Because I Love You

I felt like creating a new crossword today, but was at a loss for subject matter. Blogging was on my brain. And that's when it hit me:

Why not create a crossword puzzle based on the blogs I link to? So I did.

If you are listed under "Blogs" or "Photo Blogs" there's a clue with your name on it. I thought it would be a fun way for those of you who read a lot of the same blogs to test yourselves, and to encourage you to visit a few places you perhaps haven't yet. I created it with java, so it should be suitable for most browsers.

I hope you enjoy!

How Well Do You Know Each Other?

Illustration Friday-Sorrow

Because my blog entries for the past couple of weeks have rebelled against loading, I'm posting this again. I worked too hard on it not to.

Sorrow. Most of us have felt it. I curl up in bed in a fetal position and cry myself to sleep...

Finally!

This has been an all night, ugly battle, but it would seem that my blog is functioning again. Whether or not it is fully operational, I have yet to ascertain. Frankly, I'm too tired to test it further now. I think it's still buggy. But I'm back.

Sorry for disappearing so abruptly. My domain transfer had been delayed. When it finally took place it happened so quickly that I didn't have time to warn anyone. Hopefully I'm back to stay now.

I'm rambling. I need sleep.

Illustration Friday- Flight

This week's topic was Flight. This painting is actually a work-in-progress, but as it's Friday I'll give you what I have so far. As you can see, it has more to do with flights of fancy than literal flight.

Celestial

I created this some time ago. When I look at it I think things like: star, universe, horoscope, peace.

"Every fool knows you can't touch the stars, but it doesn't stop a wise man from trying."
~Harry Anderson

Broadway's Loss

Arthur Miller has died. He has long been one of my favorite playwrights for his ability to capture the human experience in all its beauty and ugliness, frailty and strength. Theater has lost a truly great man.

Ice Water For Blood

Why are we crusading against evil abroad when we haven't begun to defeat it here? Thankfully this newborn baby survived being tossed out the window of a moving car by its parents, and this teenaged girl escaped from the room where she was being held prisoner for over a year by her father and his girlfriend.

There really are good arguments for sterilization/castration. My mind clouds with white hot rage when I read some of these stories.

Thankfully the victims in both cases survived, though who knows what the long term effects will be?

Illustration Friday

I have decided to give Illustration Friday a try. I refuse to commit to it on a regular basis, but will occasionally give it a shot.

This week's challenge was Year of the Rooster. This really was a challenge, as I don't particularly care for roosters. I toyed with different approaches but in the end chose to idealize one. It looks like a messed-up duck, but what can you do? Here's my submission:

For My Readers, With Love

While fruitlessly looking in a box from the attic for documentation that proves my paternity, I came across all sorts of things from my distant past. There were old letters, address books, school papers dating as far back as middle school, a journal from my freshman year of college (which I set aside to read later) and most rewarding of all, ancient creative writing attempts dating back to around 8th grade.

They're terrible!!!

I had tears of mirth rolling down my cheeks as I read excerpts of romantic moments. I could hardly read I was laughing so hard at my ignorant attempts at a love scene. I defied Randy to do what a man does in one of my short stories: kiss me and breathe hotly on my neck at the same time. And why would I want hot breath on my neck anyway? At best, it tickles. At worst, it's kind of creepy. :0P Don't bother asking for the full text; I threw those away.

I also went through a period at that time where I was writing the anti-fairy tale. I was tired of the stories always ending happily when real life so seldom did. I remember there was one story that reversed the Beauty and Beast tale a bit, so that she chose to be ugly and only ugly creatures were allowed in their kingdom. This was long before Shrek, and is probably in part why I enjoyed that movie so much. I didn't find that story among the others however. After much consideration- after all, who likes humiliation?- I decided to share the one anti-fairy tale I found in the box. It's not very original until the end, so bear with. I figure: What the heck? We all need a good laugh sometimes, and my loyal readers deserve a break. So if you choose to follow the extended message, you will find my silly little tale. It's not long; it's one typewritten (on a typewriter, no less!) page. Please note the peasant's priorities when making wishes. This was not done intentionally, and being far older now I find it hilarious. Am I wrong in supposing this would be the natural inclination of a lot of men, leaving sex out of the equation of course? Read on, if you dare...

Untitled Tale

THE END

Screwed Over?

The inheritance plans fell through. When my aunt checked with the lawyer, he said that she needed to backtrack a bit.

First of all, my father left no will. In this state it means that his widow would get half of the estate, and any children would divide the rest up equally among themselves. However my father and his wife had a prenup which clearly stated she was entitled to nothing. My aunt, acting as administratrix for the estate, settled with the widow who was suing the estate. My father owed her money, and she was paid. Then she disappeared with her brand-new(?) boyfriend not 6 months after my father's death. Lovely.

Most of my father's possessions and properties have gone to pay outstanding debts. My four half-sisters wanted the house in which they grew up, and James and I agreed they should have it. As I recently stated, the bar and its accompanying house was to be divided between James and I as our share. Not now. It seems that it wouldn't be legal. First, James and I have to prove that we are our father's children, according to the lawyer. James' mother was angry with our father and by the time James was born, had married someone else. Out of spite, she named her new husband as James' father. To compound the difficulties, either he or her next husband adopted James. He has a complicated legal battle ahead of him to prove who his real father is.

In my case, my mother was also furious with my father when I was born. It would seem he was charming when you met him but less so as time went on, wouldn't it? Perhaps the colossal amount of drugs he was doing back then had something to do with it. Anyway, when I was born my mother had them leave the "father" portion of my birth certificate blank. So now I, too, must prove that I am my father's daughter. He was cremated and my aunt is having trouble locating a doctor who might have a DNA sample lying around. I suggested that James and I have our DNA compared to our sisters' to prove who we are, since the word of our father and his family isn't enough for the courts. The sisters were all born to our father and his second wife, so there is no doubt about their legitimacy. To be clear, the family has no doubt that James and I are his children. He openly acknowledged us to one and all. But for the purposes of the court, we are not considered his children at the present time. It seems I may have to speak with a lawyer of my own, which is something I have absolutely no funds for. On that matter, I'm feeling tired, fed-up and a little defeated.

As to having to prove that I am his child, on one hand I can understand it. I know where the law is coming from. But on a personal level, this is painful and I am angry. Which pretty much sums up my entire relationship with the man.

Parents can be an awful lot of trouble sometimes, can't they?

My father led a colorful life, and it's up to the rest of us to pay for it. :0P

Announcement, and Now (Reluctantly) Reading

The company who hosts this site has splintered into two companies, and I am in the process of transferring my account and upgrading my site. Hopefully there will be little or no downtime, but if there is, you'll know why and that I'll be back soon. :0)

On another note, I finished reading Scoundrel- by Bernard Cornwell- late last night/early this morning. The book caused me to dream about the IRA 3 times. I wouldn't say they were nightmares, but they were certainly uncomfortable. I love thrillers and can understand why this one was given to me for my birthday, but I think in the end it is more of a man's book in terms of perspective. I couldn't really like the protagonist, though at times I wanted to. It was slow at first, but as I approached the end I stayed up later than I had planned because I was finally caught up in it. If the climax lacked a little oomph, still it was a good story and I'm not sorry I read it.

I'm about to start Light On Snow and am trying not to feel resentful of that fact. It was loaned to me by the same friend who asked me to read In Her Shoes. She and a mutual friend seem to have ganged up on me now and are heaping a To Be Read Next pile on me that I'm finding a bit obnoxious. First of all, I am more than capable of finding books to read on my own. I still have plenty to get to without their interference. Secondly, their taste is not quite the same as mine. While these books are ok, I would probably pass them by and not miss them. Finally, I have always hated to be told what to do, especially when it comes to reading.

I tried to be tactful and gently let them know that I don't need their help to find good reading material; I have plenty to read already! I don't think they listened to me though. "Oh, but this next one is short and will take you no time to read." said dismissively. OR "You'll love it. I just know you'll get sooo much out of it!"

Give me a break. Please.

How Did They Get Here?

Which is the stranger story: the father who is now seeking a restraining order against a neighbor over the cookie incident in which his daughter took part, or the young man who bet his balls on a rugby match and honored the bet when he lost?

If I am to be honest I must admit that upon reading these stories my initial reaction was to laugh. But the more I thought about it, the more sad I found these stories when considering the emotional subtext of these situations, not to mention the physical ramifications for the man in the second story!

Though the situations they find themselves in now may border on the absurd, I can't help but feel that they each deserve to be pitied a little. There is more going on here, especially in the latter case, than is seen on the surface of the matter.

Challenges

When I was in junior high in Texas, I took a wonderful Outdoor Education course with the coolest teacher. He and his wife would get together with a friend of theirs and take us on weekend trips. We went canoeing on Caddoe Lake- some of you Arkansans may have heard of it as it's near the border- and we went rock climbing outside Lawton, OK. The rock climbing trips were my favorites. Unfortunately all the photos I took are at my mother's house, so none to share with you tonight.

Life is so full of mental, emotional and metaphysical challenges so it's nice to have a physical one to tackle. I loved the challenge of skimming my fingers along the rock surface to find a grip, or wedging my body in a "chimney" and easing my way up, or "jam-cracking" by sliding my hand in a crevice sideways, turning it and making a fist to use as leverage to pull myself up by. It was me and the rock face and the sky. And of course the teacher on belay! *G* The best part of all though was getting to the top, looking around, and then rapelling back down! I loved the rush of easing myself over the lip of the cliff. So terrifying and exhilarating at the same time!

I so wish that I was able to go climbing again, but it doesn't appear to be something I will be able to do anymore. Tonight I was reading about ice climbing. I want to go!!! It looks like so much fun, doesn't it?

I think I have winter cabin fever. I think I need to splurge soon and hire a personal trainer for an hour to come up with an exercise program I can do to help me stop dwelling on the things I can't. I slung four articles of clothing over the arm with the injured wrist yesterday and carried them this way for an hour. Only four articles of clothing, and today I am in so much pain I'm wearing my wrist brace for the first time in months. So I need and want to do something; I just need to be wise about it.

Post-Christmas Christmas Party

Spent the day shopping in frustration. Nobody had the sort of dress one would wear to such an occasion. I'm sure you men know just what I'm talking about. BTW, there were a lot of men being dragged around the clothing stores by their women today, visibly impatient. I don't blame them. After an hour of "What do you think about these shoes?" or "Does this make me look fat?" I would be going insane too. I never put Randy through the torture of shopping with me. I'm simply not that cruel.

I bought a buff-colored suede tulip skirt with two different tops, one to dress up and one to dress down for ordinary occasions. The idea was to wear said articles with brown leather high-heeled calf boots I already own. I got home, tried them on together, and it looked ridiculous. The boots weren't quite as high up the leg as needed, and I lacked suitable shoes. I had one hour to get ready and had to improvise. I wore a new periwinkle-blue crepe blouse with slacks and heels. I'm sure all of that fascinated you.

Moving on.

The company has many branches around the western half of the state, so we have to drive about an hour to get to the selected central location where the party is held. Since people drink, the company provided transportation (minivans) and designated drivers for each store's employees. Randy was the DD for this one. So we drove down with a couple of teenagers and a contemporary of Randy's who acts like a teen. It was pretty funny, actually. One of the kids is good friends with my brother and I know him outside of the store, so that was cool. He's hilarious, though he didn't wear a dress and heels, or dye his hair blue as he had said he would last year for this event. Oh well. I amused myself by throwing hor d'oeuvres at him once we were at the party. He would pick them up from whatever place they landed and eat them anyway. Kids. Anyway, other staff drove themselves to the party, and we had a pretty good turnout from our area.

An AA acquaintance of mine recently started working at the store and was there tonight. She's still fairly new to the program and decided to sit with me. We had a good time. I'm glad I went to the party; she told me she was relieved that I was there. I felt comfortable there for the first time. Sheesh, it's only taken me 10 years of going to these things to feel as though I belonged among them. My friend looked lost and reminded me of me when I first started coming to these events! She unwound as the night wore on, though.

I can't believe how stupefyingly boring this entry is. Would it help if I mentioned that the items I threw at that kid were pepperoni slices, marracino cherries and lemon wedges? No? Didn't think so.

I have a headache and am heading to bed. Goodnight all!

Just Some Randomness

Was a program on Super Bowl commercials really better programming than the show Joan of Arcadia, which it pre-empted?

Afghani= unit of money in Afghanistan
Afghan= citizen of Afghanistan.
The constant confusion of this nation's people with its currency is a pet peeve of mine. It occurred to me just now, however, that this confusion is perhaps telling.

My "baby" brother Drew is a Type I diabetic who, for various reasons, doesn't take good care of himself. This breakthrough in diabetes research gives me some hope. I printed it out to show to him and to our mother.

'Child torture' couple arrested. Good.

Rice is a dish best served boiled. Or fried.

I have to buy a dress today to go to a company party with my husband tonight. I have to spend money on a dress I'll rarely ever wear again to go to a function I don't want to attend. But the food should be good and my husband is receiving his 10 yr. pin. This is their Christmas party, which was postponed due to weather. This was the earliest replacement they could book. Time to turn on the shmooze.

I hate the shmooze.

I once knew a guy named Shmoo.

Not really. It was his nickname. But still.

I have a lot of questions that all boil down to "Why?" "Because" is not an acceptable answer.

If a tree falls in the forest, was it a Redwood?

The environment, global warming and endangered animals.

I'm leaving you now.

Gorgeous Graffiti

I'm going to bypass the sorry state of the world tonight and highlight something beautiful instead. Wall art is popping up in Iraq and it's worth a look. Their graffiti is so much nicer than ours, don't you think?

Immature Aravis on Address

I was at my meeting tonight and so missed most of the State of the Union address. I caught maybe 15 minutes of it, and of course the comments afterwards. Here are the (admittedly juvenile) thoughts I had, which I shared with Randy, the pets and whichever government agency is assigned to listen in on our house this week:

First I wished that I had one of those televisions that you can write on and dry-erase. It would have been so much fun to draw horns and "666" on Cheney's bald pate.

Which led to the next thought: Was Cheney selected as vice-president as a sort of anti-assassination insurance policy, much as Quayle was for Bush the Elder? I mean really, who would want to take out the president when that's the alternative? Bush is certainly safe from me, other than my ongoing diatribes against him and his policies, of course.

Moving on I rapidly noticed that every time Bush paused, people stood up and clapped. Were they really so pleased that he managed to complete a sentence without screwing it up? Did they think he was finished? Or were all of their seats wired so that a man hiding in a balcony could periodically zap their bottoms with the push of a button, launching them out of the seats and/or stupor? Or all of the above?

As the camera panned over the crowd, I kind of wanted to sneak among them and poke the occasional person with an electric cattle prod. BTW, for those feeling outraged with me, please note that this urge was quite bipartisan. I just wanted to stir them up at a time other than when Bush completed a sentence correctly.

Finally (in more ways than one), after the address was over Brian Williams was interviewing people for NBC, getting their reactions to Iraq and Social Security, etc. Williams uttered my favorite line of the night when he asked a young Moderate "Do you like his package?"

I almost fell off the couch laughing.

I have such a filthy mind sometimes.

Psych!

Residents of Connecticut were ordered to evacuate the state today. Really. Read the story, it's too funny. Good thing I wasn't watching TV or listening to the radio this afternoon, eh? *G*

BTW, the final line is misleading. News and radio programs were flooded with calls, and 911 received an estimated 50 calls as well.

Bittersweet

I'm feeling a little melancholy today, but only a little.

They are wrapping up my father's estate, and it would seem that the bar and the house adjacent will fall to my paternal half-brother and myself. This is funny, because I'm a recovering alkie and he is a recovering alkie and addict. I had some warning that this might be how things worked out. I've spent time wondering what I would do with the bar and property, located on a back road almost hidden in the woods. I daydreamed of landscaping the yard to make it into a kid-friendly park (the parking lot is vast, so there's plenty of room for this) and turning the bar into a family restaurant or coffeehouse. The more I though of it I felt that bringing AA into it somehow might be nice. Large cities have AA clubhouses where people can always find a meeting or someone to talk to. I wished that I had the money to do this with the property. It was a nice fantasy.

Until yesterday. My aunt, who is acting as administratrix of the estate, called to let me know that one of my cousins- also in AA- would like to buy the property with her boyfriend Bill- again, in the program *LOL*- and turn the house into a sober house, the bar into an AA clubhouse. A sober house is owned by someone in the program who rents out rooms to people who are also clean and sober who need a safe environment as they transition back into the real world, usually after leaving a rehab. Locals have already offered to help landscape the property and help with fixing the place up for its new purpose. They need to apply for a loan, and they needed our permission (James' and mine) to go forward. James and I both gave it. We will hold the mortgage and they will pay us every month until the debt is paid off. The property is to be used in precisely the way in which I would have wanted. I really hope this goes through and everything works out. I know it's what my father would have liked as well. He was tired of that life and of watching what people do to themselves. He spoke to me more than once of wanting to get out of the business, but never felt that he could. If all goes well, here's his hard work turned to something he would be proud of.

So I feel happy and a little sad too. Today I received a phone call telling me that Greta's ashes were finally available for me to pick up. They put the ashes in a decorative tin, and I sat on the couch when I got home with the tin in my lap. Sam, our male dog, came over and started sniffing at it eagerly, and then he gave it a few slow laps with his tongue. I wouldn't have thought he would be able to smell her, but it really seemed as though he did. He has been subdued ever since. As have I.

Here I sit, thinking about those I have loved and lost, feeling sadness because they're gone but gratitude and joy for having loved and been loved by them in return.

What Rights?

If this is true then this country is going to hell, and it's likely all of our faults.

It seems so odd to me, because when I was in school an entire year was dedicated to Civics, and the Constitution was given more than a day's worth of discussion. I believe we spent three days on its text. More on discussion of what it all meant.

School budgets are shrinking and administrations have to decide what to keep (the football and basketball teams) and what to throw away(the arts and PE). I know in every small town around here the budget is hotly debated and whittled down as much as possible, and that is why I say it is the fault of all of us when these programs are cut. We want our children educated, but we don't want to pay for it.

So our children don't understand what the First Amendment is. I don't really believe that they feel rights should be more restricted; teens are the first to cause a fuss when they think their rights are being violated. But if they aren't educated on the Constitution, I am truly afraid for the future of this country.

PS- the parenthetical remarks made above reflect what this country typically chooses to keep and give away, and do not reflect the programs I would have chosen personally.