Stringed Instrument!

It was inevitable. I've been tagged by DonDon. Since I am one of those people who loves being tagged, I have accepted this assignment giddily. I know, I'm a goob. :)

So here are the rules of the tag (as delivered, verbatim, from Himself):

* Post a similar post like this one and add a link back to the person who tagged you.

* List 5 reasons why you blog about the things you blog on your blog.

* Choose your 5 tag ‘victims’ and tag them nicely, just like I did :)

* Write a comment on their blog letting them know that you tagged them. Voilà! Or, as less literate people will say, "Viola!" (Will they?…)

1. I blog as a journal. It is my little place to vent, joke, rant, think...Whatever. It started as a way to come to grips with my bio-family and let the people who have become my family know what they meant to me and why. It has been enormously successful in this regard, even as my relationship with my bio-family has improved.

2. I blog because it gives me a place to be everything I am. In person, I'm an introvert. I don't always make the observations, the jokes, the statements that are running through my head. Here, I do so. I am a sociologist, a comedienne, neurotic, sane, judgemental, understanding, all of it and more, outside of my own head.

3. I blog because I have to write. That's what I am. I'm a writer. It's what I do. I write. I have to write the way other people have to breathe. And so I write.

4. I blog because I have learned I am a comment whore. I adore getting comments. 'Nuff said.

5. I blog when I am inspired or intrigued (or tagged) by my fellow bloggers. These people are amazing, wonderful, thoughtful, funny, thought-provoking and so much more. How can I not be inspired to write on something they have written?

And now we come to the tough spot. I recognize that not everyone (very few people, actually) enjoy being tagged the way I do. SO! I am going to tag however there is no pressure and if I haven't tagged you but you want to write on this, PLEASE feel free to do so and claim a tag from the Boston Pobble!

Tagged:

* Rose

* Aisha T

* GNGirl

* Zoom

* Dagoth (from whom I haven't heard a lot recently; you okay out there, Dagoth?????)

Meanwhile, in case I have a reader who doesn't know the ineffable DonDon009, check him out here:

Don Don

Those are Pobble Thoughts, with a wee nudge from Don. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

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...'Cause I've got issues!

1. When your dog is whining and shivering it is so scared at the vet's, don't yell at the poor baby or scold it. Give it some love and some reassurance. Or give the dog to someone else.

2. I miss tan M&Ms. Yes, I know they've been gone forever. Yes, I know they were replaced by the much prettier blue ones. And I still miss them. Thank goodness the stupid lavender ones are gone. For a while it looked as if lavender would replace orange which wouldn't do at all because I like the orange ones best and always save them for last. "Special edition" M&Ms always mess me up just a little bit because they rarely have orange ones.

3. If someone asks for advice, give it or say that you're sorry but you've got nothing (or words to that affect.) Do not offer platitudes or the verbal equivilent of a dismissive shrug. And if someone doesn't ask for advice then, seriously, keep your damn mouth shut.

4. Children should be able to draw chalk pictures on whatever asphalt surface they choose. Yelling at them to "Get the fuck out of my driveway" only makes you an ass. Yelling it loud enough that your neighbor on the third floor and two houses down can hear you through closed windows only makes you more of an ass.

5. I really hate making left turns without a light. It's not a phobia or a cause for panic attacks or anything (although I have known people who would go miles and miles and miles out of their way in order to avoid doing so.) I just don't like it.

6. What is it about the putting away part of something that makes it so frustrating, overwhelming, whatever? I know I'm not alone in this one because a certain person (*cough*Lovely Cats*cough*) has said she will load a dishwasher until the cows come home but hates unloading. I'm the same way. Loading and running a dishwasher? I'm all over that. Unloading it is like having my fingernails pulled out. Same with laundry. I will do laundry, iron laundry and fold laundry. And then it sits in a big washed-ironed-and-folded pile while I dig my way through it over the course of the next week. The putting away part ~ whatever it is ~ sucks.

7. Hearing the phrase "You just ran over my elephant!" has made living in this neighborhood worth every minute of the last eighteen months.

8. The other night when I stuck myself with the used needle from Daisy's fluid treatments, I immediately panicked, convinced that I had given myself some horrible doggie disease. It required a phone call to my mother reassuring me that I had indeed done everything necessary (antibiotic soap, alcohol and triple antibiotic oinment on the band-aid) necessary before I could relax about it. My mother knows nothing about doggie diseases, sticking oneself with used doggie needles or the frequency with which thumbs turn black and fall off after such an experience. I still felt better about it having talked to my mom.

9. Is it possible to need a 12-step program for popcorn? If so, I do.

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

Why I Panicked

This morning, Lionel was barking like a mad man. And then the barking Just. Stopped. So I went into the other room to see what was going on. My screen door wasn't latched. Shit. Okay. So, instead of racing out into the neighborhood in my robe, I thought I would check the normal haunts and hiding places first. There was Daisy...



















And there was this...



And this...



This...



And finally even this...
















eventhough I had just gotten up from there and knew he wasn't snuggled down with me.











Just as I was about to pull on jeans, I started to wake up. Had I seen...? Yep, sure enough, there was also this...

















A nose...

My world is like one big Where's Waldo?

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

Sunday Poll Question

There are people in Somalia renting out tress to live under. Renting out trees. To live under. This is seriously wrong.

In the 1940s and '50s, Abraham Maslow developed a hierarchy of human needs. These are certain requirements that, once met, will lead to each of us fulfilling our potential. From the base of the pyramid up, each of us must have met: 1. Biological and physical needs 2. Safety needs 3. Belongingness and love needs 4. Esteem needs and 5. Self-actualization.

Please note, the base of the pyramid is air, food, drink, initmacy, shelter and the like. Without those, we as human beings cannnot develop in ways that make us, well, human beings instead of clever, naked monkeys. But vast numbers of people do without these things on a daily basis. Renting trees, people.

So here's the question: Of the following things, would you be willing to give up one of them if it would guarantee every other person on the planet would have more than enough of all of them? Why or why not? And if you would, which would it be?

• Food (to prevent total starvation, let's allow for a maximum of 800 calories a day. Just know you might not always get that much)
• Clean, accessible water
• Intimacy (not just sex ~ intimacy)
• Weather resistant shelter

Pobble Answer: This one is tough. I want the anwer to be "Of course I would give something up!" I'm not sure that's true though and, as I have said on previous occasions, once you start lying in your own blog, there are problems. In the long run, though, I think I would have to agree to it. I don't think I could live with myself knowing the suffering I could have prevented otherwise. And I think I would give up the food. With everything else, I think I could manage. But wow...even I'm stumped on this one.

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

Seriously, Folks

These are my favorite pens for writing my books (yes, I write them long-hand first; I'm old school.)

These are the refills for my favorite pens for writing my books.















Why can I get a 2-pack of the pens themselves for $2.99 at the CVS ~ but a 2-pack of the refills cost me $3.50?

*sigh*

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

Evolution

When I was very young, snide sexual asides from men intimidated me. As I got older, they just made me laugh. Yesterday, when I thought I heard something sexually derogatory whispered behind me after I had spoken a very polite "Excuse me, please", I had a very different reaction. At 37, I wanted to turn on them and say "Who the hell are you to try to intimidate or objectify me that way?!!? Does your mother know that's how you treat women? Are you that intimidated by a vagina?!!?" Had I been 100% sure what I had heard, I would have.

Girl Power my ass. Don't fuck with women.

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

From Wolfgrrrl (a reposting)

I am reposting this because it has gotten a bit lost between the Sunday Poll Question and Jerry Falwell's death. Wolfgrrrl worked hard to come up with these questions and I want to make sure she gets the credit she deserves for them. Therefore, a rare re-posting.

Wolfgrrl gave me five questions to answer. The assignment is to answer the questions and then offer to give anyone who wants to play five different questions to answer. So, if you want in, let me know and I'll send you questions (she has warned me that this is the most difficult part!) And here we go...

1. If you were to host a dinner party, with seven guests from any place in human history, who would you invite and why? You're also responsible for starting the conversation, so what would you say to break the ice and get them chatting?

John Adams, William Shakespeare, Jesus, Nelson Mandela, the Lovely Cats, my friend Jim, and appsrus. Trust me, you want in on this dinner party. Why? Because I imagine having these minds together in one place will be amazing. Just about everything is covered here. Philospohy, politics, religion, human rights, the arts, the military, the law... Of the current people living, the only one you have no exposure to is my friend, Jim. His background is military, government, law and theatre (no shit.) Breaking the ice wouldn't be necessary. The Lovely Cats and appsrus have the uncanny and enviable (enviable to me, anyway) of being able to talk to anyone about anything and make everyone feel comfortable doing so. Really, all I would have to do is turn the table over to them. HOWEVER! That's not part of the game. Therefore, to break the ice, I would ask "So, seriously, who wrote what, you guys?" (and a quick note: If I were given the opportunity to have eight people around the table, the 8th would be my mother.)

2. A perfect day in the life of Boston Pobble must contain what three elements?

a) Really good coffee, sipped out under the sun or snuggled up by the fire, depending on season
b) Sleeping as late as I want and staying up until the wee hours of the morning
c) An adventure with friends (which must include but not necessarily be limited to the Lovely Cats and the Divine M if it is to be a truly perfect day.)

3. If you could trade one skill you currently have for a fantastic super power of your choice, what would you give up, and what would you choose to take it's place?

I would give up my hearing ~ which is a bit of a cheat because I'm already losing it so have gotten used to the idea. In return though, I would love to be able to tap into people's emotions and feelings. Not read minds or know what people are thinking. Just know what they are feeling at the time. For this to be desirable, however, I would want the ability to turn it off when I wanted, too.

4. In your opinion, what is the absolute best thing about living in your city? Give us a reason to be really envious!

There is something to do for everyone. There is a nightlife for college kids. There is a nightlife for older people. There are museums and restaurants and coffee shops and 24-hour diners. There are rock clubs and sports arenas and even Big Band. No matter what your age, what you like to do, you really can find it in Worcester. Who knew?????

5. In one of your previous posts, you mentioned letter writing and its beauty, importance and artistry. If you had a pen pal as a child, where were they from and how long did you correspond with them? If you didn't have a pen pal, who would you have choosen to write to, during your childhood?

I grew up writing to Mama Bear, my grandmother. She always wanted to know about everything ~ school, boys, my plays, my family ~ everything. And she always wrote me back. Sometimes it was to offer advice. Sometimes it was family stuff. Sometimes it was just her day. We were penpals until she got too old to write me back ~ but I still wrote her once a week until she died about two and a half years ago.

If you want questions, let me know. Otherwise...

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

End of an Era

Jerry Falwell is dead.

This in and of itself has no impact on my life. However, I grew up in his home town. I know what a presence he was there. I know how much the community and the economy of Lynchburg was tied into him. It's not as if the whole Jerry Falwell system has up and moved. It's all still there in the 'burg. Still, I wonder what this will change in my "home town."

His beliefs were repugnant to me. His interpretation of the scriptures offended and infuriated me. And I must give the man his due. There was never even a hint of the scandals that have rocked other fundamentalist Christian ministers and ministries. As misguided as I believe his faith was, he nonetheless lived by it and lived as a man of faith.

As the Lovely Cats put it "I have no doubt he is in the arms of the Lord ~ I just think he's really shocked by who's embracing him right now." Yep. That's about it.

I met him twice. Both times were at the theatre where I was doing shows. Both times, I finished the conversation I was having just as I turned to acknowledge who was calling my name, therefore finishing the conversation to that person's face. Both times, I had just been given bad news. Both times I turned and said "SHIT! Yes?" ~ directly into the eyes of Jerry Falwell. At least my friend doing the introductions found it as funny as I did.

My thoughts are with the families of his church in their grief who have just lost their pastor. My thoughts are with his friends and family in their grief ~ including The One in VA, from whom I still have not heard since she discovered my faith. And my thoughts are with the people he oppressed in their feelings, whatever they may be, in hopes that they will be able to live slightly freer, safer lives without his vituperation.

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

Sunday Poll Question

This last week, several homes were evacuated in California due to fires. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be. But it got me thinking and created the Sunday Poll Question.

Question: If you had to leave your home, what 5 personal items would you take? This assumes all necessities ~ legal documents, anything at home required for your work, basic clothing, medications, and all living creatures and their necessities ~ are evacuated safely. These five items are the purely personal ones.

Pobble Answer:

1. Bear. My stuffed bear. He's been with me since I was three. He's even in my will. I have told men they could leave my bed because they didn't want me to sleep with him any longer. Yeah, right.

2. Specific pictures. I have a photo of my paternal grandfather, Papa, that was taken during WWII. It has had a place of honor in my home since I was a teenager. Three pictures of my father and me, taken on the Fourth of July one year as we watched the annual turn-around of the Constitution. And one of my maternal grandparents ~ PT herself and my Daddy Ralph. They are young, laughing and so obviously in love.

3. L. Bo Peb and Lame. This is a drawing my heart did when he was in kindergarten. It is of Little Bo Peep and one of her lambs. Only he didn't have room (as he explained it) to write her full name. And couldn't spell, being only 4 or 5. Thus, L. Bo Peb and Lame. It still hangs on my 'fridge.

4. My cribbage board. Papa carried it through the war. Taught Daddy to play cribbage on it. Daddy taught me. There's more to this story but that's for a different post. For now, suffice it to say it, too, is in my will.

5. Hamlet. This was almost my measuring spoons except that I know the name of the artist who makes the spoons so they can be replaced. I have no idea who carved my Hamlet statuette. I bought him in England years ago. He is one of the first things unpacked in every house and is always put where I can see him on a daily basis.

Note: The first three were easy. The last two, very difficult to choose from all the things I love and hold dear. Let me know if you find it the same. And let's pray none of us ever have to actually face this choice!

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

The Letter Project

For years now, I have lamented the decline of letter writing. Every so often, Nemeria and I will pledge to write to each other, via post, on a regular basis. That pledge inevitably goes by the wayside. However, every so often, we renew it, which gives me hope in this day and age of email and instant messaging. I even keep stationery for the rare occasions I write a letter. Truth be told, writing the letter is rarely the problem. It's getting it in the mail. As usual, I digress... When I can afford them, I do pretty well with cards. Still, as great as cards are, they aren't the same as getting a real, honest-to-goodness letter in the mail.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels this way. Check this guy out:

The Letter Project

How much do I wish I had thought of this??????? And yes, I plan on sending him stamps ~ after Monday when the rates go up, because how much would it suck to send him stamps he can't use? If you want a letter, now you know where to go. And, between us in our little world, if you would like a letter for yourself or someone else from me, let me know. I'll write it! With happiness! And gratitude, 'cause I do love writing letters. They will even make into the mailbox. ;) Since you all know how I feel about confidentiality rest easy that I will keep addresses and real names to my damn self.

So as to not steal his thunder, this will be the only mention of my willingness to write letters (although, Goddess, it's a good idea and I would love to take it on!) His project, however, will stay linked over there where the rest of them are.

Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ with a little help from a guy named Frank. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

A Conversation with the Delivery Guy

Him: What's your street?

Me: Vassal Street (not my real street name)

Him: Spell it please?

Me: V as in victor...

Him: Dee?

Me: No. Vee. As in violin.

Him: Cee?

Me: No, not cee. VEE as in vetarinary.

Him: What?

Me: Vee. Like you're holding your first two fingers up.

Him: Dee?

Me: No. VEE. Like the purple flower, violet. Like your fingers are up.

Him: What street is it off?

Me: (gives cross streets.)

Him: OH! Wee! Wassal Street.

Me: (resigned with head in hand) Yes. Wee. Wassal Street.

Him: Be there in five minutes.


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

Still Warm

Last night, I went to the grocery store about 7 o'clock. The temperature during the day had reached low to mid 80s, depending on who you listen to, so I was in light cotton pants and a tank top. As I left the store, I realized it had gotten dark and cursed for not having brought a jacket. I braced myself as I went out ~ and it was still warm. Mid-70s, probably. Aaaaahhhhh....

Now this may not seem blog worthy except that, here in New England, it is not uncommon for us to be in winter coats in the evenings until early June. And yes, it portends a miserably hot summer up here on the third floor that is Casa Pobble. HOWEVER! Last night, it was still warm. And that was lovely.

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

Sunday Poll Question

The Republican candidates for President had a debate this last week. The pundits' and spin doctors' responses afterwards were interesting. (Mitt Romney's people said something along the lines of he looked the most presidential...o-kay... but I digress...) My mother has recently heard an interview with Fred Thompson who is considering a run. I have been keeping an eye on John Edwards from the Democratic party. All of this got me thinking and has led to the Poll Question...

Question: If you could ask each nominee for his or her stance on one thing and get a truly honest answer, what would you ask? Here's the catch though ~ you must cast your vote based on that one answer. No other issues could be taken into consideration.

Pobble Answer: I think I would ask about the stance on abortion. A candidate's feelings about this issue tend to be indicative of so many other issues. My experience has been that foreign policy, the environment, same sex marriage, education, assistance to the working poor, affirmative action, all those other issues that are important to me are either too long term for one President in our very short-sighted nation to affect greatly or else too variable to get a single answer that can cover every scenario. So it's not so much that the legality and availablity of abortion is that important to me (although it is) as it is that I tend to be able to extrapolate more information about other issues based on feelings around this issue.

Your answer...

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

Things I've Learned

1. I never look at my knees. Never. I have no idea what they look like on a daily basis.


2. Yasmin Galenorn isn't just a fun author; she's a classy lady, too.

3. Sometimes, even when people annoy me, I will protect them from certain things.

4. Those biodegradable packing peanuts really do biodegrade. And dissolve. Especially in dog spittle. In toothless little mouths. Luckily, they are also nontoxic.

5. Rudy Guiliani might ~ key word ~ be the best of the worst.

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

Sunday Poll Question

Has it really been a week since I posted???? Dude...

So, once again, in chatting with the Lovely Cats, we inadvertantly came up with the Sunday Poll Question. We got to talking about who we would be if we could put in an order for reincarnation. Knowing what we know now, who or what would we request to be next time around? Honestly, after much thought, I decided I would choose to be ... myself. Which is pretty damn cool considering what I know about being the Pobble. Still, it hasn't been a bad gig. As my friends tend to say (and as coined by the Lovely Cats or Tom Cat, I forget which), It doesn't suck to be Pobble. But what if you couldn't be yourself? What if you had to choose to live a different life? Knowing what you know, what would you choose?

Pobble Answer: Although it was tempting to choose spoiled lap dog, I think I would like to be a world-renowned scientist. Or perhaps not even world-renowned. I don't have to be well-known. One Albert Einstein was enough. It would be cool, however, to make incredible scientific breakthroughs. To know that my work really changed the world, the way we think about it, the way we see it, the way we treat our illnesses or our planet or ... whatever. To experience that "eureka" moment when the thing gets isolated or proven or discovered in the lab. A really major hoo-hah scientist. Yeah, if I can't be me, that would be cool.

Your answer...

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

Sunday Poll Question

Sitting outside this morning, enjoying the sun and warm weather, with Lithus outside of the Cathouse, we got to talking about what we might do if we had extra time and extra money. It was not a discussion about regrets or what might have been. Just...what if you were in a situation where you were twiddling your thumbs for a little while. What would you do?

Pobble Answer: I would go back to school and get a degree in architecture. I have always loved house plans and designing buildings. For years every Christmas, Santa would even put house plan magazines in my stocking. Do I regret not having a degree in architecture? Not in the least. Would it be nice to know what I'm doing as I doodle? Yeah. It would be cool.

Your answer...

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

Oh, and in case you're wondering, introducing to Lithus to the family is going WONDERFULLY.

:)

Lots of Wow

Wow #1: The Sunday Blog Poll seems to have been a hit. Thanks for your participation. The answers were great. My first unselfish wish would be that you all get your wishes. Gavin is waiting somewhere, afterall.

Wow #2: Lithus arrives tomorrow morning. For two whole weeks. We're heading down for a few days at the Cathouse and the Basement, respectively. Wish us all luck. *giggle*

Wow #3: My baby Daisy isn't doing so well. Last week, the vet discovered her kidneys are beginning to go. The first thing I did was email the amazing woman at Dachshund Rescue of North America who brought them into rescue in the first place. She asked me if she could send out an email to other DRNA members for healing thoughts and prayers. And since I said yes, I have gotten so many emails from total strangers all saying the same thing: their prayers are with me, Daisy and Lionel. The support and outpouring of love has been amazing. Almost as good as y'all are.

Wow #4: Earlier today, Lithus called. After not flying since November, his work had called him back for a tour. Starting Sunday. So he called to ask my opinion. Hell, I didn't know what my opinion was. The last time I was in this situation, my feelings on the matter didn't mean as much as the employers'. Instead, Lithus has arranged a swap with another pilot, will arrive tomorrow morning as planned and will go on his next tour next month. I have never ~ never ~ had the man I love choose me over his work before or even discuss the situation with me. As the Divine M puts it, "damn good feeling, isn't it, Pobble?" Yeah. Yeah, it is.

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

Sunday Poll Question

Here's the thing ~ in my opinion, Sundays suck. I'm not sure why but they tend to be the longest-and-not-in-a-good-way day of the week. As a counter to the Sunday Suckies, Im introducing the Sunday Poll Question. A question for you. Sometimes thought provoking. Sometimes not so much. And I will always give you my answer, too. Who knows how long this will last. Perhaps just today. Perhaps the life of the blog. It depends on my discipline and your willingness to answer. So, if this is your first time (welcome!), if you lurk but don't comment or if you are a regular contributor here, chime in!

Let's play...

Question: You find the lamp and the genie. Only this isn't your average everyday genie. This is your unusual genie. This is the fuck-that-three-wishes-crap genie. You can have as many wishes as you want. Nothing will backfire. No one will have to pay for your wishes. It really is all good without a morality tale at the end of it. Under one condition ~ your first wish must be entirely selfish. It cannot be for your family, the world, the people you love. Only you may benefit directly from it. And only if your wish is selfish enough do you then get to make whatever wishes for whatever people or situations you choose. What is your wish?

Pobble Answer: An apartment at the Ritz and the book contracts to guarantee I can live there comfortably. Ever since I was a child and read Eloise for the first time, I have wanted to live in a hotel. Once I was a little older and discovered the Ritz Carlton, I have wanted to live in that particular hotel. The thought of having a standing reservation for tea every Wednesday at 4 o'clock, ordering up room service, having the staff know me...not to mention never needing to worry about if I have enough room for everyone to spend the night. At the same time, I have to write. Have to. So what better way to make a good enough living to ensure I can live in my Ritz apartment than to know I've got contracts.

Your turn...

Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ and yours too if you want to play. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

I'm Sorry

If you don't know the true meaning and power of the words "I'm Sorry" then may I suggest you go and read Bartholomew Cubbins and the Oobleck by Dr. Seuss. It is, as most of his work is, inspiring, enlightening while being good rolicking fun. Truly the man was a genius.

Sadly, most people it seems have forgotten the true meaning of the words "I'm Sorry." We have become an apologetic nation. And think that will make it all okay.

The other night, I was instant messaging with a friend. We were both frustrated, tired and bless her heart, she was getting sick, too. At one point, she said something uncalled for. Before I could even respond, she had apologized, acknowledging it was uncalled for. In fact "uncalled for" is her phrase. This is a real apology. This is one I knew was sincere. Every single one of us has said something uncalled for, stupid, hurtful, untrue...whatever at some point. When that happens, the best you can do is apologize, hope the other person accepts and move on. The key is apologizing.

When is the key not apologizing? When your true thoughts and feelings came out. When you are neglectful enough of other people that you think you can say anything. When you are more sorry you got caught than for what you said. When you aren't planning on changing your attitude or actions. When you aren't really sorry, dammit.

When someone says something about another person's race, gender, orientation, weight, religion...those are not mis-speaks. Those are that person's actual and real feelings. Don't call your fellow actor a "fa**ot" and then apologize the next day. Don't make a drunken rant about Jews or throw around the "n-word" and then apologize the next day. If you don't truly feel those things somewhere down deep inside of you, it doesn't even dawn on you to use the words in the first place. I had given myself permission to spell out "fa**ot" and the "n-word" in this blog in order to make my point ~ and I cannot do it. Not out of any sense of political correctness. Not even because I might offend someone. Just because those words are so offensive and because they are simple so wrong.

Yet I'm supposed to believe you have had an epiphany in 24 hours???? You haven't had time to think about it. You haven't had time to learn why what you said was wrong and hurtful. You haven't had time to change whatever is inside of you that made you say those things in the first place. You're only sorry because society tells you that you should be sorry. And I can't respect that. I actually had more respect for Tim Hardaway before his apology than after it. What he said repulsed and disgusted me ~ and at least he had the backbone to say what he truly believed, however reprehensible. Until he apologized.

We can apologize for two things: our intentions and our impacts. I just don't believe that these people who have been spewing such vituperation are sorry for either. They only seem to be sorry they got caught or that they are having to pay consequences.

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

The Right to Offend, Pt. 1

I'm a muller. For those of you who may not understand this, it means I tend to mull things over, think about them before I speak. Which is partly why I am just now writing about this post from the Lovely Cats. But partly, it's because so many people have been so offensive recently that every time I thought I was ready to post something, I'd have more to mull.

As anyone who has read this blog for any length of time or has known me for longer than about three minutes can tell you, I'm big into freedoms. Big. I self-identify not as a part of any political party but as a Constitutionalist. Have you ever read the Bill of Rights? It's damn good stuff.

And it's also tricky. See, it's easy to extend freedoms to people with whom we agree and who are smart enough, wise enough, intelligent enough, whatever enough to agree with us. And it's easy to put up with people with whom we don't agree and who aren't enough those things to agree with us so long as they keep their mouths shut and only mutter under their breaths or talk in private.

But is that freedom?

The Lovely Cats has brought freedom of religion to the forefront so I'm putting aside the other issues (for now ~ you may have noticed this is "Pt. 1") and looking at that.

Amendment One of the Constitution of the United States of America: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof... Commonly known as "freedom of religion."

Somewhere along the line, this freedom of religion has come to mean sanctioned atheism. Now, obviously, as a Pagan, I don't want to live in a country where everyone must be Christian. But the truth is I don't want to live in a country where everyone must be Pagan, either.

The sticky part is that phrase "the free exercise thereof..." Yep. That's the killer. Honk Twice If You Love Jesus. Would I honk? No. While I have nothing against the man, he's not my prophet nor my Lord and Savior. Is the sign offensive? Obviously, it is to some people or the complaint wouldn't have been made. However, it doesn't call for violence against people who don't love Jesus. It doesn't state or even imply that not honking will get you run out of town or even the woman's shop. It is, plain and simple, a public expression of faith. And forcing it to be removed because it is offensive is an even greater offense. Because if I want to wear my pentacle, the Lovely Cats should be able to honk twice since she loves Jesus, even if we do offend.

That's the difference between freedom of religion and sanctioned atheism.

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

Thanks

You know, I have some of the best people as blogfriends. Thank you.

And for those of you who read the first review, I do want to say that person's concerns were valid (okay, I'm not sure I would have lost all faith in the entire book for goodness sake but still.) My copyeditor and I were both new at phoenetic pronunciations and screwed up at the beginning. We did, however, get better at it as we went along. And y'all deserve to know that I know it's not perfect. ;) I probably should've told you this in the last post but I didn't really expect the response that I got from you. I know, I got silly. Because you guys are the best.

Have I told you lately that I love you?

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

A Book-y Favor

This is a tough and slightly embarrassing post however I am swallowing my pride and making it. Generally, I do not like to go fishing for compliments. This time, I am making an exception to that tenet. *gulp*

Here's the favor: If you have a copy of Test Words and have enjoyed it, please consider going to amazon dot com and leaving a review. The more reviews it has, the earlier it shows up in a general search. Currently, it has three reviews and a 3.5 star rating (the first review was a dud, sadly.) If we can get this up, I would be very grateful. There is, however, no pressure if you don't want to do this. Seriously.

There. Now that's done. And thanks.

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

What I Can Tell You

If her birthday itself is any indication, the Lovely Cats should have a fantastic year. We certainly started it off right.

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

Borrowing from $$

BDS over at Two Dollar Productions had a fun L-O-V-E tag. In case you missed it or you don't read him, he was tagged with the letter "V" and had to list ten things he liked and ten he didn't like that started with that letter. Although he didn't tag me, I'm borrowing it. And because I'm rushed for time these days, I'm tweaking it a bit, one of each for each letter.

Here is my L-O-V-E post:

L- Okay, something I love that starts with L could easily be Lithus. But that is easy and it's not his real name anyway, so we'll go with laughter instead. I love to laugh. I love the sound of laughter. Be it a small chuckle or a full-out, who cares who hears me guffaw, laughter is guaranteed to be a good thing. Appsrus has one of the greatest laughs on the planet. It's distinctive and joyous and contagious. We should all be able to laugh like he does. Something I dislike is logarithm. Damn but these things kicked my ass while I was in school. I'm still not 100% sure what they are. I'm not even sure I spelled it correctly. I've blocked the damn things.

O - Outlandishness. Kinda goes hand in hand with laughter, don't you think? But I dislike overweight. What I mean here is the concept. Yes, there are people out there who are truly, unhealthily too heavy. But I'm talking about the people (mostly women) who are a size 12 or 14 or even 18 instead of a size 2 or a size 0 and consider themselves overweight. Come on people! But this could easily turn into a soapbox so I'll let it go now.

V- Victories. Those little ones that get us through the day. Crossing off everything on the to-do list. Finding the perfect word to put in the mouth of a character. Whatever. Those are really good things. The dislike was easy: violence. Not a fan. In any shape or form. Be it organized, sanctioned violence, such as war; be it spontaneous and unplanned such as riots or crime; or be it subtle and insidious, such as playground taunting. Not a fan of violence.

E - Ethics. Our personal ethics define who we are. They give us strength in situations where we are uncertain or confused. I may not always agree with someone who sticks to their ethical beliefs but I have always found myself respecting the fact that they have them and have stuck to them. As for the dislike ~ endings. I admit it, endings make me sad. And I am very good at looking at them as the beginning of something else. Seriously. That's not just psychobabble. However, I have learned to look at them as beginnings because endings make me sad.

So there you have it. A quick, borrowed post. :)

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

Brought to You by the Word "Misanthrope"

Over the past month or so, I have had several people say to me something along the lines of: "Pobble, I really love talking to you because you make me feel normal" or "This is why I talk to you, Pobble. You make me see myself differently" or some variation on that theme. And what have I done to make these people more accepting of themselves? I've been accepting of them. Period.

Now, don't get me wrong. I am flattered beyond words and description that I make people feel good/normal/accepted/acceptable/whatever about themselves. That's truly high praise. What I hate is the fact that other people have made them feel less than in the first place.

There has been a huge debate about the morality of sexuality ~ specifically homosexuality ~ recently. I left a comment over at dondon's place that those debates amuse and frustrate me because it is (in my opinion) similar to debating the morality of breathing. Sexuality simply is. It is neither moral nor immoral. (And before anyone says anything, I am talking about sexuality that manifests itself through consentual sexual activities between consenting adults.) It just is.

Friends have come to me recently because they "aren't manly enough" or "aren't feminine enough" or dare to think this way instead of that way ~ and have gotten grief from other individuals and society in general over it. Hell, I even had a friend inform me she "wasn't Goth enough." Dude ~ when the Goth culture starts judging, you know the world has gotten into a bad place. To which I have given my honest opinion every time: I think you're great.

So what is so hard about keeping our damn mouths shut if we disagree? What is so hard about respecting others' choices? What is so hard about letting people be who they are without trying to impose our own crap on other people? And why I am the only one who seems to be accepting of these amazing, wonderful people who call me friend?

And that's why I'm a misanthrope.

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

The ONE Reason I Would Consider Becoming A Mom

Overheard this evening while running errands:

Child of unknown age: Hey Mom! Come see this! Hey Mom! Hey Mom! Come here!

Mom: No.





HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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

Time Warp

In the five days since Dreamer left, I have been in a weird time-thingy. I get up at a reasonable hour (for me, anyway) motivated and ready to start the day. I get my coffee so that the brain kicks in and...next thing I know it's about 4:30 in the afternoon and I have lost an entire day. The question becomes...To What?

I got nothing.

Sometimes, I might have run a quick errand. Or done a load of dishes. But mostly...nope. Nothing. No clue. The day is just gone. My to-do list sits there by the door, under my purse, waiting expectantly. And come the evenings, I'm so bored I wish I had television. So what am I doing during the days that keep me from both 1. completing (hell, starting) my to-do list and 2. being as bored as I am in the evenings?

I got nothing.

So today, I am going to hit publish, grab my to-do list and actually go do some of it. It's not even 12:30 yet. The afternoon is ahead of me. Here's hoping I don't wake up in five hours wondering why I'm still here at the computer. :)

It's just a jump to the left...

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

Random Pictures

The week Dreamer was here was the warmest, nicest week we've had all season. Until it wasn't...



















Lionel sleeps very, very hard. To the point that it is easy to think he is dead. He has scared me, houseguests, and his sitters. The situation is only exacerbated by the tongue...
















He has also learned a new, doesn't-make-Mommy-happy trick...









Yep, the little booger is on my desk!








Daisy continues to be her beautiful self but she's a meatloaf with fur so her pictures aren't very interesting. Still, she deserves a post, too!
























On Valentine's Day, I received this from the guy at the toll booth I cross through most days...






The card reads I love sweet things...but I love you most of all. And the best part is it sings when you open it! "You Got the Best of my Love." From the Toll Booth Guy!









So, I told Lithus he'd best not be shown up by the Toll Booth Guy. He wasn't...





















And finally, for BDS over at Two Dollar Productions. With thanks...







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

Addendum

The dress (see previous post if this makes no sense to you) costs $100. As fabbo a dress as it is, I just don't have $100 to spend on a dress right now. *sigh* Donations can be sent to The Dress Fund c/o The Boston Pobble. Naturally. ;)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ but not a cool-ass dress, 'cause that costs more.

Walking Lots, Eating More

Boston has amazing art and culture. The architecture truly rivals its older, Eurpoean sister cities. And history. So much of the history of this nation took place and is chronicled here.

Dreamer and I are shopping. Every so often, I remember to point out something of historical relevance. Every so often, she stops to take a picture of some particular beauty. But really. We hardly break stride. 'Cause there's shopping to do.

When our feet get tired, we must take a break of course. Pizza. Italian. Greek. Indian. Pastries. A river of tea and an ocean of coffee.

It is, afterall, vacation.

Don't Dreamer, the Muppet and Peaches look great? Yeah, I think so too.






And because I feel a wee bit guilty about posting my friends without being willing to put myself out there, too, here is the (in need of slight alterations) dress I didn't buy. But it was a close thing:






















Now I must go wake Dreamer, as it is almost noon and we have more shopping to do!

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

Rolling On Floor...

Gingrich admits having an affair in Clinton era
Former speaker who led impeachment push cites ‘periods of weakness’

WASHINGTON - Former House Speaker Newt Gingrich was having an extramarital affair even as he led the charge against President Clinton over the Monica Lewinsky affair, he acknowledged in an interview with a conservative Christian group.

"The honest answer is yes," Gingrich, a potential 2008 Republican presidential candidate, said in an interview with Focus on the Family founder James Dobson to be aired Friday, according to a transcript provided to The Associated Press. "There are times that I have fallen short of my own standards. There's certainly times when I've fallen short of God's standards."
Gingrich argued in the interview, however, that he should not be viewed as a hypocrite for pursuing Clinton's infidelity.

...laughing my fucking ass off. Or else I will cry.

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

Life is but a Dream

Having barely completed re-entry from the visit with Lithus, I am preparing for a visit from Dreamer. It's her senior year, spring break and she is choosing to spend it...with me. I am flattered. Puzzled ~ yet flattered nontheless. Somehow, I just don't consider my apartment here in Worcester the happening place for senior year spring break.

We have talked about what we might do. I have ordered groceries for vegetarian meals. There is tea and 2% milk in the house. And I have assured her that I have plenty of sweaters, coats and scarves she can wear since it is going to be much, much colder than she is used to. (Mind you, we're looking at a warm spell so it's all relative...)

In speaking with DreamerDad tonight, I realized really what an honor this is. Don't get me wrong; I was excited beforehand. But this man has never even laid eyes on me. Neither has DreamerMom. They have taken a leap of faith that I will care for their child. That I will entertain her appropriately. That I will see her well home. And it's a statement of faith in Dreamer as well. It means the Dreamer'Rents trust her, know her, believe in her. I'm impressed all the way around.

So, tomorrow I will put a last clean on the place and Saturday be waiting just outside security (follow the signs to baggage claim, honey. I'll find you.) for her to walk through the gates. And show my young friend New England.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ or tea or 2% milk!

Where I've Been

Several posts ago, I mentioned I was taking Lithus to the Basement. As it turns out, due to unexpected scheduling issues, that trip didn't happen. Instead, I went to him, here:

































There's also a marketplace and a space needle and several other touristy things but why take pictures of those when a pink elephant and googly-eyed street signs are available? Not to mention a man willing to carry your purse and your packages while you take said pictures...



















I did take one touristy-type picture. Divine M, this is for you. LYMY.

















As many people can attest, I am very protective of my space and my time in it. Hell, as Nemeria, my oldest friend, put it after Lithus visited here: "10 days? TEN DAYS! You shared *your* space with someone (let alone a MAN) for 10 days?!? Who are you and what have you done with Pobble?" She added a "just kidding" to be nice but the truth is ~ she wasn't just kidding. It was a shock. Lithus is the same way. And yet even ten more days were too short. Too little time sharing space. And that says more than any detail I could write here.

So it was good. It was ordinary. It was extraordinary. It was...really, really good.

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

5 Things You Might Not Know

I received this as an email and thought it would make a good post. Here are 5 Things You Might Not Know About Me...

1. I have numerous physical "quirks." Most of them have a tendancy to make me pass out if I don't control them. Needless to say, I control them (although I've been told it's amusing when I don't.) My ears are screwed up. I have frighteningly low blood pressure (thanks, Tai!) that I control with a high-salt diet (yes, many, many doctors have endorsed this.) I have a heart arrhythmia caused by a magnesium deficiency. My knees don't self-lubricate (flax seed oil supplements are great ~ and it is also high in omega-3s so that's good.) And I've got something called "vagal" that isn't the full name and probably isn't spelled correctly but it means I pass out if the air gets too still. Pharmyard is the only other person I've met who has this. A tip ~ if a doctor ever suggests you get a tilt-table test in order to test for this condition, simply say "Oh, I've had that. I already know I have vagal." Trust me.

2. I am painfully shy. Seriously. Walking into a group of people I don't know well causes physical pain. Talking to new people, sending emails, whatever ~ painful. I get over it. I suck it up and do it. And it's still painful. Mind you, once I'm comfortable, you can't shut me up or keep me away. Until then, though...painful.

3. I have never changed a diaper. Never. Not once. When the Lovely Cats fell and broke her foot years ago, I stayed in town until her mother could get there. The agreement was I would do everything but the dishes and changing the Princess Kitten's diaper. Not even for her and a broken foot.

4. I'm not really an animal person. Don't get me wrong ~ I don't dislike animals at all. And Lionel and Daisy are my babies. When Katrina struck, I had no money. I still managed to donate five bucks and I donated it to animal rescue organizations. Yet, if I never have another pet, that will be okay. All those pictures of baby creatures that make most people coo and ahh and say things "oh, it's So Cute!" make me smile, sure. But then I'm done and ready to move on to something else.

5. I'm inherently lazy. Looking at my schedule and my life, you wouldn't think so. But I am. Hm...there's really not that much more to say about that one. It's pretty self-explanatory.

So what about you? What are five things we might not know about you?

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

The Toothless Wonder

Gotta love the tongue.













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

And Maybe We're Not Getting It At All...

Former Miami Heat guard Tim Hardaway said on a radio show Wednesday afternoon that he would not want a gay player on his team. Hardaway was a guest of Miami Herald columnist Dan Le Batard on Miami sports radio station WAXY-AM and was asked how he would deal with a gay teammate. When asked if he would accept an active player's coming out, such as that of retired NBA center John Amaechi, Hardaway replied: "First of all, I wouldn't want him on my team." As we all know, it got *ahem* better from there. But apparently, he's sorry. He's so sorry, he apologized.

"Yes, I regret it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said I hate gay people or anything like that," he said. "That was my mistake." So...um... you should have just kept your mouth shut and gone on hating without mentioning it?

While I cannot at this moment find the quote I'm looking for, Amaechi made a great comment about how men who stand up for women's rights are seen as being supportive, white men who stand up for black rights are seen as heros ~ and straight men who stand up for homosexual rights are seen as being wimps and are probably really gay themselves. I wish it wasn't so true. And I wish that more straight men wouldn't give a damn if they were seen as being wimps and probably gay for supporting homosexual rights.

Here's another quote from the whole situation from Pat Riley: "But I do know that Tim's a good spirit, and I'm sure now he wished he could take all of that back," Riley added, the newspaper reported. "And I hope he's not severely judged by his spewing of some of those words. That kind of thinking can't be tolerated. It just can't." Um...he's not supposed to be severely judged and yet that kind of thinking can't be tolerated. So...hmmm... I got nothing here.

But how is this for grace? Amaechi also said: "Finally, someone who is honest," he said. "It is ridiculous, absurd, petty, bigoted and shows a lack of empathy that is gargantuan and unfathomable. But it is honest. And it illustrates the problem better than any of the fuzzy language other people have used so far."

He's a better person than I will ever be.

Valentine's Day and all that coming soon. I had to say this first.

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

We Might Be Getting It

The Academy Awards are soon upon us. I admit, there are some awards shows that matter to me: the Tonys, the Obies, SAG Awards and yes, the Academy Awards.

This year is one of the most culturally diverse years ever. In the Best Actress category, there is only one white, American woman. (It is, of course, Meryl Streep, as it should be if only one white, American actress is going to be nominated.) Three women from Britain, a woman from Spain, and a woman from America, ranging in age from early-30s to early-70s. And this is the least diversely nominated category in the major ones.

I'm not saying anything is fixed or perfect. Far from it. And no awards have been given out yet. Still...I think we might be getting it. Great actors are great actors. Not great black actors. Not great Spanish actors. Not great British or American actors. Just...great actors. I'm hopeful. At least I'm more hopeful than I've been in a while.

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

Why Is It That...

...I own the only coffee maker in the country for which there is no replacement carafe?
...my camera is at hand when Lionel and Daisy are sleeping but not when they are doing something cute?
...the men who make the biggest deal about not wanting to be in my life are the ones who don't stay gone?
...blogger lets me leave comments on some blogs but not others?
...I can go weeks, months, even sometimes years without wanting something and then end up on a kick where I want to do it, eat it, or see it every day for weeks?
...at 7:30 p.m. I am falling asleep at my desk but at midnight I'm wide awake?
...I am willing to spend money on coffee and half and half but not vegetables?
...it takes me so long to return phone messages but I respond to emails quickly?
...I can think of clever, witty posts when I am in the shower or on the road but not when I am somewhere I can write them?

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

Updates and Other Ramblings

* The flu is over! TTG. I'll spare you those details. ;)

* Graziella and her family had services for her niece yesterday. I have passed along everyone's good wishes. As she puts it, "The prayers must be working because I'm feeling better." So thank you. The service was a beautiful celebration of a too short life.

* Lionel is now The Toothless Wonder. We have been fighting his dental disease since he came to me but it has just been too much. Dr. Jonathan had to pull the last ones yesterday. Now, Lionel's tongue sticks out. It's kinda cute. Expect pictures. He, of course, still thinks he is a three year old great dane with a full set of choppers. That's my boy.

* Graziella's dogs have been fostered out so she is set to leave on Sunday! Whoo-hoo for her!

* In two weeks, I will be heading back to the Basement. With Lithus. Yep. He is meeting the Divine M and the Grill Master. There will be more on this, I have no doubt. (I know, Cats, I know. I promise you're next so find a good pie recipe and air out the sofa bed.)

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

Originally from Nemeria (with edits for privacy)

A Hoops and Yoyo E-Card

Click on that. Yeah, I felt better than I had in days.

Those are Nemeria's thoughts ~ 'cause mine are still a little cloudy.

The Flu

'Nuff said.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. You know the rest.

Women's Work

Generally speaking, I am not very sexist. I can take out trash, kill bugs and change a tire with the best of 'em. A man who can cook, sew and/or read a bedtime story to a sleepy child is all man in my book.

There are, as there almost always are, exceptions, however. Like birth. And death. Those tend to be women's work. I am, of course, painting with a broad brush here. I have known men who are amazing in both situations. I know women who are not. Hell, when it comes to the birth part, I'm the last person you want in a birthing room. Let me pace and smoke outside with the guys and I'm at my best. Generally, though...well, there's a reason we're known as steel magnolias down south where I come from. It takes a different kind of strength to deal with birth. And death.

And when they happen almost simultaneously... I have asked my grandmothers, all three of them and the epitome of the steel magnolia, to wrap her up, to be part of the host that welcomes her home. I will do what I can to be a friend to her aunt. To see her aunt through the grief. To assure her aunt the love is not ever something that will be "gotten over." Because there is nothing else I can do. And sometimes nothing is women's work, too.

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