Still a great list to fly to.
"Ready to Go" Republika
"Si Senor the Hairy Grill" Yello
"Hawaii" Young Canadians
"The Temple of Love" Sister's of Mercy
"This Town aint Big Enough for Both of us" Sparks
" The Prisoner" DOA (see me in the crowd there? I'm there)
"Kashmir" Led Zepplin
"We are all Made of Stars" Moby
"Broken Face" the Pixies
"Bela Lugosi's Dead" Bauhaus
" Saved" Swans
"Alice" Cocteau Twins
"Strict Machine" Goldfrappe
yeah yeah old but still the coolest.
by far m'dears, by far!
So possibly I might do the New Year's Day fly... yes yes I know it is amazing to contemplate that!
I almost am excited by the prospect. Slack fliers or none, I still love the stunt ballet.
This means I should check to see if my lines are mouldy. I havenèt used them in 5 years.
Okay, 3 years but still that is a long long time.
Look around-- there are ALOT of fly-surfers now. Even here they come up in their neoprene suits and try the beach off the chi-chi avenues.
When I flew on Long Beach and had my music on a tape the judges asked for a preview.
I donèt know why they asked me when noone else had to give a sample.
I remember myself as very respectable except of course at the time I had a headful of black and blue brilliant blue hair. In braids that shot up straight. It was very effective and I thought beautiful. I did get some negative feedback on the beach.
The song I flew my routine was: "Si Senor the Hairy Grill' by Yello.
It was a spunky little number.
I had leather and lace but it was very modest.
The Judges confiscated my tape. :(
It was considered " A slap in the face to serious fliers"
haha I have the last laugh. Now the girls in that category have fake breasts and fly to stupid things while they pretend to be artistes.
I am listening to a playlist on my iPod and other people wanted to hear it.
"Oh my God you are an old Goth."
No not a Goth but perhaps a few gothish tendancies.
I did have a chainmail bra and I did wear 40's heels (black of course) to the club which of course was the "Love Affair" on hmm was is Drake and Seymour? Yes I think it was.
I was too pop for the Goths.
Too goth for the punks.
Too punk for the folkies.
Too folkie for the popsters.
Never cared except to be amused.
Now I am going to let loose my TUNZ on the beach.
It is one hell of a view with those floor to ceiling windows and the waves are crashing mere feet away from her oceanfront home. She looks at me and speaks her line with a dramatic gesture:
" It is not by chance you enter here... "
We adjourn to the family room and a little Woodsworth.
"I had such a great family Christmas I think I am ready to move on to the next stage of live."
( she is 94)
Up goes the arm again and the quote issues forth:
"Not into entire forgetfulness and not in utter nakedness,
but trailing clouds of glory do we come
from God who is our home."
oh yes.... thats quite a typical conversation.
I love my job!
There is this man I know who has a story to tell.
I have invited him to write here on my blog.
It is a very good story and well worth listening to.
Wids, it's you.
After he gets the hang on things perhaps we can have a TEAM woohoo
and next; WORLD DOMINATION
Are you up to speed, Slackers?
Martha Stewart's Holiday To-Do List
Dec. 1st- Blanch carcass from Thanksgiving turkey.
Spray pain gold, turn upside down & use as a sleigh to hold Christmas Cards.
Dec. 2nd- Have Mormon Tabernacle Choir record outgoing Christmas message
for answering machine.
Dec. 3rd- Using candlewick & hand-gilded miniature pine cones, fashion a
cat-o-nine-tails. Flog Gardener.
Dec. 4th- Repaint Sistine Chapel ceiling in ecru, with mocha trim.
Dec. 5th- Get new eyeglasses. Grind lenses myself.
Dec. 6th- Fax family Christmas newsletter to Pulitzer committee for consideration.
Dec. 7th- Debug Windows (all versions)
Dec. 10th- Align carpets to adjust for curvature of Earth.
Dec. 11th- Lay Faberge egg.
Dec. 12th- Take dog apart. Disinfect. Reassemble.
Dec. 13th- Collect dentures. They make excellent decorative pastry cutters.
Dec. 14th- Install plumbing in gingerbread house.
Dec. 15th- Replace air in mini-van tires with Glade "Holiday Scents"
Dec. 17th- Child-proof the Christmas tree with garland of razor-wire.
Dec. 19th- Adjust the legs of chairs so each Christmas dinner guest will be the same height when sitting at his or her assigned seat.
Dec. 20th- Dip sheep and cows in egg whites and roll in confectioner's sugar
to add a festive sparkle to the pasture.
Dec. 21st- Drain city reservoir; refill with mulled cider, orange slices and cinammon sticks.
Dec. 22nd- Float votive candles in toilet tank.
Dec. 23rd- Seed clouds for white Christmas.
Dec. 24th- Do annual good deed.
Go to several stores.
Be seen engaged in last minute Christmas shopping, thus making people feel less inadequate than they really are.
Dec. 25th- Bear Son.
Lay in colour-co-ordinated manger scented with homemade potpourri.
Dec. 26th- Organise spice racks by genus and phylum.
Dec. 27th- Build snowman in exact likeness of God.
Dec. 31st- New Year's Eve!! Give staff their resolutions.
Call a friend in each time zone of the world as their clocks strike midnight.
It's a new day and a new year.
Naturally I felt thick as a brick all day.
2 tums every 3 hours.....
Tonight will be better. I know it.
When you suffer a blow to your dignity, it is a wound that takes a long while to scab over.
Today I realised that I would like to spend a working decade making a difference to people in poorer countries. We have such wealth. They have so little.
And I, do I want to be one who passes by?
One who goes to sleep as if it is nothing to me?
It is something to me. Something big.
My own problems have created in me a huge need for social justice within my own realm.
I would like to spread it further.
The storm in my brain spoiled my birthday :(
Wthe tornado is there right in front of my mind's eye, I get a screaming headache and my whole left side goes into excruciating pain. No, oops it'e my right side. I get more dyslexic as the years go on. That's so typical; my getting it wrong so wrong.
I am without grace tonight.
Today it is new meds.
It was $64.00
For one week of meds.
I am soooo depressed about money...........
♥ ♥ ♥
Accolades for still being alive on the planet despite all odds.
Hollow victories. I look great, everyone tells me so.
I look so well. This almost makes me insane to hear.
I feel awful. Going to the Doctor upsets me greatly.
My Doctor could not be more caring or compassionate and has advocated for me in ways that most patients can only dream of. He has taken my disorders and injuries and made a roadmap for me, one that I can follow. He listens to my weirdness and never does anything to compromise my dignity. You cannot imagine how wonderful that is.
Not many years ago, before I had any recollections about accidents and injuries, I was at another Doctor - - - that is one of the worst memories of my life.
THAT Doctor never bothered to look in my medical history, never bothered to look past the *You Look Great* thing. I was a very pretty girl back then.
My Doctor of the time pretended to listen to me but wrote in his files: Neurotic.
My brain was scrambled and I was trying to make sense of all the dots I saw and the teflon skies ... the sleep paralysis and the flashback tremors. I thought everyone experienced that!
It floored me to find out other people did not have them.
Here I had always thought everyone knew some secret coping method that I wasn't privy to!
That Doctor drugged me into oblivion and back until I rebelled and tried to stop taking those drugs. He got very angry and threw me out of his practise saying I was a spoiled brat.
A spoiled brat who "wanted to be sick."
He thought I was making it up.
Of course if he had bothered to check my medical history he would have seen a brain injury, and multiple severe concussions.
But he didn't bother.
$50k in jaw surgery, dentistry, realignment and.... 4+ years of wired up hell.
Do I sound angry?
Not anymore. Just sad.
When I have a bad day, I remember Dr. R-tt--berg and his complete lack of professionalism and compassion.
Thank God for Dr. M-c---- who has restored my faith in the Medical Profession.
He listens. He researches. He prescribes appropriately.
He consults with other Physicians and when he does not know he says so and sends me to someone who might should or is able to figure it out.
So, hope reigns.
This morning I was out before the dawn as we have not yet passed the solstice.
It was very dark and the rain was heavy. A morning for a nice hot tea at the beach whilst listening to my morning CBC before work.
I went around the back road to my morning drive-through restaurant. As I drove behind a restaurant out of the corner of my eye I saw something on the ground. It moved incrementally.
Thinking it was rather early for a skateboarder to be out, and in the darkness to boot, I reversed and called out my window:
"Are you all right?"
"NO! I am not all right!" a voice called weakly back.
It was not a teenager at all, but a gentleman in his late 80's laying face-down on the pavement.
As he turned his head I saw blood pouring down his forehead. A cane was 3 or 4 feet away. along with a pair of broken glasses.
He was so cold and so wet and the wind and rain were still so heavy, after feeling along his spine and legs and asking if he could move them, I decided to get him up.
"You won't be able to get me up."
" Sure I can." I knew I could. And I did. He was flailing a bit for a few minutes so I had to hold on to him from behind. I walked him to my car after five minutes or so of trying to stablise his balance. It was not easy.
During this time another vehicle came by and drove past us. Yes, past us.
This driver must have had an attack of conscience since I had been waving frantically as he passed us. He came back and actually said: "Did you call an ambulance?"
"No,' I said, "I am holding this gentleman up. Can you please call?"
He did not return. The ambulance came about 10 minutes later.
The driver asked me if I wanted to warm up in his van. They took the gent to the hospital and I got my tea and went to work. When I drove through the clerk told me she was sorry she was unable to help but she could see me there.
"The man who told us to call 9-1-1 stirred his coffee and went and sat with his buddies."
Oh how thankful I am that I saw this gentleman as so easily he could have been run over.
After all, that is what happened to my friend lo these many years ago. The first fall did not kill her, but the second, being run over did.
I sat outside my first assignment with my heater blaring. My hair dried but my coat was pretty much completely sodden. It still is.
Impeccable timing. Thank you God. Angels are watching over me.
For those also suffering the dread sleep disorders bring, I post this to bring hope.
Initially when my Physician sent me to the big bux brain doc, I was skeptical.
When I was sent home with alot of good advice and a prescription, I was hesitant.
Because of the severity of my disorder, I took both the advice and the drugs and awaited my three month re-assessment.
It has been almost seven weeks since I began the program of drugs and strict routine.
There is no question: I feel alot better.
Sleeping is now a pleasure. I still dream but it is without fear and awakenings.
I am awake at 5 am. Up at 6:15.
Out and about and working. Home in the late afternoon, relaxing by 6pm and bed or at least room by 8. Every night I am asleep before 9.
So-- antipyschotic though it may be, Seroquel in low doseage is very effective for night terrors, post traumatic stress, and other parasomnias.
It is possible I am the least trusting patient ever but with good cause.
All the same, if you too are a parasomniac, and your Doctor wants to try 25 mg of Seroquel, give it a try. It seems to be working well for me.
You have to have a certain persona to be a star, you know, and I don't have that. I'm a banana.
The rosy cross contains attributes for the Elements, Planets, Zodiac, Hebrew alphabet, alchemical principles, the hexagram and pentagram, the sepheroth of the Tree of Life, and the formula of INRI. On the back side of the rosy cross is inscribed the motto at the bottom, "The master Jesus Christ, God and Man" between four maltese crosses, and in the center, written in Latin, "Blessed be the Lord our God who hath given us the Symbol Signum."
The Rose-Cross is a Lamen or badge synthesizing a vast concourse of ideas, representing in a single emblem the Great Work itself—the harmonious reconciliation in one symbol of diverse and apparently contradictory concepts, the reconciliation of divinity and manhood. It is a highly important symbol to be worn over the heart during every important operation. It is a glyph, in one sense, of the higher Genius to whose knowledge and conversation the student is eternally aspiring. In the Rituals it is described as the Key of Sigils and Rituals.
This lamen is a complete synthesis of the masculine, positive, or rainbow scale of color attributions, which is also called the Scale of the King. The four arms of the cross belong to the four elements and are colored accordingly. The white portion belongs to the Holy Spirit and the planets.
The twenty-two petals of the rose refer to the twenty-two paths on the Tree of Life and the Twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. It is the cross in Tiphareth, the receptacle and the center of the forces of the Sephiroth and the paths. The extreme center of the rose is white, the reflected spiritual brightness of Kether, bearing upon it the Red Rose of Five Petals and the Golden Cross of Six Squares; four green rays issue from around the angles of the cross. Upon the white portion of the lamen, below the rose, is placed the hexagram, with the planets.
Around the pentagrams, which are placed one upon each elemental colored arm, are drawn the symbols of the spirit and the four elements. Upon each of the floriated ends (the arms) of the cross are arranged the three alchemical principles of sulfur, salt, and mercury. The white rays issuing from behind the rose at the inner angles between the arms of the cross are the rays of the divine light issuing and coruscating from the reflected light of Kether in its center; and the letters and symbols on them refer to the analysis of the Key Word - I.N.R.I.
nope, I don't make this stuff up but it sure is interesting isn't it?
There are a few Eleanor Rigby's on my schedule. It is very sad when the person you are visiting clings to you as you are leaving. Full of fear to be alone again. Those long long days can pull you down when you are feeling vunerable.
A few other clients are in the midst of moves. For some it is a good thing and others view it as a long-avoided, now inevitable horror. They know that no matter how you dress it up, this is likely the last stop on the ride. One or two are eagerly anticipating having more people around to interact with, and more care if they need it. I know they all but they do not know each other. Because of confidentiality, we cannot pair them up one to another, even when we know they would enjoy each other's company. No matter; they will meet soon enough.
One of my little Eleanors is not moving. But she should be.
--- sigh --- *
“We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone.” Orson Wells
I made one of these calendars at www.despair.com
Noire of course, but very funny.
Sometimes you really want to tell all those motivational rah-rahs to shove it.
Despair.com does it for me.
Complete with the frowny face in the address bar.
The huge burms roadside, created by the snowploughs, have ensured a lengthy melt-time.
The virginal white beauty of last week is now sullied and sodden.
Even by the water, at the very best million dollar addresses, the driveways are treacherous still.
Just because your home is valuable, does not mean you value your guests and staff enough to have a safe entry point. In fact, it seems more likely that you do not as you, yourself, most likely are sitting comfortably in your warm chair awaiting your service.
Another amazing thing I have observed is the reluctance of large dog owners to dispose of their pet's droppings. Okay, just to be clear, it is not the pet owners who are large, but the dogs.
Little dogs, like little people, get away with alot more. (Spoken like a true bigger person, no?)
In a place where a clothesline is not allowed to hang in a private back yard, where each and every new business is vetted through the town council, where the new homes built along sight lines in the main shopping district must conform to the English faux country resort theme, there are no bylaw enforcement officers about. Amazing.
The growth here is frightening still. Although I commented above about million dollar addresses, truthfully, that's not saying much these days. A regular old house in the town centre is over 300 thousand now. A nice regular house is about 500 and a newer home in the downtown area is over 600k. If you want waterfront that's 800 and up. For a million dollars you might still just have a 66 foot frontage. 66 by 122. One home I attend on the water has 7 acres. The property next door to it sold last year for 5.5 million. *whew*
|"The real world is muddy and messy and full of things that we do not yet understand". Freeman Dyson|
Lights and magic and goodwill t'ward all mankind from the Divine.
As long as the sun melts the snow in the critical areas of the highway on the return drive I will be fine. On all-seasons you take what mercies the road hands you. I would rather drive uphill than down.
There have been so many terrible accidents this week, it is a very good thing to be taking extra time to consider all aspects of the drive.