i have not learned my lesson

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I seem to need to return to find a true original, or a person of real taste, or evidence of greater consciousness, or something. It's not enjoyable! It's worse than... no, no, no, it's not worse than the fake Zennies and "poets" of blogistan... I so needn't exagerate! It's as bad as all that.

So I've resurrected evidence of my irk from last month here, and may be adding to it while in the midst of rechecking for whatever the heck it is I keep looking for. I really think I'm wanting to stumble over some profound insight somewhere in the worldwide cobwebs.

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The trick to good muffins is stirring the batter just barely enough to get everything blended.

Strawberry Muffins

1/4 cup canola oil
1/2 cup milk
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup chopped strawberries

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Prepare an 8 cup muffin tin, or use paper liners.

In a small bowl, combine oil, milk, egg and vanilla. Beat lightly. In a large bowl, mix flour, salt, baking powder, cinnamon and sugar. Toss in chopped strawberries and stir to coat with flour. Pour in milk mixture and stir together only to moisten.

Don't over-mix.

Fill muffin cups. Bake at 375 degrees F (190 degrees C) for 25 minutes, or until the tops bounce back from the touch. Cool 10 minutes and remove from pans.

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Another woman's husband asked her what she was doing with so many butterflies. She didn't know, but aren't they cute? She took about 700 pictures of them, from every conceivable angle, and posted them all on her blog.

She cut up a DICTIONARY toward this end.

There is a definite protocol to this. You may post bright colors if you have small children. If you're a grandmother, everything in your life is a variation on white. Lavender sprigs allowed. If you live in the country you can have piles of gewgaws in any color scheme or none, but you cannot leave out bits of straw and lots of shots of you and your posse at the flea market. You call Size 14 women "skinny".

A terrifying number of them have the identical template, and an only slightly less frightening number of them have music blaring at you shortly after you've clicked in, but every last one of them has at least one instance of this and it hurts me to see so many women with nary an original thought in their heads laboring away to rejoice in this stuff. Maybe you begin to catch why I was never in the kitchen talking babies and shopping at dinner parties, but out in the living room talking about everything in the cosmos with their husbands.

But, once in a while, you run across someone with something truly amazing to impart... well.... That's not fair. Each has something, but mostly it's interchangeable. I'm nearly expert by now.... Anyway, I knit like this guy does, so I don't.

Just hopeless.

A great many of these women try hard to make their houses look like barns. I want to make a barn my house.

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Mister North popped in recently to taunt me about my barn loft with bathtub up in the cold climes of Canada, knowing full-well my desperation, and wishing, I suppose, as boyz do, to pull my pigtails in class. Maybe it's a search for a feasible alternative driving me. Who can tell?

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Seleta says "faith and family are most important" while enjoying her "coastal beach home"... and, except for the unique location away from the welter of inland beach homes, that's pretty much the story across the board. I'm gonna go out on a limb here to say I'm pretty much convinced she means the Redneck Riviera and am hoping her blog isn't the only clean and healthy thing left in her life... but I really have to just hope it because I sure don't see any mention of it.

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I have been wrong all along. The white fanaticism has spread to parents of very short people. I also found a tumblr page by a young man who is heavily into sex, anything made by Apple, surfing, the word "fuck" and WHITE interiors. He, uhm, had many images of more hundred-dollar bills than anyone has lying around like that, and almost never veered from Malibu.

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<— I found this image at a number of design blogs... in white. I changed that part. Do you suppose they were giving themselves pep talks? Being ironic? Genuinely feeling it? Pleased by the name? Wearing it like a designer shirt? Or carrying it like an iPhone? Or is it just that we don't have the little snippets on paper anymore to tape to a mirror?

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love, 99
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a mom against the einsteins enabling slaughter

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SHE ROCKS.

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I don't even want to think about this.

There was ample coverage of the loss of a US F-15 fighter jet over Libya Tuesday, and it always came with reassurances that the crew was safe. Less safe, however, were a group of Libyan civilians who came to the aid of one of the crew.

That’s because the civilians who met the plane’s weapons officer and offered him fruit juice while he waited to be rescued were attacked by US Marines during the brief ground incursion meant to rescue the crew. Some of the reports suggest the Marines arrived in a V-22 Osprey attack helicopter and opened fire on the crowd with it.

Six Libyan civilians were shot in the attack, including a young boy who local hospital officials say may lose his leg because of the attack. The weapons officer had been found in a sheep field and was met by the civilians, who were backers of the anti-Gadhafi rebellion.

The incident is news not just for the tragic outcome, but because despite the explicit UN prohibition on “occupation troops” being spun as a broad prohibition on ground troops, US Marines were indeed on the ground, in Libya, in a field full of sheep.

The pilot was initially picked up by rebel soldiers, who the Marines reported treated him “with dignity and respect” before handing him over to the troops. It does not appear there was any incident with regards to him. The Marines have yet to comment on the shootings in the recovery of the weapons officer.

The F-15 was flying out of Italy at the time of the crash, and officials are blaming a system malfunction. It is the first aircraft reported lost since the US and France started the Libyan War on Saturday. An F-15E Strike Eagle costs approximately $31 million.

I want a BATH in a REAL tub and I want it NOW.

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love, 99
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how about shooting me instead?

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Fuck.

The settlement agreement — opposed by some [?] environmentalists — is intended to resolve years of litigation that have shielded wolves in the Northern Rockies from public hunting, even as the predator's population has sharply expanded.

"For too long, wolf management [TALISMANIC SPEECH ALERT] in this country has been caught up in controversy and litigation instead of rooted in science, where it belongs. This proposed settlement provides a path forward," said Deputy Interior Secretary David Hayes.

Get me to the wilderness please.

PLEASE.

Help me get my tub and off the grid, and I will welcome people to come learn to live like true humans, help start over.

I promise.

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love, 99
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i'm gonna do some practical stuff now

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I am going bathe myself somehow. I am going to the store before it's obsolete. I am going to dress warmly once I am clean enough to merit the work it takes to put on so many layers. It's sunny out there with an icy breeze. These are usually the most beautiful days, but the cognitive dissonance of it being so sunny and yet so cold usually ruins it because you just have not put on the definitive bit of warmness to stay out in it.

Peggy gave me some certified organic lavender & black pepper detoxifying ❀ calming handmade soap from skinnyskinny for my birthday. Doesn't that sound like THE soap for me? Yes. Yes it so damn does. This 100% carbon neutral company wraps their products in old glossy magazine pages, and then a label of recycled paper and soy inks goes around that. Ultimately correct soap. In the perfect mode for everything that ails me. So I'm going to pretend I'm taking a bath in my not-a-tub with it and then, of course, use the shower to get something actually accomplished. After that will come the multiplicity of sweaters and leggings and socks. Then, oh, yes, then, I think this is a three-feather day. Once I'm home from the store and post office and whatever else, I will see about looking harder into the tubes for more to amaze, appall and/or amuse you.

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love, 99
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new theory on why mister north has stifled himself on the matter of my tub

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He's joined the financial elite and wishes to forget his radical past.

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In case of insomnia, an old movie involving Canadians....

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love, 99
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guess the irony wasn't lost on wikileaks either

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I received an email, right before the debacle in my not-a-tub, that made my stomach start hopping. Not only did it link me to some TOTAL crap from someone I felt sure would know better, but the email was from someone I know who is taking my word for it, but warily, because of his suspicions about the Mossad. More on that in a moment, but first:

Following the detention of Wikileaks founder and editor-in-chief Julian Assange, Wikileaks spokesman Kristinn Hrafnsson said:

“Today, Wikileaks editor-in-chief Julian Assange was refused bail by a UK court. While we are troubled by this bizarre decision, we know Julian is grateful for the support of both his legal team and prominent figures such as Ken Loach, Jemima Khan and John Pilger.

“However, this will not stifle Wikileaks. The release of the US Embassy Cables – the biggest leak in history – will still continue. This evening, the latest batch of cables were released, and our media partners released their next batch of stories.

“We will not be gagged, either by judicial action or corporate censorship. Today Visa joined Mastercard, Paypal, Amazon, EveryDNS and others in cutting off their links.

“Wikileaks is still online. The full site is duplicated in more than 500 locations. Every day, the cables are loaded more than 50 million times.

“US Senator Joe Lieberman today attacked the New York Times for its decision to publish the cables, just days after calling for companies to boycott Wikileaks.

“Just minutes later, the State Department announced the US will host next year’s UNESCO Press Freedom day. The irony is not lost on us. We hope in future, UNESCO celebrates press freedom somewhere where it exists.”

I don't know if it was the epsom salt I dumped into my not-a-tub, or punching through the far extreme of exasperation, but I went limp in there... insofar as one can do limp and keep one's mangled finger out of the water. Just in case, I'm calling for a truckload of epsom salt to be delivered to this address... tub or not-a-tub.

IF YOU READ THE CABLES YOU WILL KNOW THIS ISN'T GOSSIP AND IT ISN'T A MOSSAD OP.

Just because a few dickless fiends who are making a fine living off our loathing for Israel got out in front of this in their slobbering rabies to cover up their already diminutive members in the glare of comparison with a REAL man—AND because you are too damn jaded, or too damn lazy, or too damn kneejerk paranoid, or too damn scared, or too damn busy, or too damn scattered to READ THE DAMN CABLES—doesn't mean you should just succumb to the damn temptation to go along with them.

PLEASE!

EXIT your mental traps, your internal jail cells! They're NOT locked! Just LOOK.

I don't have a life! A ridiculous set of conspiring circumstances landed me stranded in bumfuck nowhere, without the wherewithal to escape. Gorgeous as it is here, I have NOT been able to find something with which, or someone/s local with whom, to engage in a manner that satisfies my need to be of USE to sentient beings. This leaves me with many hours of every day for the last five years to look DEEPLY into whatever I feel is demanding that scrutiny. I had been a top-level professional scrutinizer my entire adult life and have a bewilderingly high IQ... to name but a couple of the things that promote my ability to assure you that, no, my eyes are not deceiving me, Assange is for real.

I demand—if you are STILL not satisfied—that you go lock yourself into a closet until all the clanging mental contents preventing your sight have dropped out of your heads.

I REALLY MUST INSIST!

I know we haven't seen this big a hero in decades, but DON'T let that blow it for all of us now.

READ THE CABLES!!!

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love, 99
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i'm getting into my not-a-tub

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Try not to think about it....

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No. Really.

Officials: US drops demand for settlement freeze
By MATTHEW LEE, Associated Press – Tue Dec 7, 5:38 pm ET

WASHINGTON – President Barack Obama has abandoned attempts to persuade Israel to slow West Bank settlement activity, officials said Tuesday, dealing a major blow to the resumption of Israeli-Palestinian peace talks and one of the president's top foreign policy initiatives.

After months of trying to broker a formula under which Israel would impose a new, temporary settlement freeze in return for U.S. promises and incentives, two American officials said the administration has concluded that course won't work. The decision was expected to be announced later Tuesday.

Talks stalled in September, barely a month after they started. The Palestinians refused to return to direct negotiations until a new freeze was in place following the expiration of an earlier, 10-month Israeli slowdown in settlement expansion.

Now, said the U.S. officials, American pressure for a three-month moratorium and the U.S. incentives package, which included political, diplomatic and security assurances for Israel, are off the table. They spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to speak publicly on the matter.

The White House's bid for a Middle East peace settlement was a longshot from the start, but its apparent breakdown comes at a time when the administration is struggling on a number of fronts abroad. There is slow progress in the Afghan war, increasing friction with China and the embarrassing deluge of confidential diplomatic cables released by the website WikiLeaks.

The U.S. officials said the administration was not giving up efforts to broker a peace deal and noted that Israeli and Palestinian negotiators will visit Washington next week for consultations.

The U.S. will be talking with both sides in the coming days, one of the officials said, while Arab states and other interested countries also will be consulted.

However, the administration's decision to drop support for the Palestinians' key demand could mean the end of the moribund peace process.

Obama had made Israeli-Palestinian peace a major goal of his administration, appointing seasoned peace negotiator George Mitchell as his special Mideast envoy on his second day in office.

Mitchell made dozens of trips to the region to get the parties to agree to direct talks. In early September, with the expiration of the initial slowdown looming, Obama brought Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas along with the leaders of Jordan and Egypt to launch the face-to-face discussions, which failed.

Neither Israeli nor Palestinian officials would comment on the developments in Washington before their official announcement.

Earlier Tuesday, Israeli Defense Minister Ehud Barak said the U.S. had halted talks with Israel on settlement activity because Washington was distracted by the WikiLeaks release of secret documents.

State Department spokesman P.J. Crowley responded by saying that Israel may have been preoccupied with putting out a huge forest fire that burned until Sunday.

The U.S. had been pressing Israel to renew a moratorium on new settlement construction in exchange for security guarantees and diplomatic assurances of support. Israel wanted those in writing, as well as a pledge that east Jerusalem would be exempt from the moratorium.

The Palestinians refused to return to the peace talks unless Israel halted all building in the West Bank and east Jerusalem — lands they want for part of their future state.

Peace talks began in September but ground to a halt three weeks later after Israel's original moratorium on new West Bank construction expired.

Netanyahu returned from a November trip to the U.S. with a list of guarantees, including 20 next-generation stealth fighter planes and U.S. pledges to veto anti-Israel resolutions at the United Nations, according to Israeli officials.

In exchange, Israel was asked to renew the expired limits on settlement construction.

Days later the deal snagged after members of Netanyahu's Cabinet demanded a written pledge from the U.S. that the moratorium would exclude east Jerusalem. Such a pledge never materialized.

The U.S. had wanted a moratorium in the hopes that it would allow Israel and the Palestinians to make enough progress in drawing their future borders to make the settlement question irrelevant.

With borders determined, Israel could resume building on any territories it would expect to keep under a final peace deal.

But Israeli officials said Tuesday that short of an understanding on borders, a crisis could erupt if Israel agreed to the freeze sought by the U.S.

Now, said Israeli officials, insisting on anonymity because of the sensitivity of the contacts, the U.S. and Israel have agreed on a statement that "in the coming days and weeks, efforts will continue toward finding ways to renew the direct negotiations in order to reach a framework that would lead in the end to an agreement between the two sides."

I can barely move for the wrath shooting ice crystals through my veins!

Mister North has NOT come through with my barn loft and clawfoot tub. I'm probably going to be dead first.

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I think I will look at it this way: Maybe it will get the anti-Israel profiteers to stop masturbating on Julian Assange.

I have to look for the silver lining. Maybe that will crash JP Morgan too.

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love, 99
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batman-and-robin-obsessed jokers

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I see patterns emerging. Not just the Batman and Robin metaphor, but all these cables resemble heavily the rumors and the mentalities I've been noticing all over the tubes for years. It has long since been apparent to me that wherever the United States puts out the worst propaganda, there is where the most probity is bound to be in evidence. Unfortunately—oh, way, so way, unfortunately—few can follow this logic in the vast echo chamber that is our public "discourse." There are quotes around that because what some might call it doesn't cut it for me.

It looks to me as though we might as well have Joe Scarborough or Glenn Beck or Keith Olbermann or Jon Stewart manning our embassies 'round the globe. This is REALLY depressing stuff. And I'm finding it less and less a wonder how people can feel this stuff is bogus, planted propaganda... because that's the NICE PERSON'S take on it. I don't think it is true. In fact, I'm certain it's not, but, yes, indeed, I really am starting to see the logic of it at last. You're wrong. This is the real dope. Every other country on earth does its best to placate our psychopathic mentality because we have shown over and over and over again what happens when you don't dance to our tune, and tough shit how many of us have starved and died to keep The Joker's arsenal honed. Like I said before, be grateful for the ketchup.

This is not propaganda. This wasn't a plant. It's the beautiful filthy truth. They're as hypnotized as we are.

This is who we are and who we have to deal with.

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Probably the biggest mistake Julian made was making this fully available to the major newspapers first. He should have given it to many independent journalists to all publish on WikiLeaks itself, since its pretty certain he doesn't have the wherewithal to have had it all digested and explained to people who need help parsing the veracity and the context on each bit of material. No doubt the old warhorses, Hersh and Fisk have way more faith in their colleagues at the major papers than is actually warranted these days. But I tell myself it may not be too late to get an army of writers ON this. I know the hope is that each of us out here will pluck what we want from the sea of cables and run with it, either on our blogs or in our conversations with others, but I think it needs to be more organized than that. You might agree by now that the material needs to be accompanied by at least some cogent commentary to help keep people from going pathologically stupid and/or paranoid behind it. That IS the reason it gets released to the big news outlets, but I think it was foreseeable that they'd immediately do more harm than good with it, even if I understand why Fisk and Hersh might be a little blind to this, even for as exasperated with the general state of the press as they are.

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I want to remind you again that if our country were not broken, not completely owned and operated by CRIMINALS, there would have been no need for WikiLeaks at all. But everyone will be distracted from the actual by the hit jobs on the actual we're getting, EVEN as the actual is RIGHT HERE under our noses to deal with. I want my cave in China... with a claw foot tub.

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Maybe Julian will want to come along:

Assange is widely believed to be residing in southeast England, according to media reports.

Mark Stephens, his lawyer, said that British police and the security services of several nations knew his whereabouts, but did not confirm his location.

"The [British] police are being slightly foxy in their answers, but they know exactly how to get in touch with him, as do the Swedish prosecutors," he told the AFP news agency.

"Both the British and the Swedish authorities know how to contact him, and the security services know exactly where he is,'' he said in a separate interview to the the Associated Press.

I can't fathom he's enjoying this. In fact, I'm certain he's not.

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HUNNERTS OF WIKILEAKS MIRRORS....

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love, 99
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disoriented

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Maybe we should change the name of my theme song to "Unmoored". I have been feeling fairly markedly disoriented for days. I don't feel like I'm in this world. I'm not of it, but I'm supposed to be in it while not of it. I remember feeling this way the day before the '89 earthquake that dropped the Bay Bridge and rattled my house so hard I thought a truck was driving into it. I'd like to think it's my frequency rising to the next dimension, but I don't think that's it. Somebody look up in the Merck Manual for a dread disease that is characterized by a pervasive sense of being out of phase with one's surroundings. Please. I'm not depressed. I'm not happy. I'm not any particular mood. I'm just very, very weird, as though I'm splitting off, a combined lightness and heaviness that do not intersect, do not meld... out of phase, out of phase....

I'd get in my tub if I had one! Yessir. I'd get in there and soak myself good, right this very now. My not-a-tub will not do for this. I know it in advance. I know when I can get in there and pretend, despite the unlovely maneuvers required, and when I just cannot. Now is such a time... and it's been going on for many days. I'm OUT of phase.

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And, it's clear that I still cannot brook the sight of Alan Dershowitz, even late at night, without screeching at the top of my lungs and sputtering invective so loudly that lights switch on across the neighborhood. It takes months and months to regain the mental poise to even MENTION this stuff. And even out-of-it as I am right now, kabam! I want to reach through my monitor and rip out his throat. Not Zen. You might agree.

Anyway, I think RT may be airing American Radical this weekend a few times... but I'm obviously unable to get through it still, much as I love and respect Norman.

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I am knowing about all this because I couldn't wait for Max interviewing Alex to come up on YouTube, and so have been watching it air—via LiveStation—on RT. I heavily recommend it to you. It is good for the spirit to hear them together. They are nonpartisan. They are screaming the truth. They are making a dent. They are supporting us in making a dent. At LAST some REAL MEN are carving out the space for SENSE. They are a couple of the kind of guys I've always wanted on my side... and they perfectly crystal clearly ARE on my side.

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love, 99
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my dreams of sanity in canada are pau

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I have been pining for the bliss of my barn loft and clawfoot tub in the wilds of Manitoba with Mister North. The tub still moots every other consideration, but my dream of Canadian bliss, of Canadian sanity, are unable to overcome the hard reality of the truth. Being a truth junkie has its desperately hard moments, but, after all, one can NEVER live a true life without it.

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love, 99
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i'm moving to canada!

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A REAL bathtub... in a BARN... closer to polar bears.

UTTER BLISS.

Of course, DGPNorth may be toying with me, but, well... even just the idea makes me almost certain this is another one of my computer code, internet pattern dreams.

DON'T WAKE ME UP!

...[she screamed thirty seconds before doing it herself....]

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one of my heroes rubs it in

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Just LOOK at that goddam tub! What a bitch!

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I maybe shouldn't have read the interview. I mean, I know it's all publicity and claptrap, but one would CERTAINLY prefer great actresses to do better than that.

Anyway, heavy sigh, she's a damn bitch for flaunting that tub.

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sixties relics unite

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Degenerate peace faggots forever....

I did this because I ran out of room for the labels to today's main post....

So, if yer confused, sorry, deal with it.
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i'm having a bad hair day

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So I'm going to go soak my head in my not-a-tub....
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the agonies of my not-a-bathtub

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In the past the longing was sometimes so great I forgot how demoralizing it is to try to bathe in my not-a-tub and kept making the mistake of getting in it and going through many agonies to try to proceed in any manner one could remotely connect with the concept of relaxation. The buddhas must love me because there is no video. To say it is unlovely and inelegant to bathe in my not-a-bathtub is gross understatement.

Tonight I took a completely different approach. I did not let my love of soaking in a monster clawfoot enter into my purpose. I went into my not-a-tub without the wish to do anything more than to soak one part. One very utilitarian objective, and small enough to be doable, even in this travesty of tubtude. Satisfaction was achieved. Narrow objectives make possible minor satisfactions.

Now I'm making myself a suitable brandy concoction so as not to lose this feeling of efficiency back into the ocean of my longing for my goddam exalted monster clawfoot tub.

EVEN when I lived in a woodshed in the north forty of a pot plantation, I had a goddam bathtub! I had a chic outhouse, and my tub was out in the yard, with hot and cold running hoses. I cannot believe I have stood for this so long! I must really have been sick... but, OMG, can't you just see my husband-hoarding neighbor stroking out if I put a clawfoot in my yard here? If just my bare feet freak her this badly, the full monte would be the end of her for sure. :o)
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a nap came and took me this afternoon

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I'd been out holding screws and straps and other loose ends for our local crusty old carpenter guy who'd come to save me from the utility shed door problem, strapping her down against the elements until I can do something more elegant about it, and so I was soggy and cold and my cheaters were all speckled with raindrops. I was going to get into my not-a-tub to try to warm up and unstiffen my fingers. I thought I oughta download a bunch of videos before I did that though because I don't want my studies to be interrupted by the tubes tanking on me again in all this. So I downloaded three Manly Palmer Hall videos from Google Video, but as I was arising to go hit the not-a-tub a nap nabbed me, knocked me over the head and I was hearing snatches from this video, uplifting phrases, as I was drowning in my dream ocean.

I know bubkes about him, except, now, that there's a bunch of his stuff on the tubes, and that he says an uplifting snippet every so often. He's part of my recent master class in space lizardry and so maybe if I have any internet when I get out of the not-a-tub, I will link you to a bunch of the other stuff of his I'm planning on taking in so you can check it out if you want to.

I remember quite a bit of what I dreamed, but don't know if any of it bears telling about. I guess I'll do that too after my not-a-tub if it's happening.
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dragged my sorry ass up outta bed while it was still morning-ish

[click image of radiant woman waiting for coffee and wondering why it's so hard to see the screen]

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... even put on my clothes and took a proof image of the perky wreckage to leave you with while I managed to get some coffee in me, and go out into the world to get things done... coffee just about done dripping into my cup... image ready to upload... and then the internet connection went down.

Oh, well. I left without bidding you adieu with the above... and returned home to find myself back online... just long enough to answer a couple of emails and then kersploosh out we go again. I know not if even this will post, but, hell....

I was dreaming of being back in my little cabin in the trees again, drawing maps on tourist handouts from there to a place approximately near Kris Kristofferson's ranch down the coast for someone who was annoying me. I was being evicted from there and various authority figures showed up to give me surly looks and generally embody disapproval. It only irked me, took up time. It was even more stupid than this because one of them showed up to use my phone, and got pissed when the battery gave out on him before he could complete his call. I had been on a long call before that and the battery is needing replacing badly and there hadn't been enough time to recharge enough for his call. I handed him the base unit and told him to try that. Anyway, the whole thing was very jumbled... demolition that seemed by turns to be construction all under this pall of being evicted but not gone yet. I ended up in a bathtub anyway. At LEAST I can still bathe in my dreams....
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getting away with murder

[heedless teens]

A bunch of obnoxious, ultra-chic and totally slutty, teens were partying at the house where I grew up. I was clearing them out, but a couple of them, one in particular, were giving me lip. I just killed them. All that was left of them were their cell phones. I wondered if I'd be caught, and then just laughed. When the parents of the obnoxious one questioned me, I told them, yes, she'd been at my house, the obnoxious brat, and here is her cell phone back. That was the end of it.

Then, I was awakened from a nice soak in a huge and happy bathtub by an extremely pleasurable feeling.

I feel great.

See... in Zen symbolism this was a wonderful, wonderful turn on of a dream.

wipe out

Yesterday I bought two yards of compost in really big and cripplingly heavy bags. I took them off the stack and put them in the cart and then put them in the trunk of my car. Then I went for groceries. Today I wrestled the compost out of my trunk and to the places where I could open the bags and bail it onto my garden in manageable scoops. I dug out an old bed, lined it with plastic and filled in with new soil and compost and a hydrangea start I managed not to kill from my mother's garden. I weeded. I poked around for my little transcendental strawberries. I foiled the slugs. I have spent too much time wrasslin' with way too much weight for me and grubbling around in extremely taxing positions, both in the garden and that fucking not-a-tub, without reopening my slashed finger, and bleeding all over, but so whupped I slipped major, major, majorly as I was getting out of that fucking not-a-tub.

Were it not for the handles bolted to the wall I could very well have killed myself. I'm always telling you how unlovely this bathing in my not-a-bathtub is, but never has it been unlovelier than tonight. Since I was holding on to one of those handles, I only slammed my right knee very hard on the cabinet. I did not smack my head full force on anything, but, whoa, I sure would have, but for that handle.

I don't care what it does to my reputation as a night owl. I'm going to bed.

So, well, call me if we nuke anybody, okay?

And if you don't find me some help with this bathtub thing, it honestly could be lethal.

no, really

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... a wealthy socialist who will take me to long soaks in Icelandic spas, be a wizard with the TiVo. He could be only a little wealthy, very quietly capitalist and be willing to become a TiVo wizard. I'm not unreasonable! My brains are returning. The yucky things are healing. My normal weight, I feel confident, is returning. I'm going to be a codger babe again soon. He won't be sorry.

I'm reminded of my urge for him by having to resort to bourgeois treats, french vanilla ice cream with fresh blueberries, a big slug of Robert Mondavi cabernet, that sort of thing, to soothe my aching nerves.

HaloScan is completely verklempt, sometimes not posting comments, sometimes not counting comments, sometimes only seeming to be not posting comments, sometimes not notifying me of comments, and generally making a travesty of this operation. So. Let's all pretend we're not vexed and maybe it will resolve itself.

My wealthy socialist gentlemen will also free me from the local video store clerks' callow recommendations for new releases. And, no matter how many times I ask, they won't get me The Motorcycle Diaries.

[2ish: Russian news outlets are reporting -- here and here and here -- the surrender and/or capture of the Georgian troops who did not leave South Ossetia as so widely and propagandistically reported here behind the Iron Curtain. The clowns in the White House appear to have encouraged their asshole buddies in Tiblisi to get a lot of people killed, with NO idea the Russians would respond so quickly and with such alacrity.

From the Times Online:

The Russian attacks were met with Georgian artillery fire towards South Ossetia, despite President Saakashvili’s statement that he had called a ceasefire. Reporters later witnessed at least six Georgian helicopters attacking targets in South Ossetia.

Our fascist media are unregenerate liars! These shits have been saying the Georgians pulled out of South Ossetia for what, two days? Screaming about the disproportionate response to such a miniscule little thing like their peacekeeping force being bombed and a couple thousand Russian-friendly South Ossetians being slaughtered.... Oh, oh, oh! Where're my frickin' blueberries!?! Aaaaaagh!]

[[4ish: And, pft, bad guys now duly repelled, President Medvedev halts the military action in Georgia. Maybe the Georgians will give Saakashvili the boot.]]

[[[Next day: Watch videographer expose media trick regarding supposed Russian attack on Gori...]]]