Samhain 2011

First, going into the Winter holiday season, may I have a quick word? Thanks. There's something I need to get off my chest about Paganism: it is an actual and for real religion. It is not "spiritual, but not religious." It is not enlightened agnosticism. It is not merely a rejection of Christianity. It is more than an acknowledgement of the interconnectedness of the world and all parts of it.

All of those things are wonderful, and I am not putting them down. They are not, however, Paganism ~ or Wicca, or Druidism, or Shamanism, or any of the other Pagan paths. Paganism has a creed and tenets and beliefs you must follow in order to be Pagan. An' ye harm none, do what ye will is pretty damn tough to actually live out. "Harm" is a lot more open ended than just "don't be an ass." "None" means, well, none. The people you like; the people you don't like; people you don't even know; yourself. None is everybody. And there's nothing about intention in there, either. Did you notice? "But I didn't mean to..." isn't an acceptable excuse. There's little vague or undefined here. And that just scratches the surface.

I get that calling oneself Pagan (or Wiccan or a Druid or, or, or...) is sexy and interesting and a little edgy. And if you know me at all you know I am keen on sexy and interesting and a little edgy. Just please...learn about this religion before you claim to follow it. Otherwise, find another way to be sexy and interesting and a little edgy. I'll totally support that.

Meanwhile...

Lithus likes sherry

I prefer white wine

All Hallow's Eve ~ Welcome to our home!

Blessed Be, my friends.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #4

Say it with me: Are you fucking kidding me????


First, I will give you this:


And then, because you know Dr. Pepper is gonna start yanking that shit, I'll give you this:


Do I have to spell out all the ways this is offensive? To women, and yes, let's be honest, to men. The Facebook page? What the fuck are you thinking, Snapple Ad People?????

Look, there are differences between genders. Denying that isn't helpful. But to handle those differences in such a vilifying way is reprehensible and, especially in today's already divisive atmosphere, indefensible.

I get they're trying to make a joke. I just don't find it funny.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

20,000 Hours

Somewhere along the line last month, quietly, unobtrusively, and without any fanfare, Lithus passed 20,000 hours total flight time. For those of us not actively involved in aviation, trust me, this is a rare feat at any point in a career. To do it with 15 years of flying time still ahead of him is unheard of crazy.  And this morning, my dear, sweet Lithus looks over at me and says, "Oh...by the way..."

Hamming it up for the camera

Yeah, my baby's a stud.

Those are proud Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Disappointment and Other Angsty-ness

Note ~ This is a poorly written journal entry, far more than it is a blog post. I need to be vague enough that writing well or eloquently is hampered, but, goddammit, it's my blog and I want to write about this, so I'm doing so. Even if it's vague and poorly written. That beats censored.  Which brings us to...

Disappointment is a hard issue for me. I try very hard not to be disappointed in people. It strikes me as a particularly judgemental, and inevitably hypocritical, emotion. Also, I have had people disappointed in me before and, while sometimes, yes, deservedly so, often...not so much. Generally, my response to people being disappointed in me has been and fuck you, too. I don't live my life for other people; I try to make the best choices I can in the moment; and am, more often than not, pretty consistent. In other words, if you end up disappointed in me, that probably says more about you than about me. Not always. I am far from perfect. But generally? Yeah, I'll give it "generally."

Which is why when I find myself disappointed in people, I struggle with it. Who the hell am I to expect them to live their lives, make their choices, choose their path, based on what I think they should be doing? Especially when the choices they are making are the choices I have every reason, based on past experience, to expect them to make. And yet...there are times when I still find myself disappointed. In this instance, I've had certain people say certain things, lead me to believe ~ in other words have reason to expect ~ certain things and then...*poof* Maybe that's it. In these instances, these people have lead me to believe something would be different, and then it hasn't been different. It's been the same old song.

Would it be easier if these people acknowledged that what I had been told to expect wasn't going to happen? Perhaps, but not necessarily. At least then I wouldn't struggle with trust on top of struggling with disappointment. Maybe I need to simply accept that, with these people, they want to be different, they want to make these changes, even to the point of telling me they will ~ but they won't. Would it be easier for me to just learn and accept that? Perhaps. But I'd still be struggling with disappointment so...*shrug* I don't know. I don't have all the answers.

I know I dislike myself when I am disappointed in someone. Yet, I also know I want to care enough and trust enough to have expectations of people, and when we have expectations, we can be disappointed. It's a Catch-22, I guess.

Those are angsty Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Signal Boost

A couple years ago, my friend, Lori, watched as her son deployed to Iraq.

At some point, he or his friends had Beanie Babies and ended up giving them to the kids surrounding the camp...or the convoy...or...something. I should know the details, but I don't. It didn't seem all that important at the time it was happening, honestly. Just a quick mention from Brian to his mom. His mom, being a superhero in disguise living here among us mere mortals, happened to put the word out that if anyone had any Beanies, they were wonderful ambassadors for the soldiers in Brian's unit and she'd send them over, for them to hand out. We did. She did. They did. Word got out...

This thing has exploded. Toys For Troops in now incorporated, for cripe's sake. Lori's mailing list has moved so far beyond Brian's unit. While, yes, they absolutely still send Beanies, now they also send care packages for the soldiers themselves, especially at the holidays (which, in case you hadn't noticed, we're approaching rapidly).

So, if you are looking for a creative and unusual way to support the troops this season, you are so in luck. It's time for the annual Toys For Troops Spaghetti Dinner Fund Raiser! The dinner is free. The raffle is the fundraising part.

The event itself takes place in Illinois. To my knowledge, none of my usual readers are anywhere close to Illinois (well, except for Lori, of course, but she already knows about this so...digressing...). Do Not Let This Deter You, People! Not all of the raffle items are local. Some of the ones I'm drooling over?

• a nook ereader. Seriously, folks. A freaking NOOK.
• $600 worth of Sephora cosmetics
• Cabot cheese gift pack

And these aren't the only non-Illinois-y winnings; just the ones I want the most. You don't have to be present to win, even. For all the details, and to enter the raffle online, go here: Toys for Troops Fundraiser Also, you can find information about donating raffle items (still not too late); getting a soldier onto the mailing list; "adopting" a soldier off of the mailing list; and donating items for the care packages.

Know something else ~ Lori doesn't make a cent off of this. Everything that is donated goes directly to the cause. Purchasing, packaging, and postage. That's it. Hell, she doesn't even use donations to buy the spaghetti fixins (full disclosure, this year the spaghetti was donated, but that hasn't always been the case ~ and she still didn't reimburse herself for the costs).

I just realized, I'm going on and on about this, but you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm proud of my friend and what she'd done and doing. I'm proud of her son. I'm proud she calls me her friend, too. So, yeah, going on and on a little. Click on that link. See what you can do. If you've ever wanted fifty cents to be valued as if it was fifty grand, this is the place to go.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. These are my friends.

That and a buck fifty will get you spaghetti, a big hug, and a raffle ticket...and of course, coffee.

Twitterish Tweety

My Boston apartment is for sale. My Worcester apartment is for rent. Both of these things are happening right now. Oh...such a masochist...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Lessons from the Weekend

* Just because you put vodka in your magarita mix doesn't mean anyone else in the world does. You were drinking tequila.
* It's very possible the woman you think doesn't like you because you slaughtered her language last time you met is actually just shy and afraid you don't like her because she slaughtered your language last time you met. Reach out again. There could be hugs.
* ZhuZhu pets are still cool, even though they've been out for a few years. Crayons are, and always will be, still cool.
* Certain levels of happiness cannot be faked. When you find those, hang on to them.
* A fabulous hat is never inappropriate.
* Grown up birthdays are great. Kids' birthdays are better.

* Leftover carne is delicious. Left over homemade salsa is also delicious. They have both had time to marinate. They are both spicier than they were when they were fresh. Next time, remember this before you take that first, big bite.
* Even Sandpoint, Idaho has standards.

At the Sandpoint mall.

In the window of the Paris Hair Designs and School of Poise

Those are wiser, lesson learned Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Little Happies

There is a lot happening in the world these days. In my personal world, the US, the entire global community. It has been very easy to lose sight of some of the little things that bring happiness. Things like...

1. The Sing-Off is online. For those of you who don't know, The Sing-Off is an a cappella musical competition. Some of the most amazing groups I have heard, singing modern, current music, with nothing to back them up but each other. And, since we have almost no television here in Coolin ~ no, not even the Original Three from the olden days ~ having it available online is a lovely, lovely treat.

2. Low clouds over the lake and mountains. Honestly, this is a mixed kinda thing. Low clouds also have the potential of grounding Lithus and, if Lithus isn't flying, we aren't making money. But oh my friends...low clouds over the lake and mountains are so beautiful.

3. New clothes. I've spent a lot of time in the bush, both in Alaska and now here in Idaho. Living in the Alaskan bush doesn't lend itself, particularly, to city clothes. What I remembered recently was that I bopped around helibases and air strips for years in my ordinary, every day, citified clothes before we moved to Alaska. I wore dress pants and leopard print pumps, skirts and bangles, capris and high heeled wedges and never thought twice. They were my clothes and I wore them. We don't live in the Alaskan bush any longer. I have new clothes. I have cool, beautiful, citified clothes. I have high heels to go with them. Accessories, I wear them. Lithus looked at me the other day, smiled, and said "I know you." Yeah. It's good to be back.

4. Muffins. Actually, that should be muffin, singular. Earlier this week, I mentioned to Lithus that I was craving muffins but that I really didn't want to make an entire batch of them because I knew one would do. But there isn't exactly a bakery on every corner up here. A couple days later, Lithus had had to drive into town. He brought me home a muffin.

5. We decorated for Autumn this year. We are in one place, long enough, with enough disposable income to decorate. I have a cluster of gourds on my table and another on a wall shelf. There are candles. And of course, the lake itself out our window. It's not much; it's enough.

Little reasons to be happy. I'll take 'em.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Banned Book Week

Banned Book Week runs from September 24, 2011 to October 1, 2011 (I know; don't blame me, I don't set the dates or name the thing!). According to the American Library Association, these are the most banned or challenged books of the last decade:

1. Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling
2. Alice series, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
3. The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier
4. And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
5. Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
6. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
7. Scary Stories (series), by Alvin Schwartz
8. His Dark Materials (series), by Philip Pullman
9. ttyl; ttfn; l8r g8r (series), by Myracle, Lauren
10. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
11. Fallen Angels, by Walter Dean Myers
12. It’s Perfectly Normal, by Robie Harris
13. Captain Underpants (series), by Dav Pilkey
14. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
15. The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
16. Forever, by Judy Blume
17. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
18. Go Ask Alice, by Anonymous
19. Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
20. King and King, by Linda de Haan
21. To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
22. Gossip Girl (series), by Cecily von Ziegesar
23. The Giver, by Lois Lowry
24. In the Night Kitchen, by Maurice Sendak
25. Killing Mr. Griffen, by Lois Duncan
26. Beloved, by Toni Morrison
27. My Brother Sam Is Dead, by James Lincoln Collier
28. Bridge To Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson
29. The Face on the Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney
30. We All Fall Down, by Robert Cormier
31. What My Mother Doesn’t Know, by Sonya Sones
32. Bless Me, Ultima, by Rudolfo Anaya
33. Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson
34. The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big, Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
35. Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging, by Louise Rennison
36. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
37. It’s So Amazing, by Robie Harris
38. Arming America, by Michael Bellasiles
39. Kaffir Boy, by Mark Mathabane
40. Life is Funny, by E.R. Frank
41. Whale Talk, by Chris Crutcher
42. The Fighting Ground, by Avi
43. Blubber, by Judy Blume
44. Athletic Shorts, by Chris Crutcher
45. Crazy Lady, by Jane Leslie Conly
46. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
47. The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby, by George Beard
48. Rainbow Boys, by Alex Sanchez
49. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey
50. The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
51. Daughters of Eve, by Lois Duncan
52. The Great Gilly Hopkins, by Katherine Paterson
53. You Hear Me?, by Betsy Franco
54. The Facts Speak for Themselves, by Brock Cole
55. Summer of My German Soldier, by Bette Green
56. When Dad Killed Mom, by Julius Lester
57. Blood and Chocolate, by Annette Curtis Klause
58. Fat Kid Rules the World, by K.L. Going
59. Olive’s Ocean, by Kevin Henkes
60. Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson
61. Draw Me A Star, by Eric Carle
62. The Stupids (series), by Harry Allard
63. The Terrorist, by Caroline B. Cooney
64. Mick Harte Was Here, by Barbara Park
65. The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
66. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, by Mildred Taylor
67. A Time to Kill, by John Grisham
68. Always Running, by Luis Rodriguez
69. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
70. Harris and Me, by Gary Paulsen
71. Junie B. Jones (series), by Barbara Park
72. Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
73. What’s Happening to My Body Book, by Lynda Madaras
74. The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold
75. Anastasia (series), by Lois Lowry
76. A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving
77. Crazy: A Novel, by Benjamin Lebert
78. The Joy of Gay Sex, by Dr. Charles Silverstein
79. The Upstairs Room, by Johanna Reiss
80. A Day No Pigs Would Die, by Robert Newton Peck
81. Black Boy, by Richard Wright
82. Deal With It!, by Esther Drill
83. Detour for Emmy, by Marilyn Reynolds
84. So Far From the Bamboo Grove, by Yoko Watkins
85. Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes, by Chris Crutcher
86. Cut, by Patricia McCormick
87. Tiger Eyes, by Judy Blume
88. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
89. Friday Night Lights, by H.G. Bissenger
90. A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L’Engle
91. Julie of the Wolves, by Jean Craighead George
92. The Boy Who Lost His Face, by Louis Sachar
93. Bumps in the Night, by Harry Allard
94. Goosebumps (series), by R.L. Stine
95. Shade’s Children, by Garth Nix
96. Grendel, by John Gardner
97. The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende
98. I Saw Esau, by Iona Opte
99. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume
100. America: A Novel, by E.R. Frank

Taking a trick from my friend, Denny's, hat, I've bolded the ones I've read. Which have you read? A list of the top 100 classic banned/challenged books of the last century can be found here. I've read a lot of these, as well, but not nearly enough. How about you?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a little taste of civil disobedience and dissent.

Birthday Thoughts

A couple days ago, I met a man who asked if I was 33, 34 years old. Since I am within days of my 42 birthday, I promptly fell in love with him.


Last winter, I officially asked Lithus for a new tattoo for my birthday. Given the fact that we are nowhere near a tattoo that doesn't involve homemade ink and a sewing needle, I think that will have to wait. Anyway...


Once I started looking at the Republican candidates for their party's presidential nominee, I changed my request to Canadian citizenship. Or at least the paperwork filled out that will take me one step closer, just in case.


Realistically, I've told him I'll be happy with a nicely scented salt scrub and new fuzzy pink slippers. Seriously, when can you ever go wrong getting me bath products and fuzzy pink slippers. Never, I say. Never!





Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee. Everything else here is gonna cost a little more.

It Is The BOSTON Pobble, After All

Seven ways to tell I'm getting homesick...

7. I watch reruns of Cheers, Boston Public, and Being Human (but no, not Ally McBeal; I have some standards, even when homesick).
6. My ringtone gets changed over to the Dropkick Murphys
5. These apples are okay, but not nearly as good as the ones from the North Shore
4. This southern girl starts saying "cah" and "quahta."
3. The air I'm breathing seems way too clean to be healthy.
2. It's Autumn in New England.

And the number one way to know I'm getting homesick?

1. Four grand seems a perfectly reasonable rent on a one bedroom apartment, given its proximity to Copley Square...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Nuances

or DADT Is Repealed, Hooray for LGB...Oh...

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, as truly thrilling as the repeal of DADT is ~ and it is ~ there are nuances that many people aren't catching. First, for all the Vermont marriages taking place between servicepeople and their civilian partners, the military still doesn't recognize them as anything other than "very good friends" or "long time companion" because the Defense Of Marriage Act is still in effect. So, yes, the lesbian or gay service member can finally, finally, serve openly and TTG for it. But they and their spouses cannot yet live on post, in family housing; the civilian spouse still doesn't count as a military dependent; still won't be brought to a wounded soldier's side in the worse case scenario. And, yes, I personally believe this is different from not being allowed in a hospital emergency room. That's bad enough. But to not be able to be at the side of your soldier? The man or woman who is risking their life for a country that just today deigned to think they were worthy of doing so? It's a different horror and it needs to be respected as such.

Also, if you pay really close attention, the politicians are speaking about gays and lesbians serving openly. This is not a short cut because LGBT is too long or too weighted or too whatever. This is intentional. This is because gays, lesbians, and bisexuals can now serve openly in the military but a transgendered soldier will still be ousted, should they be outted. And I have nothing more coherent to say about that.

Celebrate. Jump up and down. Sing. Pray. Get drunk and have hot monkey sex. Whatever it is that you do to celebrate when something really monumental happens, do it. Today is worth it. But know that the Transgender American Veterans' Association (TAVA) has requested all who are celebrating also take a moment of silence to acknowledge not everyone got their rights today. Know that DOMA limits just how sweeping this is. Know that tomorrow, there is work to still be done.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Dribs and Drabs

• Tomorrow marks the end of DADT! On the one hand, timely, past timely. On the other, so long as DOMA is still in effect, really only half the battle. This is one of the places where I think the debate in favor of same sex marriage not only should take place, but must take place.
• I've discovered a love for old school calisthenics. Push ups, jumping jacks, planks, squats, shadow boxing...I love 'em all. Who would've guessed?
• There is a new phone. Bless Lithus's heart, he so wants me to have a smart phone. Or at least a flip phone. Or a slidey phone. Or something. The thing is, though, I am hard of hearing. Pretty distinctly so. And the more a phone does besides just be a phone, the less phone-like qualities it has. So, yes, there is a new phone. It's another $15 Go Phone and I can hear quite well through it, thank you very much. Mind you, sending Nemeria a single line text this morning took five whole minutes because none of the extras are the same as I'm used to but hey ~ I can hear.
• Check this out: Middle Child Press. They are a new epub house created to get women of color published. While it is a travesty that we still need such a house, we do, so let's support it!
• I'm thinking about starting an ongoing segment over at Stilettos In The Outback entitled "Carnivale." Now, more than ever, Lithus and I have indeed run away with the carnival. There is a core group of people who work for this new company and we move from place to place. While it's not actually a caravan ~ or hasn't been yet ~ we all end up in the same place, share food or booze or look after the kids or each other. And maybe that's all that needs to be said about it; maybe it will become something. It's an amazing experience though, this carnivale I've joined, and worthy of noting.
• An introduction, of sorts...If you look over at my links, there on the left, you'll see a few new names: Authentic Life, where Bill writes about life and writing and Boston and family and yes, trying to be authentic in an often inauthentic world (and did I mention Boston?); and Reporting Live, where Paria writes about love and pain and success and failure and keeping on and reaching goals ~ all with a poignant sense of self. Also, J Byrd, if you're still reading, I can't comment on your blog and I want to! Any thoughts on how to finagle that?
• We bought a car. In Alaska, we were driving a cherry red firebird. It was completely and totally irresponsible and oh so fun. We knew, however, that we couldn't do that again. This time, we really needed a bush vehicle. We researched and set out looking for Durangos. We're now the proud owners of a 2002 Land Rover. At least it's not a sportscar, right?
• In spite of the carnival, I'm back to watching television and movies set in northeast cities just to go dreamy eyed over the exterior shots. Apparently, it's been a long time since I've been home.
• ETA: How Did I Not Know This???? Talbots has a petite plus size section. And their models are actually and for real plus sized. No shit. Because not all of us who are petite are size 2s. And some of us ~ I know, this is daring ~ still want quality clothing. Demanding, short, zaftig women that we are.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #3A

Because I missed post #2 by accident and laziness.

I want to clarify something. I am not anti-Republican. I am not anti-conservative. When speaking with Lithus, I frequently refer to "conservative but sane" meaning I am infinitely okay with disagreeing with someone's politics so long as they are not insane. Want an example?


This person is not crazy:


I may disagree with him on many instances (and I do), however, his facts actually are facts; he is educated in reality. If he ever gets into the White House, I won't feel as if I have to leave the country.


This person is crazy:


I have informed Lithus that I do not love him because of his Canadian citizenship however, should she get into the White House, his citizenship will definitely be an asset he brings to the table.

See? Not crazy; crazy. Disagreements, no problem; disagreements, and big problem. You and I can disagree. You can be conservative; I'm embracing my screaming liberalness. Just don't be crazy. Don't be uneducated. Think and learn and listen before you speak ~ or run for office ~ or vote.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

September 11th, Every Year

Every year on September 11th, I call the Grill Master. If you were to ask either of us, I'm not sure we could tell you why it is important for us to check in with each other this day; we only both know it is. In 2001, we weren't together; we didn't talk; we didn't catch up. The Divine M (his wife and my best friend, for those of you who are new-er here) and I spent many hours on the phone that day, but he and I didn't. And yet....

One year, on the anniversary, I was there, quite by accident. He and I spent the day quietly together. "In prayer and reflection" isn't a phrase that will ever be used for us, but it was as close to that as we will ever get. We didn't talk much but we didn't leave the room without the other often or for long, either. The shoulder clap and the eye contact-nod was common throughout the day. It was vintage Pobble-Grill Master and it felt right. It felt right enough that the next couple years, I was there on the anniversary intentionally. Somewhere during those years, it became important for us to check in when I couldn't be there.

This year was no different. It went like this:

Him: Hello, Boston.
Me: Hello, Grill Master. How the hell are you?
Him: As good as I can be. How you doing?
Me: 'Bout the same.
Him: Yeah. Where are you now? Idaho? Iowa?
Me: We're in Idaho. What the fuck am I doing in Idaho?
Him: Calling me, 'cause it's September 11th. That's what you're doing in Idaho.
Me: *sighs* Yeah. You know I love you, right?
Him: Ditto.
Me: I know.
Him: Yeah.
Me: Yeah.
Him (sadder): Yeah.
Me (sadder): Yeah.
Both: *sigh*
Me: You take care.
Him: Go, have as good a day as you can.
Me: You, too. And if I don't talk to you before, I'll talk to you in a year.
Him (laughing): Yeah!
Me: (laughing): Talk to you later.
Him: Later.

That was it. That was enough. We both said everything we needed to say and heard everything we didn't need to speak.

And that's why I love him and why I acknowledge this day with him, wherever I am.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

One of Those Moments

When Lithus is at work these days, he leaves his phone here at the hotel. He has absolutely no cell service where he is on the mountain and so the phone is just one more thing to keep track of while he's out. I spend the days ignoring it beeping and blooping and ringing. Today, however, I was deep in edits when it rang, scaring the crap out of me. Honestly, it was habit that got me up and looking at caller i.d. Where I saw Lithus's project manager was calling. The project manager who has access to Lithus. Or at least has access to Lithus's radio. Who has no reason to be calling Lithus's phone. No reason but one...


I'm quite proud to say I didn't panic.


And in fairness to Project Manager, he realized immediately what he did. It went like this:


Boston Pobble: Hello?
Project Manager: Oh...damn. I think I called the wrong Lithus. Is this Lithus the Pilot's phone?
BP: Yeah, it is PM.
PM: He's okay. I hit the wrong Lithus on my phone. He's fine.
BP: *nervous laughter* No worries. It happens.
PM: Looks like he's gonna be a out on the fire late tonight, too.
BP: Okay. Again, no worries.


Here's what I love, though ~ Project Manager has been around long enough that, as soon as he had confirmed his mistake, he knew what the first words out of his mouth had to be. And just like that, my heart's beating again.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #3

2009 wasn't the greatest year for me, in case you weren't aware. Lithus and I spent a lot of time under a rock, just trying to get by. By 2010, I was paying attention again but honestly, didn't think to go backwards and catch up. I looked up at what was happening currently and kept going. All of which is to say, this has just now come to my attention.

The Daily Show
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Now, I have done some research but haven't found anything more about this, which leads me to believe it just is what it is ~ and that none of these men lost their jobs over this issue. Which begs the question Dear God Why The Fuck NOT?????


If anyone knows of real, long lasting fall-out from this, please, let me know in the comments or via email. We've got another election coming up, people. Make sure you know who you're voting for.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Overreaction?

A few days ago, I posted that I had killed two spiders all by myself and before four in the morning (note to Bill ~ no, neither involved the urban legend, thank the Goddess, and that's all that's gonna be said about that!). There have been two more confirmed kills since then. I have, however, also taken to slamming the heels of heavy shoes down onto previously unseen stains on the carpet.

Ah well. Better safe than sorry.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #1

Since I am embracing my title of Screaming Liberal (while acknowledging, with respect, that it may not be quite as apropos down in the lower-48 where there are actual, you know, screaming liberals), I present to you the organization Turn Right USA. Not as a joke. Not with any kind of irony or eye rolling. They are serious. They are virulent and malicious. They are not joking.
Part of me doesn't even want to give them credit or dignify them with this much of an acknowledgment. More, though, I think it's important that we know these people are out here, these people have power, these people are having an impact. Knowledge is power. We have to stop this. I promise you, if you are reading this blog, there is a very good chance these people hate you. If you are reading this blog, there is a 100% chance they hate someone you care about.

If I just link the video, it will be removed due to copyright issues. Instead, here is the link to their page. From there, you need to (although I admit, you don't want to) click on the "our video" link in order to see the political attack ad they have created. It is not safe for work, for children, or for human consumption.

Those are screaming liberal Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Are You Kidding Me?

Let's be honest ~ as a culture, Americans hate the French. You may not; I may not. As a culture, Americans do. We've never, to my eyes, had a warm and fuzzy relationship with them but after they backed down from going into Iraq almost a decade ago, the attitude went from "not warm and fuzzy" to "as a culture, we hate the French." Remember "freedom fries" or "cheese eating surrender monkeys?" And don't try to tell me that was oh so long ago and we've moved on. It's not that we've moved on; it's that the hatred of the French has moved into the cultural consciousness to the point that we don't have to talk about it any longer. I know of at least one diner that still has "American Fries" on its menu. See?

And the diner was opened in the last 18 months, so you can't even tell me it's expensive to reprint menus once the supidity has worn off. It's a new menu, not a tattoo.


So...okay. Why am I talking about this? Because it seems the one thing Americans hate more than the French are black women. The accuser in the DSK rape case has been denied ... everything.

I've been keeping quiet about this because, even as her "character issues" came out, even as the media started talking about questions being raised, even as they released him from house arrest, the case was still moving forward. As of today, she has been denied everything.

Did she lie on her immigration forms? Sure. People smarter and more connected than I have said this is a fact. I will accept it as such. Did she react inappropriately immediately after the attack? This is up for debate, still, because what, exactly is "appropriate" in such situation. However, for the sake of arguement...fine. She didn't help her case in the moments immediately after the attack (*eye roll*).

So fucking what.

She is unreliable. She is a liar. She is a bad witness. She is imperfect.

So fucking what.

Her description of the attack has never wavered. DNA and physical evidence at the hotel point to the fact that something happened. The United States court system has said they don't care. None of this matters. She doesn't matter.

He is wealthy, internationally important, and white. She is...not. She should still matter. She does still matter. Taking him to trial would've been a travesty of justice? Perhaps it would've been. It wouldn't have been nearly the travesty of justice that not taking him to trial is.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Ps/ETA ~ Yes, I do believe this would be different if she was white. She would still be being raked over the coals. She would still be being called names. The court system would still be victim blaming. That comes with gender and misogyny. I also believe the case would've gone to court. The fact that it isn't, I lay directly at the feet of racism. Just to be clear.

A Day Worth Noting

I killed two ~ TWO ~ spiders, all by myself. One before four in the morning. Yeah, I'm a stud.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

National Aviation Day

Honored over here.

And a special shout out to GSH, too. ;)

Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ and Pobble Travels. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee, tea, or me...or something like that.

Dribs and Drabs

If you can't take being asked hard questions and not being allowed to set your own agenda when you are on a freaking talk show about being asked hard questions, you really shouldn't go into politics. Stop dishing it out if you can't take it.

*****

What is the allure of Kathy Lee Gifford? What am I missing? I find her to be ~ and have since her days with Regis ~ condescending, judgmental, and rude. Yet people love her. What don't I get?

*****

Have spent the last week working with the designer for my next book cover. Oh so very excited! Nothing more to say about it yet but you know I'll keep you posted.

*****

Our property manager in NOLA adores Lithus. I'm just as friendly as I know how to be; I get one line responses. He emails her and gets a tome, complete with emoticons. Oh so amused.

*****

When Lithus took this job, it was a contract gig with work through March and then we'd see. Based on the last two weeks of work, the project manager has signed contracts for another year worth of work. Ah, the smell of money...

*****

I could start a new blog just doing hotel reviews. I'm not because I'm already juggling two blogs and you know, my job writing. But I could. My first one would be that if you take a Travel Lodge, rename it, paint it black and red, add interesting outdoor lighting, and flatscreen televisions...it's still a Travel Lodge. A particularly unusual Travel Lodge, admittedly, but still a Travel Lodge nonetheless.

*****

Along those lines, think twice about staying at a hotel where along with toothbrushes and toothpaste and a comb, they offer complimentary ear plugs.

*****

Boxing, hula hoop and jumping rope combine for a kick ass workout.

*****

"Brain Eating Amoeba" are three of the scariest words ever.

*****

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Occupational Hazard

Part of living on the road is getting to stay in hotels. Some hotels are noteworthy for their denizens and flophouse-y-ness. Some are noteworthy for their utter and complete mediocrity and un-noteworthiness. Some, though...Some are like the Hotel Davenport.

Lithus and I spent last Friday night there. We needed to get out of the bush, needed some elegance and sophistication; needed to remember that a world that includes chamber music, room service, and valet is indeed still our world.

It was everything we needed, wanted, and hoped it would be. The room was spacious. There was actual and for real art on the walls. The bed was hand-carved. The bathroom was marble. Even the toilet paper was lux.

Check out the bed:

What you can't tell from this picture is the fact that, at 5'2", I had to step on the bed rail in order to get onto this thing with any kind of grace. It's massively tall. (See the art on the wall? Actual paint.)

Another part of life on the road is just how often you forget where you are. You'd be surprised how many times Lithus and I look at each other and ask "Where are we again?" The only question we ask more often is "What day is it today?" ~ but that's for another post.

Forgetting where you are isn't all that bad, so long as one of us can remember in short order. And luckily, I have never peed anywhere inappropriate, as I have heard tell of other people who live on the road. However, sometimes, you happen to be in, I don't know, let's say Spokane. And you happen to be getting a little *ahem* amorous. This is not the best time to forget where you are. Because when you jump up out of bed for a quick second, you will forget that you haven't just gotten into bed but have had to ascend into bed and you will fall out. You will also catch yourself with your calf. There will be laughter and unsexy snorting. And the next morning, you will get into the (marble, extra-large) shower and notice this:

A week out, it will still look like this:

But you know what? Forgetting where we are is part of the life I love and the Hotel Davenport is oh so worth it (did you see the bed???????).

Should you ever be in Spokane, Washington, even for just a night, stay at the Davenport. Request a Davenport Deluxe King. Just remember where you are. ;)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Gopher

The most recent big event here in Coolin, Idaho has been concern over if the horrible children who were staying at the hotel for the past few days had killed the resident gopher with a stick.

Lithus and I watched the kids ride by on their bikes last night and I pointed them out to him.

Me: Those are the kids who might've killed the gopher.
Lithus: With the stick?
Me: Yes.
Lithus: We hate them.
Me: Yes.
Lithus: Of course, if one of them fell off their bike and got hurt or something, we wouldn't just stand here, looking at them.
Me: Of course not. We'd point and laugh.

As of this afternoon, the gopher has been spotted. All is well here in Coolin, Idaho.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Theory v. Practice

Since leaving Vancouver and living on the road over two years ago now, I spend an outrageous amount of time alone or only with Lithus. Note, this is not in any way, shape, or form a complaint. We often remark upon how insane it is that we spend so much time just the two of us and continue to be quite content with that. However! There is not a lot of outside, mental stimulation.

Several days ago, I read an article about how to keep one's mind sharp and one's brain working at max capacity. It suggested different things, including crossword puzzles, suduko, and learning another language. Crosswords and suduko: Check. Learning another language: not check, exactly, but definitely something Lithus and I are working on.

Another suggestion was to perform simple activities with one's non-dominant hand. Eating, brushing teeth, signing your name. That's a good one. I can do that.

Or not...

In theory, it's an excellent idea. In practice, I can no longer get dressed before either eating or brushing my teeth without having to change shirts after both activities. *sigh* Maybe I'll start filling in my crossword puzzles with my left hand. At least it will save on the laundry bill.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

What's Wild

You know what's wild?

• That I carry a knife. And not just any knife. A big ol' freaking K-Bar.
• That I met one of my best friends working at a porn store and that just seeing pictures of him can make me tear up ~ eventhough it's been almost two years since I've seen him in person.
• That I have been in Anchorage, AK; Portland, OR; Salem, OR; Carson City, NV; Sacramento, CA; Tuscon, AZ; Alamagordo, NM; New Orleans, LA; Denver, CO; Coolin, ID; and Spokane, WA just in the last two months.
• That I have never even been in the same room with two of my closest friends.
• That I have outfitted an entire apartment via the internet, without once stepping into a store or talking to a real person.
• That we have ordered a sofa funky enough that the employees at a place called Funky Sofa are excited about it and want to put pictures of it on their website and blog.
• That, while not impossible, you still have to look really, really hard to find me online.
• That one of my most valued friendships happens to be with my mother's first boyfriend.
• That I still don't have Nemeria's mailing address memorized.

These are the things that have been rattling around the last couple of days and I thought I'd share.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Courtesy of Dr. B

Slowly giving up the idea that I am anything but a screaming liberal, regardless of what my screaming liberal friends think...



Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Breathing Again

Still not ready to make any grand pronouncements or promises. However, things are much, much better for the moment. We even get to stay in our wonderful, beautiful NOLA apartment. Which is worth a whole hell of a lot.

So back to our regularly scheduled blogging. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

This Cannot Possibly Be Happening...Again...

Taking some time off. Probably leaving New Orleans. Lithus and I are alive, healthy, and together. More...eventually. You know me; I always come back. Until then, though...

Take care of you.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will keep on getting you coffee.

Cooler Than You

That should be New Orleans' official motto: Cooler Than You. Because even when it's hot, even when it's humid, even when it's monsoon season and it is pouring rain, New Orleans is cooler than you/me/we can ever hope to be.

That balcony up there? Yeah...that's our home. We live there. Go ahead; let the hating begin. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Fear and Bravery

It is no secret to anyone who knows me, or who has read this blog for a minute, that I am incredibly, incredibly brave and that I am brave because I am afraid of everything. It's only people who have just met me or who refuse to get to know me that believe the bravery is the core person and not an active, every single day choice. Honestly, I don't have much interest in keeping that second category around very long, because I happen to think being brave is far more interesting than being fearless, but that's just me.

Being the quivering mass of contradictions that I am, I have two differing experiences around this, just from this week. Surely this doesn't surprise you.

On the one hand, earlier this week, I mentioned to Lithus the fact that I am not as brave as I once was simply because I am not as scared as I once was. Leaving the house ~ not scary any more. Going exploring on my own ~ not scary any more. Making the phone calls and arrangements that need to be made ~ not scary any more. I regularly leave the hotel room without a book or crossword puzzle or anything else to distract me and go do whatever needs to be done, be it lunch or shopping. There have even been a couple of times this week that I started to get nervous about something and actually thought Wait, this doesn't bother you anymore; you don't have to be nervous, remember? and that was that. It's a beautiful, wonderful, exciting feeling.

On the other hand...Oh Dear God, the other hand. Last night, I had a thought that could become something interesting. So I emailed my friend Lori, who tends to know stuff about things, and asked if she knew anything about this idea. This morning, she wrote back saying that she knew nothing about it but here were three people she knew who very well might know something about it and I should write them and ask. Oh holy shit. Wait, what? Oh dear God.

But you know what? I'm incredibly brave. So, with a pep talk from Lori and a hard swallow, I did it. I sent those three emails. And as scary as it was, it wasn't as scary as it would've been once. Maybe, just maybe, even when I still need to be brave, I don't need to be quite as brave. I guess we'll see.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

These Thoughts on Those Thoughts

I've had an interesting thing happen just today ~ I looked at the blogs of two people I know personally but didn't know they blogged. Only they aren't just chatty, here's what's up in my life, pithy observation and witty insight blogs. These two blogs present themselves as...if not experts, definitely respectable sources of solid information.

So, I'm reading these two blogs and I'm thinking this is good information when it hits me: neither of these women actually and for real live like this. They want to live like this. They strive to live like this. But I know both of them IRL and truth is they don't live like this. They simply know the words and what we're all supposed to say and they happen to put the words together in a really compelling, convincing way. But bottom line is they are giving advice ~ and presenting it as a relatively easy thing to do ~ when I know for a fact that, at best, they struggle with it; at worst, by their own admission, away from public eyes, they fail.

I remember once I listened to Friend A (not-so) mockingly scold Friend B for Friend B's parenting choices. Only Friend A made the exact same choices with her own kids for the exact same reasons. Because we know what we're supposed to say and what we're supposed to do. And it's oh so damn easy to tell other people how easy it is to do. Yet somehow, our excuses are actually real reasons when everyone else's are, well, excuses.

There's a story about Ghandi and, while I don't know for certain it's true, I like to think it is. One day a woman came to him and explained she had been trying to get her son to stop eating sugar and he wouldn't listen to her. Please, please would Ghandi tell her son to stop eating sugar. Surely, her son would listen to Ghandi. Although she had brought her son with her, Ghandi told her to bring her son back in a month. So she did. A month later, she returned and brought her son up to Ghandi who looked at the boy and told him not to eat sugar, then sent him on his way. (I like to envision a pat on the head and a smile at this point, but that's just me.) A little confused and irritated that she'd had to make the trek twice, the mother asked Ghandi why he hadn't been willing to say those few words to her son a month ago. To which Ghandi replied "A month ago, I hadn't stopped eating sugar."

The truth is no one has The Truth. No one lives it perfectly every single day. Most of us are winging it, just trying to do the best we can in any given moment. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Happy 4th

If you celebrate it, Happy 4th of July!



If you don't, Happy Steve McQueen, James Garner, and David McCallum Eye Candy Day!

And remember ~ don't set shit on fire.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Ed. Note ~ I have no idea what the comments at the beginning and end are; please disregard. Thank you.

A Reminder

I've said it once already this season but with the 4th of July upon us ~ and the fireworks and sparklers that tend to show up with the occasion ~ I think it bears repeating:

Don't set shit on fire.

Your friendly neighborhood firefighters thank you. As do I.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and keep you from being evacuated later.

Since I Missed It...

...You did, too, right? ;)





And especially for Kimber...


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Not Here, Not Now

That is where and when I am. Or I'm not. Or something. You can't tell the players without a program folks. And while I'm not going to put everything that has happened in the last month out here, if you want the details, let me know; I'll fill you in as concisely as possible. Just know it's still a long story. But those are the best kind, don't you think? Yeah, me too.

Since last Monday, it's gone like this:
Monday, Sacramento, CA (lovely town)
Be told we'll have plenty of time to settle in.
Tuesday morning, be told Lithus is heading to AZ for 24-36 hours
Tuesday evening, be told Lithus is going to Sierra Vista, NM for 12 days instead. Make arrangements to fly to Tucson (via Las Vegas) and drive to Sierra Vista on Wednesday.
Tuesday night, be told Lithus isn't going to Sierra Vista, but is going to Safford, NM. We can still fly to Tucson and drive.
Wednesday, go to airport, check bags, head to security. Receive email telling Lithus he might be going to Alamogordo, NM and to stand-by.
Stand by...stand by...stand by...
Receive word we are to still fly to Tucson, meet up with chief pilot, and...something will happen from there.
Fly to Las Vegas. Receive word that Lithus is indeed going to drive to Alamogordo, just not sure when. Or where chief pilot is.
Fly to Tucson. Receive word Lithus is to spend night in Tucson, drive to Alamogordo Thursday. All without chief pilot. Who drops out of this story at this point.
Spend night in Tucson. Eat the most perfect scallop dinner ever prepared. Ever.
Thursday, drive to Alamogordo, New Mexico.

*whew* Now we're up to date.

Those are happy, back on the road again, Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (but admission to see The Thing is only a dollar!).

Pride 2011!

It's Pride month and we here at Pobble Thoughts celebrate it. So, for the whole month of June, this will be the top post. Scroll down for more. And Happy Pride!

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

It's Happening Again

Aaaaand...They're off! Sacramento, here we come. Details soon. For now though ~



Those are Pobble Thoughts (with a little help from some friends). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.