at a crossroads in their lives, and I will not see them as giant dollar signs. Nope. I will find a new source of employment before I try to be a sneaky, snaky bureaucrat.
The boss is a jackass. We all know it. We all see it. We are unhappy about it. The residents are unhappy that we are unhappy.

Venting

As of the 23rd of this month, I will no longer be able to conceive unwanted children. That is awesome, I cannot wait.
My new boss at work is kind of, I'm not really sure. We had our first meeting with him and he said some good things, and is going to make the dining staff get CPR/First Aid certified, which they should have been when they got hired. But he is ignoring my building of independent living seniors. I brought up the concern that at night if someone has an emergency, the doors are locked and the medics cannot get in. I heard the usual response..."Well, they ARE independent." Yes, but they still pay a lot of money to live here, and one of the amenities is having 24-hour security and staff available. It only takes one bad night to turn a fully independent person into needing assisted living services. He took my pager away, and is going to leave all the paging to the caregivers, cause that worked out so well on Sunday, when NO ONE responded to a smoke warning...finally I had to do it, even though it was the other building. It makes me feel uneasy. It makes me want to leave. I am now waiting for something horrible to happen at night, after I leave. Sometimes it sucks to care so much. It really does.
I am applying for scholarships, grants and general breaks in tuition costs. I can take Anthropology courses online through OSU, and that would be fine. I do however, need to rethink my work. This place, these people take up so much of my life, I don't know that I will be able to hold on to the class information. Still working on it. I'm exhausted.
Looking forward to an old friend coming home.

Embracing the Chaos?

I am feeling many different emotions at the moment. I feel sad, because I heard a song that reminded me of Kerry. I'm feeling contemplative because of my future plans and current situation. I feel like talking to someone, however, I don't know what I would say, and the only two people available are cynical and make a lot of jokes...one makes more jokes than the other, but they are the only ones awake now. I feel like crying because of it all. I need to write to try to get it all out of my head. I don't really have anything specific to say...I feel...blank. I feel like a piece of paper that has on it, too many scribbles to make out anything that can be called a picture. I feel pain. My body is making clear it's exhaustion. I feel like I could use a hug. I don't feel like being touched. I feel like I am in desperate need of someone who can hug me without it being weird. It used to be easier when times were less complicated...before a long, drawn out hug led to sex. Sex is great, but it's not what I need...being held is what I want and need. I feel sad that I push people away who might have been available to hold me. I feel sad that the rest can't be trusted. I feel sad for the resident who's story of childhood and adulthood was so incredibly horrible, and wish she could have experienced love. I feel sad that Georgia isn't around. Georgia would have understood. I feel sad that my babies really want me to go lay down and snuggle and that I'm not ready to yet. I feel sad that I only have a couple hours each day to really spend with them. I feel angry that my job takes up so much of my fucking time that even the idea of school makes me more exhausted. I feel like I am wasting time. I feel like it would make it better if people just knew. I feel excited and sad that I won't have children. Only slightly sad...mostly excited. I wish my body would stop hurting. I hate money. I hate that I NEED money. I hate that I work hard to make money, and give it all away to vendors and bill collectors. Ok, bill collectors don't really get any...some do. The important ones. I wish I had done better. I don't regret doing it poorly. These things plague me. My brain is overloaded with puzzles that I can't seem to solve. Maybe it's not time to solve them. Maybe I'll know when it IS time. Maybe not, and I will miss my opportunity. Maybe my birth control is finally wearing off after 3 years and I'm simply PMS-ing? Who knows. Who EVER knows? I am happy that I didn't misspell one word.

Buddha Ruse

I was watching a program about The Buddha the other night, and I really admire the basic way of thinking by Buddhists. I would hear something so incredibly obvious, that I would say to myself "I should start paying attention and following some of these teachings." Then just a second or two later, I my other self would say "No WAY! You are an activist! You get mad too easily and worked up and feel like fighting to death for your beliefs!" The two me's were throwing punches inside my head all night. I want to be at peace and enjoy life and nature and all it's miracles...but so many people are destroying it that I have to fight for it's right to BE!...but life is going to happen the way it is going to happen, and I have no control over this, so why not sit back, breathe deeply and take it all in...BECAUSE I have a job to do! I have a purpose for being on this earth! Not just to sit back and relax, but to fight to make it a better place!

It gave me a headache! All this fighting, one of me wanting desperately to do what I (believe) was put here to do! And my other me, finding so much logic in Buddha's teachings, nodding in agreement. Is that what he is so smug about? Because he KNOWS how much it makes sense and how HARD it is to practice such peace? I looked over at my Jade Buddha, with his fat belly and big grin, and wondered until I fell asleep.

I've read a lot of the bible, as much as I can, and continue to learn about the bible, not for the sake of enlightenment, but just for entertainment. It fascinates me. Such wild stories! But I NEVER feel like any of it applies to me. I've opened my mind to other religions and beliefs and some of them are sort of understandable, and some are simply bat-shit crazy, and others are so far from everything I believe in, I avoid it like the plague. I've never felt like I've been searching for any spiritual guidance. I feel like I have an agreement with nature, or god, or whatever...and a lot of it is so similar to Buddhist teachings...but the activist in me, the one who is going to Africa to fight against people trying to destroy such beauty, cannot just sit back and accept it. I think that might just be the point. That is why Buddha is so fucking smug...because I HAVE to find my own enlightenment. We all do. No one can tell us what we NEED to know to get to enlightenment. No man, no deities, no texts. (As you may have noticed, I have just figured this out NOW, as I write.) Ok then. Off I go.

When Nothing Helps

Mourning is something that is natural for several instances in life. The loss of a friend or family member, either by death or just a final fight. The loss of what you hoped was your "forever" person. The loss of a pet (for me, that's the worst of them). These things require certain feelings. Nobody can make you NOT feel those feelings. And yet, we plead to NOT feel these extreme emotions. Anything! Alcohol, drugs, sex, sitting in a dark room, going out and pretending nothing is wrong. We fight grief so much, but are we making it worse in the end? I've been through a lot in life. I've lost friends to death, friends who were much too young. I've lost family members who were too young, and some too old. I've lost the person who I believed was my "forever" person. I've lost pets, too soon and as planned. No amount of condolences can make it any better, or make sense of it all. Hugs seem to make it worse...and yet people are so quick to hug you when you are grieving. (I am guilty of that at work.) No amount of alcohol makes it go away, often it makes you feel it even more. Whenever I lose a pet, I go straight to the liquor store...I get a bottle of coconut rum and Barq's root beer and drink and cry. When I realized that my "forever" person had been lying to me for years and would never come through on any promises or plans, and I fell out of love, I didn't cry. But I was pissed! That wasn't the plan. Later, of course, I realized that it was the best thing that could have happened, and I just wish I would have figured this out sooner. Nevertheless, nothing helped. It didn't help when my friends told me how horrible he was, and that they never liked him. That made it a lot worse. How could I have gone so long and been so blind??? Made me feel stupid and duped. And yet, that is what I heard over and over. "I never liked him." or "He wasn't good enough for you!" Well, what does that say about me? Eventually, we move on. Scarred and battered from all those hard, sharp emotions, I made it. Bitter and jaded...but with a new focus. I realized that people die. People disappoint. Pets die. And there isn't a damn thing we can do about it, but to feel each emotion, no matter how sharp it is, and how much blood it draws, and then after we have bled and cried as much as we can, the next thing to do is to find something to focus on. A purpose of our own. Not be a part of someone else's purpose. But find YOUR reason for being here. What are YOU going to do with your talents and time?? I have figured mine out. What's yours?

Oh...an important side note: Don't forget about the people you CAN count on. They are few and far between, but we all have a couple. Even when nothing they say makes it better...don't forget to find them when you need them.

Intentions

My intentions for my life are not noble or brave. I simply want to do something significant with my time on earth. Not for the sake of recognition or praise, but for the sake of feeling like I've done something selfless. I WILL go to Africa, I WILL fight the poachers who kill protected animals for the sake of medicine and food. I WILL dedicate my life to something I believe in. It will not be profitable, it will not be safe, and I would be happy to die while doing what I know to be the right thing to do. I am not made for marriage and children. I am not made to own real estate. I do what I do, because I want to help those that cannot help themselves. We were lucky enough to be allowed to inhabit the earth, and yet we continue to destroy it and everything else that lives with us. I am not sure that God exists. I have no idea if what I believe is true. But I will do what I have to do anyway. Because I truly believe that there is a greater purpose for me being here. I have to believe it. The time has come to stop worrying about things like love and vanity. It's time to start my task. It begins now.

Imagine the Tedium part I

If anyone has ever had a horribly boring job before, where you felt like you were doing nothing of importance, just menial and routine tasks day in and day out, contributing absolutely nothing to the world...just imagine for a moment being retired. Imagine having worked for 30, 40 or 50 years at the same job, providing for your family, and maybe not changing the world, but at least pulling your own weight. Then one day, it's your retirement day. All of a sudden, your purpose in life has changed. People tell you to "Relax! Enjoy your freedom!" but you still wake up at the same time every morning, drink your coffee, eat your oatmeal or eggs and bacon, and then just when you would normally be getting in your car to head to work or heading to the bus stop, you look around and realize that you have nowhere you need to be...nothing you have to do today. The kids have long since left the nest, your spouse is gone, or incapable or just too damn old and tired to want to travel or get together with other retired friends. Day in and day out, you look around trying to find a way to contribute to the world, but at every turn there is someone wanting to do it for you. It frustrates you because you are perfectly capable of doing it yourself...ok maybe not, but you are going to at least try. Then after a year or two, the tedium of retirement catches up to you. Retirement...pfft! Retirement was supposed to be your golden years, when you could sell the house, pack the RV and head across the country, or go on cruises around the world. But the stress your body has gone through after having done the same menial tasks for 30 or more years makes it impossible to enjoy being free. Aches and pains plague you, you cannot enjoy that wine tasting because your sense of smell is failing you. Your doctor is concerned about your heart, and having so much faith in the docs word, you follow the low sodium dietary restrictions, so there goes the taste of food. Your telephone can't get any louder without waking up the neighborhood, but you cannot hear high pitch noises any longer, as your hearing is failing. You pick up the newspaper every morning and struggle to read the tiny print...I swear the print used to be bigger. No it was never any bigger, your eye sight is failing you. I would like to go for a walk but it's so cold for May! No it is actually warmer than usual, only your skin has gotten thin and blood flows slower, and therefore your body has lost some of it's natural ability to regulate your body temperature...you get colder, faster. Maybe if we move to a retirement community, where we can meet other retirees and play bridge and go to dances and have parties with people our own age. So you do, your spouse kicking and screaming all the while, not wanting to rot at the death factory! So you get to this new life, a new apartment to decorate with all your old furniture but less space...no matter, it's a new beginning. Indeed. You go for your first meal and walk into the dining room and suddenly, you have a Deja vu...holy shit! It's the first day of a new school all over again! Where do you sit? With whom? Of course, just your luck, you choose a table with a single, old man sitting there. You go to sit in a chair across from him and you hear "I don't want you to sit there!" you reply "I'm really a very nice person." The old man responds "Well I'm not!" so you move on. Find a group of ladies who sound a little like a flock of birds, you sit and they welcome you. This is fine. It will be fine. Your spouse decided to stay home for the meal, bring something home for me! You spend your meals trying to keep track of the conversation that seems to be going all over the place. They cannot hear each other! You make it through the meal, somehow not choking on the piece of meat the kitchen tried to pass off as pork roast, though there is no amount of low sodium gravy that could make that into pork roast. You bring a to go plate with a ham sandwich and some potato chips for the spouse. It's 8:00 p.m. and almost time for bed. But why? I don't HAVE to get up at 5! because it is just the way you do it. Because it's always the way you've done it, and always will be.

The Difference Between Dancing and Foreplay

Once upon a time, people used to dance. I'm not talking about the booty shaking we do now, or the "white man's overbite" fast dancing that people attempt...I'm talking about actual dancing. One person would ask another person to dance with them, and they would go onto the dance floor and do an actual dance. Waltz to the Two-Step, they would have rhythm, and it would be a dance...no grabbing asses, no trying to make out on the dance floor, no dry humping, just a rhythmic dance. The kind of dancing that little girls do with their dad's, while stepping on daddy's feet. Dancing now a days is just a precursor to a one night stand. The last time I stepped foot into a dance club, it wasn't 5 minutes before my ass was grabbed, and then I left. The time before that, (which caused me to be cautious of dance clubs), I walked in, and then lost my group of friends...I turned around and without knowing what hit me, someone had their tongue in my mouth...no shit really! No introductions, no elevator eyes, nothing, just BAM with the tongue! When I came to my senses a few seconds later, I pushed back and saw this short Asian guy...who the hell is he?? I turned around to go find my friends, and BAM! ANOTHER TONGUE IN MY MOUTH! NO SHIT! You've got to be kidding me! A bizarre experience to say the least. I think to myself "Neither of these guys even bought me a drink and they both just stuck their tongue into my mouth. So tasteless...pardon the pun.
On my way home from work last night, I heard a Neil Young song, and remember the Harvest Moon video, where he was dancing with a lady, and they just danced. One hand had her hand and the other on her waist! Not her ass! It had rhythm...it had class...it left no bad taste in any unsuspecting woman's mouth.